Page 128 of Don't Cross Mo Ellery

“But you know that’s not true,” I say quietly. “It was on hiscomputer. Youknowhe was being dodgy about the construction. He was definitely bribing people. And that’s probably the tip of the iceberg.”

“Ormaybe,” she says, pulling me close again, “it was just a slip-up. Maybe it was more pressure from Leslie. I thought he was amurderer, Mo. But he’s a flawed and decent guy who loves this complicated city. He just needs to be reminded of that.”

Is she right? Am I being too judgy? I think about how he was going to hand the murder crowbar to Leslie.

No, I am absolutely not being too judgy.

Merle’s a coward, sure, but he’s a coward with alotof power. And worse—entitlement. If he wants to be corrupt, to get what he wants, then that’s what he’ll do. Tasha wants to believe in a new Chicago, but she’s not willing to admit that the old bribey Chicago is still in operation, right under her nose. She’s too relieved that her boss isn’t a murderer.

“No way. I’m not buying it,” I say. “He may not be a murderer, but he’s definitely corrupt. Which is a bad look for a politician.”

“This is a huge opportunity for me, Mo. With Leslie gone, I could be chief of staff.”

“Youwantto be Merle’s chief of staff?”

“I can help people,” she adds. “And I can keep an eye on Merle.”

I bite my lip.

“What?” she demands. “Come on, Mo. I supported you during your hijinks.”

“Hijinks?I solved a double murder!”

“This is mycareer. I’ve only ever wanted to be a good guy in politics.”

“Well, Tasha,” I say, “you’ll make a hell of a splash as Merle’s Number One Henchperson.”

Her beautiful, nerdy, lovable face goes on lockdown.

“Why do you care so much about my job anyway,” she says stonily. “You didn’t even know what an alderman was a month ago.”

Honestly, fair point. WhyamI so upset about Merle’s dirty dealings? And do I really care that much about aldermanic office politics??

I pause for a second to actually feel my feelings. “You workso much,” I say, finally. “You can only ever squeeze me in between meetings and projects, and only if I visit you here.” I wave my hand at the conference table that so recently hosted us.

“That’s not fair,” she says. “We went to Dickie’s that one time, and I met you at that cool coffee shop in the South Loop where you accused me of murder.”

I roll my eyes. “God, let it go already. It’s not always just about you, if you’re keeping track, I accusedeverybody of murder.”

We grin at each other.

“I’ll make more time for you, I promise,” Tasha says. “Here, I’ll prove it to you. Let’s have a date, a real date.” She pulls out her phone and scrolls through her calendar, and I cuddle up next to her.

“Um, are you free October third?”

Oh. Nuts. She’s serious, isn’t she.

“That’s like a month from now,” I say softly.

“I’m sorry, Mo, it’s an election year, things are about to get crazy and I want to make sure we win—”

I lean in and give her one last long kiss.

“I should go,” I say. And then I walk away without looking back.

Because if I look back, I’ll see whatIwant.

And I know I’m not getting it.