“So, you’re free and clear? He just dropped dead?”
“Yeah,” her shoulders slumped as she let him get a glimpse of her own confusion. “Wigged me out. I’m bruised all over. I thought I hit him.”
“Guess you hit the wall. That’s good.” At her raised eyebrow, he said, “You know what I mean. They can’t hold you responsible.”
“Still, why would Petrakis do that? Why the fuck would he give a damn whether they went through the process over me or not?”
Jake’s hands slid to the back of her neck, and he brought her head down to his. “Guess you’ll have to ask him,” he whispered against her lips.
Sin wondered why she couldn’t stop thinking about it, why she couldn’t just let the whole incident go. Put it down to a robbery gone bad. Yet, something in her gut told her there was more to the story.
Promising herself she wouldn’t drag Jake deeper into her obsession, she leaned down and met his fiery kiss.
Chapter 5
Sin was closing the buckle on her utility belt, sliding the leather through the prongs, when the doorbell rang.
Wondering if Jake had decided to catch a bite to eat before work after all, she flung open the door, a smile on her face, only to feel it slowly freeze when she saw who stood there.
Her hand slipped from the doorknob, and she swayed on her feet.
Her visitor stepped over the threshold, slipped an arm around her waist, and then turned to close the door behind him. “Don’t pass out on me now,” he muttered. “You better have a seat.”
He turned her toward the sofa, but Sin shook off his arm and made it under her own steam. Just. “I wasn’t going to pass out.”
“And chalk is the usual color of your skin?”
Sin ignored his gentle gibe and sat in the middle of the sofa, the same place Jake had made love to her early that morning. Smoothing a hand over her hair, she swallowed, stalling for time before she lifted her gaze to his.
Yup, she hadn’t been mistaken. Dark-haired and so beautiful she’d known she would never forget his face—even if she had been half-way to believing he’d only been a dream.
Her “birdman” sat in the chair opposite her.
His black eyes narrowed. “Do you remember me?” he asked, his voice a little tight, not the melodic one from her trip into la-la land.
Was he going to admit she’d met him after he’d picked her up and flew her upside down until he’d dropped her in the dirt? Sin nodded slowly.
“We met at an Academy graduation. Three years ago.”
Sin felt her stomach knot. No way was he going to get away with letting her think she was nuts. She’d had enough of feeling uncertain about herself. She knew what she’d seen. The shirt the big cat had shredded was still in the bottom of her laundry basket. “I think we met two nights ago,” she said, surprised she’d found the bite to infuse into her tone.
He blinked, and his gaze narrowed again. “I’m Detective Petrakis,” he said slowly. “We met at an academy graduation.”
Petrakis. “Funny, I don’t remember that.”
“Maybe because your eyes were glued on the man you were there with,” he said smoothly. “I heard you suffered an injury the other night. Ran into a wall.”
“I ran through a goddamn wall,” she bit out. “Don’t even try to tell me I hit my head. I know what I saw.”
The corners of his lips twitched. “All right. I won’t.”
He fished his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cylindrical metal object, silver-colored and imprinted with designs she thought might be Aztec or Mayan. Mexican history wasn’t her thing, but she’d been to Mexico a couple of times and had visited ruins with similar artwork on the sides of the temples.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
“I’m assuming it’s the thing the dead robbery suspect stole from the coin shop.”
“It’s the handle of an ancient weapon. A sword.” He tossed it across to her.