Page 48 of Dropping Like Flies
Lost. That word annoyed me. Not because it wasn’t true. It was. But because I didn’t like the thought of anyone knowing Griffin as well as I did. I tamped down on the surge of jealousy, Griffin’s expression telling me I hadn’t done it quickly enough for him not to have felt it.
“Thanks.” The word seemed insufficient, but what else was I supposed to say?
Still smiling, Flynn finally let go of my hand and backed off, his gaze darting between the two of us. “So… what’s going on with you two? Are you guys out celebrating your reunion?”
My phone beeped, and I pulled it out of my pocket to read the message.
Harry: Nothing to report up here.
There was a message from Olivia as well from a couple of minutes earlier.
Olivia: No change. I’d say I was bored, but watching Harry fend off advances is pretty entertaining. I reckon he’s had at least five numbers shoved into various pockets. If you want to see him blush, ask him about it at the end of the night.
“We’re working.”
Griffin’s response to Flynn’s question had me jerking my head up. Him telling the truth surprised me. I would have expected him to know better when we were undercover. Mind, as Griffin’s days of working for CID still hadn’t passed double figures, I was probably being unfair.
Flynn’s eyes went wide, a look of trepidation appearing on his face. “Really?” He turned in a slow circle. “You think this might be where Satanic Romeo finds his victims? Fuck!”
“Shhh…” I cautioned him. “Keep your voice down. We don’t want to cause a panic.”
Flynn nodded, his expression turning sheepish. “Sorry. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s bad enough that it’s going on in your city without it being in a club you frequent.”
“You come here a lot?”
He shrugged. “Depends what you call a lot?”
“At least once or twice a month.”
“Then, yeah, a fair amount.”
“Ever seen anything suspicious?”
I ignored Griffin narrowing his eyes at me. Yeah, I was interviewing Flynn, but he didn’t get a pass just because he and Griffin had once been intimate. A witness was a witness.
Flynn pondered the question for a few seconds before shaking his head. “No, sorry. I wish I could help, but…” He trailed off, looking sorry that he didn’t have a tidbit of information that would blow the case wide open.
I fished in my pocket and pulled out a card with my phone number on it. “If you see anything, or remember anything you didn’t think was strange at the time but have second thoughts about, then call me.”
Flynn turned the card over in his hands a few times before giving an enthusiastic nod. “I will, and”—he flicked a glance Griffin’s way—“I don’t know if Griff told you, but I’m a bartender. People talk, you know, and I’ve always got one ear to the ground, so maybe I’ll hear something useful there.”
Griff! I gritted my teeth at the casual use of the shortened name. Griffin had led me to believe they hadn’t known each other long. Had that been a lie? Or was Flynn just one of those people who got really friendly really quickly? From the short time I’d spent with him, I assumed it was the latter, Flynn already treating me like we were old friends.
I forced a smile. “Thanks. That would be great. Even if you think it’s something small, don’t hesitate to contact me. Sometimes those small things fit together to give us an overall picture we wouldn’t otherwise have.”
“I will.” Flynn cast a quick look around the club, his expression troubled. “Not sure I’ll be coming here again, mind. Reckon, I’ll just become a hermit until you catch this guy.” He leaned conspiratorially close, my nostrils filling once more with the smell of his cologne. “Is there anything else I can do, detective, to keep myself safe?” There was something familiar about the smell this time, like I knew someone else who wore it. Possibly Lou. My partner had a bit of a reputation for always smelling fresh. Dressing up for the cadavers was the jibe he always got.
After a bit of small talk, most of which I wouldn’t have recalled even under cross-examination, Flynn disappeared back into the crowd. I watched him go, that same thrum of jealousy itching beneath my skin.
“I can feel it, you know,” Griffin said, his lips close to my ear.
“Feel what?” I pulled my phone out and checked the screen as an excuse not to look at him. No new messages.
“You being jealous. You don’t need to be.”
I eked out putting my phone back in my pocket for as long as I could. Eventually, though, I had no choice but to look at him. “I just didn’t expect him to be so…”
“So…?”
