Double Dog Dare

by E J Cochrane

  “I can see that,” Dottie drawled, her eyes scanning Maddie from head to toe.

  “Not with my outfit.”

  “Let’s not delude ourselves, sweet pea.” Dottie gestured at her fur-accented jeans with one muddy pawprint on the left thigh. “Unless you’re auditioning for a modern interpretation of Oliver Twist, I’d say there’s room for improvement.”

  She rolled her eyes but otherwise ignored her assessment. “There’s a woman I need to talk to—”

  “A special woman?” Dottie perked up immediately, and she wished she’d phrased her statement differently. “Is this part of your plan to win back the reluctant love doctor? Are you going to woo her with jealousy?”

  “She’s not reluctant.”

  “So there’s been progress? Have you had a sleepover yet?”

  She groaned at her mistake. “Why do I tell you things?”

  “For the record, you’ve told me nothing, but you—like so many others—are helpless to resist my charms.”

  “I’m sure that’s it. I need to talk to a friend of a friend, and I think your…charms will be advantageous.”

  “Why are we talking to this woman?” Dottie asked. “And does the stunning Dr. Feelgood know you’re chatting up another lady?”

  “I haven’t mentioned it to Nadia, but it doesn’t matter because this isn’t a romantic mission.” Never mind that Nadia wouldn’t be pleased to learn about Maddie’s return to amateur detective work.

  “If we aren’t addressing your underserved libido, what are we trying to accomplish, pet?”

  “We’re just sort of casually looking into a murder.”

  “Who died now?” Dottie swayed in the doorway, but Maddie still couldn’t see what her friend might be hiding.

  “No one you know. No one I know for that matter.”

  “I don’t know if I should be concerned for your well-being, troubled by your willingness to endanger yourself for someone you have no connection to, terrified by your frequent encounters with the criminal element or pleased at your recognition of my investigative prowess.”

  “Probably all of the above,” she admitted. She was under no delusion that any of this was a good idea, but having promised Leigh, she felt she had to try to find proof of her innocence (or at least reasonable doubt of her guilt), and that started with Kat Russell.

  “What’s the mission?” Dottie asked, and Maddie was only momentarily taken aback by her willingness to join the insanity.

  “Just meet me at this bar at seven.” She handed Dottie a matchbook she’d grabbed from Pi the night before. “Drinks are on me.”

  “I like this assignment already.”

  “I thought you might.” She made one more attempt to see inside the house before giving up. Reluctantly, she passed off Granny’s cookies and headed to her next appointment. Whatever Dottie was up to, Maddie knew she would find out eventually.

  Chapter Twelve

  Nothing about Maddie’s encounter with Officer Murphy went as she had anticipated. Despite her years of experience dealing with intensely devoted and often unpredictably quirky pet parents, she’d never experienced (nor expected) a client meeting quite like the one she enjoyed that evening. From the minute she arrived at Murphy’s building and (in a somewhat Dottie-esque moment) checked her reflection in the glass of the entryway, lamenting the plain but functional braid that kept her habitually wayward hair mostly in order, nothing happened as she thought it would (or should). Not that she regretted the particular turn of events the evening had taken, at least not entirely. But she found it at least as confusing as it was gratifying. The whole incident left her feeling discomposed (in good and bad ways), a feeling that started as soon as her new client opened her door.

  “You’re not in your uniform.” She cringed as soon as the entirely unnecessary statement left her mouth, but her past encounters with Murphy had left her wildly unprepared for the vision before her.

  Murphy’s worn, soft-looking jeans couldn’t have fit her better if they’d been painted on her trim, fit legs. Her faded red V-neck T-shirt showed off an inviting glimpse of cleavage that Maddie immediately averted her eyes from. Unfortunately for Maddie, Murphy’s lean, toned arms—one sporting an impressive (and incredibly sexy) half-sleeve of tattoos—looked just as good, and Maddie was running out of safe places to rest her eyes. Worse still, Murphy smelled amazing, like some strange blend of fresh, clean laundry and jasmine that shouldn’t have worked but did, and making her just that much more irresistible, a tiny black kitten perched on her shoulder, playing with her ponytail and purring loudly. Maddie took in the full, glorious picture, thinking that Murphy barely resembled the imposing cop she remembered from their first meeting. And though it shouldn’t have been possible, she was even hotter than before.

  “I’m not on duty.” Murphy laughed good-naturedly and invited Maddie into her home.

  Trying to recover, she switched gears. “Is this Stanley or Herbie?”

  “Stanley went into hiding the second you hit the buzzer. But Herbie is a big, tough street kitten. He’s not afraid of anything. Are you little guy?” Murphy lifted the kitten from her shoulder then rubbed her nose on his as he batted her cheeks with his tiny paws.

  Kitten and cop kept at it for several minutes. Meanwhile, Maddie wondered if anyone had ever died of an overdose of cuteness. A long, dreamy sigh escaped from her as she took in the adorable scene, inspiring a knowing, raised-eyebrow glance from Murphy. She immediately felt herself blush from head to toe.

  “Can we start over?” She smiled (endearingly, she hoped), and Murphy nodded her assent. Maddie felt certain that her client was trying not to laugh at her. Not that she didn’t have plenty of reason to, but at least she was considerate enough not to embarrass Maddie further.

  “Hello, Officer Murphy.” She stuck out her hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Miss Smithwick.” Murphy grinned and showed no interest in ending the handshake until Herbie leapt from her grasp and skittered out of the room.

  “Call me Maddie, please.” She hoped Officer Murphy would respond in kind with something she could call her—something other than Officer Murphy or Hot Cop. Instead Murphy offered to take her jacket and disappeared down the hall just as Herbie dashed back in the room and busied himself with chasing a stuffed mouse across the pristine floor.

  Trying to relax, Maddie took a deep breath, and that’s when she noticed another divine aroma, this one coming from the direction of what she guessed was the kitchen. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

  “Are you hungry?” Murphy breezed back into the room, and Maddie couldn’t help noticing the pink polish on Murphy’s toenails—so not what she expected of a cop.

  “I’m sorry?” Thanks to the toenail distraction, she missed the question.

  “Dinner.” Murphy inclined her head toward the heavenly scented kitchen. “I’m starving, so I made way too much food. Would you like some?”

  “You don’t have to feed me, Officer Murphy.” There had to be something better to call this woman. Maddie really wished she knew Murphy’s first name. “But if you want to eat before your dinner gets cold, I don’t mind waiting.” She smiled as her stomach growled again.

  “I hate eating alone. Sit.” Murphy pointed to a small table just outside a tiny but obviously functional kitchen, and Maddie, reminded of the commanding cop she’d first met, obeyed.

  As Murphy moved back and forth between the kitchen and dining nook, Maddie tried hard not to stare, but Murphy, whose compact body moved with graceful economy, didn’t make herself easy to ignore. Needing a distraction, Maddie turned her focus to the apartment rather than its occupant.

  Murphy’s place was definitely small, but what it lacked in space it made up in charm and warmth. Along with a few softly glowing lamps, candles illuminated the space, and she had combated the blandness of the dull, flat beige walls that plagued most apartments with
brightly colored accents throughout. A large, comfortable-looking blue couch sat opposite a small television, and tidy, organized bookshelves lined one wall. In a move Maddie found oddly satisfying, she had organized her books according to color, a technique Maddie now considered implementing in her own home. A vase of flowers adorned her coffee table, and a few eye-catching rugs covered the floors in the living room as well as down the hallway that led (Maddie assumed) to the forbidden territory of her bedroom.

  Pushing that thought (and its many distracting offshoots) right out of her head, Maddie returned her focus to the living room where, in an acrobatic display worthy of a circus or the Olympic games, a large black and white cat—Stanley, she presumed—had begun grooming himself in earnest on the back of her couch.

  The space, neat and tidy as Maddie’s home, held more feminine touches than she had expected. Confronting her own preconceived notions (and ashamed of herself for allowing them), she realized she had an idea of a cop’s house, and this wasn’t it.

  In her mind, Murphy’s place should have looked more like a bunker or dormitory, something more sparse and militaristic. She had expected to see Murphy’s police gear—handcuffs, gun, cop utility belt (which probably had a better name)—sitting out in the open, ready for action. But there was nothing that indicated she spent her days taking down bad guys.

  Really what did Maddie expect—every available surface would be festooned with cop paraphernalia?

  “Does it pass inspection?”

  Murphy’s question brought her attention back to her unexpected dinner companion.

  “Pardon?”

  “My apartment. You’ve been studying it since you sat down. I’m just wondering if it’s up to your standards.”

  “I’m sorry. This is unfamiliar territory for me. I wasn’t expecting—”

  “A dinner appointment?” Murphy had the most adorable dimple when she smiled, and Maddie had to look away again or risk feeding her already gargantuan crush on Officer Murphy.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked, bringing Maddie’s attention back to her.

  “Water if you’ve got it.” Maddie grimaced, wishing she could somehow erase her statement. What did she think—that Officer Murphy lived in the only residence in the city without plumbing?

  “Plenty of water, or I have stronger options.” She held a bottle of wine in one hand, two glasses in the other. That plus the candlelight made Maddie wonder if she wanted to get more from this evening than a cat sitter. As soon as the thought appeared, she dismissed it. On what planet would someone who looked like Murphy either be interested in or have to work at seducing someone like Maddie?

  “You may not be on duty, Officer Murphy, but I am.”

  “Well, when are you off duty?” She smiled again, and Maddie’s eyes were riveted to that damn dimple.

  “As soon as I’m finished here,” she admitted, suddenly wondering why she hadn’t hesitated to expose the flimsiness of her excuse—if Murphy wanted, it wouldn’t be difficult to work around this obstacle to them sharing a drink.

  “So you’re saying that once we’ve wrapped up all of our very important pet-related businessing, you’ll be free to have a drink with me.”

  Maddie tamped down the inner pessimistic optimist that read (most likely incorrectly) her invitation as an advance, reminded her that she no longer had the option of being receptive to flirtation and warned her she was headed for trouble. For all she knew, Murphy wasn’t flirting at all, even though it seemed that way. Still, it would be best to say no.

  “Yes,” Maddie answered. “Once we take care of what I came here for, I’m all yours. I mean, I’m all yours now.” She felt the heat of a blush like a solar flare flood her face and dropped her bright red head into her hands. Why did words hate her so much? “I mean, after we tend to business, I’d be happy to have a drink with you.”

  A grinning Murphy nodded once and disappeared into the kitchen. She returned a moment later with two glasses of wine, which she deposited next to their plates on the small table before breezing into the living room.

  “So let’s talk about cats,” she said as she settled on her couch.

  “What about dinner? I thought you were starving.”

  “It can wait a few minutes.” She punctuated her statement with another of those dimple-producing smiles.

  Grabbing her bag, she joined Murphy on her couch, inspiring a sullen departure from Stanley, who offered a steady stream of grumbling meows as he stomped out of the room. Maddie perched on the opposite end of the couch from Murphy, hopeful it would allow her to maintain more than just physical distance. “All right, then. Let’s talk about cats.”

  Just then Herbie leapt into Maddie’s lap, turned in a circle, laid down and started purring. She stroked his sleek fur and scratched under his chin, then behind his ear, bringing forth an increase in volume.

  “You are shameless.” Murphy’s broad grin was at odds with her criticism. “Aren’t cats supposed to be aloof? You could at least wait until I’m gone to replace me.”

  “It’s not his fault,” Maddie offered. “Animals can’t resist me.”

  “I don’t imagine they can.” This time a wink accompanied her easy smile, and there was that dimple again.

  Maddie felt herself losing the battle not to blush and turned away. To distract herself from the powerful allure of one Officer Dimples Murphy, she focused on extracting a contract from her bag—delicately so as not to evict the now-sleeping kitten from her lap.

  “Tell me what you want,” Maddie said. She didn’t even need Murphy’s reaction to know she hadn’t phrased her request in the most innocent way possible.

  Worrying what new and fabulous way she would find to humiliate herself before this conversation ended, she decided silence was her best friend and sat expectantly, pen poised and ready to jot down notes, hoping Murphy would have mercy on her and steer the conversation back in the right direction soon.

  Through her grin, Murphy explained she’d be gone for the next three days, returning Friday evening.

  “Where are you headed?” Maddie asked, though it was none of her business. She hoped Murphy found her nosiness more charming than off-putting.

  “Nashville,” she answered with no indication of the purpose of her trip or whether she looked forward to it or not.

  “Oh,” Maddie said and then asked about her preferred schedule for visits.

  Over the next ten minutes, Murphy explained her cats’ particular needs (including the proper method of playing with the wand toys that Herbie was partial to), showed Maddie where to find food, treats, toys, and the litter box, and signed the contract and handed over her keys. When she placed the keys in Maddie’s outstretched hand, their contact again lasted longer than necessary, and she regretted agreeing to dinner or a drink with Murphy.

  She attempted to speak around the sudden lump in her throat. “I’ll make sure they get all the love and attention they need.” She didn’t know how long they sat there silently staring at each other, unable to move, the air charged.

  “And food,” Murphy said, breaking the spell. “Stanley will never forgive you if you forget the food.”

  “I would never forget the food.”

  “Speaking of which.” She gestured to the table by the kitchen, with its candles and wine and required closeness—easily as intimate a setting as the one she’d shared the night before with Nadia—and she panicked.

  “About that,” Maddie grasped for a foothold. “Thank you for the offer, Officer Murphy, but I should really get going. It’s getting late.”

  “It’s six thirty.”

  “I have a big day of pet care ahead of me tomorrow, and I’ll need to be well rested.” She looked deflated but went to get Maddie’s coat. “I’ll see your boys tomorrow, and I’ll let you know how they’re doing. Have a good trip.”

  With that, she was out the door, and as soon as she heard the lock click behind her, she sank against the wall and groaned. “I am in so much
trouble.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time she got a block from Murphy’s building, Maddie wanted to find a megalith to crawl under. It wasn’t enough that her complete lack of composure got the best of her as soon as Murphy opened the door, but she had to choose that moment to launch herself into Olympic-level mortification. If it wouldn’t remind Murphy of what she really hoped she would forget given enough time (or an amnesia-inducing blow to the head), she would call her new client and apologize for her extreme overreaction.

  She could just imagine that conversation. “Sorry I fled your apartment, but I thought you were hitting on me, and since I’m insanely attracted to you and apparently have zero willpower or loyalty to my girlfriend of less than twenty-four hours, I couldn’t stay. I hope you understand.” It would be better to let Murphy think she was just a little quirky. On the plus side, if Murphy actually did like her, Maddie’s behavior would be enough to end whatever fleeting attraction might have been there. And if nothing else, at least she’d maintained her long-standing tradition of humiliating herself in the presence of a beautiful woman.

  Feeling unduly hopeful that she’d exhausted her aptitude for embarrassing herself, she turned her thoughts to the evening ahead. Considering she would be heading into lesbian central, she probably should have been more worried about her knack for doing and saying the exact wrong thing in the most public way possible, but she felt oddly calm. Not about making any progress in her investigation—on that front she had next to no confidence—but since she wasn’t heading to Pi in search of romance, her usual social jitters were absent—a refreshing and unexpected consequence of making up with Nadia.

  As if summoned by Maddie’s thoughts, the object of her appreciation chose that moment to call. “I was just thinking about you.”

  “Well that’s a good sign,” Nadia purred. “Hey, how did it go with your client? I’m not interrupting, am I?” she asked, earning points for remembering anything Maddie said during the snippets of conversation that had interspersed their intense making out the night before.