by Laura Drewry
“I did what any self-respecting woman would do: I went shopping. Little retail therapy was just what I needed, and as it turned out, one of my coaches had a connection to the owner of this high-end boutique in downtown Toronto. We got to talking, she needed someone to work the summer, so ba-da-boom, ba-da-bing, I was hired.”
“And the journalism degree?”
“Never happened. I got on full-time at the boutique and never went back.”
“It’s the only thing she’s ever quit in her whole life.” Gail shook her head over a sigh. “I just hope she doesn’t come to regret that one day.”
“I won’t.” Ellie sipped her wine slowly. “I learned more working there than I ever would have learned sitting in a classroom for another two years. I’d probably still be working there if I hadn’t been arrested.”
“I still don’t understand why she had to move all the way out here,” Gail said. “Smart girl like her, she could’ve found work somewhere else, but oh no, she got it in her mind she had to get as far away as she could, and then Gabbie followed her the next year.”
And just like that Gail was back to her inquisition. Had Brett ever met Gabbie, did he have siblings, what did his parents do, did he have hobbies or pets? He answered each question patiently and evenly, although it meant he was barely able to touch his food.
Part of Ellie felt bad for him, sitting there getting peppered with all those questions, but a bigger part of her was grateful that she didn’t have to talk anymore. She’d already told him more about herself in the last half hour than she had in the four years since she’d met him.
Weird.
“And that tattoo,” Gail said, frowning slightly at the bottom half of it, not covered by his sleeve. “Does it symbolize something?”
“Yes, ma’am.” A splash of pink blotched his cheeks for a second. “It symbolizes my own stupidity. I planned on getting a small rose, in memory of my twin sister, but I, um, well…I’m not a big fan of needles, so my buddies took me out for a few drinks beforehand and, well, none of us really remembers what happened after that, other than I walked out with this. And to be honest, I’m not even sure what kind of flower it is, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a rose.”
“Well,” Gail sniffed. “It’s certainly…big.”
And sexy as hell! Luckily, Ellie swallowed the words before they could escape. Never having been close enough to study it, she could now see that the ink started at his elbow and wound up under his sleeve toward his shoulder in what looked like some kind of thorny vine type of flower.
Up until right about then, she’d never considered herself much of a tattoo lover. Strange how quickly that changed.
“Have you thought about applying for a corporal’s position?” Gail pushed. “You’d make more money, wouldn’t you?”
“Mom!”
“What? I’m just asking.”
“It’s fine. I’m happy being a CFL, ma’am.”
“CFL?” Gail frowned. “What does football have to do with it?”
“Nothing,” Ellie answered, giving him a chance to swallow. “It means Constable for Life, or at least I think that’s what Nick said. So, Mom, listen, I was thinking—”
“Did you ask him about the driving thing yet?”
“No, I—”
Ignoring Ellie, Gail turned straight back to Brett. “She got a letter from the Motor Vehicle Branch saying they’ve suspended her license—can you believe that?”
“Uh—”
“Mom—”
“She’s always been a bit of a leadfoot, and God only knows where she got that from. No one else in the family’s even been pulled over! And those tickets can’t be cheap, either, am I right? How much does a speeding ticket cost?”
“A hundred and thirty-eight dollars and three points,” Ellie muttered.
“A hundred and…each? Oh, for goodness sake.” Gail clicked her tongue but kept her conversation directed at Brett. “And now she has to take some kind of course, which I see you instruct.”
“Mom,” Ellie growled. “Just stop.”
“Stop what? You got yourself into this mess, and apparently he’s the one who can help get you out of it. I think you’d be happy that one of your friends is able to help, but if you’re too stubborn to ask just because he happens to be a cop, then maybe you deserve to ride your bike all over hell’s half acre getting soaked to the bone. If you end up with pneumonia, though, don’t come crying to me.”
In the time it took for the two of them to get that far into their argument, Brett had finally managed to fork in a few mouthfuls of dinner. He was halfway through a swallow when he realized that Gail was waiting for an answer.
“I, um…” A quick chug of milk; then he nodded. “I actually have a new set of classes starting Saturday. Sort of a hybrid class that covers new drivers and the safe driver’s course Ellie needs.”
“See?” Gail slapped her hand down on the table and grinned. “It’s all set, then.”
“But—” Ellie stopped. No point in going any further, since her mom had already left the table and Brett was busy attacking what was left on his plate in case she came back. Leaning across the table, Ellie lowered her voice. “You don’t have to do this. I can get a ride into the city—”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Damn Gail and her batlike hearing.
Brett kept shoveling his dinner in, leaving Ellie to answer. With a long sigh, she rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair.
“Because, Mom, if you must know, Poncherello here is the one who’s written most of my tickets.”
“Poncherello?” Gail’s frown quickly changed to surprise when she made the connection. “Oh, Ellie, honestly. Is that true, Brett?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.” It might have been nice if he’d pretended to think about it for a second before he answered.
“And,” Ellie continued, knowing full well it would do her no good. In for a penny, in for a pound. “He’s the one who revoked my license yesterday, so there’s that.”
Before Gail could ask for confirmation, Brett nodded. “I did that, too, yes.”
He gathered his dishes, slipped them into the dishwasher, then leaned back against the handle of the stove and nodded.
“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs. Palmer, but your daughter’s a menace on the road.”
“I am not,” Ellie cried, but they were both ignoring her.
“Do you think you can fix her?”
“Fix me? What am I, broken?”
He didn’t smile, didn’t even crinkle around the eyes, but his face relaxed, which was as close as he usually got to a smile. “If she’s willing to put in the work, I’m sure she’ll do just fine.”
Gail’s eyes lit up at him as though he’d just cured cancer. “No problem there. If there’s one thing she can’t stand, it’s losing, so if you turn this into a challenge, she’ll clamp onto it like a tick on a hound, if for no other reason than to prove everyone else wrong.”
Oh, for…
“Hello!” Ellie waved her hand between them. “Standing right here, fully capable of organizing my own self.”
Not only did Gail push Ellie’s hand away, but she wrapped her long, slim fingers in a vise grip around both of Ellie’s wrists and held them out of the way.
“You’ll save her a seat, then?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He might not be smiling, but Poncherello was enjoying this way too much for Ellie’s liking.
“It’s not junior high, Mom. I don’t need him to save me a seat so I don’t get stuck sitting with the stoners.”
That slowed Gail for all of about two seconds. “Are there stoners in your class?”
“There better not be.” Then, before Gail could ask anything else, he added, “Thank you very much for dinner, but I should probably get going.”
“You’re very welcome,” Gail gushed, releasing her grip on Ellie so she could pat his arm. “Come back anytime.”
With a brief nod, he he
aded for the front door, and Gail literally shoved Ellie after him.
“Go get your bike,” she said.
Not even sure what had just happened, Ellie stumbled out after him. Was it really only an hour or so ago that she’d actually thanked God for her mother?
“Sorry about that,” she said, folding her arms around herself to ward off the evening chill. “But I did warn you to take the Scotch, didn’t I?”
“It’s fine—she’s great.” After lifting her bike out of the back of the truck, he started walking it around the side of the house.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I can…Wait a second.”
Of course he didn’t wait at all, just kept on walking, pushing the bike along beside him and making Ellie hustle to catch up.
“Did you—” She didn’t have to finish because of course he had—the proof was glinting off the back of the seat, along the frame, and down both arms of the front fork. “You put reflectors on it.”
“Safety first,” he said, reciting the words as though they were some kind of personal motto.
It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t.
“Right. Safety. Okay. Uh…you can just leave it there. That’s great, thanks. What do I owe you?”
“Nothing; Tim said you could pay him the next time you’re by.” He leaned her bike up against the house, beside the back door, then gave her sensor light a doubtful look. “You should really lock it up.”
“I know. I mean, I will, thank you.”
“Good. Then, uh, I guess I’ll leave you to it.” They’d just rounded the corner at the front porch when his footsteps slowed. “Do you want a ride on Saturday? Class is in the multipurpose room at the high school, nine to five.”
Ellie stuffed her hands into her pockets and exhaled a long, slow breath before dropping her chin to her chest. How could she have let herself get into this mess? And of all people, why did it have to be Poncherello who could help get her out?
“No, but thank you again,” she chuckled. “I’ll figure it out.”
“So I’ll save you a seat, then?” He cleared his throat quietly and shrugged. “Just need to make sure I have enough materials for everyone.”
Of course she’d be there. What other choice did she have, really?
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” And though she hated to admit that Gail was right, the truth was, she’d be the best damn student he’d ever had. Top of the class, go big or go home, play to win, and all that crap.
On the top step, she turned back to face him. “Thanks again for the help with my bike. You really didn’t have to do it.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for dinner.”
“You said that already.” She lifted her foot to take a step, then stopped again. “Are you really moving back to Ontario?”
His left eyebrow lifted slightly. “That’s the plan.”
“Huh.” Nodding absently, she blinked back at him for a second. “Well, as happy as my bank account’s going to be about that, Nick and Jayne are really going to miss you.”
She’d just grabbed the doorknob when his voice stopped her.
“Not you, though?” There it was again—that barely there ripple of mirth in his voice that gave away his joke, even if his expression didn’t. “Not even a little bit?”
“Ha,” she snorted, but she couldn’t stop the smile as she shot him a look over her shoulder. “In your dreams—”
Holy mother of the sweet baby Jesus! If he hadn’t been standing in the glow of the porch light, she might have actually missed it, but there it was…there he was…his expression relaxed, the corners of his mouth tipped up a little, a slight flash of teeth, and that dimple…
Yowza.
Wait a second! What was she doing? She didn’t smile at cops, she didn’t make nice with them, and she sure as hell didn’t care if they left town or not. What she did care about was getting inside the house right that very second.
“G’night.” In one not-so-smooth move, she turned to go in, lost her grip on the doorknob, and slammed face-first into the closed door. “Oof!”
“What the— Are you okay?” By the time his foot hit the first step, Ellie’s hand was already up.
“Yeah, I-I’m fine.” With both hands now over her nose, which, thankfully, wasn’t bleeding, she nodded briskly as she desperately tried to control the tears that had sprung up. Ugh—taking a shot to the nose always made a person look like a wimp, and Ellie didn’t do wimp very well. “Guess I’m supposed to turn the doorknob first.”
“That’s generally how it works, yeah.” Why did he have to be standing right in front of her now? Why couldn’t he have just stayed on the bottom step? “Let’s have a look.”
“No, it’s…it’s fine.” He was way too close for her liking. Between rapid-fire blinks, she forced a smile, then realized he couldn’t see it anyway, with her hands covering her face like that. “Not the first time I’ve taken a hit to the nose, though, uh, every other time it came from a bat or a ball. Or an air bag.”
“You sure?” No smile, no dimple, just back to his usual straight face. Good.
“Y-yeah, yeah, it’s fine.” Taking the doorknob tight in her right hand, she cranked it around, pushed the door open, and forced a short laugh. “Look at that. Infinitely less painful when it’s open.”
He tipped his chin up a little but waited until she’d stepped inside before saying anything.
“G’night, Ellie.”
Chapter 5
“Regret for the past is a waste of spirit.”
—Detective Andy Sipowicz, NYPD Blue
There were few things worse than being idle, and with a four-on, four-off schedule, Brett had plenty of time on his hands, which was why he’d taken on the position as driving instructor. It was also the reason he spent so much time swinging a hammer with Nick.
They’d been friends since the first week Brett started at the detachment. Nick had been hired to build an attached space for Emergency Operations, and as one of the busiest contractors in town, he never refused help, so it was a win-win. Free labor in return for free lessons on how to do things like framing, roofing, and hanging drywall. Or in cases like today, cutting and hanging crown molding.
“Seriously, man, how do you figure that shit out so fast?”
“It’s easy.” Nick pulled the flat pencil from between his teeth and nodded toward the saw he’d set up in the garage of his latest job. “There are only a handful of different cuts, and once you know the spring and wall angles, it’s a simple calculation. We’re working with a forty-five-degree spring angle and the corner there is eighty-eight, so you just—”
“Forget it. You’re holding it backward to start with, so you cut, I’ll hang.”
“Not backward—you’re just gimp-handed.” Chuckling quietly, Nick bent over the length of molding, adjusted its angle against the saw blade, and made the cut.
“Jayne’s having everyone over to meet Ellie’s mom tonight, so I’m bugging out and going to Carter’s for the game. Wanna come?”
“Sure.” Brett carried the strip of molding into the hallway off the garage and secured it just like Nick had shown him. “Have you met her?”
“Ellie’s mom? No, but from what Jayne says, the old lady’s the only person Ellie’s ever backed out of an argument with.”
“Hmm.”
“What?” Nick pulled half a sandwich out of the cooler and talked over his mouthful. “What’s that look mean?”
“Nothing. It didn’t seem like she ‘backs out’ so much as she just knows which battles are worth fighting.”
It took Nick a second to swallow. “How do you know? Have you met the mother?”
“Well, yeah, she was there the other night.”
“What other night? What are you talking about?”
“When I had dinner at Ellie’s.”
As fast as Nick’s jaw dropped, his brow shot up. “You had dinner at Ellie’s? How the hell did that happen?”
“You didn’t hear about it?”
“Uh, no.”
It was no secret Jayne was notoriously tight-lipped around most people, but it was also no secret that she told Nick everything. So if he didn’t know, that meant Jayne didn’t know, which meant Ellie probably didn’t want them to know, and Brett had just royally screwed that up.
Great.
As he told Nick the story, Brett alternated between drinking his coffee and nailing up the rest of the molding, hoping one of the two things would stop the weird twitchiness going on in his gut. Neither did, and all the while Nick just stood there, eating his sandwich and shaking his head.
“So she invited you in for dinner? Ellie?”
“No, her mom did. If Ellie had answered the door, I never would have made it past the porch.”
“That’s true. So you just stayed?”
“Well, yeah—it was one of those things, you know? Ellie didn’t want me there, and I sure as hell didn’t go there expecting to be invited in, but her mom’s one of those people who doesn’t really give you a choice.”
“And now you’re going to help Ellie through the course to get her license back.”
Brett shook his head over his coffee. “I’m not helping her through anything. She has to take the course if she wants her license back, and I’m the only instructor in town.”
“Huh.” Nick grunted as he tossed his sandwich container back in the cooler. “I bet she’s thrilled about that.”
“Yeah, thrilled.” He lifted the finishing gun and shot the final nail in crooked.
“I’ll fix it.” And just like that Nick had the wonky nail out and shot in a replacement, neat and straight. “You okay with her being in your class?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged when Nick looked doubtful. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know—you just got this weird look when you started talking about it. Like you’re nervous or something.”
“I’m not nervous.”
“You sure? She’s not exactly your number one fan, and that could make things a little—”
“I put in for a transfer.” This probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but at least it got them off the topic of Ellie, which, truth be told, did make him a little nervous, and not because he thought she was going to cause trouble in class.