Page 43 of Heist

“I’ve had four or five ounces of scotch over the past few hours.”

“Perfect. This is not a job an inebriated person could have pulled off. Slur if you want.”

Patrick huffed. “I can hold my liquor. I’m not slurring.”

Austin patted him on the leg. “There’s that dominant pride I was talking about. I never said you couldn’t hold your liquor.”

Patrick laughed. “Fair enough, but I’m still not slurring.”

“Fine. How far from my apartment are we? I haven’t been paying attention to where we are.”

“About fifteen minutes, Miss Austin,” he said, glancing at his phone.

“Thanks, Hunter.”

“I believe that’s Master Hunter to you,” he said with a teasing wink.

“Fuck off, we’re not at Solitaire.”

Patrick fisted his hand into her hair. “Try that again. You’re still mine and you will be respectful.”

Austin winced and pulled away, but Patrick kept his grip tight.

With a heavy sigh, she gave Hunter an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Hunter.” She purposely left off the Master part because damn it, they weren’t at Solitaire.

Patrick let go of her hair when Hunter’s lips quirked upward. “It’s fine, I was only teasing you. Though, I do have to say I was hoping for a spanking show.”

“Pervs. All of you,” Austin said with a huff.

“Guilty,” Hunter and Elijah said in unison.

Austin spent the rest of the short ride to her apartment drilling the importance of not volunteering information to the police.

“I worked for the DA for the first few years of my career. They mean it when they say they’ll use anything you say against you so just keep your mouth shut.”

She ignored the scowl Patrick gave her. She had a feeling she was going to pay for her bossy demeanor later, and it sent a little thrill through her system. That made her feel a little guilty considering the seriousness of the current situation.

When they pulled up in front of Austin’s building, the group piled out and made a ruckus about saying goodbye, much to Austin’s amusement.

When the police stepped out of her building, he watched as Austin transformed from his date to his attorney, though really that transformation had begun a half hour ago.

“Are you Patrick Sutton?” one of the officers asked, holding up his shield.

When Patrick nodded, the detectives introduced themselves.

“We’re investigating the disappearance of valuable property. Can you tell us where you were tonight between five o’clock and two in the morning?”

“That’s an awfully big window, officer,” Austin said. “Care to narrow that down at all?”

“Unfortunately, that’s the window of opportunity we have at this time.”

“And why is Mr. Sutton a suspect?”

“You a lawyer or something, lady?”

Austin gave him a tight smile and pulled a card from her purse. “Thorley and associates, Austin Yates. Consider Mr. Sutton my client.”

“We just need to know where he was so we can verify his alibi, lady.”

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