Night Sins Read Online Free Page B

swept her dark mane back into a low ponytail and secured it with a small, no-nonsense bow in a dark Black Watch plaid. Neat. Businesslike. Now, strands fell like fine silk thread across her forehead and along her cheeks and jaw. She tried to sweep the stragglers back with an impatient gesture.
    The reception desk at the head of the police wing had been abandoned for the day. She marched past it and on to the security doors that kept the city council safe from criminals and cops, and vice versa. She punched the buzzer and waited, looking into the squad room through the bulletproof glass. The room was bright and clean—white walls, slate-gray industrial-grade carpet that had yet to show any signs of wear. A small platoon of black steel desks squatted in two rows. The desks, for the most part, were not neat. They were piled with files and paperwork, crowded with coffee mugs and framed photos. Only three of them were manned, one by a massive uniformed cop talking on the phone, the other two by men in plainclothes, eating sandwiches while they tackled paperwork.
    The uniform hung up the phone and rose to a towering height, big, drowsy eyes on Megan as he lumbered to the door, unwrapping a stick of Dentyne. He looked thirty and Samoan. His hair was dark and unruly, his body as thick as the trunk of an oak tree, and probably just as strong. His name tag said NOGA . He popped the gum in his mouth and punched the intercom button.
    “Can I help you?”
    “Agent O'Malley, BCA.” Producing her ID, Megan held it up to the glass for his inspection. “I had an appointment with Chief Holt.”
    The cop studied the photo with mild interest; he looked half asleep. “Come on in,” he said with a casual wave. “Door's open.”
    Megan gritted her teeth and willed herself not to blush. She didn't care to be made a fool of, especially not at the end of a day like this one or by a man who was a part of her network. Noga pulled one of the doors open and she marched in, fixing him with a steely look.
    “Shouldn't this area be secured?” she asked sharply.
    Noga appeared unperturbed by her manner. He shrugged his shoulders, a move that looked like an earthquake going through a small mountain range. “Against what?” When she just glared at him, he smiled a crooked half-smile, his thick lips tugging upward on the right side. “You aren't from around here, are you?”
    Megan was getting a crick in her neck from looking up at him. Hell of a trick, trying to do imperious on someone a full foot taller than you. “Are you?”
    “For long enough. Come on back.” He led the way through the rows of desks to a hall with private offices off it. “Natalie's still around. No one sees the chief without seeing Natalie first. She runs the place. We call her the Commandant.” He eyed her with mild curiosity. “So what are you here for? Filling in until they find a replacement for Leo?”
    “I
am
the replacement for Leo.”
    Noga arched a thick brow, schooling a look of shock and dismay into something that more resembled indigestion. “No shit?”
    “No shit.”
    “Huh.”
    “You got a problem working with a woman?” Megan worked to keep the edge out of her voice. But she was tired and her temper was running on a real lean mix. She could feel it simmering just beneath the surface of her control.
    Noga played innocent, eyes wide. “Not me.”
    “Good.”
    He ducked into an office, drumming his knuckles on the open door as he went. “Hey, Natalie! The BCA guy—er—gal—” Noga cast a self-conscious glance at Megan.
    “Agent O'Malley,” she said stiffly.
    “—is here,” he finished.
    “Well, it's about damn time.”
    The churlish line came from an office beyond the one in which they were standing. Stenciled on the frosted glass was MITCHELL HOLT, CHIEF OF POLICE , but it was not Mitchell Holt who came to the door with black eyes blazing.
    The infamous Natalie was no taller than Megan's five feet five, but considerably more substantial of