“Perhaps, but will he change up his MO?” Petra asked. “Like you said, he knows we know. Is now the time to change? He knows this method works. Changing it up is risky.”
“It would be riskier to continue,” Etienne countered. “Don’t you think?”
“I want a crack at that bartender. What’s her name?” Chelle asked.
“Risha Porter. Twenty-three,” Stringer replied.
“You want in?” Chelle asked Petra. “You’ve got a lot invested in this case, too.”
“Thought you’d never ask. Jones?”
“Don’t need three of us, but thanks. I’ll watch. If you need me, you know how to whistle.” Hooking his thumbs in his utility belt, he winked.
“God, you’re incredibly good looking,” Petra said.
Jones laughed. “Did you mean to say that out loud, Deputy Reyes?”
“Yep.” She strode toward the door with Chelle behind her.
The door thumped shut. Once they got in the elevator, heading to holding, she glanced at Chelle, who was laughing quietly.
“You totally called his bluff. I’m not sure if he’s a show-off or if that’s just how he stands,” Chelle giggled.
“He’s showing off—for you. You know he likes you, right?”
Chelle smirk. “Yeah. He’s hot as seven kinds of hell, but not while I’m his boss….”
Petra chuckled, nudging her. “If I weren’t hooked on a psychologist, I’d be all over that.”
© 2018 Dellani Oakes
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