Page 51 of Midnight Coven

His dark eyes returned to the road. Nick realized Morley was actually driving the car, not leaving it on auto-drive like most of the uniforms and other detectives did, even Jordan. Cop cars had the capacity to do both, of course. They needed the option to switch to manual if something went down that required it.

But most didn’t bother for routine driving.

Some didn’t bother driving themselves even when they should.

Morley really did belong to a different era.

Or maybe a different place, like Nick.

James Morley glanced at Nick, almost like he heard that.

His dark eyes sharpened somewhat, as did his gravelly voice. “Anything you want to tell me about these deaths, Midnight?”

Nick grunted. His eyes shifted to the passenger window.

“Like what? I’d have to know something first, boss,” he said.

Morley grunted that time. “Yet you always know more than you want to let on.”

Nick looked at him.

A low chuckle burst out of him, in spite of himself.

“Well ain’t that just the pot calling the kettle black.” Nick grunted. “Or is that saying too old for you to know what the fuck I’m talking about?”

“No. I get it. I read books, Midnight.”

“Books? Those things still exist?”

Morley didn’t seem as willing to let himself be amused.

“You don’t know anything about why someone might be killing people with the name Tanaka?” he pressed.

Nick exhaled, dropping his feeble attempt to sustain some kind of good humor.

“No,” he said more frankly. “I really have no fucking idea. Believe me, I’ve been thinking about it.”

“But that thing in San Francisco? What you told us about? Is that––”

“I mean, it’s gotta be connected, right?” Nick exhaled in exasperation. “That can’t be a damned coincidence. It just can’t.”

When Nick glanced at Morley, he saw something in the other male’s eyes relax.

The other detective seemed relieved that Nick was in agreement with him about that. Or maybe he was just relieved Nick wasn’t in full blown denial. Or maybe he was relieved because Nick didn’t wasn’t playing footsie with him about how bad it looked.

“So what do you think, then?” Morley asked. “You don’t have an alter ego running around, do you, Midnight? Some split personality thing I need to be worrying about?”

Nick knew he was joking, but he wasn’t amused.

Partly because he knew the car was jam-packed with surveillance, and someone was undoubtedly listening to this back at I.S.F. and NYPD headquarters.

He gave his friend an annoyed look.

“Are you seriously fucking interrogating me again? After what they just put me through?” He folded his arms, not hiding his irritation. “I figured you would’ve been all over the I.S.F. reports before I recovered enough to walk out that door. If the lawyer didn’t convince you I’m innocent, how the fuck did the I.S.F. report not do that? They wouldn’t even let me leave until I’d drank five bags of blood.”

“I read it.”

“And?”

---