Page 17 of Midnight Auto Parts

Aside from locking gazes across an elevator at the hotel where Harrow had kidnapped Matty, we hadn’t interacted with one another. I would have preferred it to remain that way.

Had Carter not elbowed me, I wouldn’t have taken his hand, but I did it for her. “Same here.”

“Your tone says otherwise, but that’s fine.” He let go after holding on a second too long. “I understand it must have come as a surprise to learn we’ve kept an eye on you over the years. To find out the way you did, through Detective Harrow, who I understand is a friend of yours, must have been a bigger shock.”

The careful way he framed the delicate nature of my relationship with Harrow told me Leer believed the old adage about attracting more flies with honey than vinegar. He wanted on my good side, which made me question his next move.

“I see you giving Carter side-eye.” Leer tapped his temple. “But she hasn’t been spying on you for me.”

Curling her lip, she growled at her boss. “Frankie knows better than that.”

“Now?” I bumped her shoulder. “Not in a million years.” I pretended to think about it. “At the start…?”

“That’s fair.” She deflated on the spot, a cheddar puff bag crinkling in her fist. “I didn’t know you then.”

“Same.” I projected my sincerity at her. “I trust you.”

“And this must be the death god I’ve heard so much about.” Leer studied Kierce. “It’s a pleasure.”

With no one to nudge him, Kierce ignored the outstretched hand until Leer dropped it to his side.

A few weeks ago, I would have considered he didn’t grasp the social faux pas. Now? Oh, he knew.

“If you’ve heard so much about me,” Kierce said, his frigid tone lifting gooseflesh down my arms, “how is it you don’t know I am merely beholden to a death god and not one myself?”

To learn the 514 had been keeping tabs on Kierce since he entered my life wasn’t wholly unexpected—he was collateral to their interest in me—but hearing Leer admit it out loud didn’t earn him any points.

“It’s a turn of phrase.” I slid my hand into Kierce’s, offering him my support. “Nothing more.”

“Ms. Talbot is right.” Leer massaged the base of his neck in a calculatedaww shucksgesture I wouldn’t buy for a penny. “It’s the Southern gentleman in me.”

Head tilting at a hard angle, Kierce returned Leer’s frank assessment. “It makes you lie?”

A snort I turned into an unconvincing cough made my eyes water.

“Southernisms veer toward politeness,” he admitted, “rather than the literal truth.”

“I prefer the literal.” Kierce rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand. “I prefer the truth.”

“Boss.” Carter jerked her head toward her truck. “Let me give you an update.”

“We’re all friends here.” He spread his smile around our circle. “I’m sure they’re already in the loop.”

“We’re not friends,” Kierce informed him without hesitation. “I do not wish to hold your hand.”

I buttoned my lips fast enough to hold in my guffaw this time, but my eyes leaked tears.

“You mean the handshake?” Leer frowned at his palm. “It’s a human custom I’ve adapted over time. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“I need to make some calls.” I tugged Kierce toward the wagon. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Ms. Talbot.” Leer took a healthy step in my direction. “What do you think of our little organization?”

“Boss,” Carter hissed at him, proving he was improvising. “What are you doing?”

“Ms. Talbot has been instrumental in solving two major cases in the past couple months. Her natural talent for investigation can’t be taught.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I wanted to thank her in person for her efforts on our behalf.”

Certain this was heading nowhere good, I murmured, “You’re welcome.”

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