Page 23 of Sinful Promise
“Miss Alexander?”
“I-I tripped on him,” she whispers.
“What?”
“I tripped on him.” Determined, she meets my eyes with steel in hers. “I wasn’t watching, and then I literally, like…” she gestures toward the sidewalk outside the car. “I fell on him.”
“Did you hurt yourself?” Fletch is a compassionate man in general… a caretaker ever since he had a baby girl who needed him. So he leans in closer to take a new look at our one and only eyewitness. But that doesn’t stop Tandy’s blush, or my impatience. “Do you require medical attention?”
“No, I…” She shakes her head. “I’m okay. But I… I hurt him. I wasn’t paying any attention at all, so I—”
“He didn’t feel anything.” Gentle, Fletch pats her hand. “He’s not in pain anymore.”
“So you stumbled on him?” I insert. “Did you fall all the way over, flat on your belly, or was it more of a kick?”
“Like… My knee hit his chest,” she chokes out. “And my hands caught my fall. But I’m… I-I’m fine.”
“Did you jump up right away?”
“I’ve never moved so quickly in my life,” she whispers. “I said sorry. Like, I apologized for bumping into him, the way you say sorry to someone in the street. It was just a reflex, ya know? Not even something I thought about. Then I saw his face.” Fresh, fat tears roll along her cheek. “I saw he was all messed up. And that’s when…” Her breath catches on a sob. “I screamed,” she whimpers. “Really, really loudly. I screamed until my throat hurt. I wanted to call the police, but I must’ve dropped my phone when I fell, because I couldn’t find it at first.”
“You did the best you could,” Fletch comforts. “You did the right thing, Tandy.”
“It’s all smashed up.” She turns the device over to show off a cracked screen. “I guess it hit the sidewalk. But I found it just…” She tilts to peer past us both. “Like, a few feet away from him. I found it and then called 9-1-1.”
“And here we are. Do you know the man?” Fletch asks. “Have you ever seen him before?”
She shakes her head, but stops after a moment and nods. “I see him running sometimes. We don’t talk, not even a friendly hello. But I remember his face. He’s usually very handsome.”
“You don’t know his name?” I ask.
She bites her lips closed. “No.” Reaching up, she swipes a dribbling tear from her cheek and hiccups. “He’s bleeding so much. And his leg is—”
“It’s okay.” Fletch pats her knee again and goes back to writing notes in his little book. “Has anyone else come by since you found him? Any cars drive past? Any people come out to get a look at what’s happening?”
She drags her bottom lip between her teeth and shrugs. “A couple, I guess. Cop cars make everyone look.”
“Any you recognize?” I press. “Any that passed more than once?”
* * *
“She’s a broke college graduate who got another man’s gray matter on her jeans today.” I make my way through the George Stanley lobby and into the elevator to head up. “She’s spacey and immature,” I continue. “Too absorbed in her life and art to notice anyone else.”
“Which is fine for her.” Fletch moves in beside me and slaps the button for the ninth floor. “But it sucks for our dead dude. Our killer might’ve ridden by on a fucking unicycle while juggling chainsaws, and Tandy wouldn’t have noticed unless it served her somehow.”
“But no one else heard the collision?No one?” I lean against the back wall railing and exhale as my brain turns over our newest case. “How is it that not a single other soul heard the car screech to a stop?”
“Maybe they didn’t stop.” When the elevator doors slide open on Minka’s floor, he starts out. “Maybe it was a through and through. Driver mowed him down and kept going.”
“Hit-and-runs are usually accidents,” I counter. “Then the perp bolts because they’re terrified of getting in trouble. But first, they slam on the fucking brakes.” I reach Minka’s office door first and push it open. “Besides, there was rubber on the road.”
“Could’ve been someone else’s.” On the threshold, Fletch stops with a grin whenthreewomen stare back at us.
Minka slumps at her desk, her home away from home, with poor posture and a steaming mug of coffee near her hand, while Aubree sits on the arm of the leather couch that Minka’s predecessor left behind before retirement. The third…
“Miss Sera.” Fletch presses a hand to his heart and quick-steps his way across the room to perch his ass on the edge of Minka’s desk. He has his back to my wife, while his eyes scour Seraphina Lewis’ shrewd expression. “You’re looking entirely edible today. It’s good to see you back at work.”
“Well… I think I’m done in here.” With a roll of her eyes and a huff of exasperation, Seraphina pushes up in a skirt suit that stars in all of Fletch’s filthy fantasies, and heels not quite as tall as her usual. Though she already looks perfect, she nervously fixes her blazer and meets her boss’ gaze. “I’ll come by later to finish this.”
