by Gerri Hill
She’d just taken a bite from her pastry when her phone rang. “O’Connor,” she said with a mouth full.
“It’s me. Grab the team. We’ve got a homicide. I don’t know if she’s ours or not.”
Casey stood, snapping her fingers at Sikes and Tucker. “Where?”
“Cascades.”
“Cascades? That’s where we picked up John.”
“I know. I’ll meet you there. And, O’Connor, bring my cappuccino.” She slipped her phone back into the clip on her belt and grabbed her coffee. “Another woman. Cascades.” She pointed at Tori’s coffee. “Sikes, bring that for her, will you?” She looked around. “Where the hell’s Malone?”
“He’s out this morning. Doctor,” Sikes reminded her.
“Which is why Tori got the call,” she murmured, hurrying out the door with the others.
She and Leslie automatically went to her truck, then stopped, looking at John. While it was a large truck with extra cab space behind the seats, no way he could fit back there. They all looked at each other, waiting.
“Look. I’ll take my own. It’ll just be easier,” he said. “Meet you there.”
As she got inside, she wondered why they just didn’t all ride in John’s car, but he was already pulling away. Fine. They could do this. They were adults.
“I’m sorry,” Leslie said unexpectedly.
Casey started the truck and backed out. “For what?”
“For earlier. For calling you the other night. For—”
“You don’t have to apologize. Forget it.”
“Forget it? Forget what, Casey? What should I forget?”
Casey turned, meeting her eyes. “Everything. Let’s just forget everything.”
She heard rather than saw the smile. A smile, but a sad smile. “How is it we manage to talk about it without really talking about it, Casey?”
“Because it is very scary, that’s why.”
“Are we afraid to say it out loud?”
“Apparently.” She sped up, just missing the light on Gaston. She took a deep breath. “So, how was your weekend?”
“Is that your not so subtle way of changing the subject?”
“Yes.” She felt Leslie turn away from her and she wanted to apologize for being so abrupt. But she didn’t.
“Okay. We won’t say it out loud then. We’ll change the subject, O’Connor.” She shrugged. “Wonderful weekend.”
“Good.”
“Yeah. Good.”
Casey turned sharply, practically tossing Leslie against the door as she pulled into the Cascades parking lot. Three units, a fire truck, an ambulance and the ME’s van. Plenty to attract the attention of the neighbors. She got out without waiting for Leslie, needing to escape her presence, if only for a few moments.
But it was short-lived. As they rounded the corner, she felt Leslie’s hand on her arm, stopping her.
“Look. It’s the same apartment.”
Casey stopped. “You’re right. Goddamn,” she whispered.
“Hey, guys, over here,” Tori called. “Apartment one thirty-four. First floor, just like the others.”
“What was her name?” Leslie asked.
“Rhonda Lampton,” she said.
“Hampton,” Sikes corrected her.
“Right. Hampton. Rhonda Hampton. Age twenty-four.”
“We were here,” Casey said.
“What? When?”
“The other night. We were here.” She turned, pointing to the shrubs lining the small patio. “This is where we found John.”
“The same goddamn apartment?” Tori stared at them. “What the fuck?”
“What the fuck what?” Casey said loudly. “He was jacking off, staring in this apartment. Are we supposed to know his brother is going to hit the same goddamn apartment?”
“Hey, guys. Calm down,” Sikes said, grabbing Tori by the arm and pulling her away.
“I’m sorry, O’Connor. It’s just—”
Casey plunged her hands into her hair. “I know. Hell, I know.”
Leslie stepped forward. “If we can discuss this rationally,” she said, looking at both Tori and Casey, “perhaps we can figure out how Patrick knew this was the apartment. Does John do recon for him? Does John brag about him being able to watch women without getting caught? Is this how Patrick might know who lives alone and who doesn’t?”
“Without having him evaluated, we don’t really know whether John is slow or not, or is just faking,” Tori said. “Because this,” she said, pointing at the apartment, “is just too goddamn much.”
“He’s not faking it,” Leslie said.
“You can’t be sure. He could be playing you.”
“No. I don’t think so. He never changed his demeanor, his speech. It all came too naturally for him.”
Tori glared at them. “Find him. Bring him in.”
“On what charges?”
“Make something up. I don’t care,” she said as she stormed away. “Just find him.”
“Why the hell is she pissed at us?” Leslie asked.
Casey smiled. “That’s just Hunter. That’s just what she does.”
“She’s scary.”
“Yeah, she is. But I love her anyway.” She looked quickly at Leslie. “Come on.”
Leslie drove down Elm for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She felt like she was as familiar with the surrounding streets now as she was the back of her hand. They’d been at it all day. And they’d not seen even a trace of John Doe. They’d taken a break at five, meeting back up at seven. Leslie knew Casey was tired from driving all day, so she volunteered her car for the night shift.
And the night was proving to be as quiet as the day. Quiet as in Casey wasn’t saying much. Quiet as in she was about to snap.
“Are you asleep?” she finally asked. It had been at least a half hour since they’d spoken and Casey was in the same position, staring out the side window.
“No. Not asleep.” Casey flexed her shoulders and shifted in the seat. “Just watching, that’s all.”
Leslie endured another long silence, long enough to travel down Elm twice more and make a circle over to Gaston. And she’d had enough.
“Casey, I want to talk about it,” she blurted out. “I can’t stand this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re engaged to be married.” She turned to look at her for the first time in hours. “So there’s nothing to really talk about.”
Leslie stared at the road, not knowing where to start. “Speaking of engaged, they want a December wedding.”
Casey’s head jerked up. “December? This December?”
“Yes. Three months.” She could feel Casey withdraw from her even more, could feel the tension in the car. But she didn’t care. She wanted to talk about it.
“Wow. Three months,” Casey said quietly. “I guess you’ll be busy between now and then.”
Leslie pounded her hand on the steering wheel. “Goddammit, Casey! This is ridiculous. You know as well as I do that I’m not getting married in December.”
“Look—”
“No, you look. I’m tired of ignoring this.” She snatched up her phone, scrolling until she found Tori. It rang only twice. “Hunter? It’s Tucker. Listen, we haven’t had any luck. We’re going to call it a night.” She nodded. “Good. See you tomorrow.” She glanced at Casey. “They’re done too.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you to get your truck, then I’m going to follow you home. We’re going to talk.”
“Les, please. There’s nothing to say. This is what it is. End of story.”
“Why do I feel like we’re talking in code? Why do we talk around it?” She looked at Casey, then back to the road. “I’m attracted to you. There. I’ve said it out loud.”
“Leslie, please…don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t be attracted to you?” She turned into their parking lot, stopping beside Casey’s truck. She turned in her seat, facing her. “But
I am attracted to you. And you know I’m attracted to you.” She reached over and took Casey’s hand, holding it tight when she tried to pull away. “And I know the feeling is mutual,” she whispered. “I’m tired of pretending this isn’t happening.” She felt Casey stiffen, but she refused to release her hand.
“Okay. So we’ve said it out loud. And yes, the feeling is mutual. But we’ve got two problems here. One, we’re partners. And that can’t happen. And two, you’re engaged, for Christ’s sake.”
She finally released Casey’s hand and pushed the button to unlock the doors. “Please, Casey. Let’s don’t have this discussion in my car. Can we go to your place and talk? Please.”
She could see the indecision cross Casey’s face, could feel her hesitation. Finally, she nodded.
“You’re right.” Their eyes met. “We should talk.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Here,” Casey said, handing Leslie a glass of wine. She was pleased that her hand didn’t shake. She turned her back to her, leaning on the railing instead, looking out over the water. She liked it better when they were ignoring it. At least that way she didn’t feel quite so school girlish.
She heard Leslie get out of the chair, felt her move up beside her. She mimicked her pose, resting her arms on the railing, staring out into the darkness.
“What’s wrong? Are you nervous? Or embarrassed?” Leslie guessed.
Casey smiled. “Both, I guess. I’ve just committed the cardinal sin for lesbians.”
“What’s that?”
“Not only are you straight, you’re also engaged. Double whammy.”
Leslie tilted her head slightly as she watched her. “Oh, I get it. You assume you’re the first woman I’ve been attracted to and I’m going through some freakish curiosity phase before I get married. Is that it?”
“Is that not it?”
“Don’t you think I’m a bit old for a game like that?”
Casey turned to face her. “Are we going to talk in circles again? Or are we going to just talk?”
Leslie smiled. “Oh, now she’s brave.”
Casey nodded. “Let me start by telling you a story.”
“How much wine do you have? Because I have a story too.”
“You want to stay out here or go inside?”
“No, it’s nice out. Tell me your story.”
“Well, it’s about the cardinal sin,” she said. “I met this woman when I was in the Academy. We hit it off right away. Turns out she’d just broken up with her boyfriend. I should have run right then.” Casey sipped from her wine, surprised that the memory of that time still smarted. She’d been so naive. She glanced at Leslie, still feeling very naive at thirty-three. “But I didn’t run. I was infatuated with her. And she with me. And our affair lasted nearly a month. Until she went back with her boyfriend. She said her curiosity about having sex with a woman had been satisfied. And the fact was, her sleeping with another woman really turned her boyfriend on.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. So you see, I’ve committed this sin before. I got involved with somebody I worked with, somebody with a boyfriend.” She turned slowly, meeting her eyes. “And I don’t want to do it again.”
“I understand.”
Leslie moved away, going to the other end of the deck, into the shadows. Casey waited as she rested a hip against the railing, watched as she took a sip of her wine. Now who was nervous?
“I was nineteen,” Leslie said finally. “And I had this grand plan for my life. I thought it was grand because it was nothing like my mother’s life had ended up. And I knew without a doubt I didn’t want to be like my mother, one loser husband after another.” She moved, coming closer again. “I would graduate college, get a good job, marry a nice man who would be good to me and live happily ever after. It seemed simple enough.” She drank the last of her wine and set the glass on the railing beside her. “I didn’t count on Carol Ann coming into my life.”
Casey kept quiet, only moving to refill Leslie’s wineglass.
“We were roommates in the dorm. And she was a lesbian. And I was totally and completely enamored by her.” She took the wine, staring into the glass. “And the first time we kissed, I knew. It was so different than kisses I’d shared with boys. My body came alive.” She smiled. “My body came alive, and I freaked out. It wasn’t in my plans to fall for a woman.” She moved again, back into the shadows. “It didn’t matter. I couldn’t resist her touch. But I couldn’t allow myself to fall in love with her either. So each night when she came to me, when our touches grew bolder, when I simply ached with wanting her, I would turn her away. I couldn’t let her do it. I saw my mother. And I remembered my plan. And Carol Ann wasn’t in it. So I pushed her away.”
Casey stared at her, trying to find her eyes in the shadows, wanting to see her face, but Leslie stayed hidden.
“I pushed her away. I pushed all those feelings away. And I went about my life. I never let myself get close to another woman. I had very few women friends. I couldn’t take a chance. Then I met Michael and it seemed okay. It was good enough.” She paused, staring out at the lake. “But it’s not good enough,” she said quietly. “I’m not in love with him. I’ve never been in love with him. I thought maybe it would come. He’s good to me, and he thinks it’s all good with us. So I thought…well, I thought I could be happy.” She turned to Casey then. “I knew the first day I saw you, I knew that you would be the one to throw my plan into shambles,” she said with a quiet laugh. “I knew I was attracted to you. But I ignored it. Until that night when you held me. I couldn’t ignore it any longer.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Leslie came out of the shadows, smiling. “Oh, God, Casey. So now you’re going to feel guilty because you’ve come in and screwed up my plan?” Her hand moved between them, gently touching her arm. “Obviously, my plan was flawed,” she said lightly. She dropped her hand, putting some space between them.
Casey didn’t know what to say. Shocked by the story, yes. Should she be though? Wasn’t there something about the way Leslie carried herself? Confident and sure. Never playing down a level like some women did whenever a man was around. She closed her eyes. There was still one problem with her story.
“You have a fiancé.”
“Yes, I do.” She walked past Casey to get the wine bottle. “For all of my complaining about him, he’s really a nice, decent man. And he’s going to be extremely hurt.” She paused. “But what I said was the truth. I’m not in love with him. And this is going to hurt him badly.” Instead of refilling her glass, she put the bottle down. “You’re right. We have two problems. I have a fiancé, and you and I are partners.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m very tired.”
Casey nodded.
“I should go.” She turned around, facing Casey. “Thank you. Thank you for talking,” she said.
“Did we resolve anything?”
“No. I don’t guess we did.” She walked closer. “I just didn’t want this distance between us. No matter what, we should be able to be friends, right?”
“Right.”
“Good.” She paused. “So, I’m going to go. It’s late.”
Casey stood there stupidly, wondering…what? But Leslie smiled sweetly and took the couple of steps necessary. Their hug should have been brief. At least, that’s what she told herself. But when she felt Leslie slip into her arms, when her own arms closed around her, brief was the last thing on her mind. Long dormant feelings roared to life as they held each other, as they listened to their heartbeats, as their bodies melted together.
Leslie was the one who pulled away, her eyes dark, excited. She took a step back, but Casey felt her trembling. Or was it herself she felt?
“Friends?” Leslie murmured.
Casey nodded. “Friends.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“How can someone just disappear?”
Leslie smiled. “Again, a rhetorical question?”
<
br /> They’d been at it all week, looking for John Doe. They’d cruised the streets, day and night. They’d shown his picture around and were met with blank stares. They’d staked out the shelter at meal times to no avail. It was almost as if he didn’t exist. Even Maria—who said John ate there most days—hadn’t seen him.
So here they were again, Friday afternoon, driving down Elm. They had driven Deep Ellum and the surrounding area so much, she thought she could find her way with her eyes closed. She turned slowly, watching Casey’s profile as she drove. It had been a week since they’d had their talk. A week. And they hadn’t mentioned it since. Oh, it was there. When they looked at each other, when they’d touch—however innocent—it was there. But at least the tension, the distance, was gone. But in its place was an artificial cheeriness, both of them going out of their way to make things seem normal between them. And it wasn’t quite normal.
Because there was Michael.
She turned away from Casey, looking again out the window, her eyes darting over the pedestrians who strolled down Elm Street. Yes, there was still Michael. But in her defense, when is a good time to tell the man you’re engaged to that you’re not in love with him? Do you just blurt it out over dinner one night? Not that they’d had a chance to have dinner, of course. Not when she was working, day and night. And Michael, for his part, had ceased his complaining that she was never home. He was out having fun with his friends. In fact, more often than not, she beat him home each night. And more often than not, he would wake her up, wanting to make love.
And she was running out of excuses. Tired, headache, just got her period, not in the mood. She’d used them all. But the weekend was here. There would be no more excuses. She would have to tell him. And then what? Was she ready to admit that her life had just been one big charade? At thirty-two, could she finally accept what she’d already known at nineteen?
She looked again at Casey, letting her eyes linger.
Yes.
She was a lesbian.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re kinda quiet.”
“Mmm.”
Without thinking, she reached across the console, resting her hand on Casey’s arm, letting her fingers tighten. Such an innocent touch, yet she could feel the electricity between them. For just a second, blue eyes captured hers. A second, that’s all. But that’s all it took. In that short instance, everything made perfect sense to her. This woman sitting beside her—this beautiful woman—could set her soul on fire.