Page 19 of Royally Bad

“Stapler?” I blurted before I could stop myself. “And who are you, Officer Paper Clip?”

Officer Paper Clip stared at me flatly. “Have fun.”

I regretted my idiotic question; I blamed it entirely on my unstable mood. Turning, I watched as the detective at the table rose with a friendly smile. “Miss Sage, please, have a seat.”

Glancing around the blank room, I moved to the metal folding chair and settled on it across from him. “Detective Stapler, right? Listen, I don’t know why I’m here, but it’s all a mistake.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” he said, nodding seriously. “We’ll get it straightened out right away.”

I sank into my seat, breathing out. “Thank you. I need to get out of here fast; my mother, she’s not well, and she’s probably wondering where I am.”

“Your sick mother, is it?” he mused.

My nodding head stopped mid-motion. “I know that sounds like a cheap excuse, but I’m serious.”

“I’m serious, too, Miss Sage.” He slid his hands apart, and I finally noticed the pale folder he’d been resting his arms on. I didn’t know what was in it, but my nerves started to spark. “This situation is no joke.”

“Whatsituation?”

Stapler had fine lines over his bushy brows. Those lines crunched together, growing deeper as he spoke. “Tell me what you know about the Badds.”

“Almost nothing. I only met them yesterday.”

His chuckle scraped through my ears like old pottery over glass shards. “Funny, how could the maid of honor of their youngest daughter know almost nothing about her family?”

Pushing a hand against my forehead, I laughed weakly. “I get it. No, see, you’re confused.”

“I’mconfused? Enlighten me.”

“Francesca was just a client. I made her wedding dress. Yeah, I also ended up as her maid of honor ...” Plucking at my orange frills, I smiled at him as hard as I could, hoping he’d give in and smile back. No such luck. The tension remained. “It just kind of happened.”

“You’re telling me you became the maid of honor for a woman you only met yesterday?”

“It’s a funny story. You’ll laugh, I swear.” My chuckle came out as stiff as cardboard. “Her best friend sent some rude photos to her fiancé the night before the wedding. She was in a pickle, I stepped up. How could I not?”

Opening the folder with a flourish, Stapler slid a photo my way. Then another and another. Lifting them, I stared at the vibrant images of me waiting at the end of the aisle. There was even one of me from behind, and you could clearly see Kain’s hand on my ass cheek.

I was going to kill Kain. Seriously kill him. Tear-his-balls-off-and-dance-on-top-of-them kill him. Flushing, I pushed the photos back across the table. “I just admitted that I was her maid of honor, there’s no need to show me these.”

“There’s a story in those pictures, Miss Sage.” His grin cocked sideways, a fat finger jabbing at the photo of Kain and me. “You’re acting pretty familiar with someone you don’tknowso well. Or is this just how you are with strangers?”

“Fuck you,” I snapped. Swearing at a detective wasn’t my proudest moment, but being accused of being some kind of whore wasn’t winning him any points. “You’ve got everything all mixed up, and Istillhave no idea what you’re trying to prove.”

Stapler watched me closely. “You’re really telling me your only connection to these people was a wedding.”

“That’s all. Can I go?”

With careful pacing, he pushed two new pieces of paper at me. They were photocopies of checks; the payments from Kain for the dress and from his mother for the help with the party. “My math isn’t great,” he said slowly. “But this looks to be about thirty grand right here. Tell me, who gets paid thirty grand to make a wedding dress?”

Licking my lower lip, I met his serious eyes. They were kind of pretty for such a weathered man. “Is it a crime to get paid to help people out? Is that what I’m being charged with?”

“You aren’t charged with anything. Yet.” He shrugged. “Help me out. This looks suspicious to me. Here you are, walking closely with the children of Maverick Badd on the day of his daughter’s wedding. And then, after we raid their estate to find the illegal weapons they’re holding, you walk in here with thirty grand in your pockets from the family itself.”

“I didn’t walk in, you guys dragged me in, and—wait.” I stiffened. “Hold on. You’re saying you raided their estate because they were hiding weapons?” Reality tap-danced across my guts.

Stapler said, “The Badds have always been lawbreakers. Blackmail, greasing the palms of dirty politicians to keep things the way they like in this city. You name it, and they’re involved. I’ve even got a few homicides I suspect they’re responsible for.”

Homicides.The wobbling, too-tangible memory of Kain’s naked flesh crept through my memory. How his torso had rolled like the waves in a dark storm. How he’d been so perfect ... except for that single, puckered scar on his stomach.

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