Lila inclined her head, acknowledging his bow.

“I heard you were looking into this case for your father,” Vance said, his voice deep and rumbling. “I don’t like a Saxon heir getting involved with La Verde state business. The point of the state militias is to keep our investigations free from the influence of the families.”

Yep, that was why she hadn’t asked him out. He didn’t trust her. She probably wouldn’t have gotten away with half so many things in the last few years if he and Shaw switched places.

“Her father wants her here for a reason. She’s—”

Lila cleared her throat, ending Shaw’s tirade before it could begin. “Chief Vance, let’s not pretend you’re pissed about jurisdiction or the sanctity of government investigations or even my father’s interference. The oracles won’t cooperate unless I’m here, and that pisses you off,” Lila said, hopping into the cart. “It would piss me off too, but there’s not much any of us can do about it. So let’s just save ourselves a bunch of hollering in the cold. You’ve given your official complaint. I have a two-hour plane ride home, a dozen compounds to run, and a stuffed inbox waiting on me. I suspect you can understand.”

Vance frowned as she crossed an ankle over her knee. If there was one thing most militia officers understood, it was work.

“This is highly irregular.” He slid into the cart as Shaw folded himself into the back seat. The small wheels lurched forward, and the struggling contraption rattled past the terminals toward a waiting sedan.

A three-legged pregnant turtle could have beaten them there.

Lila ducked into the sedan as soon as they arrived, the car thankfully roomier than the plane. She stretched her legs while Chief Vance dug into a pile of folders on the seat next to him. “I presume you’ve read our initial reports on the kidnapping?”

Lila shook her head.

Vance’s blue eyes narrowed, and he turned to Shaw. “You didn’t give her—”

“She knows the basics. Rebecca was taken from her foster home at midnight. No one knows or saw who did it.”

“That’s not the basics. You’ve told her nothing.”

Shaw raised his chin. “I’ve told her plenty. It’ll only her take five minutes at the scene to deduce what’s in your stack of reports.”

Lila nearly laughed. Chief Shaw might have been defending her, but it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the slight against his own judgment.

“This is highly irregular.” Vance leaned back in his seat. The leather of his blackcoat strained over his wide chest.

Lila had never been with a man a dozen years her senior, and never one who had spent so much time in the gym. She wondered what it would be like.

Then she wondered what it would be like for Tristan to wear the blackcoat. Perhaps the coat and nothing else. His erect cock peeking out as he entered her bedroom, ordering her to take off her clothes and toss them in a pile, ordering her to turn and face the wall as he slid in between her legs, grabbing her hips as he fucked her, forcing her to grip her desk and moan with each demanding thrust, both of them—

Lila blushed and stared out the window, glad the men couldn’t read her mind, glad they couldn’t tell how wet she’d just gotten. For oracle’s sake, she was visiting a kidnapping scene. A child had just been taken. A child who needed her help.

All she could think about was her lover.

This was why the highborn didn’t let themselves get attached.

Lila sank down low in her seat and wiggled her toes. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of anything but Tristan as they drove through the still dark suburbs of Sioux Falls.

She nearly dozed off, but the sedan lurched suddenly, stopping in a well-to-do workborn neighborhood. A two-story house with a metal gate rose above them, its blue paint too bright in the melancholy gloom. Sunflowers lined a small garden in the front yard, their heavy faces turning toward any friend who might appear for a visit. Little red shutters and a red door adorned the house, a collection of pudgy porcelain gnomes standing near the entrance and a freshly painted porch swing. The creatures smoked little pipes, some sitting, others waving at each guest or at one another.

The couple was that sort of workborn, infuriatingly jolly and kind.

At least the kidnapping would knock some of the edge off.

Chief Vance rolled down his foggy window as a Norrington guard peeked inside the sedan, prompting the nervous sergeant to open the metal gate in a rush. It swung forward with a rusty screech, the noise echoing off the sleepy streets.

The driver pulled forward into a line of Sioux Falls cruisers that filled the driveway.

“I’m your tech consult, Chief Shaw,” Lila said. “Don’t address me by name.”

“What am I to call you, then? Hey, you?”

“Works for me.”

Tags: Wren Weston Fates of the Bound Crime
Source: readsnovelonline.net