Sara froze, the cantaloupe in her hand hovering over the cutting board. “You’re joking, right? That loser thinks he’s got a shot with me?”
She waved the knife in the air, eyes blazing. “If I poke his eyes out, you two gonna cover for me?”
Roger slipped an arm around her shoulders, gently steering her away. “Come on, Sara. He’s not even worth the trouble.”
On the other side of town, Patricia reached the spot where they’d agreed to meet.
It was a little riverside dock–the kind of place where old couples strolled after dinner. Tonight, though, it was almost deserted.
She found Brandon sitting alone on a bench, cigarette between his fingers. He’d put a paper napkin under his feet, collecting the pile of cigarette butts around him. Maybe it was his way of keeping things tidy, planning to clean up before he left.
“Mr. Lantz.”
At the sound of her voice, Brandon quickly tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his heel. “Ms. Martin.”
He nodded toward a vending machine nearby. “Want something to drink? I can grab it.”
Patricia shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m good.”
“So, what does Mr. XIng want with me tonight?” she asked, purposely skipping his title. Talking to Brandon was different from talking to Detective Lantz. She didn’t want to put up walls between them.
He cut right to the chase. “Just wanted to know if you have any evidence.”
Patricia’s brows drew together. “Evidence? About what?”
The autumn breeze picked up, rattling the little trees along the dock and sending dry leaves skittering across the pavement.
Brandon met her eyes, steady and direct in the dim glow of the streetlamp. Patricia didn’t need to look hard to know he was sizing her up.
“You know what I mean, Ms. Martin.”
She deflected, voice careful. “Is this for the case, or is this personal?”
She was cautious. She still had no idea where he stood. No way she’d just hand over what she had, not without knowing more. What if she was wrong about him?
Brandon watched her, trying to read the hesitation in her eyes.
Right then, the park lights flickered and went out.
Since last year, Riverdale had this rule–except for a few necessary streetlamps, all the decorative lights shut off at eleven to save power.
And now, it was exactly eleven.
Chapter 287
Darkness settled over the dock. Brandon squinted, taking a moment to adjust. “I know about you and Greg,” he said quietly. “That you two have some history.”
Patricia didn’t blink. “And?”
“Officially or not, you should cooperate with our investigation. It’s the right thing to do.”
She let out a slow breath, rubbing her thumb against her fingers. His stiff, by–the–book attitude was starting to get on her nerves.
She needed someone off the radar to help her handle Kelly. If this way didn’t work, she’d find another.
So this is what Jackson meant by “normal people.”
“Brandon, you’re wasting my time.”
“1-” Brandon started, but Patricia was already turning to leave.
He took a couple of steps as if to follow, but stopped short when he spotted a man standing in the shadows under a tree. The guy was dressed head to toe in black, blending right into the night. Even from a distance, there was something about him–like he was used to being in charge. Definitely not just some random guy at the dock.
Patricia walked right up to the man and slid her hand into his like it was the most natural thing in the world. The two of them disappeared into the darkness together.
Brandon stared at the empty space where they’d vanished, struggling to pull himself together.
It was a long minute before his phone rang. “Kelly’s awake. Her lawyer’s accusing us of using excessive force. The chief wants you back at the station–now.”
Chapter 288
Chapter 288
