“Maybe you need to visit an optometrist.”
“Never thought you were one to play by the rules. From what I’ve heard, you don’t think they apply to you.” Cade paused. “Makes me wonder if that’s what your involvement here is actually about.”
Graham’s jaw clenched. A muscle leapt in his cheek as his gaze flashed to my face for the span of a single heartbeat before returning to the detective. “We have a string of macabre sacrifices, no suspects, no resolution in sight. She’s been targeted. We still don’t know why or what their next move will be. It’s a damn mess. I don’t need you complicating things further by crossing the line.”
“Oh? You sure that’s it?” Cade’s smile was biting. “Or are you just pissed I found the balls to make my move first?”
Graham’s jaw was so tight, I thought his teeth might crack. “Watch it, Hightower.”
“Are you threatening a member of the force? Not smart, Graves. Even for someone with your connections.”
“Boys!” I interjected before this could further deteriorate, stepping between them with my arms thrown wide. “Enough. Hellfire and brimstone, what are you, fourteen years old? I don’t know what this pissing contest is about and, frankly, I don’t really care. Whatever your problems are… I’m sure you’re capable of working them out without this ridiculous show of machismo. Now, why don’t we all take a deep breath and—Hey!”
My squawk of protest was summarily ignored as Graham — who, sometime during my speech, had reached out, grabbed me by my outstretched hand, and yanked me to his side — began dragging me down the sidewalk, leaving Cade in the dust.
“Let go!” I hissed.
“No.”
“You’reembarrassingme!” I tugged futilely against his grip. “People are looking at us!”
He stopped walking, but did not release my hand. When he glared down into my face, I sucked in a breath at his thunderous expression. He was breathing hard, his self-control poised on a knife’s edge.
“We need to talk,” he clipped tersely.
“So, talk.”
“Alone.” His gaze cut back to Cade, who was still standing several feet away, watching things unfold. “It’s important.”
“I don’t care how important it is, I was in the middle of—”
“You can flirt with the dreamy detective later.”
I glared up at him. “You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that?”
“You have five seconds to say goodbye, or I’m throwing you over my shoulder.”
Gaia, save me.
That statement shouldn’t have been so damn hot. Nonetheless, a furl of pure heat bloomed in my gut, instantly incinerating the nervous butterflies that had taken up residence there. Tearing my gaze from Graham’s, I looked back at the detective somewhat helplessly.
Cade’s eyes were on my hand. More specifically, on Graham’s hand, which was still tightly enveloping it.
“Caden…”
“Go on, Gwendolyn.” He lifted his gaze to mine, giving me a reassuring nod and a half-smile. “This seems important. We’ll talk soon.”
“I’m sorry,” I called over my shoulder. I’d barely gotten the words out before Graham was moving again, tugging me along behind him heedless of the thick crowds on the sidewalk.
“That was seriously not cool,” I informed his back.
He didn’t bother to respond.
We sped down the wharf, passing a row of busy restaurants. The last time I’d been to his building, we entered through the garage on the back side, which faced the harbor. This time, Graham led me through the front doors, into a street-facing office that encompassed the first floor. The glass window read GRAVEWATCH in a clean, opaque, capitalized font. I barely had time to take in the sleekly decorated reception area before he marched me past a polished onyx desk where a stunning platinum blonde woman was sitting — and, I might add, openly gaping at us — through a thick set of double doors, down a long hallway lined with more closed doors, and finally into a private conference room with windows that looked out at the water.
It was a nice view, spanning the docks, the old sail loft, andThe Friendship, a wooden 171-foot, triple-masted, old-timey schooner that called Salem its home port. Not that I could appreciate said view. All my focus was on the seething man who’d just dragged me into the room without even a hint of gentleness. His mood was tangible, aggression and frustration pouring off him.
The door swung shut behind us with an audible click. Graham was still holding my hand. I belatedly jerked it away and took a few steps toward the bank of windows, not stopping until the stately wood conference table was between us. For whatever reason, I felt safer that way.