“Finish this case with me,” Gretchen proposed. “And then you can take me to the gun range and use me as practice if you want.” “Discharging my weapon involves a lot of paperwork. And quite frankly—” She paused, dragging her eyes up and down Gretchen. “You’re not worth it.” “Touché.” The more verbal slaps Marconi dished out, the more they’d be back on even ground. Gretchen could live with the sting of them. “I’m sure you’ll think of creative ways to make me suffer.” A smirk tugged at Marconi’s lips, the first real flicker of emotion. “I’m holding you to that.”
