Page 24 of Hart of Darkness
Miladin eyed me as he climbed out of his cruiser. The man was quite different in the daylight. His dark eyes were a deep blue, like the ocean off the coast of the Bahamas. I’d seen pictures of the island and had immediately put it on my bucket list for a rainy day when I had money to take a vacation.
Miladin moved a piece of his amber-brown hair out of his eyes as he gave me an award-winning smile that could melt a girl where she stood.
I batted my eyelashes, mainly to appeal to him so he would give me information. “Do you remember me?”
He stepped up onto the sidewalk, undressing me with his eyes. He was definitely deciding if I was someone he would want to take to bed.
Standing out in the open with cops filtering in and out of the building, I began my own assessment of Miladin, who I guessed to be in his twenties. Some women went all gaga over a man in uniform—cops, military, and firefighters—but not me. I didn’t see the draw. Still, Miladin was super easy on the eyes, with his broad chest, flat stomach, and muscular arms.
“The reporter, right?” He had one of those voices that would be good on the radio—distinct, clear, and sharp.
“Boston Eagle.The guy you arrested last night. You got a name? Is he associated with the Black Knights?”
He chuckled. “Nothing I can tell the press. Sorry, sweetheart.”
My nose twitched. The word sweetheart always rubbed me the wrong way, thanks to Cory, and whenever I heard that word, I wanted to scrub my hands until the first layer of skin peeled off.
I clamped down on my tongue. Officer Miladin didn’t need my wrath. But his good looks were downgraded to somewhat ugly.
He sauntered past me and went up the stairs and into the precinct.
I shook off my annoyance and took the steps two at a time. I went to open one of the double glass doors, when Ted strode toward me with a cigarette ready to light. The man was going to die from nicotine before he got shot on the streets.
I backed away to let him through. It was better to talk outside and not around his team. That way, I had his full attention.
As soon as he was outside, he lit up, took a drag, sighed, and blew out the disgusting smoke.
I choked.
He marched down the steps and over to a police cruiser. He used the hot metal car as his anchor. “You look tired.”
“You look like shit too,” I responded as I mimicked his move, resting my butt on the cruiser.
He puffed on his cigarette and blew out fancy circles.
Again, I wanted to gag. The smell reminded me of my foster days, drunken men, and bad memories. “Those things will kill you.”
“So will chasing bad guys,” he said. “What brings you down here?”
“Am I still cut off?”
He flicked ashes to the ground. “Next question.”
The need to stomp my foot like a two-year-old was strong. “Come on. I want a story.” I strapped on my sweet voice.
He dragged his index finger and thumb down over his graying mustache as he considered my statement, or maybe he was trying to find another way to tell me no. “What I can tell you is the guy we arrested isn’t talking. So don’t ask me if he’s part of the Black Knights. What I can say is his name is Dan Silva.”
His name didn’t ring a bell. “What was he arrested for?”
Ted narrowed his eyes. “Not open for discussion.”
No surprise there.Maybe Misty, my source, could shed some light on that name.
Onto my next task… I dug into the front pocket of my messenger bag and held up Grace’s picture. “Have you seen this girl?”
He flashed his dark eyes at Grace. “I’ve seen a lot of girls, Mags. Faces are all running together these days. You know old age is setting in. Anyway, who is she?” His voice went up slightly. Ted was in his forties and had a hard look about him.
“Grace Hart. She went missing four years ago. I’m helping out her brother. He’s been on the hunt for her since then.”
