Free Red by Kate Serine Page B

at least eat something first. Then we’ll head back out. Together.”
    I glanced up at him, gauging his sincerity, then sighed. “Fine,” I relented, “but you need to stop mixing your metaphors. You’re a fictional character, for crying out loud; it’s embarrassing.”
    He laughed and gave my hand a squeeze, bringing a smile to my lips in spite of my irritation. A few minutes later, we were sitting side by side at the kitchen bar, eating roast beef sandwiches and kosher dill pickles.
    “Thanks for the sandwich,” I mumbled around a mouthful of pure heaven. “This is delicious.”
    Nate gave me a self-satisfied smile. “Thanks. It’s the herbed mayonnaise. I mixed it myself. If you’re nice to me, maybe I’ll give you the recipe.”
    “Don’t bother,” I replied. “I don’t cook.”
    Nate lifted his brows. “Not at all?”
    “Never.”
    “But you love to eat.”
    “So does a dog,” I retorted. “Doesn’t mean it cooks.”
    Nate chuckled and nudged me playfully with his shoulder. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll show you the ropes. Then you won’t have to rely on your men to cook for you.”
    I felt my stomach tighten at his remark, but afraid to read too much into it, I let it go. Trying to cover my sudden onset of nerves, I took a bite of pickle, then wagged the spear at him. “I don’t get you.”
    Nate’s smile vanished and he turned away, concentrating on his sandwich. “What’s to get?”
    “You’re an enigma to me,” I admitted. “I’ve known you for decades. We’ve worked—what?—scores of crime scenes together over the years?”
    Nate shrugged. “Yeah, something like that.”
    “So why are you suddenly so interested in working with me now ?”
    Nate wiped his hands on his napkin, obviously looking anywhere other than at me. “I told you, you’re the best one to be on this case. You have intimate knowledge of the suspects.”
    I let out a bitter laugh. “My love life aside, there are several other Enforcers who could have brought them in.”
    Nate polished off his lunch and got up to put his plate in the dishwasher. “Call it a professional courtesy, then. I figured you’d want to be involved.”
    I studied him, knowing that there was something he wasn’t telling me, but I didn’t have the faintest idea what it could be. Then, a sudden, chilling thought came to me. I was almost afraid to utter the words, but I had to know if my hunch was right. “You’re not hanging around with me just because of the murders, are you?”
    Nate grabbed a sponge from the sink and began wiping down the countertops. “What are you talking about?”
    “There are only a few reasons the Grim Reaper takes a sudden interest in a person,” I pointed out. I gripped the edge of my chair, bracing myself. “My number’s up, isn’t it, Nate?”
    Nate hesitated briefly at my question but didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. I could see the truth etched in the sternness of his expression.
    I took a deep breath and asked, “How’s it going to happen?”
    This time Nate came back to his chair and sat down next to me, lacing his hands together in front of him before answering. “Just because I saw what’s coming, doesn’t mean it will come to pass. Consider it more of a cosmic heads-up.”
    “But it has to do with this case,” I surmised. “It has to do with these suspects?”
    Nate nodded. “I knew that if you found out who our suspects were, you’d get involved on your own, regardless of what the Chief said. So I asked him to put you on the case with me. That way I figured I could keep an eye on you, be there in case I needed to intervene.”
    “Can you do that?” I asked. “I mean, won’t you get in trouble or something?”
    At this, Nate finally turned toward me. “I don’t usually get this kind of advance warning,” he admitted. “Usually I get notified a few seconds ahead of time or even just after. There’s a reason I was tipped off this time around. And, well, I like you, Red.