Gently, he guided her to the floor. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d had sex in the kitchen. In a push-up position, he leaned toward her and kissed her chin, planting a trail of them down the middle of her toned stomach. Sliding backward, he unzipped her jeans, his tongue tasting the vanilla lotion she’d massaged into her skin.

“Oh, Ryan…” Her voice was more soprano than usual. She arched her back, letting him slide her pants off over her hips and—

A rap at the door.

Panicked, Hudson looked up. Miserelli tore away from him and army-rolled into the living room. Pip barked. He stood, knocking his head on the countertop. He combed his hand through his hair. Fixing his glasses, he squinted to see who was outside. All he could see was the sleeve of a dark jacket.

Hudson opened the door. Nikolai Kole stood on his porch, casually, as though this were a friendly routine visit and not the first time he’d come to Hudson’s house.

“Good morning, sir?” Hudson stepped aside to let Kole in, but the sergeant remained put.

“Hey, Harry Potter, your phone dead?”

“Uh, no, it’s…” He trailed off, craning his neck to look behind him, as though he could see his phone that he’d left in the living room all the way from here. The outside air stung his skin.

Pip barked. He heard Miserelli try to shush her and had no doubt that Kole had heard it, too.

“Some baby cops picked up a guy for a disorderly. Fighting with his family, you know the Christmas tradition. Scored half an ounce off him. He’s asking for a trade.”

“A trade?”

“Information in exchange for a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

Hudson furrowed his brows. His broken glasses slid down his nose. “What kind of information?” It wasn’t a foreign concept. The underworld and the police department had their own economy wherein information was currency. The more serious the charges, the higher the price.

“He says he knows who shot Brix Garrison.”

Hudson’s heart stopped. Everything—frost blooming on windshields, plastic bags rolling across snowy streets, the lake effect whistling through brick houses and lean-to porches—it all stopped. When it started again a second later, he compared it to a video buffering. It felt like he was watching it, not living it: Kole standing on his doorstep, telling him it was over. They would finally arrest the piece of shit who put Garrison in the ground. Tears welled in his eyes.

A cloud materialized in front of Kole’s mouth as he exhaled. “Kasper from Wesson PD’s lead on this case. I called him down to do the interview. Figured you might want to watch in the—”

“I would. Yes. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Kole looked him up and down. He raised his brow as though doubting ten minutes was enough time for him to transform from his current state of undress. “Interview Room #1.” He turned to leave and paused on the bottom step. “Oh, and Hudson.”