“I’m back,” I say, speaking to Andrew and heading up the stairs. “Are you alone?”
“For the moment,” he says. “Why?”
I enter the bedroom and continue on to Purgatory, where I turn on the lights. “Watch your back.”
“I always watch my back.”
“If that were true, Samantha would not be in your bed.”
I can almost see the grit of his teeth. “You don’t know her like I know her.”
“Said one head to the other head and the wrong one won,” I reply and I don’t give him time to push back. “Kane and I are both good judges of bad character. She’s a bad character.” I sit down in the chair against the wall and slide my bag off my shoulder, letting it drop to the ground.
“Did you really call me in the middle of an investigation to talk about Samantha?” he snaps.
“I don’t trust Officer North or Danica Day either. Just be careful, asshole. That’s all.” I change the subject. “Anything else on the fake Naomi?”
“Nothing. I’ll call you and wake you up if we get something.”
“You’d enjoy that, but do it anyway.” I hang up and sit there a moment, just thinking about why I made that call. Why do I have a need to protect my brother, who really is a damn good police chief? Most likely the visit to the plot of land that is now the graveyard to my former house. And of course, the talk Kane and I had about my mother’s murder. Right now, I recognize that I’m hyper-focused on the sins of the Society. The same goes for Director Murphy.
And I can’t go down the Society rabbit hole right now and get obsessed with them. I have a murder to solve. And a killer who appears to be obsessed with me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I sleep exactly four hours, and I only do that at Kane’s insistence.
I know he loves me, but personally, I think he’s protecting himself. I’m a bitch when I don’t sleep. Okay, I’m more of a bitch than normal when I don’t sleep. And if there is one thing Kane Mendez is afraid of, it’s me in bitch mode.
As the morning throws me chaos, I decide I should have slept more.
I hurry through my shower, dress to confuse. That means black dress pants, Chanel ankle boots, and an emerald green silk blouse with my hair long around my shoulders. I look like a girl. It makes people expect me to be soft. I like it when people expect me to be soft. It makes them an even softer target.
Kane dresses in a suit the color of a deep blue wash of sea on a sunny day. He wears it like a king, arrogance radiating from him. I like him arrogant about as much as I like my targets soft. Both equal winning. And when it comes to the Society and a murder investigation, winning matters.
Jay picks Kane and me up in a black Escalade. Our first stop is the airport, where Kane is flying out on a chopper to the city while I ride deeper into Long Island for the autopsy. I say my goodbyes to Kane just outside the Escalade and then Jay and I are on our way. For the sake of the investigation, I lay my head back and shut my eyes. Sleep comes hard and fast and lasts until the vehicle halts. I jolt awake and sit up to find us sitting in front of a place called Duck Donut.
“What is this?” I demand. “I’m FBI, not a cop. We eat chocolate cake, not donuts.”
“I’m a Mexican,” he says. “We eat whatever we like and I like donuts. And they have a strawberry donut with buttercream icing. Thank me later.” He gets out of the vehicle.
Okay, that little monster has tempted me now, when I secretly swore to myself that I’d drink water and eat rice cakes today. Only I didn’t buy rice cakes or water. I was lying to myself. I hate people who lie, even to themselves.
And still, I climb out of the truck and hurry toward Jay, with donuts on my mind. “What the hell does a duck have to do with a donut?”
“They started out in Duck, North Carolina, and yes, apparently that’s a real place.” He opens the shop door for me and motions me forward. “Unless I’m not allowed to be a gentleman with you, Agent Love.”
“And why wouldn’t you?” I ask. “I’m a lady.” I head inside and the sweet smell of sugar and donuts touch my nose. To hell with rice cakes.
A few minutes later, Jay and I each have two donuts, mine are, of course, strawberry, while his are maple bacon, and we head to the vehicle. I walk to my side of the Escalade and stop dead in my tracks. There’s a note on the window and I know exactly who it’s from: my note writer who had gone MIA. Junior is back.