Steele-Faced (Daggers & Steele Book 6) by Alex P. Berg Read Free Book Online

as I replaced the crystal bottle on its shelf. “And by aficionado, I mean I enjoy distillations that don’t burn like the searing fires of the underworld going down. Or up.”
    “An aficionado, eh?” said Steele. “Tell me, then. Do you prefer malted or grain whiskies?”
    “Please,” I said. “Malted. Rye malt whiskies, specifically. Charred white oak aged, if possible.”
    Shay whistled. “Well. Color me impressed.”
    “You know me,” I said. “I can’t give a straight answer to a question on the first shot. It goes against my nature.”
    A knock sounded against the door.
    I glanced at Steele. “Expecting anyone?”
    “My masseuse.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
    “No,” she said. “Answer it.”
    I crossed to the front and cracked the door. I opened it wide after I saw who it was. “Ah. Steck. You made it.”
    The vice detective had changed into black trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a four-button maroon vest—the same outfit I’d seen on the rest of the ship’s porters. With his left hand he gripped one of the brass bars of a luggage trolley, one loaded with several bags.
    He dipped his head. “Your luggage, sir.”
    His words carried with them a reminder to still my tongue, and he wasn’t wrong. Who knew what prying eyes had already turned our way or what ears lurked in the hallway? It was one thing to acknowledge Steck or an element of Steele’s and my police training in private, but to do so in public, even at the door of my stateroom, could jeopardize our mission. And if I was being honest with myself, while I’d thus far kept my promise to act more sophisticated in public, I hadn’t fully embraced my persona. Specifically, the aspect where Steele and I were a couple, probably because I was concerned with the effects a fake relationship could have on our real one. Had I made the right choice in agreeing to this mission in the first place?
    “Sir?” said Steck.
    I blinked. “Right. Sorry. Please, come in.”
    I stepped to the side, and Steck wheeled the trolley into our living room. He kept up appearances until I closed the door.
    Steck shook his head as he looked around. “Fifteen years on the force. In fifteen years, this is the first time a case like this has come across my desk, and yet somehow the luxury stateroom falls to the two of you while I get stuck with porter duty. Where did I go wrong?”
    “I take it the crew’s quarters aren’t as nice,” said Steele.
    Steck gave my partner a long glance. “We’re sleeping in bunks, six to a room, one substantially smaller than this sitting area here. It smells like coal and engine grease, not rose water and…is that raisins?”
    “It’s the brandy,” I said. “You can have some if you like. It’s not really my cup of tea. But don’t blame us. You had your chance.”
    “To do what?” he said.
    “To take our place.”
    He looked taken aback. “How so? I don’t have a close relationship with anyone who could go undercover posing as my wife. Or girlfriend. Or, you know, whatever.”
    “What about Munn?” I said.
    Steck broke out in laughter. “Munn? Are you kidding me?” He forced out another laugh. “No way we could pull that off. She’s at least ten years my senior. Never mind she has kids and obligations at home that would make it difficult. No one would believe us as a couple. She drives me crazy most of the time. She’s a total ball-buster.”
    He glanced at Steele, who regarded him coolly. “I, uh…didn’t mean anything by that, you understand. I’m all for workplace diversity. And Munn’s deserving of her station. Really good at what she does. It’s that sometimes she gets shrill, and bossy, and…I can tell I’m digging myself a hole here, so I’m going to stop.”
    Steck picked up a pair of bags from the cart and hefted them. “As you can see, we were able to switch out the single bedroom suite we’d initially reserved for a double. Might cause the maids to talk, but they’ve been