aisling grimlock 03 - grim discovery

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Nothing,” I said, holding up my hand to placate him. “I … I’m sorry.”

  Griffin knit his eyebrows together. “For what?”

  “I shouldn’t have bothered you,” I said, glancing around to find the bulk of the division office empty. “I finished work and I was down here and … .”

  “You didn’t want to go home,” Griffin finished.

  “I thought we could get lunch,” I added. “It seemed like a great idea until I realized I was bothering you at work and you probably wouldn’t appreciate it. I’m so sorry. I’ll go.”

  Griffin reached out and snagged my wrist before I could move away. “Why do you think you’re bothering me?”

  “This is your job.”

  “Wow, I hadn’t noticed that,” Griffin said dryly. “You’re welcome here whenever you want. You know that, right?”

  Actually, I didn’t know that. “I’m still sorry.”

  “Well, I’m happy to see you,” Griffin said. “You have good timing. I was going to get a sandwich from the vending machine, but now that you’re here we’ll go out. How does Mexican sound?”

  I nodded, relieved. “Thank you.”

  Griffin got up from his chair and pulled me in for a quick hug. “You don’t have to thank me for lunch,” he whispered. “Although, if you want to repay me with a special treat later, I won’t put up a fight.”

  I knew he was going for levity and I appreciated it. I was about to give him a dirty preview when the frame on his desk caught my attention. There was a photograph of us inside of it. Jerry took the photo a few weekends earlier. I had no idea he’d given it to Griffin. “That’s me.”

  Griffin shifted his attention to the frame. “You’re kidding. I wondered who that chick was.”

  “You put a photograph of us on your desk.” I couldn’t help but be surprised.

  “I think that’s what most couples do,” Griffin said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

  I couldn’t help it. “It feels like a big deal,” I said. “I … I’m desk worthy.”

  “You’re definitely worthy,” Griffin said, slipping his arm around my shoulders and tugging me close to kiss my cheek. “Come on. If we get moving now we should be able to slip in between lunch crowd rushes. I know a nice place around the corner.”

  I slipped my hand in his and let him lead me toward the exit. That’s when Andrea Black, Griffin’s new partner – who looks as if she could double as a model in her off time – slipped through the door. Her eyes widened when she saw us. “Oh, hey. I didn’t know Aisling was here.”

  “She stopped by to surprise me for lunch,” Griffin replied. “We’re going now. I won’t be gone too long. We need to finish the paperwork on the Travers case.”

  “I’m sorry to steal him,” I offered lamely.

  “Oh, no,” Andrea said, smiling brightly. “It’s great you stopped by. If he didn’t have that photo of you on his desk, I wouldn’t have realized you two were still together.”

  It was a pointed jab. Only a woman could recognize it for what it was, though. “Well, at least he has the photo.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Griffin said. “I talk about you nonstop.”

  “I guess I must be absent from the room when he does that,” Andrea said. “I’ve been dying to get to know you better. Griffin and I spend so much time together. I’d like to spend some time with the other woman in his life.”

  I narrowed my eyes. I knew what she was doing and I didn’t like it. “Well … maybe we can carve out some time for lunch down the road.”

  “Or maybe I should just go with you guys now,” Andrea suggested. “I’m not busy. What better time than the present?”

  Griffin opened his mouth to argue. He was caught. We both knew it. There was no way he could shoot Andrea down without appearing rude. “Sure,” he said finally. “That sounds great.”

  “I’ll just get my purse.”

  The look Andrea shot me was full of something I recognized from my high school days with Angelina Davenport. She thought we were competing. If there was one thing I was good at, it was winning.

  “Bring it on,” I muttered.

  “Did you say something?” Griffin asked.

  “No,” I lied. “I’m really looking forward to lunch.”

  “Yeah. I have a feeling it’s going to be a … special occasion.”

  I had a feeling he was right.

  Twenty

  “This is a nice place,” I said, smiling as Griffin pulled a chair out for me. Paco’s Mexican Grill looked like a dive from outside. Inside, it was one of those hidden Detroit gems that only locals know about.

  “We come here at least once a week, don’t we, Griffin?” Andrea asked, taking a seat on the other side of her partner. “The food is great and it’s very… private … for when we want to talk.”

  Griffin narrowed his eyes. I could almost see his mind working. Something was off about Andrea’s behavior and he was having a hard time identifying it. He wasn’t a woman, so he didn’t understand female competition when it was on display. Men hit each other and thump their chests when they want to throw down. Women are much more passive aggressive and sneaky.

  “I usually eat lunch at my desk,” Griffin said finally, glancing at me. “I like to focus on the job so I can get out at a decent hour.”

  “Oh, you know we have lunch together all the time,” Andrea chided.

  “Actually I don’t know that,” Griffin countered. “You usually go out every chance you get, and sometimes you bring me something back. I … honestly, I think this is the second time we’ve been here together.”

  “Men have such horrible memories,” Andrea said, rolling her eyes for my benefit.

  “Whatever,” I muttered, reaching for one of the laminated menus at the center of the table. “What’s good here?”

  “You’ll like the mini burrito dinner,” Griffin said. “They have great hot sauce, and you can dip the burritos right in it.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Oh, it’s cute how he tells you what to order,” Andrea cooed.

  “I know what she likes to eat,” Griffin shot back. “There’s a lot of takeout in our world. She’s kind of a picky eater.”

  “Is that because you grew up with a personal chef?” Andrea asked. “Word around the precinct is that your family is filthy rich. That must be nice for you, Griffin.”

  “I don’t care about her father’s money,” Griffin replied, knitting his eyebrows together. “Am I missing something?”

  I decided to put him out of his misery. I was too keyed up to play childish games … well, at least for today. Besides, if I wanted to play games like this I’d rather do it with a big dog like Angelina. At least she doesn’t try to pretend she’s my friend while she sharpens her claws on my carcass.

  “Andrea is trying to make me jealous about your relationship with her,” I supplied. “She’s trying to insinuate you two spend a lot of time together. She’s hoping I’ll get insecure and make a scene.”

  Andrea’s mouth dropped open, stunned by my candor.

  “I figured it had to be something like that,” Griffin said. “I grew up with a sister so I know about squabbling girls, but I don’t recognize all the bells and whistles when it comes to stuff like this.” He patted my knee under the table. “Don’t worry. You’re all the woman I can handle.”

  Andrea’s face was hard to read, but I could tell she didn’t like being called on her behavior. “I don’t know where Aisling gets ideas like this … I was doing nothing of the sort.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to go with Aisling’s take on this,” Griffin said. “You’re acting weird and her explanation seems to fit. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Aisling knows you’re not a threat to her.”

  I wanted to laugh … or maybe crow. Griffin added a new element to the game. Because it benefitted me, I was happy to see it play out.

  “I think Aisling might be a little insecure,” Andrea s
aid. “I understand that. You’re an attractive man … and the two of you don’t seem to have much in common.”

  “Aisling has nothing to be insecure about,” Griffin countered. “I don’t want anyone but her. As for having things in common … I think we do fine. We had a great time playing softball this weekend and every meal with her family is like living in a soap opera. I can’t get enough of it.”

  “I heard about the softball game,” Andrea said. “Is it true Aisling has a dance for when she wins?”

  Griffin smirked. “She’s promised to teach it to me when we get a little time alone together. I’m really looking forward to it.”

  Andrea’s pasted-on smile faltered. “It doesn’t bother you that she did that? Adam couldn’t stop talking about it.”

  “Adam couldn’t stop talking about it because the pants she wore for her little dance were … spectacular,” Griffin said. “I’ve made her promise to wear them when she teaches me the dance.”

  “I also have a dance for when I lose,” I offered. “It’s not nearly as charming.”

  “Oh, I’ve seen that dance, too,” Griffin said dryly. “I think it starts with the Risk board being tossed in the air and all those little pieces flying across the living room. Then Jerry gets involved and does a little dance with a feather duster and vacuum. You two could win an award for that dance.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. “I warned you that we were all poor losers.”

  Andrea didn’t look thrilled with the turn in the conversation. “It must be hard for you to not have any time alone together,” she said. “Don’t you have a roommate, Aisling?”

  I nodded. “Jerry doesn’t get in our way.”

  Griffin snorted. “Thankfully, Jerry is distracted most nights by Aisling’s brother. He’s always there to cook the world’s best breakfast in the morning, though. I think I’ve gained ten pounds since we started dating.”

  “Well, it sounds like you two have it all figured out,” Andrea said.

  “I’d say we’re pretty happy,” Griffin said, the remark pointed. “What are you doing after lunch, Aisling?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I … .” I tilted my head as a familiar profile caught my attention at the bar. The man sitting there was thin – almost unusually so – and his nose hooked at the end. He chatted up a willowy blonde even though she kept turning her back to him. She clearly wasn’t interested, although he didn’t seem to understand her overt disdain.

  “What are you looking at?” Griffin asked, turning to follow my gaze. “Do you know him?”

  “Oh, is that an ex-boyfriend of yours, Aisling?” Andrea teased. “He looks about your speed.”

  “I’m not sure,” I said, racking my brain. “I think I should know him. I can’t quite seem to remember from where.”

  Griffin’s stiffened, and while I was sure Andrea didn’t notice from across the table I could feel the tension roll through his body. “Do you think you know him from … work?”

  I knew what he was asking. I didn’t have an answer, though. “It’s more that I think I might know him from when I was a kid. Maybe we went to high school together. He looks familiar … but I can’t place him.”

  “He looks like a tool,” Andrea said. “That probably means you two dated, right?”

  “I think that one was a dig at me,” Griffin said.

  Andrea’s smile slipped. “I … that’s not what I was saying,” she protested. “It was only a joke. I don’t see why you two think I’m going after you.”

  “Maybe because you’re not that good of an actress,” I suggested, keeping my gaze on the man at the bar. “I … .”

  The man picked that moment to shift on his stool and our eyes met across the busy restaurant. He appeared puzzled at first and then recognition flared at the exact moment I remembered him.

  “Oh, crud,” I grumbled.

  The frazzled waitress appeared at the edge of the table. “Do you know what you want?”

  “We’ll have two mini burrito dinners with hot sauce,” Griffin ordered for both of us.

  “Is this on one or two tabs?”

  “Two,” Griffin said. “She and I are together.” He gestured toward the two of us while keeping his focus on my blast from the past. “She’s on her own.”

  Andrea made a disgusted sound in the back of her throat. “I’ll have the taco salad. No cheese. No sour cream. No guacamole. No olives.”

  That sounded gross. “So, what, you’re going to eat lettuce, tomato and onions?”

  “No onions,” Andrea said. “I don’t want to turn anyone off with my breath this afternoon.” She shot a pointed stare in Griffin’s direction.

  Once the waitress left with the order, Griffin shifted in his seat so he could study me. “How do you know him?”

  “His father works with my father,” I explained, choosing my words carefully. “We used to have family … retreats … when I was a kid. I think his name is Everett.”

  Griffin’s eyebrows flew up. “Seriously?”

  “Am I missing something?” Andrea asked, her gaze bouncing between us.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Um … I think I’m going to get reacquainted while we wait for our food.”

  “Maybe I should go with you,” Griffin offered. He didn’t seem thrilled with the prospect of separating. “I’d love to meet him.”

  “I think you should stay here and entertain Andrea,” I said. She was the wrench in today’s wheel and I couldn’t risk her overhearing my conversation with Everett. “Maybe you could show her something shiny and really wow her.”

  “Very funny,” Andrea snapped.

  Griffin wasn’t convinced. “Don’t even think about leaving this restaurant,” he said, his voice low.

  “I have no intention of going anywhere.”

  “If he looks down your shirt I’ll punch him.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Not if I punch him first.”

  EVERETT’S smile was a little too “cat that ate the canary” as I approached. He recognized me. I was sure of it. I wasn’t sure why he appeared so excited to see me.

  “Aisling Grimlock … as I live and breathe,” Everett said, extending his hand. “It took me a few minutes to place you but … wow … you got hot.”

  “You didn’t,” I said, wishing I could pull the words back the second I uttered them. “You do look distinguished, though.”

  “You’ve always been a mouthy little thing, haven’t you?”

  “I think it’s in my genes,” I said, hopping onto the stool next to Everett. “I did a double take when I saw you, too. I knew I should recognize you, but it took me a second to remember from where.”

  “What are you doing down here today?”

  “Having lunch with my boyfriend and his partner. What are you doing down here today?” The odds of Everett just happening on the same restaurant a few days after I met with his father seemed astronomical. Still, I couldn’t determine how he’d know where to find me otherwise.

  “I had a business meeting with our accountant,” Everett replied. “He works out of the Renaissance Center.”

  “That’s still quite a way from here.”

  “I used to eat here when I was a teenager,” Everett explained, not missing a beat. “My high school girlfriend lived around the corner. I thought it would be fun to stop in and see if the place still looked the same. He looked around the dining area and bar. “It does.”

  “I thought your high school girlfriend was imaginary,” I teased, although I couldn’t completely tamp down my edginess.

  “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” Everett shook his head and chuckled as he reached for his glass of wine. “You’re still a petulant pain in the ass. Your boobs have filled out nicely, though.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “My boyfriend carries a gun. Maybe you should say that a little louder.”

  “Your boyfriend seems … otherwise engaged.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and found Griffin and Andrea
in the middle of what appeared a tense conversation. I had a feeling it had more to do with her attitude than his interest, but there was no way I was getting Everett involved in that situation.

  “It’s kind of interesting that we’re running into each other today,” I said. “I had lunch with your father a few days ago. Did he tell you?”

  “He did,” Everett said, his gray eyes predatory. “He liked your boobs, too.”

  If Everett was trying to make my skin crawl, he was doing a bang-up job. “That’s what they’re there for,” I shot back, nonplussed. “Did he tell you what information I was looking for?”

  “He did,” Everett said, shifting on his stool. “It seems like a weird time to be asking about your mother. Shouldn’t you have been curious about this stuff ten years ago?”

  “I’m slow sometimes.”

  “You look like you could be fast sometimes, too,” Everett said, winking.

  “You’re still a sick pervert, aren’t you?”

  “I can be as perverted as you want me to be.”

  “I don’t want you to be anything with me but honest,” I shot back. “I want you to tell me what happened the night you reaped my mother.”

  “Oh, Aisling, do we really have to do this? You know it’s against the rules,” Everett sighed. “Your mother was resigned to her fate. She was stoic. There’s not much more I can tell you.”

  “You mean there’s not anything more you will tell me,” I corrected. “Where did she go?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have no idea what my mother believed,” I admitted. “She was all over the place when it came to religion. She was fascinated by it, but she never pressed any religious belief system on me. Where’s her final resting place?”

  “I … don’t really remember,” Everett said. “It was a long time ago. You can’t expect me to remember something from so long ago. You should know where her soul was heading. You are her daughter, after all.”

  “Did you see her body when you reaped her?”

  Everett wrinkled his nose. “Please tell me you’re not going to go to that horrific place.”

  “I don’t want to know what it looked like,” I said. “I want to know whether you saw it. Did she die in a hallway? Was she in someone’s apartment? Where was she in the building?”