Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead (Finlay Donovan, #2)

by Elle Cosimano

“I have to know, was it just like in your book? Did you have wild, hot prison sex before he busted you out?”

“Want some company?” She didn’t wait for an answer before creeping into my room in her fuzzy slippers and flannel pajama robe and setting a hot mug of cocoa in my hands. It was filled to the brim with marshmallows. She climbed into my bed and pushed herself back against the headrest beside me. I took a sip of my drink and coughed, a trail of liquor burning fire down my throat. Vero laughed quietly into her mug. “Figured you could use it. Want to talk about it?”

Vero got close to his face and raised her voice. “Let me jog your memory, Derek. He’s about your age. Blond. Skinny. Smart-ass. And, according to you, he has a talent for cleaning up ugly dick pics.”

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to cover for that little shit. Especially after he offered to sell me your nudes.” Derek’s head snapped up. He dropped his phone on the counter, knocking over his stool as he stood and shoved his way through the EMPLOYEES ONLY door behind him. Vero and I rushed after him as he threw open a door to a break area containing a kitchenette and a ratty sofa. Cam was inside, seated at a plastic table, holding a large Slurpee to the side of his face. “What the hell, man?” Derek shouted. Cam sprung from his chair. A deep gash sliced across his cheek and his left eye was swollen shut. His other went wide when he saw me. He held his Slurpee protectively close as Derek surged toward him and backed him into the corner. “That was easy,” Vero said, and slipped out of the room. “I paid you to get rid of those pics!” Derek knocked the Slurpee from Cam’s hand, spraying the wall with orange ice. “Hey, I was drinking that!” Derek grabbed Cam by the collar, holding him up by the neck until the tips of his toes were the only thing touching the floor. A chime rang somewhere in the shop. Derek swore, releasing Cam with a shove. “You’re lucky I have a customer, asshole. But you and I? We’re not finished.” Derek lumbered out of the break room. Vero slipped in behind him, slammed the door, and threw the lock. Cam stiffened, pressing back into the corner as Derek realized his mistake and started pounding on the door. “He’s not the sharpest tool in the garage,” Vero ...

A thud echoed through the garage as my favorite All-Clad pan bounced off the back of Steven’s head. His phone slipped from his hand as he fell sideways onto the concrete. Vero bent over her knees, breathing hard. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” She nudged him with the toe of her shoe. His shallow breaths were warm on my cheek as I hovered over him, checking for a pulse. “Is he dead?” Vero asked. “He’s fine.” “Want me to hit him again?”

he wasn’t going to drag you anywhere, because there’s no way I’d let him take you.

“I told you to pick something practical!” “You also told me to pick something fast. This baby has over seven hundred horsepower.” “We don’t need seven hundred horsepower! We need room for Carl!” Her eyes drifted closed as she revved the engine. “Shhhh, I think I’m having a religious experience.” “You can pray to the car later.

Vero pulled a set of binoculars from the pocket of her coat and held them out to me. “Where’d you get these?” “Took them from the garage before we left. Thought they’d come in handy.”

“As far as everyone outside this room is concerned, Theresa’s stepfather died of cancer in August. I have a death certificate to prove it.” Vero chuckled darkly. “The doc who signed off on that was missing a big piece of information. Pretty sure it’s in the trunk of our—ow!” She yelped as I kicked her under the table.

“It’s all about who you know,” Theresa said coyly. “Who you know, or who you sleep with?” Vero muttered.

Only, Bree developed a bit of a crush, and Steven … well, you know Steven.” Ted’s eyes lifted apologetically to mine. “Hello! I’m right here.” Theresa waved her hands at me and Ted. “Does anyone care that he was engaged to me at the time?” Vero grabbed the open wine bottle and thrust it in Theresa’s hand. “No. But have a consolation prize. You,” she said to Ted, “keep talking.”

Theresa cradled her wine bottle in one arm and held Aimee in the other. “I’m sorry I told my husband where we were!” Aimee cried. “I’m sorry your husband’s a dick!” Theresa sobbed.

Theresa yelped as I plucked the other bottle from her hand and poured the contents on the floor. “I was drinking that!”

Vero thanked the woman, stealing a glance at the computer screen as she slid her hands from the counter. She pulled me aside, smirking as she revealed the visitor pass she’d palmed from the desk. “Nick’s in room 402,” she whispered, tucking it in my hand. “Go on. I’ve got this.” Vero backed away from me and started fanning herself, whining about how hot she was. She clutched her chest with a dramatic moan, then collapsed in front of the reception desk. There was a flurry of activity, and someone called out for a nurse. I clipped the visitor pass to my shirt, ducking into the elevator as the doors closed.

My mother’s house smelled divine, like maple, citrus, and allspice. Vero made a small noise of pleasure that bordered on indecent.

There comes a time in your life when it’s easier to take the good with the bad, Finlay. Anything else is too much work. No man is perfect. The best we can do is settle for a good one.

“Looking good, Detective!” Vero sprang out of nowhere, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Vero. Do you mind?” He held out a gift bag, balancing precariously on his crutch. “I’m still getting the knack of this thing.” “Presents? For me? You shouldn’t have!” Vero took the bag from him, shamelessly peeking inside. “They’re for Delia and Zach,” he corrected her as she whisked them to the table.

“I should probably call Steven and tell him it’s safe for him to come home.” “Do we have to?” “Vero.” “I’m just sayin’.”

My mother appeared beside me, drying her hands on a dish towel. She sighed, watching him over my shoulder. “He really does have very nice biscuits.”