Private Dicks Read Online Free PDF

kept his partner from sleeping once he was in bed
last night. “Hurry up,” he growled, stomping toward the main door to hide his
red face.
     
    “You look like shit,” Gomez greeted Rhodes as he led the way
toward her booth. She was tucked into one corner and Rhodes swung into the
other side.
    “Thanks,” he told her. “Looking pretty rough yourself. You
get any sleep last night?”
    Wash slid in next to Rhodes. “This whole coffee-time-with-a-cop
thing still feels weird to me.” Wash gave a pretend shudder and then grinned.
“How’s it hanging, Melie?”
    “Shitty,” she answered. “And your partner is a cop, you
moron.”
    “Ex-cop,” Rhodes corrected.
    Gomez scowled. “That was bullshit. That shooting was totally
justified.”
    “Not according to the official report,” Rhodes said.
“Apparently, I had a ‘history of emotional instability that affected my
judgment on multiple occasions’.”
    “Bullshit,” Gomez growled again. “You just pissed off the
wrong people. You sucked at kissing ass—you still do.”
    “Bullshit or not, the result’s the same.” As the waitress
poured his coffee, Rhodes kept his eyes on the flow and swirl of the dark
liquid. He nodded his thanks as she pulled the pot away to fill Wash’s cup.
    “Besides,” Wash chimed in, “I got a kickass partner out of
that very bullshit. The PD’s stupidity was my gain.” Toasting Rhodes with his
cup, he took a sip.
    Amelia glared at him. “Fuck, Washington, don’t you ever
think about anyone except yourself?”
    “Fuck, Gomez,” Wash mimicked. “Are you always such a bitch?”
    Rhodes tuned them out, leaning back against the booth,
concentrating on the bitter taste of each swallow of coffee. Despite the
caffeine, his eyelids drooped.
    “Rhodes!” Gomez barked.
    He raised a sleepy eyebrow at her.
    “How is it that you were about to take Cal’s head off last
night after one bitchy comment but you spend every day with this guy and
haven’t killed him yet?” she demanded.
    At the mention of Callum, Rhodes frowned. “Your partner’s an
asshole.”
    Gomez’s eyebrows shot up. “And yours isn’t?”
    “Sure,” Rhodes admitted absently, staring at his coffee.
“But Wash is my asshole.”
    As Wash choked and sputtered with laughter, Rhodes felt his
face warm and shook his head. “You know what I mean,” he muttered, glancing at
Gomez, who looked as if she didn’t know whether to be amused or pissed.
    “Enough about our respective assholes,” Rhodes grumbled.
“Why’d you drag us down here, Gomez?”
    With a final glare at Wash, who smirked back, Amelia
explained, “It’s about my kidnapping case.”
    “Thought that was a homicide case now,” Rhodes commented
mildly.
    She shrugged. It was her turn to stare at her coffee. “Yeah,
that’s the problem. They’re pulling me off. Everyone figures she was secretly
seeing the guy and tried to break it off, so he went nuts—shot her, then killed
himself.”
    “Sounds reasonable,” Wash said. “You don’t think that’s how
it went down?”
    Frowning at her coffee, she explained, “It just doesn’t feel right, you know?” Gomez looked up at the two men. “This girl, Mia, she kept a
diary. Fifteen years old, had a crush on a boy at school but was too shy to
even say a word to the kid. Her science fair project was second at State—she
still had it set up in her room. She played basketball and was the coach’s
assistant at the Thirty-Sixth Street youth center. This wasn’t a wild girl.”
    “The smart ones get caught up with the wrong guys too,” Wash
reminded her but Gomez shook her head.
    “How’d she even meet this guy? He—this Troy Sanderson—was a
forty-six-year-old investment banker from Ohio, for fuck’s sake! Mia lived in a
two-bedroom apartment with her grandmother and two sisters thirteen miles away
from the loft where this guy was staying. How’d he find her?”
    “You’re thinking he was watching her? Waited for his
opportunity then