by Dan Alatorre
Sergio turned to Tyree. “Speaking of Abbie, did she talk to Big Brass about re-joining with his old group of drug dealers to be our inside man?”
Tyree nodded. “She did. He said no. He said being a snitch goes against his moral code.”
“Oh.”
“But . . .” Tyree folded his arms over his chest. “Mrs. Dilger called me to discuss taking down all the debate stuff. I happened to mention Lavonte’s moral dilemma. She said protecting the kids of Tampa against drugs would be worth $100,000 to her personally, and that allowed him to see the light.”
Sergio grinned. “So he’ll help Abbie out?”
“Yep.”
“That’s awesome for him.”
“Not just for him,” Tyree said. “She’s been watching the news all day. As a temporary employee of hers involved in the taking down of the sniper, she feels your actions warrant a bonus. There’s a $40,000 credit in your name at Hoskins Chevrolet.”
“Wow.” Sergio put his hand to his forehead. “I could get used to this. Forty grand as a down payment on a quality, pre-owned Porsche?”
“Or reimbursement for a Camaro you owe someone.” Tyree gestured to Carly.
Sergio gazed at his partner. “What do you say? Wanna go car shopping sometime this week? They probably have a Christmas special going on.”
“Maybe.” Carly rubbed her eyes. “Call me. It’s been a long day. I’m going to go home and get some sleep.”
* * * * *
While Abbie prepared for her date with Sergio by shopping with her substitute bodyguard Big Brass, Sergio sat at home, pondering his new reality. A future seeing his old partner every day, but not interacting the way they used to. Less talking, less texting . . . less everything.
He sat on his couch, staring at a plastic cup from an old steakhouse.
The past is gone.
Time to part with what you can’t have and should never have wanted.
He got his laptop, went to the kitchen table, and typed a letter. After reading it over twice, he printed it out and read it one more time.
Lieutenant Davis,
It is with heartfelt sadness that I give notice of my intention to resign from the Tampa Police Department, effective thirty days from today. My reasons are personal and in no way reflect on you, the Department, or any actions taken by the City of Tampa.
Sincerely,
Sergio Martin
He swallowed hard, looking at the letter, then signed it.
Short but sweet.
Carly didn’t need to know she was the reason. He’d lie if she asked. But she also deserved to hear about this from him, and not get it through the grapevine or an internal email from HR.
Sergio checked the time. His date with Abbie wasn’t for a few more hours.
I guess I can go for a drive.
The highway was practically deserted. Although the malls were packed and the blue tarps had come down from the gas stations, the people of Tampa seemed to be getting around without the use of I-75 and I-275. Sergio made the trip to Brandon in record time.
He stopped a block away from the house, staring at it from a distance. Green and red lights dotted the bushes in the front yard. A wreath hung in the window. Near the walk, an inflatable Santa rocked back and forth in the gentle breeze.
He inspected the sky. It was dark blue, turning black, as the remaining slivers of sunset faded from the heavens. Tiny raindrops fell, the beginning of a typical Christmas week. As a kid, it always seemed to rain as soon as his parents put up the outside lights and decorations.
He tapped the wipers, taking the drops off the windshield.
You’re stalling. Just go.
Shutting off the engine, he clutched his letter, opened the car door, and got out.
* * * * *
Sergio rang the bell and stepped back, his nerves making him uneasy in a way he could not ignore. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he folded the paper and shoved it into his back pocket.
You decided this was the best thing, and it is—for you, and for her. Stop acting nervous.
Tiny raindrops collected on his shoulder. As he wiped them off, the door opened.
Carly leaned on the door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Marty. Hi.”
Marty. I’ll miss that, too.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
His heart ached. She looked adorable to him, standing there in her old sweatpants and with her hair all messed up.
“I, uh . . .” He shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”
“You live forty-five minutes from the neighborhood.” Carly chuckled softly, wrinkling her nose up with her smile. “What’s up? Everything okay?”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I kinda wanted to run something by you.”
“Yeah, sure.” She let go of the door, wrapping her arms around herself. “Did you want to come in?”
“No, no. This, uh . . . it’ll only take a minute.”
She nodded, her voice soft, her eyes on him. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Sergio looked down. The porch was dotted with rain. “So, I was thinking, it might be best—for me, and really for everyone—if I, uh . . .”
He rehearsed it over and over in his mind during the drive to her house, but now the words stuck in his throat.
I’m resigning. I’m leaving the force.
It’s been a long day and a long week, but it’s been eye opening.
I’ve always had feelings for you. You know that. And the truth is, as long as we work together, that’s not going to change. It’s not right, and it’s not fair to you or to me, so the best thing is to not make it difficult for myself.
I’ve missed you a lot in a short amount of time, and I realized something. When I think about seeing you in the office, not talking to you every day, things not being how they were . . . it’s stupid, but I can’t do it.
I don’t want to do it.
So I’m quitting.
The rain fell harder. He looked up into her eyes. “Wow, this is tougher than I thought.”
She stepped back and opened the door. “You’re getting wet. Why don’t you come in?”
“No, no.” He looked down again. “I just need a minute.”
“Well, I’ve had something I wanted to tell you, too. Maybe I should go first.”
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
“About the car. The Camaro. Dad gave me that car when he was in the hospital. He said, ‘You can be too uptight, kiddo. You need a reminder to have more fun.’ It took me a while to understand what he meant, but at the party the other night . . . I realized something.” She looked into his eyes. “Working with you was the most fun I ever had.”
“Yeah. We had some good times.” He put his hand behind his back, running his finger along the edge of the paper.
“We did,” she said. “The thing is . . .”
He looked up, his gaze going to the living room. Several cardboard boxes sat on the floor where the couch used to be. Pictures were missing from the walls. Sergio blinked a few times. “You moving?”
She sighed, shaking her head. “Kyle is. He’s leaving. He left, actually.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Sergio lowered his voice. “Are you okay? Do the boys know?”
“The boys are at my mom’s tonight. And believe it or not, I’m pretty okay. I’ve had a few months to get used to the idea. Really, Kyle left a long time ago. He just didn’t take his things until now.” She looked at the clock on the wall. “I was thinking about maybe heading over to Mom’s after I boxed up a few more things.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll uh . . . get going.”
“Wait. I’m not really up for that, and . . . I was going to say something else.”
Sergio looked at her. She was massaging her hands.
His phone buzzed. It took a few rings before he realized.
He pulled it from his pocket and saw Abbie’s name on the screen. “I, uh . . .” Sergio pointed to the phone.
&n
bsp; Carly stepped back, opening the door. “Take it in here. You’re getting soaked.”
“No, no. It’s, uh, an . . . I had an appointment tonight, and . . .”
“An appointment?” She raised her eyebrows. “At this hour? You mean a date.”
“Let me just—this will just take a second.” He backed away, raising a finger. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” Carly pushed the door almost closed, leaving a gap of an inch or two for him.
Through the window, he saw her go to the living room. Turning away, Sergio walked to the end of the porch and answered his phone. “Hey, Abbie! What’s up?”
“Well, I was wondering if you liked French food. Because I called Le Maisonnet . . .”
Sergio glanced at the rainy sky, then to the house. Through the window, Carly sat on her couch and put her head in her hands.
Sergio’s heart sank.
“. . . so then Andre said they might be able to squeeze us in as a favor, but he’d have to ask Reynaldo . . .”
Lifting her chin, Carly tossed her hair over her shoulder and went into the kitchen.
“So?” Abbie said. “What do you think?”
Sergio stared at the house.
“Sergio? Did we get cut off?”
He pulled himself back to the phone conversation. “Well, to be honest . . .” Sergio lowered his voice, walking toward the street. “I was talking to a friend and . . . they’re having a bit of a rough night, so I thought I should be a friend and—”
“Carly?”
“What?” Sergio asked, raindrops hitting his shoulders and head.
“Is it Carly?”
He winced. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s Carly. I’m really—”
“As it happens, I actually needed to cancel, too.” Abbie said. “That’s . . . really why I called, of course—to see if our dinner plans could be changed. But looking at it now, I see it just won’t work. It seems I’m having to let a client go this evening.”
“Oh. That’s bad, huh?”
“Well, it’s complicated. We just started seeing each other, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s in love with another woman. I can’t be involved with someone who is in love with someone else.”
“Oh.” Sergio wiped a soggy strand of hair from his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were seeing another guy.”
“You,” Abbie said. “You’re the guy. You’re the client.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Sure you do.” She sighed. “Every time we talk about Carly, you get a stupid look on your face. The kind eighth grade boys get. I saw it at the party the other night. I know the look.”
“I don’t—”
“Let me finish,” Abbie said. “It’s okay. She gets the same look on her face. Being in love is a wonderful feeling, and I want you to be happy. But I can’t be spending time investing in somebody who’s not going to make me their priority, you know?”
A drop of rain fell from the tip of his nose. “I . . . I do, yeah.”
“So . . . I’ll see you around, huh?”
“Yeah.” Sergio nodded. “Okay, Abbie.”
He ended the call and stood in the rain, gazing at the house, a little sad and embarrassed, but a little happy, too.
He raced back to the door, stopped to gather himself, and then went inside. “Hey, I’m back.” He peeked around the corner to the living room. “Where were we?”
Carly returned from the kitchen with a glass of wine, a beer, and a bath towel. She set the drinks down on the coffee table and tossed the towel to Sergio. “I think you were just about to tell me if you decided to take the lieutenant’s offer.”
“I was, huh?” He rubbed the towel on the side of his head.
“You were. And then we were going to talk about a call I got from Governor Richie. He asked me to be on the newly-formed National Governors Association special serial killer task force.”
“That’s interesting.” Sergio wrapped the towel around his shoulders. “I got a call like that, too.”
“I know. Did you tell him you’d do it?”
“I wanted to think about it,” he said. “But now it seems like maybe I want to do it. We’re tied, after all, so we kinda have to.”
“Tied?” Carly picked up her glass.
“Yeah. It’s a serial killer task force. You got one, I got one. We’re tied. Best of three wins.”
She smiled, taking a sip of wine. “I see.”
“So, we’d be working together, like old times—at least sometimes.” He dried the top of his head, lowering himself to the couch. “With your new promotion, maybe not as much, but still.”
“I haven’t been promoted yet,” Carly said. “So—you’re accepting the lieutenant’s offer?”
“Uh . . .” Sergio put a hand behind his back and shoved the letter deep into his pocket. “Yeah, I guess I am.” He sat back on the sofa, smiling.
“Then maybe we should consider how things will operate going forward.” She sauntered across the living room. “With this new task force, we’ll be juggling workloads, dealing with out-of-state Governors—and dealing with the lieutenant’s propensity to be a complete tyrant . . .”
He shrugged. “I cancelled my da—uh, appointment, so I have some time, if you want to talk. But you said there was something else.”
“What?”
“Earlier—right when the phone rang. There was something else you wanted to say.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Carly sat beside him on the couch, tucking her legs up under her. “I think . . .” Carly looked up at him. “. . . there’s a reason you could always make me laugh, Marty. And why I always like talking with you so much.” She pushed her hair over her shoulder and looked into his eyes. “I haven’t always recognized a good thing when it was right in front of me.”
Sergio’s voice was a whisper. “New situations . . . are always tricky, dude. But I’m here for you.”
“Yes, you are. You always have been.” She nodded slowly, not taking her eyes off his. “So, as I said, we have a lot to talk about. A lot.” Carly took Sergio’s hand in hers. “Could take a while, partner. Maybe . . . all night.”
Chapter 47
Rex Addleson finished swimming laps in his backyard pool, popping up to wipe his eyes and grab his towel. Walking to the cabana, he wrapped himself in his thick robe as a cool breeze passed through the tall palm trees around the estate.
“You have to love Tampa,” he said. “There’s nothing like swimming outside on the morning of Christmas eve. How’s your sunburn?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine in a few days.” The lady of the house reclined in a chaise, out of the sun where she could read her laptop screen. She adjusted the blanket covering the bottom of her legs. “I can’t believe my ankles got sunburned so fast, just cruising around the bay on a yacht. I must be getting old.”
“You’re not old. You’re beautiful. Water reflects the light. Everybody knows that. You just didn’t think about putting sunscreen on your ankles.”
“You’re sweet.” She winked at him. “I’ll keep it bandaged like the doctor said. Did you see the overnight polls? You’re really doing well. I think you should consider asking Blumenthal to join your staff after you beat him. He’s a good guy.”
“It’s a thought.” Addleson ran the towel through his hair. “The voters would like it. People really go for that sentimental touch.”
“Really?” She picked up her sunglasses and put them on.
“Sure. Last year, there was a U.S. Senator who died in the middle of his re-election campaign. The Governor asked the Senator’s wife to run in his place. She won.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Addleson smiled at his beautiful fiancée. The large diamond on her finger sparkled nicely in the sunlight. “It’s funny. Voters always say they are mainly interested in policies, but they can also be very emotional. Almost sentimental.”
Setting her laptop aside, Bree nodded.
I know. I read that story a year ago.
T
he ants tingled on her spine.
THE END
Carly and Sergio will return in
DOUBLE BLIND BOOK 3
THIRD DEGREE
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A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed Primary Target. I have to tell you, I really love the characters of Carly and Sergio, and wish I had written this book sooner. (Though many readers wrote me asking, “What’s next for Big Brass?”) Well, stay tuned because the saga isn’t quite over. Big Brass will be back in book three, Third Degree. Will he find his happy ending? I sure hope so.
When I wrote Double Blind, I got so many letters from fans thanking me for the book. Some had an opinion about Sergio or Carly, while others rooted for Tyree and Big Brass. As an author, I love feedback. Candidly, you are the reason that I will explore Big Brass’ future. So, tell me what you liked, what you loved, even what you hated. I’d love to hear from you. You can write me HERE and visit me on the web HERE.
Finally, I need to ask a favor. If you’re so inclined, I’d love a review of Primary Target. Loved it, hated it, I’d just enjoy your feedback.
As you may have gleaned from my books, reviews can be tough to come by these days. You, the reader, have the power now to make or break a book. If you have the time, here’s the link to my author page on Amazon. You can find all of my books there.