“You just met him.” He knew it was useless to point out the obvious, but he tried anyway, reaching over his mother’s head to grab the long platter he’d found above the fridge. “You can’t worry about him yet.”
“I’ll worry if I want to. Yer not one to tell me I can’t.” She waved the business end of her wooden spoon at his nose. “Put that there. I’ll use it for the cabbage rolls. Does he like cabbage?”
“I’m guessing he’s never ever had those before,” Kane admitted. “But you never know. He might love cabbage.”
He was saved by his cell phone skittering across the kitchen counter as it sang about a private dick who was a sex machine to all the chicks. Smiling a fake apology at his mother, he grabbed the phone to answer it just as Brigid headed out into the living room to interrogate Miki about green, leafy vegetables and his fondness of them.
Stepping over a food-engrossed Dude, Kane ducked out of the kitchen. “Hey, Lieutenant. What’s up?”
“That rock star of yours got a television?” Casey barked into the phone.
“Yeah,” Kane said, peeking down the hall to watch Miki being quizzed by his mother about cabbages. “Uh, I don’t know if he actually watches anything on it. I think it’s just for video games.”
“Well, if you were so inclined as to turn on the damned thing, you’d see you’re plastered all over the fricking news for punching out some camera guy in front of Miki St. John’s place.” The phone buzzed as Casey’s voice got louder. “Is that what you think it means when I say keep a low profile?”
“Fucking hell.” He leaned against the wall. “Guy stuck his camera into my face. What was I supposed to do? Kiss him?”
“If you’d kissed him, I wouldn’t have gotten a phone call from the damned Chief’s office asking me to explain what you’re up to!”
“Sorry. Next time, I’ll drop to my knees and blow him, sir,” Kane quipped, teasing the man who took him out for his first beer when he graduated from the academy.
“Good thing you remembered that sir part, boy, or I would have had your ass for breakfast,” Casey growled.
“Too late, sir,” he replied. “Mom’s here. She’s first in line for breakfasting off of my ass. You can have lunch if there’s any left over.”
“I’ll order a salad, just in case. I don’t think she’s going to leave me much.” The man sighed heavily into the phone. “Do you know what they wanted me to do with you, Kane?”
“Park me behind a desk?”
“Actually, they wanted you parking your ass someplace on a corner wearing a safety vest, waving a flag so the kiddies know when to cross the street.” There was more than a tincture of menace in the man’s voice, and Kane’s stomach dropped down to his knees.
Kane whistled under his breath. “Fuck that. I don’t look good in orange.”
“I don’t like it when people tell me what to do with my cops, especially when he’s been assaulted on private property by some asshole looking for something juicy to report. Then, right after I pulled the Chief’s butt monkey’s head out of his ass, it sounds like St. John’s lawyers went to work on him.” Casey grumbled. “So, Morgan, consider your ass… and badge… saved.”
Kane’s belly unclenched, and he exhaled hard. “Thanks, sir.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m going to work you until you bleed,” Casey barked. “Did Sanchez call you about the photos?”
“Yeah. Kel’s pissed off about them getting out. He thinks someone on the inside leaked them.”
“He was right. It looks like an admin clerk found a way to make a quick buck. I’ll be talking to that little asshole tomorrow morning.”
“I’d offer to help you do that, sir,” Kane interjected. “But I don’t think there’ll be much more of him left. I told Miki about them. He’s pretty whatevers about the whole thing. Says it’s part of the gig of being in the public eye.”
“Tell St. John to get a gate put up across that street and to have us on speed dial if he even sees a reporter’s nose hair. I want you and Sanchez to put this thing to rest. So, tomorrow morning, you polish that damned inspector badge, show up for work, and do your damned job.”
“Yes, sir.” Kane chuckled. “Thanks.”
“And Morgan,” Casey snapped. “If I see one photo of you outside of a frame on one of your siblings’ desk, I’m going to cut line in front of your mother and wipe that breakfast buffet clean. Do you understand me, Morgan? And tell your rock star to keep his nose clean and his head down. I don’t want the next call I get from the morgue telling me they’ve got him there waiting for you.”
THE woman was a tsunami of chittering stiletto heels and corkscrew red curls.
She also scared the shit out of Miki.