Page 19 of Detectives in Love
The rest of the ride to the Rishetor Center passes in silence. Xavier sits with his eyes closed, while I try to focus on the Rishetor case files. But no matter how hard I try, lines fromThe Weekend Heraldkeep slipping into my head, pulling my focus away.
I glance up from the folder, my eyes landing on Xavier. His sharp features feel almost unreal—like he belongs in a painting, not crammed into the back of a taxi with me. My chest tightens as I think about how lucky I am to have met him—this brilliant, impossible man who saved my life and upended everything I thought I knew about myself.
Even now, just sitting next to him, my breath catches. I force myself to look away, exhaling slowly, trying to think about anything else.
Of course, I’m in love with Xavier. I’ve suspected that for a while.
He’s a study in contrasts—brilliant, sharp, untouchable, but also steady and loyal in a way most people never see. That side, the one hidden under all the sarcasm and wit, is the part he only shows me. And I love both.
I push the thought away like I always do, knowing that if I ever fully gave in—if I let myself love Xavier the way I want to, even for a second—it would ruin everything. Our friendship. The balance we’ve built. And me, most of all. Because I wouldn’t be able to hide it from him or go back to the way things were.
“I can hear you thinking,” Xavier says suddenly.
“What? Oh. Sorry,” I blurt, snapping back to reality. My face heats up as I glance at him, caught off guard.
He turns to the window. “We’re here.”
I glance outside. Up ahead, tall gates mark the entrance, an iron sign overhead readingRishetor Research Center. A security booth sits just before the gates, stationed to check anyone coming through.
The taxi slows, then rolls to a stop.
CHAPTER 5. EX
“I have to admit, we weren’t expecting you, Mr. Ormond,” Penelope McKinley says, her surprise barely masked as she greets us at the gate.
“It was a last-minute decision,” Xavier replies with a polite smile.
Last-minute, sure, I think. You never know when Xavier will decide to steal another case from Willand.
Penelope gives a quick nod to the security guard, then swipes her card against a white sensor, and the gates unlock with a click. She gestures for us to follow her inside.
She’s tall, mid-twenties, with striking red hair and a crisp lab coat. Xavier and I met her about a week ago at the Hilton morgue—Rishetor sent her to handle the paperwork after Henry Wakefield’s death. She’d been Wakefield’s assistant for the past year and a half, and from what I gathered, she’d taken his death hard.
“Mr. Rishetor only mentioned Chief Willand’s visit,” Penelope says as she leads the way.
“We’re here on his orders,” Xavier lies smoothly, flashing that signature, charming smile of his. It never ceases to amaze me how easily he shifts personas.
“Will Mr. Rishetor be available to see us?” I ask, keeping my tone polite.
“He’s away at the moment,” Penelope says quickly. “He’s on a business trip for the next two weeks. In the meantime, Miss Fairfax is handling things, so she may meet with you instead. Excuse me.”
She pulls a black walkie-talkie from her pocket and presses a button. The device crackles to life.
“Perfect time for a business trip,” I murmur to Xavier.
He nods.
“Yes?” a soft female voice comes through the walkie-talkie.
“Mr. Ormond and Mr. Doherty are here, ma’am,” Penelope says, turning slightly away from us.
“Who?”
“They’re from Chief Willand’s unit. The police,” Penelope explains.
A brief pause. Then the voice responds:
“Bring them to the lobby. I’ll be down shortly. Thank you, Penny.”
