And, I very much like this dream.
Especially the second chance I’m getting. I turn to Burke. “I just have a hunch that this is only the first bomb. And that maybe the bomber was in the crowd, watching.” I close my eyes for a second. “I need to talk to Eve.”
Burke is frowning. I still can’t get over that hair. Or that stupid soul patch.
“Eve?”
“Eve Mulligan, the CSI at today’s scene? She was snapping pictures—”
“The redhead? Danny Mulligan’s daughter?”
Yeah, the redhead. And if Eve heard Burke call her that, he’d be so very dead.
Burke is shaking his head. “You’d better stay away from that one, Rem.”
I don’t know why, but a spurt of cockiness makes me say, “Naw. I’m going to marry her.” Well, it’s true, isn’t it?
Burke stares at me like I’ve taken a hit too hard. “Right. Okay, Rem, whatever you say.”
I push past him. Because I’ve just come up with a reason to see her. And a way to stop bombing number two. I’ll get the photos, go to the next scene and simply stake it out. Wait.
Stop the carnage and get the bomber.
Unless, of course, I wake up first.
So, right now, I’m sloughing off the eerie voodoo of this dream and diving in, tasting the sweet sense of justice, of triumph.
While I’m stopping the crime of the decade, maybe I’ll also take this body for a spin at the gym, one more time. Climb into the ring with Burke, now that I know his moves. I hide a smile, wishing on stars th
at whatever took me down and into this dream has me out for a long winter’s nap.
“I’m going over to the crime lab to see if Eve has downloaded her pictures—”
“Downloaded?”
“Uh … developed. But first, I’m going back to the Cuppa. I need a white mocha with a berry shot.”
“A what?”
I try not to smile. “It’s coffee. Like an upgraded latte.” Oh, the nineties. “Don’t you watch Friends? Man, I forgot how sheltered you are. You need to live larger, dude.”
“Hey—”
I grin, because I’m seeing the Burke I knew, and our friendship is still intact, the sparring fun, the laughter easy. Back when he didn’t consider me a traitor.
“Take a breath, Burke. I’ll text you if I find anything.”
The frown is back on Burke’s face. Deeper this time.
I push past him, unbuttoning the collar of my shirt at the neck as I leave the restroom.
“I’m coming with you,” Burke says, on my heel.
I turn, walking backwards. “Actually, you’re not. I need to talk to Eve alone. You go back in there. Tell Booker I’ve got a lead. And keep an eye on Danny Mulligan.”
Burke stops in the middle of the hallway. “Stay away from her.”
“Not a chance.” I turn back just in time to hit the door, and find myself outside, in the glaring hot sun. A couple of Rollerbladers skate by, along with a car pumping out Puff Daddy’s “Bad Boys for Life.”