Page 20 of Fatal Pattern

“Detective Blade St. James, world changer! How’s my guy doing? You heading home yet?”

“No.” He sighed. “Still at it.” He propped a shoulder against the wall.

“Oh no. My tireless hero. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just been one of those days.”

“Oh that’s too bad,” Kiara said. “I hate it when you have rough days, but I know you’re investing your time in what matters.”

“Listen, need to ask a favor. Case-related.”

“You know I’m always happy to help. We can go over it at dinner.”

Dinner. Right. The beach picnic. The one she’d set up and he’d forgotten all about. He pressed a palm against his forehead. “Yeah, sure. We can talk then. I might run late. That work?”

“Of course. And hey, even if you can’t make it tonight, I’ll understand. Just shoot me a text.”

How did she always pull that trick, lobbing him an exit like missing plans was a public service instead of him letting her down? “Thanks. I’ll call you soon.”

The line died. Kiara’s photo glowed from the screen. World changer. Hero. She actually believed that. She gave him a free pass and somehow made him feel bigger for taking it.

Before he could shove his phone back in his pocket, the screen lit up again. Acker.

“St. James.”

“Blade, hey. Listen, I was wondering if Dr. Crew could consult on the Florek case. We’re dead in the water, and I need to see some movement.”

“That’s actually a great idea.” He straightened off the wall. “I’ll ask her right now.”

“Appreciate it. Sooner the better.”

The line went dead. Perfect timing. Tori needed something to focus on besides Sullivan’s games and dead-end files.

He pushed back through the door. “Hey, I gotta get going.” The team looked up from their screens and conversations. “Tori, you willing to take a look at my crime scene? Acker’s asking for a consult.”

She uncrossed her legs and pushed off the table, already reaching for her bag. “Yeah. I could use the distraction.”

They headed for the stairs. The gym noise swelled around them. Weights dropping, someone calling out rep counts, the steady thump of gloves on heavy bags.

Outside, the late afternoon sun cut harsh angles across the parking lot. Tori stopped beside his Charger, arms crossed. “So what’d your girlfriend say about helping us access the file?”

Girlfriend? No, Kiara wasn’t his girlfriend. She was the girl he was dating. Different thing entirely.

“I figured asking her to access the case files would be better in person. We’d planned a beach picnic at sunset tonight.”

“Fun,” she said, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She opened the door. “We’d better hurry. You don’t keep a woman like Kiara waiting.” She dropped behind the wheel of her Range Rover and slammed the door.

Blade dug out his phone. He typed quickly:

Case running late. Rain check on the picnic? I’ll make it up to you.

Her response came immediately:

Of course. Be safe. Love you.

The words on the screen—Love you—should have thrilled him. Instead, they sat heavy. Kiara meant safety, the kind of soft place a man like him wasn’t supposed to get. Gardens, books, quiet nights that stretched forward like a promise. A future he wasn’t sure he deserved.

But his gaze tracked Tori checking her cut in the mirror.