McGee was still processing the phone call — Fauwks's voice in her ear, "it's to die for," the trace failing — when her phone buzzed again.
Different number. The one she'd saved that morning.
*Hey. If you're not busy this evening, maybe we could hang out? Get a drink or something?*
She stared at it.
Twenty minutes ago, a killer told her he's in D.C. Now the British guy from the bar was asking her for drinks tonight.
Her hands were shaking. She didn't know why.
Hannah looked over. "What?"
McGee showed her the phone.
Hannah read it. Looked at McGee. "Are you going to go?"
McGee didn't answer. She just stared at the text.
*Get a drink or something?*
After everything that just happened — after Fauwks's voice, after "my lady," after D.C. — this felt like a lifeline. Like something normal.
She typed, deleted, typed again.
*Tonight's bad — work stuff. But I'm free tomorrow night?*
She stared at it. Her thumb hovered over send.
She was thinking about D.C. Two hours away. If Anderson sent them, she'd be gone tonight, back who-knew-when. But tomorrow — tomorrow might work.
She hit send.
Then she looked up at Hannah, who was watching her.
"What?" McGee said, defensive.
"Nothing." Hannah smiled a little. "Tomorrow night. Good."
McGee looked back at her phone. Waiting for the buzz.
It came.
*Tomorrow night it is. I'll pick the place.*
She smiled despite everything.
---
They didn't get sent to D.C. Not yet. Anderson wanted more intel first.
So after a long day — the dead ends, the phone call, the texts — McGee went home.
She spread the case files on her kitchen table. Photos of the ballroom. The timeline. The fake AV tech's fake name. She tried to focus.
But her phone was next to the files. And every time it lit up — even when it was just a spam email — her heart jumped.
She tried to go back to the files. But her eyes kept drifting to the phone.
Her phone buzzed.
*Hey. Just bored, seeing if you're doing anything. Shoot me a text if you want.*
McGee stared at it. She had crime scene photos spread across her table, a timeline on her laptop, and she was smiling at her phone like a teenager.
She should be working. She knew she should be working.
She picked up the phone.
*Just going over some files. Boring stuff. You?*
She hit send before she could stop herself.
The reply came fast: Same. Boring stuff. Wish I was there with you.
McGee's face went warm. She looked at the ballroom photo. Then back at the phone.
She closed the laptop. Pushed the files aside. Carried her phone to the couch and curled up.
*What kind of boring stuff?*
*Work stuff. You don't want to know.*
*Try me.*
She was laughing — actually laughing — alone on her couch with crime scene photos ten feet away.
*I'm a detective. It's a murder case. That's all I can say.*
*Ooh, mysterious. Should I be worried?*
*Only if you've killed anyone lately.*
*Not lately.*
She was grinning. She couldn't stop.
*What's your favorite movie?* he asked.
*That's a hard question. Depends on my mood.*
*Pick one. Right now. Go.*
*Fine. The Princess Bride.*
*Classic. Good choice. Mine's Shawshank.*
*Also classic. We have good taste.*
*We do. What else are we good at?*
*Pool, apparently. You almost beat me.*
*Almost doesn't count.*
*It counts in my book.*
*What do you do when you're not solving murders?* he asked.
*Who says I'm not solving one right now?*
*Multitasking. Impressive.*
*I'm very talented.*
*I noticed.*
McGee's face was burning. She pressed the phone to her chest for a second, then kept going.
*What about you? What do you do?*
*This and that. Bit of consulting. Nothing exciting.*
*Consulting what?*
*Wouldn't you like to know, Detective.*
*I would, actually. That's kind of my thing.*
*All in good time. Tomorrow night, maybe I'll tell you.*
*That's not fair.*
*Life's not fair, love.*
Love. He called her love. McGee stared at the word.
*Okay, my turn,* she typed. What's something nobody knows about you?
There was a longer pause this time. Then:
*I talk to myself when I cook. Full conversations. It's embarrassing.*
She laughed so hard she snorted.
*That's adorable.*
*Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain.*
*What reputation?*
*Suave British mystery man. Can't ruin it.*
*Your secret's safe with me.*
*Good. What's yours? Something nobody knows.*
McGee thought for a moment. Then typed:
*I wanted to be a veterinarian when I was little. Until I found out you had to do math.*
*That's the best thing I've heard all week.*
*Don't laugh.*
*I'm not laughing. I'm charmed.*
There was a pause. Then:
*Can I tell you something? A bit serious.*
*Of course.*
*My father used to say that the law is a locked door, and justice is the key. But most people never get a key. They just stand outside, knocking.*
McGee frowned at her phone. That was — heavier than she'd expected.
*That's bleak,* she typed.
*Is it? Or is it just true?* A pause. He was a good man, my father. He believed in the system right up until the day it failed him. Failed someone he loved.
*What happened?*
*Someone with money did something terrible. Walked away clean. Lawyers, connections, the whole thing. My father never got over it. Neither did I, I suppose.*
McGee sat up a little on the couch. This felt real — like he was actually telling her something.
*I'm sorry,* she typed.
*Don't be. It was a long time ago. It just — shaped how I see things, you know? The people with power, they play by different rules. And nobody stops them.*
*That's why I became a cop,* McGee typed before she could stop herself. To be someone who stops them.
There was a longer pause this time. Long enough that McGee wondered if she'd said the wrong thing.
Then: I know. That's one of the things I like about you.
Her heart did something complicated.
*You don't even know me,* she typed.
*I know enough.*
She stared at those three words. Then:
*Tell me something else. Something happy.*
*Happy? Let me think.* A pause. I make a terrible shepherd's pie but I keep trying. One day I'll get it right and it'll be glorious.
She laughed, and the heaviness lifted.
*I'll hold you to that. I want to taste this glorious pie.*
*Tomorrow night? I'll cook.*
*You cook?*
*Badly. But with enthusiasm.*
*Deal.*
They kept going. About nothing. About everything. His terrible attempt at making pasta. Her inability to keep a plant alive. The bar. The pool game — he insisted she'd cheated on the eight ball, she insisted he was a sore loser.
He asked what she did to relax. She said she didn't remember how.
*Tomorrow night,* he texted. I'll remind you.
*Remind me of what?*
*How to relax.*
McGee set the phone on her chest and stared at the ceiling.
The case files were on the kitchen table. The ballroom photo. The timeline. The fake name.
She didn't get up.
---
Eventually, she made her way to the bedroom. She didn't bother changing — just kicked off her shoes and climbed under the covers, phone still in her hand.
She read his last text one more time.
*How to relax.*
She smiled in the dark.
She fell asleep thinking about Tom.
Chapter 23