just want sex?” He couldn’t help himself. He started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
He shook his head, watching her, unable to controlthe grinning, even though it pissed her off. “You. You’re just—”
Her glare intensified.
“Forget it,” he said.
“What?”
“Mia, no offense, but you’re full of it. When was the last time you went out with a guy and didn’t want anything out of it but sex?”
“I don’t know,” she said, although clearly the answer was never. “But maybe I will. Maybe I’ll call Vince Moore back. I doubt he’s looking to pick out dishes. And he’s pretty ripped, too. It might be fun.”
Ric’s humor evaporated. “That guy’s an asshole, Mia. Stay away from him.”
His phone buzzed, and Ric checked the number. His boss. Damn it, this wouldn’t be good. He turned off the ringer.
Mia shoved her key into the lock and turned to face him, blocking the door with her body just in case he thought he was getting an invitation inside.
“You need to be careful,” he said as his phone vibrated, making a dull rattle against his car keys.
“I didn’t ask you for dating advice.”
“I’m talking about your safety,” he said. “Pay attention to your surroundings. Get a security guard to walk you to your car if you need to work late. Keep your alarm on when you’re at home. And if anything unusual happens, call me.”
She just looked at him.
“Are you listening, Mia?”
“Be extra careful. Got it. Anything else you wanted to share?”
Another sound from his pocket, and he yanked the phone out. “Santos. Hold on.” He looked at Mia. “Lock up tight tonight. And don’t forget—”
“To set my alarm, I know. You’d better go, Ric. Sounds like you’ve got somewhere to be.”
CHAPTER 8
Sophie’s brow furrowed with concern the second Mia stepped through the glass door. “Whoa, what happened to you?”
“What?” Mia jerked the scarf from around her neck and stuffed it into the pocket of her coat.
“You look like you just ran over a puppy. Everything okay?”
“Bad day in court.” She tugged the ID badge out of her purse and clipped it to her blouse. She didn’t want to talk about it right now. She didn’t want to do anything besides slip into her lab coat and bury herself in work. “Any calls come through?”
“The usual. Detectives desperately seeking updates. I put them through to your voice mail. Oh, and one in particular called three times. A Detective Moore. Vince was his first name? Not sure I’ve met him.”
“You’d remember it,” Mia said. “He’s cute.”
“Cute as in Levi’s ads or cute as in I’d look like an Amazon next to him?”
“The first one.”
“Good to know.” Sophie held out a stack of pink messageslips, and Mia tucked them into her pocket. “And FYI, that guy Darrell’s looking for you. The one from the Cave,” she added, referring to the basement offices where the data technicians worked.
“Good, because I need to talk to him.” What Mia really needed was to escape before Sophie could pin her down for more details. She started for the elevator bank. “Hey, if I don’t see you before I leave, good luck at your gig tonight.”
Mia made a dash for the elevators and squeezed into one right before the doors closed. She rode up to the sixth floor with a DNA tracer and a couple of guys from Cyber Crimes. She wondered if any of them had ever been ripped to shreds by the illustrious Russ Pickerton. Probably not.
The doors dinged open, and she stood face-to-face with Darrell. His eyes lit up.
“I was just looking for you. Where you been all day?”
“Court.”
She stepped out, and he fell into pace beside her. Darrell was tall and lanky and always seemed to be eating something. This afternoon, it was a chocolate-iced doughnut, and Mia’s stomach started growling.
“Got some news for you.”
“What’s that?” Please let it be good news. She needed something—anything—to salvage her
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