Mickey, concentrating on a new stack of papers, didn’t hear the door open, wasn’t aware of movement until he smelled Luci’s perfume tangling in the air around him. It was not unlike her: contrary, mysterious, with an underlying and almost irresistible charm. Mickey hunched his shoulders as she came around and leaned on the back of his chair, tossing a folded newspaper down in front of him.
“If I didn’t know you to be the soul of upright, though excitable honesty, Detective Ross,” she said, her voice soft and sultry, her lips so close to his ear that he felt her warm breath puff against the side of his face, “I’d accuse you of dissembling with the press.”
“Huh?” Concentration scattered, but the will to not react to her remained firm. Without looking at her, Mickey shoved the newspaper asi
