PsyCop 4: Secrets Read Online Free PDF

experience. I slid toward the middle of the mattress and pressed myself against Jacob’s side. “Want me to suck you off?” I asked. I figured that I always slept like a baby after a good blow job.
    Jacob rolled to face me and pulled me against his chest. He kissed the side of my head through my hair, and said, “I’ll take a rain check.” Which was good, since I was already halfway to dreamland.
    Q
    I woke up puzzled, and a tin ceiling embossed with stylized flowers came into focus.
    Weird. I sat up and looked at Jacob’s side of the bed. It was empty. Sunlight filtered in through a small, high window above the headboard. The headboard was made of actual wood, wood that hadn’t been ground up and molded into a big, pressboard shape.
    Jacob was gone and I was alone with a whole day stretching out in front of me. We’d both put in for a few days off to get the cannery in order. But we both try not to hang too much hope on our time off, since PsyCops, unlike regular detectives, could be called back to the precinct at any time. The fact that it could have been either of us on the receiving end of that phone call didn’t make it any easier for the one who was stuck at home, staring at mountains of cardboard boxes.
    Maybe they needed me at the Fifth—some matter that wasn’t life or death, but something I could help out with, all the same. Something I could do.
    I found my cell phone in the wad of stuff on the floor and called work.
    A pleasant female voice answered. “Fifth Precinct. Sergeant Warwick’s office.”
    “Hi Betty, it’s Vic.”
    “Detective Bayne! Are you all moved in to your new house?” Betty was practically bubbling over with enthusiasm, so I figured I should do my best not to sound as pessimistic as I felt. “Yeah, everything made it in one piece. Even got my computer hooked up.”
    I spent two hours searching for myself on it, and apparently I don’t exist. I didn’t say it. It wasn’t as if Betty could’ve known about it. She was just the secretary.
    “I’ve got a card for you to fill out with your change of address,” she said. “Do you want me to take down all the information now so that you just have to sign it when you come in Thursday?”
    “Uh, no. I’ll, uh…fill it out myself. So Warwick’s not gonna call me in today?”
    “Not unless there’s an emergency, no. You enjoy your time off. And let us all know what we should bring to your housewarming party.”
    I forgot how to breathe. “My what?”
    “It’s your first home, isn’t it? You’ve got to let us all see. We’re all so excited for you.” Who the heck was this “all” she kept referring to? Betty was the only one at the station who was even civil to me, other than Sergeant Warwick and my partner, Bob Zigler. And neither Warwick nor Zig had ever expressed a desire to spend any time with me outside of work.
    “It’s, um…I dunno. I have all this unpacking to do.”
    “If you make a list of things you need, I’ll keep track of it for you so that we all know what to get you for housewarming gifts. You wouldn’t want to end up with two blenders or two crock pots.”
    “No,” I said dully. “No sense in having two of everything.”
    “Allrighty then, Detective. Don’t work too hard. And remember to stretch before you lift anything heavy.”
    “Yeah. Uh, thanks. Bye.”
    I disconnected and stared down at the phone. Was Betty serious about this housewarming thing? It sounded like it. I wasn’t about to invite my co-workers to my house. I was living with a man. I ran my fingers through my hair and stared at the phone some more. I could always set up the futon in the smaller bedroom and pretend it was mine. But come on—
    who’d buy that I’d suddenly moved in with a “roommate” at my age? Besides, we had that bedroom earmarked as an office, and we’d left the futon for the Goodwill truck.
    I stepped out of the real bedroom and stared over the railing at the disaster below. The floor was covered