We also learned that Ricky’s friends—Leon Taylor and Craig Meyer—were offed because they had both raised questions about his “suicide” as well. Not through official channels, since they were both drug dealers, but they’d started sniffing around, and they’d been “dealt with.” Craig had made some noise about going to the media about it, and after he was killed, Leon had picked up that torch.
I’d had nightmares for a week after learning that. I’d known Reardon and his buddies were trying to shut us up, and that they’d have been happy to do it the same way they had Leon and Craig. There was still something intensely disturbing, though,about finding out two people had been murdered for the same reason and by the same person who wanted to kill you.Shudder.
There had also been an informant inside the county medical examiner’s office who’d blown the whistle that Dr. Klinger had been compromised. Turned out, the man’s children had been threatened unless he ruled Leighton’s death a suicide. Klinger was suspended pending a review by the state board, and he was cooperating with prosecutors to testify against Reardon.
So. Yeah. Needless to say, the last several months had been… eventful. And none of it was going to die down any time soon.
But at least for Everett and me, things were quieter. We were no longer in physical danger. We’d secured those lucrative contracts with the city.
And as of two weeks ago, both of our medals hung neatly on the living room wall above the piranha tank.
I was still getting used to living with someone—with someonewantingto live with me—but I liked having him here. He could be a little messy and chaotic, but it wasn’t bad. And he adored my pets, so that went a long way. Even if Jeff was becominghiscat. Little traitor.
Both of us worked sporadic and unpredictable hours. He’d been called away more than once at, erm, inopportune moments, which was frustrating, but we always made up for it later. It wasn’t unusual at all for me to hear squealing tires and athunkoutside a scene I was working on, only to get a text a moment later saying,I brought dinner—want to take a break?And then we’d eat dinner in the front of his badly parked car, catch up for a little bit, share a quick kiss (or several), and I’d get back to work.
I liked our chill life. It was impossible to call it calm or sedate when Everett was involved, but in a way, it was. If the only chaos I had in my life was my boyfriend blowing up my phone withforty-seven texts about this rare West African wildcat he’d just learned about… I mean, could I really complain?
Though there were some things I could do without.
“Dude.” I watched him from the couch as he leaned over the open fish tank. “I just sat down after a long day. If you have to go to the emergency room, you’re on your own.”
“I’ll be fine!” He eased his hand toward the surface, gaze fixed on Steve, who was watching the slow descent. “Seriously, he did it earlier and I was fine!”
I grimaced, watching nervously and dubiously.
Between Everett’s fingertips was a shrimp. When it touched the surface, Steve backed off minutely, but still kept his attention on the offered treat.
“Come on, buddy,” Everett said. “Show him. Show your dad.”
I had to chuckle, even though I was still nervous.
Everett wiggled the shrimp, making the water ripple. “Come on. Come on, you know you want it! Just come up and?—”
Steve lurched upward, and I shot to my feet, instantly envisioning us scrambling to the ER while Everett put pressure on the bloody remains of his finger.
But Everett didn’t move. He flinched ever so slightly, but he kept his hand steady, and…
Steve took a bite of the shrimp, then swam back down into the tank. After a moment, he came back up for another bite.
“See?” Everett dropped the shrimp into the tank and turned to me with a huge grin. “I told you I’d make friends with him!”
I laughed and shook my head as I crossed the room. “Okay, okay. I’m convinced.” I slid my hands over his waist. “But… maybe don’t do that too much? Because he can jump up and?—”
Everett kissed me lightly, which derailed my thoughts. Evidently satisfied I wasn’t going to keep protesting, he drew back and grinned again. “I won’t. I promise. I just wanted to see if I could get him to eat out of my hand.”
Chuckling, I touched my forehead to his. “Only you would aspire to get a piranha—especially the bitchiest piranha on the face of the earth—to eat out of your hand.”
“Well, yeah.” He shrugged innocently. “How else was I going to make friends with him? It isn’t like I can put little outfits on him or?—”
I snorted and kissed him softly. “You’re a dork.”
“And you love it.”
Yeah, I really did. “How about we feed all the fish—the normal way this time—and then go feed ourselves?”
God, his adorable smile was the best thing ever. “Sounds good. Waffles?”
There’d been a time when I’d wrinkle my nose just thinking about setting foot in that place. And when I’d turned up my nose at their food. But what could I say? They’d grown on me. Plus we hadn’t said hi to the Goth kids in a few days.
“Yeah.” I brushed a light kiss across his lips. “Waffles? sounds perfect.”
