Free Dead Don't Lie by L. R. Nicolello

hadn’t meant to be sharp, but the lack of sleep and the heavy weight of this case chipped away at her normally poised, self-controlled demeanor. Its eerie similarity—however vague it might be—to her own family’s murder unsettled her. Add the fact that the fifteenth anniversary of her family’s death was just a few weeks away, and it was no wonder that she was a bit impatient with Marcus.
    But now she was noticing how sexy he looked?
Good grief.
    She glanced up at him. He smiled and her heart took off.
    “You can’t possibly know that he’s referring to me.”
    His shoulders raised in a slight shrug. “True. I don’t. But I’d bet my pension on it.”
    “Okay, I’ll bite,” Ryan said. “Talk, Mr. Special Agent Man.”
    She shifted in her chair, lips curled in a tiny smile. She enjoyed the play between the two men, and Ryan was in rare form today.
    Marcus swallowed a chunk of blueberry doughnut before answering. “It’s Marcus. No need for formality. We’re a team now, right?”
    Now
that
she hadn’t expected from the Fed. Trying to take over—yes. Putting them all on equal ground—no. She reached for her coffee.
    Ryan nodded. “Fair enough. Marcus it is. Start talking.”
    “It’s deductive reasoning, really. Anyone with half a brain and access to a computer can do a search and find the names of the SPD detectives.”
    Evelyn snapped her fingers. She smiled at Marcus, picking up on his train of thought, and cut in. “Then all they’d have to do is call in an anonymous tip and ask to speak to the lead detective.”
    “Exactly,” Marcus agreed. “The poor shmuck on the other end of the line—no offense—”
    “None taken.” Ryan shrugged, the fire in his eyes tapering.
    “—gives Evelyn’s name out, and bam. The bastard knows who the lead detective is.”
    “Holy shit.” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “It can’t be that easy.”
    Marcus smirked. “It is. I called in to check my theory myself.”
    A laugh erupted from Evelyn before she could swallow it. “You didn’t.”
    “I did.” Marcus winked and got up from the edge of her desk. He walked to the old desk they’d dug up for him and sat.
    “But why?” He looked at Evelyn pointedly. “Why go through all that trouble to single you out?”
    Evelyn shuddered. The thought of this psychopath zeroing in on her made her blood run cold. “I have no idea.”
    * * *
    L ATER THAT AFTERNOON , Evelyn left the station, having volunteered to do the Starbucks run. The moment she disappeared down the stairs, Ryan turned to Marcus. “Why are you really here?”
    He looked at Ryan, deliberating how to respond. Someone didn’t ask that type of question unless they already knew the answer. It annoyed Marcus, but he got it. He’d done the same thing many times over. So why was Ryan asking? Marcus watched him closely. Unless Ryan was trying to vet him to see how up-front and honest he’d be—which again, Marcus understood perfectly.
    “Why do you ask? It should be obvious. The mayor called, the Bureau answered.”
    “Bullshit.” Ryan’s eyes flashed. “Evelyn’s not the only one with friends in the Bureau. I reached out to my buddy, looked into you, just like you did us. Rumor has it you don’t usually consult with local, lowly law enforcement. You head up a special task-force team. One that would benefit from an individual with skills like Evelyn’s.”
    Marcus didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Not without lying to this officer’s face, which he wouldn’t do. He already respected the detective too much. But he couldn’t show his cards yet. He wasn’t ready.
    Evelyn’s reputation was nearing legendary status. The Seattle field office had seen to that. Before he’d come along, she’d been approached three times to join the FBI. She’d shot them down each time, which puzzled him. Why would such a promising detective, with her off-the-chart closing rates and primal instincts, scoff at the chance to work with the Bureau?