them up pretty bad.”
“I thought we scared the shit out of them. Why are they still here?”
“Maybe you’re not that scary,” Cristina said.
“He’s plenty scary,” I said. “Max was Special Forces. He can kill with his bare hands.”
Cristina wet her lips. She wasn’t immune to Max’s incredible hotness. Max didn’t seem to notice. I rolled down my window and sucked a breath of stale, city air before I choked.
“I can’t believe those morons are still here,” Max said.
I smeared Dr. Pepper Lip Gloss over my red lipstick and smiled. “Not for long, babe.”
***
The Chicago PD detective car cut to the curb alongside a fire hydrant. The doors opened and Rocco and Jackson trolled across the street. They were, as Chicago cops go, as intimidating as they got. Jackson was Samoan by heritage and built somewhat similar to a brick. And then there was my brother—Italian through and through. He wasn’t as massive as his partner, but what he lacked in size he made up for in attitude. They joined Max and me in front of the hotel.
Jackson smoothed my blond wig. “That’s a new look for you.”
Rocco gave me a quick squeeze. “We’re gonna get the guy who killed Bill. Let the ninth precinct handle it. If Tierney’s dirty, we’ll get him.”
“Are you saying Captain Bob considers Kyle Tierney a suspect?”
“Not exactly.”
“Cuz this morning Captain Bob blew me off.”
Rocco made a face. “Bob blew me off too. I tried to talk to him about the incident at the pub yesterday. He said Billy pissed everybody off.”
“I hope he chokes on my donuts.”
Rocco said, “Don’t go all Rambo on us. We’re investigating Tierney on the QT.”
“And don’t get yourself carried out of his pub again,” Jackson said.
Not my proudest moment. “Savino has a big, fat mouth.”
Max stared. “You didn’t say you were stupid enough to confront Tierney alone.”
“Didn’t I?”
We stormed the hotel together, Max and I hot on the heels of the Chicago PD. Rocco and Jackson flashed their badges to goth-girl behind the desk. Her gaze lurched to the phone and her fingers twitched. Talk about your big, fat tattletales. I wondered how much the two guys at the end of the hall paid her to squeal if there was trouble. Or if Cristina returned. Clerking at a sleazy hotel can be a surprisingly lucrative job.
I jerked my head toward the phone. “Max, this is Miss Congeniality. She makes too many calls.”
“You go ahead. I’ll hang here with the hired help.”
Goth-girl glared. She reached for the phone and Max clapped a hand over hers. “We like to surprise our friends.”
Irene from Georgia closed her book and picked up the toys her son was playing with in the lounge. I pulled a baseball hat and a pair of clear lens glasses out of my pocket and put them on Colby.
“Irene, meet Detectives Jackson and DeLuca from the Chicago PD.”
The guys flashed their badges.
“Your son is safe with us,” Rocco said. “But it would be best if they don’t see you.”
I said, “If you’d like to wait in your room, I’ll bring Colby right up.”
The boy and I followed Jackson and Rocco down the long corridor of wooden doors. We walked past the room with the violin and laptop. I’d return to gather up Cristina and Halah’s things. We tromped down the hall to the second door from the end. Colby and I stood well back and off to the side as Jackson pounded on the door.
“Chicago PD. Open up.”
“Shit.”
The door opened. “We didn’t do nothin’.”
We came forward then, Colby tightly gripping my hand. Two men glowered. One sucked on a cigarette. There was a small stain around the other man’s lip that looked like chew. I suspected it was licorice.
Rocco turned to the boy. “Are these the men who said they’d give you candy if you got into their big black car?”
He laughed, thinking it a game. He nodded.
“That’s all we need,” Jackson said.
Colby and I retraced our steps down the long, stark
“I thought we scared the shit out of them. Why are they still here?”
“Maybe you’re not that scary,” Cristina said.
“He’s plenty scary,” I said. “Max was Special Forces. He can kill with his bare hands.”
Cristina wet her lips. She wasn’t immune to Max’s incredible hotness. Max didn’t seem to notice. I rolled down my window and sucked a breath of stale, city air before I choked.
“I can’t believe those morons are still here,” Max said.
I smeared Dr. Pepper Lip Gloss over my red lipstick and smiled. “Not for long, babe.”
***
The Chicago PD detective car cut to the curb alongside a fire hydrant. The doors opened and Rocco and Jackson trolled across the street. They were, as Chicago cops go, as intimidating as they got. Jackson was Samoan by heritage and built somewhat similar to a brick. And then there was my brother—Italian through and through. He wasn’t as massive as his partner, but what he lacked in size he made up for in attitude. They joined Max and me in front of the hotel.
Jackson smoothed my blond wig. “That’s a new look for you.”
Rocco gave me a quick squeeze. “We’re gonna get the guy who killed Bill. Let the ninth precinct handle it. If Tierney’s dirty, we’ll get him.”
“Are you saying Captain Bob considers Kyle Tierney a suspect?”
“Not exactly.”
“Cuz this morning Captain Bob blew me off.”
Rocco made a face. “Bob blew me off too. I tried to talk to him about the incident at the pub yesterday. He said Billy pissed everybody off.”
“I hope he chokes on my donuts.”
Rocco said, “Don’t go all Rambo on us. We’re investigating Tierney on the QT.”
“And don’t get yourself carried out of his pub again,” Jackson said.
Not my proudest moment. “Savino has a big, fat mouth.”
Max stared. “You didn’t say you were stupid enough to confront Tierney alone.”
“Didn’t I?”
We stormed the hotel together, Max and I hot on the heels of the Chicago PD. Rocco and Jackson flashed their badges to goth-girl behind the desk. Her gaze lurched to the phone and her fingers twitched. Talk about your big, fat tattletales. I wondered how much the two guys at the end of the hall paid her to squeal if there was trouble. Or if Cristina returned. Clerking at a sleazy hotel can be a surprisingly lucrative job.
I jerked my head toward the phone. “Max, this is Miss Congeniality. She makes too many calls.”
“You go ahead. I’ll hang here with the hired help.”
Goth-girl glared. She reached for the phone and Max clapped a hand over hers. “We like to surprise our friends.”
Irene from Georgia closed her book and picked up the toys her son was playing with in the lounge. I pulled a baseball hat and a pair of clear lens glasses out of my pocket and put them on Colby.
“Irene, meet Detectives Jackson and DeLuca from the Chicago PD.”
The guys flashed their badges.
“Your son is safe with us,” Rocco said. “But it would be best if they don’t see you.”
I said, “If you’d like to wait in your room, I’ll bring Colby right up.”
The boy and I followed Jackson and Rocco down the long corridor of wooden doors. We walked past the room with the violin and laptop. I’d return to gather up Cristina and Halah’s things. We tromped down the hall to the second door from the end. Colby and I stood well back and off to the side as Jackson pounded on the door.
“Chicago PD. Open up.”
“Shit.”
The door opened. “We didn’t do nothin’.”
We came forward then, Colby tightly gripping my hand. Two men glowered. One sucked on a cigarette. There was a small stain around the other man’s lip that looked like chew. I suspected it was licorice.
Rocco turned to the boy. “Are these the men who said they’d give you candy if you got into their big black car?”
He laughed, thinking it a game. He nodded.
“That’s all we need,” Jackson said.
Colby and I retraced our steps down the long, stark
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