Declan stops scribbling, his face tighter than panties on a prom queen. “No, we’ve been at this for hours. You’ve been sitting here watching.”

“Watching your ass, dipshit. You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

Tess focuses fully on Declan, like I’m not even here. Something she’s done a lot lately, and something that really pisses me off. “There has to be something we can bring to Judge Bronson so he can grant a search and seizure. Something we’re missing,” she insists.

Declan throws his pen down. “We have nothing. On paper, this perp looks cleaner than the priest who baptized me.”

“But he’s not. With all these witnesses suddenly making themselves scarce—”

“Or dead,” Declan finishes for her.

Her expression turns grim. Even with her limited experience, she wants to help. That much is obvious. “There has to be something we can do,” she adds, quietly. “There’s almost no point sentencing Montenegro and his second if this man’s set to take over the family.”

I scroll through my phone when she and Deck start talking strategy again. My sister sent me a text, bitchin’ about catching our little brother banging some chick in her bed. I laugh, picturing the look on Wren’s face when she walked in on them. I pocket my phone in time to catch Declan’s glare and Tess’s disapproving head shake. Great, two of them. “What?” I ask.

“This isn’t a laughing matter,” Tess tells me. “We need to bring in the third in command and put the squeeze on him.”

“ ‘The squeeze on him’? Seriously?” I look at Declan, ignoring her flushing face. “Guess what?” I say to him. “Wren caught Finnie screwin’ in her bed—on her new sheets, too.”

Declan’s eyes narrow further. “You’re such an imbecile,” he tells me. “Do you realize what I have on the line here—the opportunity to take down a mafia empire. Do you think I care what Finnie did?”

“You should,” I answer. “He got the girl pretending to be you.” I barely keep it together when he leans back in his chair and covers his face. “I’ve gotta give him credit,” I say, continuing to play dumb. “You and him do look a lot alike.”

Declan mutters a curse and reaches for the law journal closest to him. “Whatever, Curran. I’ve got a case to prepare for.”

Tess offers Declan a sympathetic glance before crossing her arms and fixing her tightening expression my way. I don’t know who’s more on edge, her or him. She’s barely spoken to me these past two weeks, even on the rides back to her place. She hasn’t smiled much and she sure as anything hasn’t laughed—not since I called her on checking me out.

I kept up with the jokes, trying to draw that smile that lightens her face, and occasionally I managed. But something’s off about her, and the more time that passes, the more she seems to fade away.

Maybe school’s getting to her. Her bag is always spilling with law books and notes when I pick her up at U Penn. Maybe it’s this case. Or maybe I’ve pushed her too far. Damn shame I can’t seem to stop trying to get a rise out of her. Just like I can’t stop picturing her naked since she brought it up. It’s times like this I wish for Superman’s X-ray vision. What I wouldn’t give to see her—

“I don’t believe you,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “This is important, and yet you sit here swearing like a prepubescent boy drunk off his father’s stolen scotch.”

“Actually, we used to sneak Pop’s Irish whiskey.” She stills, like it’s taking everything she has not to fling Declan’s stapler at me. “Just speaking the truth,” I tell her.

She sighs. “Why can’t you be more like your brother?”

I grin. “You mean metrosexual with a small dick? Sorry, babe.” I motion to myself. “I gotta use the gifts God gave me.”

Declan looks up then. “Fuck you. I don’t have a small dick.” He coughs into his hand when Tess’s eyes fly open. If he hadn’t been working the hours he had, or putting so much pressure on himself, he never would’ve said anything like that with her around. “Look, Curran. Either help us or keep your trap shut,” he mutters.

I lean back in my chair. “Fine. What about his gumad?”

Tess pauses in the middle of reaching for the law journal closest to her. “What?”

“His gumad. You know, his mistress. He probably stashed evidence at her place.”

Declan levels his stare at me. “You know this for a fact?”

I consider his question. “What I know is she’s a former stripper who isn’t stripping, and who has sweet digs near the Liberty Bell. You don’t buy something like that with no money. Someone bought it for her. I’m guessing the third in command hooked her up.”

Tess cocks her head. “Why him specifically?”

“Because word on the street is the third owns the strip joint he met her in,” Declan answers with a grin.

I place my hands behind my head. “Word on the street also says she likes coke. Watch her. Catch her buying, get your search and seizure.”

“Can we do that?” Tess asks, excitement building in her tone.

Declan answers with a stiff nod. “Get me Santana from Narcotics on the phone.”

Tess scrolls through her list of contacts on her iPad and reaches for Declan’s office phone. “You couldn’t have brought this up earlier, asshole?” he asks.

I don’t hide my grin. “I would have if you’d asked nicely enough.”

“Excuse me, Declan,” Tess interrupts, but not before I catch her smiling my way. “Detective Santana is ready for you.”

He takes the phone, and within an hour, he has someone watching the gumad. Problem is, all the excitement gives him and Tess a second wind. “Deck, come on. It’s Friday night.” I motion to Tess. “Don’t you think your girl here deserves the night off?”

He surprises me by giving it some thought. “Maybe you’re right.” He looks at her then. “How about dinner?”

Da fuck?

Tess beams at him. “That would be wonderful—I mean, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Do you like sushi?”

Her smile brightens. “Oh, yes, I love sushi.”

I rise slowly, telling myself there’s no reason to beat his ass. No reason to call him out for being a two-faced prick. Never mind. There is. This is the same idiot warning me to keep my distance, and to stop “looking at her that way” every time I did.

He lowers his rolled-up sleeves, smirking when he latches on to my WTF expression. “How about it, Curran. Dinner at Itsu’s grab ya?” he asks with a wink.

My shoulders relax when I realize what he’s after. Ah, Itsu’s. Declan may have been hungry. But the excitement of nabbing Montenegro’s third burned a hole straight to his pants. Itsu’s is known for two things: sushi, and a smokin’ hot hostess Deck bangs like cymbals at a high school band concert. “Sure. Yeah. I like Japanese.”

—

Another badge tails Declan while I drive Tess to Itsu’s. She stays quiet and keeps her attention ahead, just like she’s been doing around me for the last two weeks. “What’s up?” I ask her.

“We’re going for sushi,” she answers barely above a whisper.

“You know what I mean. You haven’t said shit to me lately.” I give her a one-shoulder shrug. “You and me, I thought we were pals.”

She adjusts her gloves nervously. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.”

“You weren’t rude.” I steal a glance in the rearview mirror, checking for tails.

“Yes, I was,” she admits, her voice lowering. “You’ve been very sweet—”

“Even when I asked you for that lap dance yesterday?”

She purses her lips. I think she’s blushing, but it’s hard to tell with the blaring commercial lights shining against her face. “Perhaps ‘sweet’ isn’t the best word.” Her expression softens. “Crazy and inappropriate antics aside, you’re very kind.”

“Kind?”

She nods, but keeps her attention ahead. “Yes. You’ve made every attempt to talk to me, and make me smile, although I’ve said very little in return. I…have a lot of stress in my life. But you’re not the cause. And I’m sorry if it seems I’ve been taking it out on you. Believe it or not, I don’t mean to.”