"Ryker, I will remind you of your right to legal representation," I said. "I will also remind you that you are not under arrest and may leave at any time."

He nodded, his expression dark.

"Why have we just discovered a boot knife at your workshop?"

We were sitting in an interview room at the police station. Dixon had video-called Cassia, and they were currently comparing the blade to the wounds that had been inflicted on both victims. If it matched the length and design of the murder weapon -- and I already knew it was close -- it would be sent away to be analysed for blood, DNA, fibres...anything that could link Ryker to the crimes.

He shrugged. "You know they also call it a gambler's dagger? I got it after the fight outside Victory Casino. But in the end, I decided not to cause any more trouble with the law. I've never carried it on me."

Carrying fixed-blade knives was illegal.

"Where were you on Monday 26th December between eight and ten at night?" I asked.

He sighed. "We've already been through this. Victory Casino."

"The man who owns it says you weren't there. He doesn't know you."

"That's exactly what I told you he'd say. Look, if Felix was open with the police, you'd be storming the place all the time. Fights break out, knives are pulled, drugs are dealt, people are sexually harassed. But if it happens on the premises, it doesn't get reported. That's the rule. He probably thought admitting I was there would get him into trouble for something."

"You're lying," Alex said. "You weren't there. We know Zoe Ackerman jilted you...and your criminal record testifies to your violent streak."

"This again." Ryker sighed. "I was acting in self-defence."

"That's not the way the court saw it. You were sentenced for ABH."

"The guy came at me with a knife. I didn't just want him to go down -- I wanted him to stay down. For my safety."

"Then he shot you," I murmured.

Alex glanced at me. I looked away and sipped the water I'd brought in. Ryker's past was too closely linked to my own, and it made me uncomfortable.

Ryker flexed his metal hand. "Yeah. Another punishment on top of everything else."

"Then when Harley Ackerman was born, it was the final straw," Alex said.

Ryker looked up. "What?"

"Jealous and angry, you took the chance to kill Zoe Ackerman when you saw her approaching your shop. Then Bryony found the knife. Maybe she threatened to turn you in. You silenced her."

There was something I didn't like about the knife. We'd asked Ryker for permission to search his premises hours ago. He'd been given plenty of time to hide the blade while we'd been waiting for the warrant, but he hadn't worried about it. He possibly hadn't even thought about it.

It hadn't been significant to him.

He was glaring at Alex now, but his mouth was slack. "Why do you think that? I was never jealous of Zoe and Maxx -- or their damn baby! I was only..."

"Betrayed," Alex finished. "So, let's go back to Bryony. What was your relationship with her outside of work?"

"There wasn't one." Ryker's gaze drifted to me, and he added without malice, "Inspector, you're quiet."

Alex looked at me again.

I was about to take back control of my interview when someone knocked on the door. It opened, and Dixon stuck his head in. "Can I have a word?"

"This interview is suspended," I said to Ryker and the cameras.

Alex and I joined Dixon in the corridor. His expression was grim. "I don't have the news you were hoping for."

"The knife isn't a match, sir?" I asked.

"No. And the PRBs have just returned from Ryker's flat empty-handed." Dixon spread his own. "You don't have the evidence to charge him. You'll have to let him go."

***

Ryker left the station. We left not long after him. I wished we were going straight home, but we still had a problem on our hands. Where had Ryker been on Monday night?

Victory Casino was a ten-minute walk from his workshop, but a longer jaunt from the station. We rode a tram to a quieter, dingier neighbourhood, then covered the last bit on foot. Alex brooded the whole way, his eyes dark.

The casino was marked by a neon green sign on the ground floor of a grubby skyscraper, considerably meek compared to the bigger lights around it. An automatic door rattled open slowly as we approached.

We entered a dark room with a low ceiling and stood still on a rotting carpet. Gambling machines glowed in the dark, and men bustled around card tables. They smoked, dealt, or rolled the dice. A few security guards in t-shirts watched over the activity while waiters ferried drinks and strippers danced. Slot machines span and bleeped. Stools screeched. Tinny music seemed to seep from the walls.

I side-stepped to avoid a woman who was wearing so much floral perfume that it foreshadowed her movements, and I bumped into another man who was coming in behind us. Before I knew it, he'd spun me around and was putting his hands on my breasts. "Well, aren't you a sweetheart?"

His breath stank of beer, and my muscles locked in place. Sweat trickled down my neck.

Alex shoved the man back. I reckoned that if my assailant had been smaller, he would have hit the wall and bounced off it like a pendulum. Alex practically snarled. "We're the police."

I recovered my wits and peered around him. "We don't want any trouble, but if you're wise, you'll point us to the man in charge. Felix, right?"

My assailant was turning purple, his gaze fixed on Alex. It wasn't until I'd flashed my warrant card that I finally got his attention.

"Police," I repeated. "Tell us where the bloody hell Felix is, or I'll charge you for sexually assaulting an officer."

The man wisely got his ass into gear.

Felix was in an office at the back of the hall, which was basically a cubbyhole filled with takeaway rubbish. As we entered, he lifted his feet off the desk and sat up, startled. He looked just as beady-eyed as I remembered from our video call. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"We're done playing games." I put my tabphone on the desk, a photo of Ryker on screen. "This man is a regular. Do you know him?"

The idiot who'd felt me up came closer. "That's Ryker James! What's 'e done?"

"Get out, Bill!" Felix glared at him, then us. "This is a respectable establishment. I don't want the police poking around."

"Tough shit," I said. "We're here. Tell us whether Ryker was here on Monday night between eight and ten, and we'll walk out again."

Felix threw his hands up. "Yes, he was here. He came as soon as he finished work, and he didn't leave until...probably after midnight. I have CCTV to prove it. Does that make us done here?"

"Yes." I picked up my tabphone. "Although I expect you to send that footage to the Socrico Police Xplora account immediately. Goodbye."

We showed ourselves back out of the office and crossed the casino floor to the exit. Bill was sitting at a nearby card table now, and he leered at me as we passed. Alex glared daggers at him.

"My hero," I joked when we were outside. "You can take off your shining armour now. We're done for the day."

He surveyed me, his eyes still dark. Then he held out his hand. "Your earpiece."

"Oh, yes." I passed it to him. "Thanks. You know Ryker's not a suspect anymore?"

"You say that like my pride is going to take a beating."

"Isn't it?"

A flicker of a smile passed over his face. "I'll ignore that. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

We parted ways. I stopped at Ace's on my way home and did some proper shopping, remembering to read the instructions on the glass containers. When I managed to get everything I wanted, I felt proud.

Once I was home, I put it all away and fed Mitzy. Then I showered, swapped my contact lenses for glasses, and padded through to the living room. I'd left my leather jacket in there, and my tabphone was buzzing. I fished it out and saw a message from Clyde. Are you really dating your sergeant?

I blushed and decided to ignore it. Considering that such a thing would be illegal, it was quite a rude accusation. And that, I decided, was the reason why it made my heart flutter.

Another message arrived before I'd locked my tabphone. This one was from Nina. Free to talk?

My response was to call her.

She popped up on my screen with a big smile, and seeing it made me smile too. She'd released her dark hair from its plait so that it tumbled around her shoulders in bouncy waves, and she was sitting in what must have been her new bedroom. "Hi! First of all, can we talk about how fit your sergeant is? Like, wow! He's seriously hot. If I wasn't all the way over here with Erin..."

My heart fluttered again, but I laughed. "I wanted to ask you about your sergeant, actually."

"He's very serious, but he's good at what he does. I think he's been a sergeant longer than I've been in the police!"

"That's good. I miss you, though."

"I miss you, too." Nina's smile grew. "But surely you can't complain about the artwork you get to admire every day now I've gone."

"Hmm." I liked it much more than I should have done. "I'm glad you're getting on okay. Remember how stilted our partnership was at first?"

"I was a bit awkward, wasn't I?"

"It's strange how much energy was lurking beneath that shy exterior," I teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Tell me about your investigation."

Fuck forgetting everything.

I told her all that I could, although I was careful to leave out the actual names of my suspects. She listened intently, her eyes bright and her lips sealed. It took me a good twenty minutes.

When I'd finally finished talking, she said, "Interesting. It sounds like you have all the bases covered. You've just got to keep on digging. You'll get deep enough in the -- "

The buzz of the doorbell interrupted her.

"Alex Sullivan is here," it announced. "May he come in?"

My mouth turned dry. "Alex? What's he doing here?"

I used my tabphone to access the camera in my door. Sure enough, Alex was standing there, the bruise on his jaw almost as dark as his trench coat. He was holding my earpiece.

When I returned to my calls, Nina had ended our conversation. I could imagine her grin as she'd disconnected.

"Come in," I said through the intercom. Then I threw my tabphone down and went into the hallway to see my sergeant.

He was still outside my open door, waiting for me. He smiled when I emerged. "I thought I might as well give you this back now. It's working again."

"Thank you." I took the earpiece. "That was quick! I didn't realise you were such a tech whiz until today."

"And here I am with you as my governor." His smile widened.

I smiled back, my knees turning weak. I suddenly wished there was some reason for me to invite him in -- that it was raining, or it was cold out there. But he was standing in a warm corridor.

Our smiles faded. An awkward silence fell over us.

I supposed I could offer him a cup of tea, but it seemed a bit late in the day. So before I knew what I was doing, I said, "Why don't you come in and stay for dinner?"

He frowned, and I braced myself for a refusal. I shouldn't have asked. Dinner was intimate and inappropriate.

But then his gaze caught mine, and something in his eyes sent a shiver across my skin.

"I'd like that," he said.

My heart thumped. "Great. It will be nice to have company. Come in and shut the door behind you." It would lock automatically. "And chuck your coat in the living room."

I led the way to the kitchen. Mitzy had taken herself off, and everything was tidied away. But I became acutely conscious of the fact that I didn't have a table.

I really should have thought of that before I invited him in.

He entered behind me, sweeping his gaze across the room. He registered the punch bag, but that wasn't what he commented on. "I didn't realise you wore glasses."

"My eyes are yet another thing that don't cooperate with me." I smiled wryly. "Is carbonara okay for dinner?"

"Chocoholic and pastaholic?"

"I do eat other things, you know! I can cook something else...?"

"No, pasta's good." He glanced around. "Have all your chocolate bars gone now?"

"They're just hidden away. I'm not that bad!" I started taking the ingredients out of my cupboards.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Work out how I'm supposed to use my coffee machine," I said on a whim, pointing at the alien device that was shoved into the corner. "That will be a challenge for you."

He looked bemused, but he squeezed past me and went to it. "I remember you mentioning this."

"It hates me."

Alex switched the coffee machine on and was immediately treated to a demonstration of what I meant.

"Good morning," it said. "You have missed a reminder to 'Make coffee' and 'Buy Christmas present'. What would you like me to do today?"

"Adjust your clock, for starters," Alex said.

"Let me check: I should set a reminder to 'Adjust clock'. When would you like this reminder to be set?"

"Never."

"Oh," said the coffee machine.

By the time Alex had made it bend to his will, I was dishing up the carbonara.

"It's not just you." He put two mugs of coffee on the counter. "It's been programmed terribly. I'm surprised you bought it, given your track record."

"It was a Christmas present from my father. I think I'll stick to visiting Coffee Glitch each morning."

"You have missed a reminder to 'Buy Christmas present'," the coffee machine chirped.

Alex switched it off. "I don't blame you. Do you want me to set the table?"

I realised that he thought my poky flat must contain a dining room. "I guess you can set the coffee table. That's the only table I have. Sorry."

"It's fine."

He took some cutlery and our mugs into the living room while I finished dishing up. When I carried our plates through and joined him, he was sitting on the furthest sofa. Mitzy had put in a sudden appearance and was trying to climb into his lap. He fended her off with an expression that suggested he was trying to keep a hellhound at bay.

I crossed the room, swapping dinner for the sadistic hairball. "Not a fan of cats?"

"She surprised me," he said lamely.

His expression relaxed once I'd shut Mitzy outside, and I settled on the other sofa with a grin. "Your fear of cats isn't why you left Rosek, is it?"

"I'm not afraid. I'm just not keen on them."

"Whatever you say."

"I left Rosek because there was a case that hit close to home. Once it was over, I decided it was time to get away." He paused to shovel some pasta into his mouth. "This is really good."

I hoped that wasn't just a topic-changer. "Thanks. Do you cook?"

"Sometimes. When I'm not working late on my investigations."

I smiled. "A fellow workaholic. No sports?"

"I go for a walk sometimes -- but not in the pitch black and rain." His eyes narrowed. "You never told me why you were walking around the city before dawn the other day."

"I'd just come off a short operation. Sebastian asked me to arrest someone for him." I touched my own bruise, so much smaller and paler than Alex's; hardly there at all. "Sebastian's charged him now for raping and shooting a young girl."

I shrugged the topic of conversation off again, but I saw in Alex's face that he understood. Even as a seasoned homicide detective, some days were hard. Death would never stop meaning something.

We both thought on that for a moment. Then Alex said, "You didn't talk much last night. Tell me about the good investigations you worked with Nina."

I pressed my lips together, trying to recall even one that wouldn't be a repeat of anything he'd done before. "I'm not sure where to start...but if Nina was here, she'd pick a favourite out of all the others easily. She met her girlfriend while we were investigating a murder."

"Really?"

"Erin's a private investigator, and she'd been hired by the victim a week before to track down her missing husband. Only, it eventually turned out that her client -- our victim -- had actually killed him a few months before and was just taking great pains to look innocent."

"So who killed her?"

"The son, after he found his father's body in the loft of their duplex."

I regaled him with the proper details of the investigation, skipping over how many times I'd had to nag Nina because she'd been so distracted by beautiful Erin. Alex chipped in here and there, interested in all the evidence we'd gathered.

We talked long after we'd finished eating, our conversation drifting to the British police in general. Eventually, Alex's tabphone buzzed. He glanced at it, and his eyebrows shot upwards. "I didn't realise it was so late."

I looked, too. It was almost nine. "Oh, God. I'm sorry I've kept you for so long."

"No, no, it's fine."

I scrambled off the sofa, and we took our washing-up into the kitchen. I dumped my stuff in the dishwasher and turned to take Alex's plate from him, but he was already leaning over the appliance to do it himself. Our hands bumped. I flinched back, afraid of what I would feel.

"Sorry." He straightened up and added his mug to the higher rack, which put his face closer again. Then he caught my gaze and stilled like a deer.

I drank in the detail of him, my gaze flitting across stubble and tanned skin, cuts and bruises, until it rooted to his lips. My heart bashed out a furious tattoo in my ears.

His breathing hitched. He could feel the same thing.

And then he turned away. "I should go now."

Disappointment and relief warred in me. "Yes. Good idea."

We hastened into the hallway. He stopped to retrieve his coat from the living room, and as he put it on, he looked at me again. It was just a glance, but his eyes still had a devastating effect.

I closed mine. We were inspector and sergeant, superior and subordinate. Just kissing him would be illegal.

Don't ever kiss him.