The Heat of Angels

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The Heat of Angels Page 6

by Lisa Girolami


  Chris drummed her pen against the vent even harder, and Abel whined from the backseat.

  That’s what made it so strange. Part of her slogged through a mammoth-sized slurry of disappointment, and the other danced barefoot in the cool grass of a delightful memory.

  Sarah’s body had been amazingly responsive and so incredibly sexy that once they began kissing in the hallway, Chris had completely lost all sense of correctness and restraint.

  The tennis match in her head, of happiness lobbing the ball over to guilt and then guilt returning it with an overhead slam, made it almost impossible to concentrate on her job.

  Her radio crackled and a flurry of urgent orders came. Two fellow officers were fighting with a subject on Curson Street, north of Santa Monica Boulevard. They called for K9 backup. She threw her car in gear and flipped on her lights and siren.

  Chris pulled up to the sidewalk, tires screeching as she unbuckled the seatbelt before her squad car came to a complete stop. Abel knew what the sound of the siren meant, and as soon as she’d switched it on, his excited bark rose in pitch, like he was frantic to jump into action.

  Officer Cates and a rookie officer named Perkins were on the sidewalk fighting with a Caucasian man. He was at least six feet tall, about two hundred and fifty pounds, and not eager to surrender. The man was on the ground and the rookie was on top of his legs. Cates was on his chest, screaming at him to comply with their orders, but the man’s flailing and ranting made it apparent that he was probably as high as a kite and wouldn’t stop.

  Chris opened the back door, grabbed Abel, and quickly latched a leash onto his vest. When she rounded the squad car and got to the sidewalk, she yelled, “Cates, back off!”

  Cates and Perkins untangled themselves from the man, who was now shouting a string of half-intelligible curse words and still throwing punches at the officers. They were all on their feet and the officers pulled back, guns drawn.

  “Stop fighting,” Chris screamed. “Get your hands where I can see them!”

  He refused and took a step toward her. As he did, Chris released Abel, who bolted like a rocket. In less than a second and a half, he launched upward and took hold of the man’s upper arm. The man howled and spun around, but Abel held on like a vise grip cranked all the way up.

  The man, now unconcerned with the officers, punched Abel in the head. Chris and her partners grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. The man struggled, but Abel’s well-planted teeth were taking a lot of the fight out of him. Abel continued to hold on while Chris and her partners wrestled his arms behind him and finally cuffed him.

  She pulled Abel off, which was always a difficult task, given his drive and fixation. With the man now immobilized on his belly, Cates and Perkins stepped backward, both bending over to let their lungs calm down.

  The man was now fairly lucid in his ranting. He wanted to kill the dog and kill all three officers. He demanded they remove the cuffs and reiterated his desire to kill them all.

  Ignoring him, Chris raised her voice over Abel’s barking and said, “Cates, you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He stood up straight, still panting hard, “Perkins, you okay?”

  As Perkins straightened up, Chris saw a Cheshire-cat grin spread across his face.

  “You didn’t have to use the dog. I could have eventually gotten the asshole. I was ready to smash the guy in the face. It would have been fun.”

  “Fun?” Chris had heard that Perkins was a bit of a loose cannon, and that kind of comment was upsetting.

  “I wanted to hear the crack of his cheekbones when I pummeled him. Instead, your dog got all the action.”

  Chris took a step toward Perkins. “That’s what we’re here for, so you don’t get hurt and so you don’t get written up for brutality, you turd.”

  “I can handle myself, Bergstrom.”

  Chris took another step toward him and Cates quickly moved between them.

  “Thanks, Chris.” He then mouthed to her, “I’ll talk to him.”

  Abel had grown even more agitated at Perkins, who was obviously showing aggression toward Chris. His snarling turned into frenzied, salivating barks.

  Cates told her he would handle the injured man and radioed dispatch, so Chris walked Abel down the street a ways to calm him down. She checked his body and head, running her hands over his neck, legs and chest, to make sure he hadn’t sustained any injuries. When he didn’t flinch, she took a deep breath in relief.

  “Good boy,” she said as she rubbed his coat, doubtful Cates could tone down the testosterone that circulated through Perkins’s rookie head. Another wave of relief came over her. She hadn’t faltered during the last confrontation, and the incident with the suspect had been serious enough to make her push thoughts of Sarah aside and focus.

  Crap, she thought. Now Sarah was back again, invading her thoughts. Worse than those kitschy songs whose chorus would sometimes replay in her head, Sarah was a symphony orchestra belting out loudly.

  “I’ll follow you to Hollywood Community Hospital,” Chris told Cates.

  She had to stay with the suspect until the doctor treated his bites and she could photograph his injuries for her report. Unsurprisingly, they would have a long wait in the emergency room, and Chris settled in to the knowledge that visions of Sarah would continue to invade her thoughts and rattle her body.

  *

  Monday afternoon came a little too quickly for Sarah. She’d slept in after Chris left and then lay in bed thinking about her for over an hour. If all the qualities Sarah had wanted were written down on a piece of paper, they would be on the personalized stationery of Chris Bergstrom.

  Sarah hugged the pillow Chris had laid her head upon, remembering how amazing she’d been. She was beautiful and sexy and very funny. Her confident manner made her even more appealing. She was established in a great career and had a lot going for her. But more than that was the unexplainable chemistry between them that fizzed and effervesced. It had been immediate, drawing them together as effortlessly as a snowflake upon a child’s nose.

  Reluctantly, Sarah got out of bed and showered. She needed to hurry and dress if she was going to make it to lunch on time. Man, did she have something new to talk about.

  She made it to Hamburger Mary’s and found her friend Natalie sitting by one of the windows, away from the stage. That was a good thing, because the drag show was about to start and she wanted to be able to talk.

  “Hey,” Nat said as she sat down.

  “Hey yourself. What’s been goin’ on with you?”

  “I’ve been busy at the restaurant. Business is doing really well so I’m super busy with paperwork and ordering.”

  The waiter came over fairly quickly, which was also good because the place was filling up with people coming to watch the show, and the service would soon become slow. As soon as they ordered, a drag queen took the stage and announced, “Okay, you sloths, get your dollars out because this shit’s starting.”

  A disco song came on and the MC started lip-synching to Donna Summers.

  “What’s up with you?” Natalie raised her voice over the noise.

  “Same old, same old, except I met someone.”

  “You did? Who?”

  “A cop named Chris.”

  “Were you speeding again?”

  “Actually, I was shopping at Whole Foods.”

  “Have you gone out yet?”

  “Last night. She came over for dinner.”

  “And she left after breakfast?”

  “Not exactly. She left a little after midnight.”

  “How was it?”

  Sarah couldn’t help but smile. “It was really nice. She’s funny and sexy and gets my jokes.”

  “She could be a keeper. Especially if she gets you out of tickets.”

  Their drinks arrived just as a drag queen, Sarah Jessica Parker’s long-lost twin, took the stage. She must have been a favorite because the crowd began chanting, “Let your freak flag fly!”

  “W
hat the hell?” Sarah said.

  “It’s from Sex in the City. Haven’t you watched it?”

  “No. I’d rather read a good book.”

  “Speaking of books, how’s the archeology course going?”

  “Oh, I dropped that. It sounded great but I didn’t like the class.” She took a sip of her margarita. “I just can’t find anything that holds my interest.”

  “You seemed to stay with the real-estate thing for a while. What happened there?”

  “I could walk through houses all day long because I love the different styles and personalities, but my mom was pushing me so hard to hurry up and get licensed that I really started resenting the pressure. I’m thirty-five years old and she’s still telling me what to do and how to do it.”

  “That sucks.”

  A shrill voice screamed into the microphone, “Damn, it’s hot here in L.A. I just saw two trees fighting over a dog, so enjoy the air-conditioning, little darlings. And remember, we’re not giving you all this glitz and glam and fabulousness for nothing. Give a bitch a dollar!”

  The current drag queen was walking around the tables, bending over to allow patrons to shove bills into her cleavage.

  “Now, that’s not a bad gig,” Nat said.

  “If I had that much hair spray on my head,” Sarah said, “I’d go up in flames at the nearest candle.”

  But she really admired those performers. They bucked convention and not only knew what they wanted, but were courageous enough to weather the conservative storm of right-wingers and gay bashers. Those drag queens were ballsy.

  “So, are you going out with Chris again?”

  “I sure hope so.”

  “I’ve known you a long time, Sarah, and I’m telling you this out of love. Just relax and enjoy her, okay?”

  Sarah nodded, but her insecurities told her that was easier said than done.

  *

  The calls had died down quite a bit. It was that weird space of time when even criminals got hungry and sought out a meal.

  Chris was back at the station’s parking lot, ready to go in and get some paperwork done. Abel was lying down in the back, not relaxing, because he was more than alert as long as he was working. He rested with his eyes open and let out an occasional breathy woof.

  Chris flipped the cell phone over and over in her hand, contemplating a call to Sarah. Earlier that morning, her first inclination was not to call her. Ever. She’d made a rash decision and had no idea how to handle it.

  What do you say to someone whom you’ve had sex with but barely know?

  She knew what Paige would say. “Chill out, Chris. It’s only sex.”

  But if sex was so simple and easy, what was precious and worth waiting for?

  Still, she couldn’t get Sarah off her mind. If they hadn’t gone as far as they did, she would have called her hours ago to say hi and to ask her out on another date. But now, what was standard protocol?

  More than once, Chris had picked her phone up only to drop it back on the car seat again. What if she never called her? Would Sarah eventually make the call? And what the hell would they talk about? The extremes were easy. A john would tell a hooker, “That was great, here’s a little extra cash as a tip.” And people in serious relationships would purr their affections and tell each other how much they loved each other.

  Chris and Sarah’s night together didn’t apply to either. But nothing was as hot as the night they’d spent together. Even the wildfires raging around them couldn’t generate that much heat.

  Damn it, she really liked her. Was there any way to go backward? Was it possible to pretend the sex hadn’t happened, progress to date number two, and behave in a more traditional manner?

  Yeah, she thought. That was as easy as unelectrocuting a serial killer.

  So now what? It had to be dealt with in one way or another. Should she wait until Sarah called and then act cool, like it was no big thing? Or should she call Sarah and explain the funnel cloud of turmoil that was spinning her up like Dorothy’s pigtails?

  Both sounded pathetic.

  But maybe Sarah was feeling the same thing. They could talk about it and agree to reel it in a bit.

  Chris tried to ignore the niggling realization at the back of her head that her body could now easily override her mind. Sarah’s sensual mouth and arms and legs had driven Chris to nearly burst at the seams. And as much as she wished she could deny it, Sarah left her physically satisfied and unbelievably astonished.

  The thoughts that spun around her began to fill the squad car, and she suddenly felt claustrophobic. She got out, leaving the car and air-conditioning running for Abel, locked it, and headed toward the station.

  She got a few feet from the back door and looked down at her hand. Exasperated, she realized that a person with OCD wouldn’t flick a light switch as nervously as she was flipping her phone.

  “Shit,” she said, and finally dialed.

  “Hello?” Sarah’s voice sounded wonderful.

  “Hi, it’s Chris.”

  “I figured that. I hear jail keys jingling in the background.”

  “You do?”

  Sarah laughed. “I’m kidding.”

  “Oh.” Now what? “How are you?”

  “I’m great. I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”

  If it were half as much thought power as Chris had expended, she’d still be drained. “Thinking what?”

  “About us. Last night.”

  Please say that you had second thoughts about last night. “Yeah?”

  “Uh-huh. Chris, I…we…us being together…”

  Chris exhaled loudly. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “It was incredible, wasn’t it? It was so sexy and spontaneous. I really loved it.”

  She wasn’t thinking the same thing. Oh shit. “Yeah…?”

  “Are you being coy now? I wouldn’t expect that from a Los Angeles police officer.”

  The station door opened, smacking into Chris. Cates poked his head around from the other side and mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “No, it’s just that, ah…I’m brain-dead today.”

  “You’d be right about that,” Cates said as he stepped out.

  Chris punched him in the arm and he feigned a grimace before plopping his shoulder bag down on the sidewalk to rummage through it. Chris stepped away as Sarah said, “I’ll apologize for that, but nothing else.”

  After an empty moment that Chris couldn’t find words to fill, Sarah said, “Would you like to come see the wildlife refuge?”

  “Yes,” Chris said, knowing she shouldn’t be relieved about the change in topic because the matter would continue to haunt her well through the night. “I’d like that.”

  “When are you off next?”

  “Tomorrow, actually.”

  “Is it a date, then?”

  Yeah, Chris thought, it could be a date, specifically date number two. The way a second date should be. She could handle being around Sarah without her pants heating up to a critical flashpoint. “Yes, it’s a date.”

  Sarah sighed, and her sexy tone pierced Chris’s ear and ricocheted through her gut and exploded between her legs.

  As Sarah gave her the address, Chris wondered if a car thief in an auto museum would have a tougher time with willpower.

  She’d barely hung up when Cates closed his bag and stood up. “A date? With who?”

  “A women I met recently. She works up at the Angeles Crest Wildlife Refuge. I’m getting a tour.”

  “I’ve been there. Great place. My kids love the chimpanzees. I think it’s because they’re closer relatives to my little boogers than I think.”

  Chris opened the door. “You outta here?”

  “Yeah. One chimp needs a ride to soccer practice and the other gets picked up at T-ball.”

  As the door swung closed she called out, “Don’t forget the bananas.”

  *

  Chris typed out a request for Paige to call her, but it was usually never as simple or direc
t as asking her outright. Instead she did what she usually did and sent one of a hundred ditties she’d heard at the station.

  A traffic cop pulled a man over for speeding. He walked up to the car and said, “I’ll have to report you, sir. You were doing eighty-five miles an hour.”

  “Nonsense, officer,” said the driver. “I’ve only been in the car for ten minutes.”

  She waited and then her phone rang. “What are you doin’?”

  “Nothing much. Avalon’s in New York meeting some producers.” It sounded like Paige was killing an ant with a hammer.

  “What the heck are you doing?”

  “Fixing my printer.”

  Chris shook her head as she finished pulling on her jeans. “Why didn’t you go with Avalon?”

  “I’ve got a few appointments. Plus, she’s only gone until tomorrow.” The pounding continued. “Wanna go shopping? There are a couple of places in Santa Monica I’d like to check out.”

  “I’m going to the wildlife refuge center to meet Sarah. She volunteers there.”

  “So, a second date? Hey, you haven’t told me about the first. Obviously, it went well.”

  It had and it hadn’t. What she’d expected had been blasted out of the water by the shark that had erupted between her thighs. “It did. I mean, it was different, but yeah, it was good.” The words came out slathered in hesitation.

  The pounding stopped. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “I know you didn’t eat paint chips as a kid. What was the dithering about?”

  “It was great, okay?” She put on her shirt and noticed it was on backward.

  “Not okay. Now you’re just blowing me off. What happened?”

  As she fixed the shirt, she thought a moment. Gravity seemed to disappear when Sarah was close by. A light, lifting feeling overpowered everything else. As wonderful as it felt, it was a new experience and had unnerved her.

  “She was wonderful. It’s just that things went a little too far.”

  “You slept together.”

  “Yes,” Chris said. “And I know what you’re going to say. ‘Relax, it’s just sex.’”

 

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