Read Online Dying Dreams (Book 1 of Dying Dreams Trilogy) by Katharine Sadler - Free Book Online
Authors: Katharine Sadler
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pick up a suspect. He might have handled things differently if he’d paid more attention to Liza on the beach that night. And he might be wrong, he reminded himself. She could be a great actress and guilty as hell, or he could be letting his attraction and hormones see something in her that wasn’t there.
Fulsom watched him like he knew what he was thinking. “Want me to talk to her? I’m the one who fucked this up. If I’d known about the banshee thing sooner…”
Sloane shook his head. “No, we’ll play this like we always do. I’ll go in and be an asshole and you go in and pick up the pieces.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m damn good at being an asshole.”
Sloane couldn’t dig up even a smile at that. “Why change what’s always worked?” And on some level, he wanted to go in there and be an asshole. He didn’t want her to like him, didn’t want to find out what would happen if she turned those big, brown eyes on him and showed him kindness or the kind of heat that had flashed in them when he’d shown up at her door.
Sloane walked out and knocked on the door of the interrogation room. He braced his shoulders, took a deep breath, and put on his best angry face.
“Come in,” Liza called, her voice sugary sweet and weakening Sloane’s resolve for just a moment. Man up , he muttered to himself. He threw the door open, slammed it behind him, and stomped into the room. Probably a bit over the top, but it got her attention, her eyes had somehow gotten wider and she was sitting up straight in her seat.
Sloane paced the room, throwing his weight around, trying to look intimidating, not daring to look at her face. If she started crying, he’d lose it and have to send in Fulsom. “Tell me how you know Louella,” he demanded, his voice rough and growly.
“Fuck you,” Liza said.
Sloane looked at her and, instead of tears, he saw her cheeks red, her eyes flashing. “Excuse me?”
“What? You can’t hear me over the sound of your own arrogance? Who the hell do you think you are? I called you. To help you. I skipped out on work and pissed off my boss, because you asked me to. Now, you’re going to storm in here like a spoiled toddler and expect me to tell you anything when you speak to me like that?”
Shit, he’d overplayed it. He hadn’t overplayed it since his first year. She’d just… and he’d… shit, he was screwed. But he couldn’t back down, or he’d look like the good cop and he was supposed to be the bad cop. She’d never trust him if she figured out the whole thing was an act. He had to carry it out as they’d planned. He turned and glared at her. “You expect me to believe you’re here to help? You give us the name of someone you have no way of knowing and you don’t think we’re going to pull you in and wonder who the hell you’ve been talking to? Who the hell you’re involved with?”
Her mouth dropped open and she just stared at him for a long moment. “If I was involved why would I call you and give you a name I’m not supposed to know? How does that make any sense, Agent Rice?”
Work with the fae long enough and all sorts of crazy things started making sense, Sloane thought. It wouldn’t be the first time a fae had implicated herself, just to laugh while he and Fulsom chased their own tails and the person they should have been chasing got away. Every fae he’d ever met, who had half an ounce of backbone, hated him and his organization, hated the registration, and took pleasure in fucking with him. Sloane could have explained all of that to Liza, but it served no purpose. Or he could have told her they suspected she might know someone who knew something and had overheard that name. Instead, he sat on the table, so close to her he could smell the sweet, flowery scent of her shampoo. He resisted the urge to sniff and try to place the brand or the flower. He leaned over and got in her face, feeling horrible when she sucked in her breath and clenched
Fulsom watched him like he knew what he was thinking. “Want me to talk to her? I’m the one who fucked this up. If I’d known about the banshee thing sooner…”
Sloane shook his head. “No, we’ll play this like we always do. I’ll go in and be an asshole and you go in and pick up the pieces.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m damn good at being an asshole.”
Sloane couldn’t dig up even a smile at that. “Why change what’s always worked?” And on some level, he wanted to go in there and be an asshole. He didn’t want her to like him, didn’t want to find out what would happen if she turned those big, brown eyes on him and showed him kindness or the kind of heat that had flashed in them when he’d shown up at her door.
Sloane walked out and knocked on the door of the interrogation room. He braced his shoulders, took a deep breath, and put on his best angry face.
“Come in,” Liza called, her voice sugary sweet and weakening Sloane’s resolve for just a moment. Man up , he muttered to himself. He threw the door open, slammed it behind him, and stomped into the room. Probably a bit over the top, but it got her attention, her eyes had somehow gotten wider and she was sitting up straight in her seat.
Sloane paced the room, throwing his weight around, trying to look intimidating, not daring to look at her face. If she started crying, he’d lose it and have to send in Fulsom. “Tell me how you know Louella,” he demanded, his voice rough and growly.
“Fuck you,” Liza said.
Sloane looked at her and, instead of tears, he saw her cheeks red, her eyes flashing. “Excuse me?”
“What? You can’t hear me over the sound of your own arrogance? Who the hell do you think you are? I called you. To help you. I skipped out on work and pissed off my boss, because you asked me to. Now, you’re going to storm in here like a spoiled toddler and expect me to tell you anything when you speak to me like that?”
Shit, he’d overplayed it. He hadn’t overplayed it since his first year. She’d just… and he’d… shit, he was screwed. But he couldn’t back down, or he’d look like the good cop and he was supposed to be the bad cop. She’d never trust him if she figured out the whole thing was an act. He had to carry it out as they’d planned. He turned and glared at her. “You expect me to believe you’re here to help? You give us the name of someone you have no way of knowing and you don’t think we’re going to pull you in and wonder who the hell you’ve been talking to? Who the hell you’re involved with?”
Her mouth dropped open and she just stared at him for a long moment. “If I was involved why would I call you and give you a name I’m not supposed to know? How does that make any sense, Agent Rice?”
Work with the fae long enough and all sorts of crazy things started making sense, Sloane thought. It wouldn’t be the first time a fae had implicated herself, just to laugh while he and Fulsom chased their own tails and the person they should have been chasing got away. Every fae he’d ever met, who had half an ounce of backbone, hated him and his organization, hated the registration, and took pleasure in fucking with him. Sloane could have explained all of that to Liza, but it served no purpose. Or he could have told her they suspected she might know someone who knew something and had overheard that name. Instead, he sat on the table, so close to her he could smell the sweet, flowery scent of her shampoo. He resisted the urge to sniff and try to place the brand or the flower. He leaned over and got in her face, feeling horrible when she sucked in her breath and clenched
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