Page 8 of Liar's Point

“Brady. Owen and I were talking to him after you left the station house.”

Her brown eyes flashed with annoyance. “Well, why’d he choose me?”

“He probably figured you’d want a chance to drop in on your boyfriend. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is I hate autopsies.”

Nicole’s weak stomach was legendary. But Emmet got the sense there was more to it.

“Trouble in paradise?” he asked.

She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. “I just don’t see why it has to be me on this one,” she said, ignoring his fishing expedition. “It sounds like Brady’s leveraging my personal relationship to work a case.”

“People do it all the time. That’s how the system works.”

She twisted the top off and shook her head.

“I can cover it for you, if you want,” he said.

“Good. You cover it. I’ll reach out to the family about logistics.”

“Anyway, suicide or not, a death on the beach is going to be news,” he told her. “If it’s fentanyl-related, even more so.”

Emmet sipped his beer, watching her. She seemed anxious. She probably wanted him out of here in case her boyfriend showed up.

He glanced around her apartment. He hadn’t been over here in months. Well, except for a few late-night drive-bys. He wasn’t sure why he’d come tonight of all nights when he was likely to bump into David, and he could have easily handled this by phone. But making things easy wasn’t in Emmet’s DNA.

He checked his watch. “I’m headed over to Finn’s to meet Calvin and Kyle,” he said. “You want to come?”

“It’s almost midnight.”

“So?”

She shook her head. “I’ll pass.”

Her phone chimed on the counter, and she reached for it. A worried look came over her face as she answered the call.

“Lawson.”

Emmet watched her shoulders tighten as she listened.

“Yes, sir.” Her eyes met his. “All right. Well, I was talking to Emmet, and he offered to cover it.” Her jaw tensed. “Okay.” Another pause. “Yes, sir.” She turned away. “All right, will do.”

She set the phone down, and Emmet knew what she was going to say before she turned around.

“That was Brady.” She crossed her arms. “I’m on the autopsy.”

He smirked. He’d known Brady would insist on her going.

“Why are you gloating?”

“I’m not.” He took one last sip of beer and set the bottle on the counter. “Thanks for the drink.”

Emmet headed for the door. She reached around him to open it, and he wished there was something he could say to get her to come out with him.

He should just let it go. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Sure you don’t want to come out with us?” he asked.

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