home and get some sleep. Not that he hadn’t done this a hundred times over the last ten years. Stayed up for twenty-four, thirty-six or more hours. It was part of the gig. What made him wonder about his mental state wasn’t that he was sleepy. It was that all he wanted to do was sit in Maxwell’s diner across from Mia Traverse and watch her eat. Sip her iced tea.
Nope, it didn’t make a damn bit of sense. But there it was.
4
“I PREFER JANE AUSTEN, personally,” Mia said as they returned to Hush later that night. “Pride and Prejudice. Emma.” She gave herself a little hug. “So wonderful.”
“Would my manliness come into question if I admitted I like her books, too?”
Mia looked up at him with a broad smile. “I think you’re safe in that respect, Detective.”
He slowed his pace, wondering if he was about to make a big mistake. Screw it. He only had three more months to get through, and they were going to be working together. “It’s Bax.”
The back of her hand brushed the back of his. The briefest of touches, probably an accident. And yet it made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a hell of a long time.
“I know,” she said. “Baxter Milligan. What I can’t figure out is if the name is Irish or Scottish.”
“Both is my guess. The Milligans were on the border between England and Scotland, from Wigtown, in fact. From what little my grandfather told me, the young lads had issues with geography.”
“Have you been there?”
He shook his head. “But if the writing works out, I mean really works out, I might like to settle in Ireland.”
“Won’t you miss living here?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, his pace so slow they were almost standing still. Thing is, he didn’t want the conversation to be over. “I don’t have real close ties. A brother in California, a sister in Boston. We hardly see each other.”
“Why not?”
He had to think a minute but before he could even suppose at an answer they were in front of the hotel.
Suddenly there was a crowd of people surrounding Mia. Someone shouldered him back a step, then a camera hit him in the ribs.
“Who killed Gerry Geiger?”
“Why are Bobbi and Danny only taking half their regular salaries?”
A dozen more questions shot like gunfire over the flashing camera lights. He ignored it all in his need to get to Mia, to get her out of the center of the storm. Taking no precautions, he barreled through, not caring one damn that there were cries of protest and pain. Especially when, to his horror, Mia yelped as she fell over some moron’s camera case.
Bax was there in a heartbeat, kneeling down, scared shitless and mad enough to put the whole lot of them behind bars or worse.
“Mia?”
She blinked up at him. “Whoa. That wasn’t very pleasant.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He took her arm and helped her sit up as flashes went off all around them. He wanted to shove the cameras down some throats. For Christ’s sake, they weren’t celebrities. None of those pictures would mean a damn thing.
The moment he could see she hadn’t been seriously hurt, he turned on the paparazzi. “Get the hell away from her.”
Instant quiet. No more camera flashes.
“You found the body. Any clues there who killed Geiger?” some guy shouted from the edge of the crowd.
“Are Danny and Bobbi having an affair?”
“Why was Geiger on Weinberg’s payroll since the Mexico shoot?”
“Come on, you must know something, huh!”
Bax checked Mia once more. “You okay? Should I get an ambulance?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Just a little bump on my butt is all.”
“You sure?”
She squeezed his arm with her small hand. “Positive.”
“Good,” he said, then stood up, pulling her along with him. She seemed steady on her feet.
He swung around, lifting his badge as he faced the bulk of the crowd. “Two seconds and I’m taking you all in for a hard forty-two. Is that clear enough for you bastards, or do you want to get a tour of Rikers?”
The photographers flew apart as if blown by a tornado, and that’s what Bax felt like. This whole event had been unacceptable and it was all he could do not to bust some heads.
Of course, most everything was unacceptable these days.
“I should have been more careful,” Mia said as she brushed off the back of her jeans. “They never leave. I’m surprised they didn’t catch us when we left for dinner.”
“They were busy. Swarming in front of some other victims.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“Are you really okay? I can get you to the hospital in a couple of minutes.”
“I’m fine. But it’s late. I should go, get home. So should you.”
He took her elbow and led her into the hotel. It was calm and cool inside, with some good jazz coming from the bar. As they got closer to the reception desk, he saw that the restaurant was still busy, the bar packed. He wondered how many of the night crawlers were part of the film company. How many were there because they wanted to meet the celebrities.
“Thank you, Bax,” Mia said as she stopped in front of the elevator. “I had a good time.”
Her smile hit him again in that long-dormant center of his brain where women had once had free rein.
“You owe me the rest of your story.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” he said.
She pressed the down button. “I’ve got to scoot to get my train. Be careful out there, Detective.”
“I always am.”
She left him standing in the lobby, under a picture of a very exotic naked lady who was sitting perilously close to a jaguar. He needed to go home. Get some sleep. Start tomorrow fresh and on his game. But hell, who was he kidding? There was no way he was letting Mia get home on her own.
MIA WENT TO THE LADIES room mirror to make sure she didn’t have a big old bruise on her behind.
She wasn’t about to freak in front of Bax, but wow, that had been really scary. For a minute there, she’d thought those whack jobs were going to trample her to death.
Bax. He’d asked her to call him by his first name. That meant something. And he’d been all over those paparazzi when she’d tripped. Just remembering his voice gave her the shivers. So forceful and commanding. She’d practically swooned into his arms, which, now that she thought about it, was pretty bizarre. She wasn’t the swooning type. She was the one her friends called when swooning occurred.
So why was she feeling like such a girl?
And what had that one pap asked about Geiger and the Mexico shoot? Was she remembering right? Probably not. She’d been pretty distracted, what with falling on her behind.
Back in the locker room to fetch her backpack, she met up with Lorraine, one of Piper Devon’s assistants. They talked a bit about the murder. Lorraine hadn’t worked yesterday, but she’d heard all kinds of things today.
“Geiger’s wife is planning to sue the hotel and the movie company for millions.”
“Really?” Mia sat