Quintic (48 page)

He started
laughing.
“Then you should talk to your
guy. He’s the only other one that knows.” Double damn, as if
Christopher was going to tell her anything.

“
This isn’t
still about Lemieux, is it? About me, ah,” she had almost confessed
her past sins with Lemieux, “Hum, knowing him?”

“
Fuck,
no. But your Lemieux guy
had very peculiar tastes. You must be quite something for him to
want to sleep with you over and over and over. Not that I blame
him; I’m already stuck on you, and I don’t
know
you yet the way he
did.”

He had lost
her. “What
are you talking about? I only
went out with him a couple of times. Christopher knows that, you
obviously know that too now, and the whole goddamn team must know
it too by now.”

“
Maybe you
did, but Lemieux didn’t.”

“Hamilton, are you drunk?”

He started
laughing again, “Not drunk. Look, Pussy Cake. You should talk to
Chris, OK?” Talked to him about what? She was NOT talking to
Christopher about Lemieux. “OK, Doll?”

She caught
herself frowning big in the bathroom mirror. To think she had been
happy before the call. “Okeydokey.”

“
OK then. It
was good talking to you. I shall have sweet dreams now.” She heard
him cursed softly. “But Doll, give him a break, OK? Chris has a lot
on his mind
.” A lot he
doesn’t want to tell me
. “Good night
Patricia.”

She stuck
her tongue at the phone. “Good night Hamilton. Thanks for
nothing.”

“Give me a break, Pussycat.
Maybe he’s just worried about you. Maybe we all are.”

“
No way. I
resigned, remember? You guys have nothing left to worry
about.”

“
Yah right.
Nobody believes you resigned for real. At first, we thought he had
fired you. Or suspended you like before. And before. He didn’t, did
he?” She didn’t bother answering. “Didn’t think he had. We have a
pool going. How long you’re going to stay away. Everyone failed;
nobody had given you more than a week. Friday, we revised our bets.
You think tonight’s phone call should count?”

“
Get lost,
Hamilton.”

“
I’d like
to. Between your legs.
” A cross between a
Neanderthal and an ape crossed with the missing link. His voice
turned soft, “Good night to you, Baby Doll.”

Well, that
had led her nowhere, but since the water was still warm, she sank
into it and tried to relax. The small bathtub was a new addition to
Christopher’s bathroom. Apparently, infuriating cop men living
alone only took manly showers.

“A gift from me to you,” he had
told her. “Wouldn’t want you to move into a place without a bathtub
however teeny it is.”

She had
ignored his innuendo then; she still discarded it tonight. Head
leaning on the rim, eyes closed, the same pose as Christopher out
there on the couch. Nope. The bath wasn’t working for
her.

She replayed
her conversion with Hamilton.
She liked
the guy a lot. How could she not, he was so alike Christopher? A
cheaper, rougher, meaner, damn sharp yet less refined version of
Christopher. And he was, well, all sexed up and too much to handle,
worse than Christopher as if that was possible. At least with
Christopher, she knew it was only for her all the time, but with
Hamilton, it seemed to be just all the time in a sleazy kind of
way.

W
as the man as bad around all
women? Christopher said no, but she had yet to see it live. How did
other women react to him? Hamilton was popular with the ladies.
Surely, he didn’t pick up women with his sleazy lines, did he? She
should learn to be stoic like Reid, instead of reacting to
everything he said. Although, when she thought about it, he didn’t
say much to Reid, so her friend hadn’t much to be enduring about.
Besides, she recalled Reid smacking Hamilton on the back of the
head once or twice, so perhaps the woman was not that tolerant
either. What did it mean, though, that Hamilton did not tease Reid
often? Hum.
I might have to
investigate
.

They Talk at
Night

T
he damn woman finally turned off
the radio. Turned off the tap too.
I hoped you’re not falling asleep in there,
Pussycat
. He might enjoy rescuing her,
but, knowing, she wouldn’t appreciate his efforts. A pussycat and
her baths.

She came out
after what
felt like forever. She didn’t
look sleepy, which was good. She didn’t look all that serene or
horny either, which wasn’t so good. She had put his bathrobe on.
Too big for her, it gaped at the front when she forgot to hold the
two lapels together. For now, her grip was tight. No invitation as
of yet. Too bad, he was about ready to top her.

“
You missed
the end of the film, Princess.”

“Did I?”

A
firm
clasp on the damn robe, she sat in
front of him on the coffee table, knees pressed together. Still no
invitation. Damn. She looked at him. He looked back and waited.
Something was up.

“
Christopher, I’ve been thinking.”

Fuck no
. He had had plenty of
experience with that one line. In her mouth, that line was not an
innocuous conversation-starter. Disaster in the making every
fucking time. She had soaked for a good half hour, all alone in his
tub. With her imagination, who the fuck knew to what conclusion her
mind had jumped to.

“
Yes
, Angel. What have you been
thinking about?” Let it be sex, he prayed, albeit already knew it
wouldn’t be. Had it been, she wouldn’t have had to talk. And she
wouldn’t be wearing the fucking robe.

“Lemieux.”

Alarms went
off in his head. Fucking trouble with a capital
T
. His face showed no
reaction. “What about him?”

She moved to
sit on his lap, legs folded on the couch, knees flanking his sides,
her thighs squeezing his lightly, hands forever clutching the
fucking robe. Albeit he had so much more experience, training and
muscles, right now, he was at a definite disadvantage. First of
all, she was naked under that robe. He knew it; she knew he knew,
and she knew he always found her damn arousing. A major breach in
his line of defence. Second, sitting like that, she would feel him
twitch. Desire. Lie. He was quite a proficient liar, even better
than her, which said a lot because she was a master of half-truths
and pretences. But her eyes gave her away when she fibbed, his
didn’t.

Although
straddling him as she
was, it wasn’t his eyes he was worried about. The faintest
instinctive quiver on any part of his body, she would pick up on.
She had before. Unless he side-tracked her. He happened to sport a
boner he intended to put to good use. Not yet though, since for
now, she acted as if she had not noticed his state.

“Christopher, what happened
today?”

“Work, that’s what
happened.”

“
Something
else happened in Lemieux’s case.”

“
Patricia,
it’s only work. Nothing to worry about.”

“
Worry? Who
says I’m worried! Right now, I think I’m more angry than concerned.
I
know
I’m more irritated than troubled. Whatever it is, I think
you should tell me; I might be able to help. After all, I knew the
guy.”

“
You can’t
help;
you fucking resigned,
remember?”

“Is that was this is about? You
want me to come back to work?”

“
Hell no. No
way. Never. I want you to stay out. End of discussion.” He knew he
wasn’t handling the conversation well, but fuck, he had meant every
word so far.

“
What do you
mean ‘
Hell no. No
way,’
” she mimicked. “May I remind you me
going through the cold cases was your idea in the first
place?”

“
My idea?
Fuck, Princess! What I remember is you plotting to get in. Filing
clerk my ass. I don’t know whom you bribed to get the job in
Archives in the first place, but since you got yourself promoted to
my office, all you do is snoop around and disturb my team.” A clear
exaggeration on his part. She excelled at keeping the team in check
and on their toes, and he couldn’t deny she had also helped on a
lot of the cases. Her presence in his department was disastrous for
his peace of mind, yes, but unexpectedly helpful for the team
nonetheless. But both Lemieux’s case and the body at the diner were
getting too close to her,
again
, and he wanted her out of
the way. Safe.

“
I do not
disturb your team! You’ve got some nerves. And you don’t think your
team is not
disturbed
these days without me? They all believe that you
fired me. They even got a damn pool going!”

That got a
smile out of him. Who had told her about that? His secret bet was
never; he would see to it. “Nobody’s going to win because you
resigned and, trust me, for once you’re staying resigned. And
you’re also suspended. You are not working on Lemieux’s case,
understood?” OK, maybe suspending her was a bit premature. But it
would give her something to look forward to, did she ever decide to
come back.

She looked
at him, head crooked to the side. A pose of hers. Damn sexy but
dangerous. She had somethi
ng in that
lovely head of hers. “The guys seem to think I can show up to work
whenever I want.”

“The guys are wrong. And they
all know if I catch any one of them letting you in on a case, any
fucking case, any fucking way, I’ll throw them out of the
team.”

“Anyone?”

“Anyone. Charles is already
holding on by a thread.”

“
I wasn’t
thinking about him. More like Hamilton.”

Ham?!
What the fuck? Why had she talked to Ham? When?
Ham would have told him for sure. She was fishing. “Yes, even
Hamilton.”

“
That’s sad,
isn’t it? You won’t have anyone to work on Lemieux’s case with
Charles. You know Charles is not ready to work a case alone. So you
need me. I’m good with Charles.”

“You’re not working with
Charles.”

“
If you
hire
Hamilton back, I can team up with
them.”

“I didn’t fire Ham yet. Just
you.”

“You didn’t fire me.”

“Patricia. It’s not going to
work.”

“What’s not going to work?”

“
Whatever
you’re attempting to do.”

“
I’m trying
to get you to tell me about your day as normal couples do. They
tell one another about their life and stuff.”

“We’re far from normal the both
of us, aren’t we? Work, that’s what happened!”

Up to now,
the tone of the conversation had been somewhat playful. Not
anymore, “This is all because I slept with him, isn’t it? What’s
the big deal? It was two years ago. I’ve slept with other guys
since then. I’ve moved on, and so should you!” She pushed away from
him in a huff, but he held her down by her thighs, partly holding
her thighs, partly gripping the robe.

“This is not about you and
Lemieux.”

“
What is it
about then? If it’s not about him and me, what is this
about?”

Damn, she
was magnificent, half-naked and angry. None of her look-alikes came
even close. “Lemieux.”

“
What about
Lemieux? What? Christopher James MacLaren, you are infuriating!” He
just smiled at her.
So damn
sexy, Pussycat
. “Stop looking at me like
that; we’re having an argument here, damn it!” She took a deep
breath and glanced at him sideways. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I can
find out another way.”

“
Patricia,
you quit, and you’re staying out.”

“
I changed
my mind. I
should finish the job. It
wasn’t right of me to leave in the middle of an ongoing
investigation.”

“No. You’re not coming back.”
He was going to have to keep an eye on her.

“
I
am
coming
back; you can’t stop me. The team expects me back. Besides, you
know I never leave things half-done.”

“
Yes, you
do. You do it all the time with me. So no, you’re not coming back.
You don’t want to resign? Fine. You’re fired.”

She looked
stunned for a
beat, then burst out
laughing. “
Mon
chéri
, really. What’s the point? All I
have to do is show up at work, act as if I’m back, and that will be
it. I’ll have a chat with Frédéric. I hope you put everything in
the electronic files for me to see.”

The
damndest woman was right. He could have her
arrested for breaking into the office; it was a damn police station
after all, but who was he kidding? Besides, if Fred didn’t give her
the files, Mario would.

She had
promised not to have her hermit hacker friend break into the police
system without telling him
first. Chris
trusted she wouldn’t break her promise, but she had promised
to
tell
him, not ask for his fucking permission.
Think fast,
MacLaren
.