Pure Blood_ A Nocturne City Novel - Caitlin Kittredge [45]
“Gotcha,” I muttered, folding the photocopy and shoving it into my jacket pocket.
“You can’t—” Shelby started, but Patrick waved his hand.
“It’s fine. Take it, if it helps.”
“Thank you so much, Uncle Patrick,” said Shelby, standing up. “We’ve taken up too much of your time.”
“Don’t be silly,” he exclaimed. “After this, I’m taking you two ladies to lunch. I don’t get to see you often enough, Shel.”
“Oh, darn it, I’m meeting Muffy and Jody at the country club to play badminton in an hour,” I said, snapping my fingers. “Maybe another time for me.”
Shelby latched onto my arm with a strength that was impressive, for a human. “We’re really swamped with this case, Uncle Patrick. Sorry.”
He stood up, grabbing his suit jacket off a hanger behind his desk. “I won’t hear it. Meet me downstairs at my car in ten minutes. I know a great little fish-and-chip bar down on the bay where we can all relax.”
Shelby slumped. “Okay. We’ll meet you downstairs.”
CHAPTER 14
In the elevator, she stripped off her blazer and crumpled it in a ball under her arm, looking like a deranged gun-toting librarian in her conservative blouse and waist rig. “Believe me, we’re lucky to be getting off with lunch,” she said. “The last time I introduced a boyfriend to Patrick, he took the guy duck hunting and plugged him in the shin with birdshot.”
“Accidentally?” I asked.
“No one ever figured that out for sure,” said Shelby. We rode the slow descent in silence for a few ticks and then she said, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked. “Trust me, I’m used to people being jerkoffs about the were thing. And sure, your uncle is a little overbearing, but I’ve seen worse. Much worse.”
“I’m not sorry for that,” said Shelby. “I just… forget it.”
I didn’t know what to say back to her. Shelby was trying to say she was embarrassed I’d seen her like this, the meek little good girl that hid inside the bossy detective. I knew it, because when I’d lived at home I’d been the same way. I was sorry for my father being a functioning alcoholic. I was sorry for my mother living deep within the mystical Land of Denial. Ashamed that I couldn’t mold my life to normal, no matter how hard I tried.
The elevator stopped on the twenty-fifth floor and a man so tall and wide he made me feel delicate stepped in. The car creaked softly.
“Shelby!” the giant exclaimed when he saw her. “My girl, why didn’t you tell me you were comin’ down today?”
A split second of animal panic passed across Shelby’s face and then she smiled back. “I thought you were traveling, Uncle Seamus.”
“No such luck for you, girl.” He chuckled. “What brings you around? And I’m terribly rude,” he said to me, extending his hand. “Seamus O’Halloran. They let me pretend I run this place.”
“Luna Wilder, Shelby’s partner at the Twenty-fourth.” I shook his hand, expecting another politician’s grip, and found my fingers nearly pulped in his enormous palm. I winced and tried to pull away, but he kept grinning and squeezing so I pressed back, letting him feel the were.
“Quite a grip!” he said, letting go of me. “Pleasure to meet one so lovely. You’re quite an improvement over the average flatfoot, my dear.”
I smiled, not meaning it at all, as I studied Seamus. I could see where Shelby got her almost Slavic looks from—Seamus had a shock of white-blond hair topping a powerful, florid face and blazing blue eyes. He was paunchy in the middle but still enormous, the kind of man that you wouldn’t screw with physically or any other way.
“Patrick is taking Luna and me out to lunch,” Shelby was explaining. Seamus laughed, a booming sound in the small space.
“You watch your ring finger, missy,” he told me. “Patrick’s the only O’Halloran never to take the plunge, and someone as beautiful as you is like dangling a steak in front of a starvin’ Doberman.”
“I never get tired of being compared to meat,” I said pleasantly. “Please, if you value your health, don’t ever do it again.”
Dead silence clamped