“What is your name, please?” someone with a heavy southern accent asks.
“Lyre Jennings. I’m a heart surgeon at General Hospital.”
“One of your neighbors across the street reportedly saw a man of your description running away from the scene,” the other cop says. “Do you know anything about that?”
“No…nothing.”
“The suspect was carrying something and running towards this address. Are you sure you don’t know anything about that?”
“Why would I know something about that? I was inside my house…it’s early.” He doesn’t sound convincing. Not at all. I have a feeling he’s going to mess this up.
“Okay, then. Would you mind if we asked a couple of questions?”
Oh shit! They’re going to look for holes in whatever he says, and if they find them, they’re taking him in for questioning.
“Ask away.”
“How many gunshots were fired?”
“How would I know?” he answers too quickly. He sounds irritated.
“You don’t know?” The detective sounds shocked. “A gun is fired right outside your house, and you don’t know how many shots went off?”
“No!” There is a short pause. “I didn’t hear anything.”
I roll my eyes. He’s denying the wrong thing. Everyone on this block will have heard those shots. The detectives will know he’s lying. I need to do something and fast. It’s that, or they’ll arrest Lyre. The harpy won’t come out of hiding if he’s in jail. I rush towards the bathroom. There was something in there that might help us get out of this mess.
9
Lyre
This isn’t good. I can see by the look in Detective Coleman’s eyes that he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying.
I don’t blame him. I’m messing this up.
“Can we come in?” the other detective asks. Detective Coleman takes a step forward, but I hold my ground.
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s early, and I need to start getting ready for work. You’re wasting all of our time. I’ve answered your questions.”
“Why haven’t you asked me if anyone was hurt?” the other detective asks. I can’t remember his name.
“I didn’t hear or see…” I look outside, sure to look up and down the street, “an ambulance, so I’m assuming not. Was someone hurt? As I said, I’m a doctor, I can help.”
“No, not that we know of,” Detective Coleman says. “I’m finding it hard to believe you didn’t hear anything, though.”
“I—”
“Is everything okay, babe?” I hear a voice behind me. I have to school my emotions. I want to groan and then curse and then tell that meddling pain in the ass to—
My jaw drops as I turn. I take a step back, letting the door go. The two detectives grab the opportunity to take a step or two into my house. I hear one of them groan softly, the other pulls in a deep breath.
Holy fuck!
I agree with their sentiments. Morgan is wearing my shirt. The one I had on yesterday. I’m giving it to her because it looks better on her than it ever did on me. It’s button-down and pale pink. It’s creased because she fished it out of my laundry basket. It comes to about mid-thigh. She has great thighs. The top couple of buttons are undone, and, just as I suspected, she’s no man. Definitely all fucking woman. I thought I filled out my shirts. I don’t. Not like that.
Fuck!
“What’s going on?” She leans against the jamb and folds her arms, plumping up her tits. Both of those detectives are jealous of me right now. I don’t have to look at them to know it’s true. Her short hair is mussed…but fuck it makes her even hotter. Her lips are pink. They have that just sucked on look. How did she do that?
“Um…” one of the detectives says.
“Um…we were…” the other stumbles over his words too. I don’t blame them.
“There was a shooting outside…as in, right outside,” I say to Morgan. “That’s why the detectives are here.”
“Oh!” Her brows shoot up. “When?” She looks concerned.
“Not that long ago. Am I right, detectives?” I say, raising my brows too. “There’s nothing to worry about. Whoever did the shooting is gone.”
“About twenty to thirty minutes ago.” Detective Coleman clears his throat. “Your…this… We’re struggling to understand how it is that you two didn’t hear anything. Did you hear the shots being fired, Miss…?”
“Ohhhhh.” Her eyes widen. “That makes sense now. I might have heard something.”
“You did?” I ask, frowning.
“I think I might have, but I can’t be sure.” She chews on her lower lip. “Um…you see…” She giggles. “We were…um…we were busy at the time.”
Oh my god, that’s genius. Why didn’t I think of that?
“Busy as in…?” the one detective asks.
“We were…” She giggles again.
“We were fucking,” I say, my voice low. I try not to look at Morgan because I might get a hard-on if I do. I haven’t had sex in a long time. I’m beginning to think that Gabby and I never happened. I’m glad. I regretted the whole thing even before I realized my power was gone.
“Oh,” the detective says.
“Still,” Detective Coleman narrows his eyes, “sex or no, you didn’t hear four shots fired right outside? Your neighbors from three houses down called it in first. They heard just fine.”
Morgan chuckles. Her voice is husky. “Not if your partner is doing it right, detective,” she says. Morgan saunters over, slips under my arm and presses herself against me. “That was hands-down the hardest I’ve come…ever.” Her voice is a soft, sexy purr. I can feel her soft breasts. I think her nipples are hard.
She shifts slightly. Yep, they’re hard. Fuck! I’m about to get hard myself.
Detective-whatever and Detective-who-cares drop their jaws. Their eyes widen. Detective-whatever shifts from one foot to the other, looking grossly uncomfortable.
“I guess that’s what they mean by fireworks,” Morgan goes on. “I might have heard those shots, but I thought they were fireworks going off.” She rubs my chest with her hand and squeezes my ass with the other.
I grit my teeth to stop from jumping a foot or two into the air as her hand closes over my glute. “I didn’t hear a thing…babe,” I murmur. “Except your screams.” I take a handful of her ass through my shirt and wish I hadn’t.
Fuck!
She’s lush all over. I want these guys to leave so that I can put her against the door and— What? No! That isn’t going to happen. I let go, moving my hand up onto her lower back. Right back into the safe zone. She doesn’t do the same. I’m pretty sure I have a semi. How fucking embarrassing.
“Okay…well…” one of them says.
“I guess that makes sense,” Coleman says. “Call if you think of anything.” He hands me a card.