4
The next morning, Richie picked up his phone to call his friend Shay, aka Henry Ian Tate III, aka HIT-man, with information about Neda Fourman: age, address, and date of death. He’d gotten the data as he leaned over Rebecca in Homicide last night. Thinking about being that close to her, alone, the lights dim … it had been all he could do not to pick up where they’d left off some months ago in his living room, the first and only time he’d ever seriously kissed her. He might have given her a peck on the cheek in greeting or whatever from time to time, but that day, in his living room, now that was a kiss.
Hell. Who knew he’d have such thoughts while in a Homicide bureau? His friends would snicker.
He had realized back then that he was starting to fall for her and broke it off. She was t
