“So why the hell did you bring him in?” Adams snapped. Obviously, he hadn’t heard the whole story.
Quarles, his green eyes bright with anger, looked at Brit as if to see if he wanted to take a stab at the question. Brit shrugged, and his partner took the lead. “Well, let’s see. Maybe at this precinct you let assholes shoot at your men, but where I came from, we are accustomed to dragging their asses in and locking them up until we find out why they chose to fucking try to kill us.”
Adams’ nostrils flared, giving him a cartoonish appearance. “I didn’t know shots were fired.”
“You could have asked or read the report before jumping up our asses,” Quarles snapped back.
Even running on weak fumes, Brit could see this wasn’t going to end well if someone didn’t intervene. So he intervened. Or, he did the next best thing. He took the focus off his partner and brought it down on himself. He and Adams had a history; they knew how to fight fair.
Brit got to his feet. Sometimes the best way to show a smart man he was being an idiot was to become a bigger idiot yourself. “I tell you what, sir. I’m going to go in there and beat the crap out of that guy, and I’ll bet he’ll tell us what we want to know.”
Adams shoved a chair closer to the table, its legs scraping on the tile floor like chalk on a blackboard. “Go home. Both of you look like the walking dead, but when Garland wakes up, I want someone over there to find out what he knows.”
Brit opened the door and motioned for Quarles. His partner snatched up the file and stormed out of the room. Obviously driven by anger, Quarles didn’t stop until he stood in the parking lot. He cut Brit a sharp glare. “Adams is a fucking ass.”
“He can be,” Brit said, feeling that persistent tightness pulling at his shoulders. “But there are worse assholes.” Brit pressed a hand on Quarles’ back. “Come on, I’ll take you back to your ride.”
A few minutes later, they pulled up at the hospital beside Quarles’ truck. Quarles turned. “Are you headed home?”
Nodding, Brit thought about Cali. “Yeah.”
“Tell Susan I’ll call her later,” Quarles said. “What time does her plane take off this afternoon?”
Brit blew out a deep breath. “I don’t remember the exact time.” In truth, he hadn’t remembered period. But hell, he’d pretty much been an ass to his sister this trip. He was going to have to do some major sucking up later on.
Quarles put one foot out the door, then looked back. “We worked good together today. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Brit said and meant it. He didn’t want to mean it, hadn’t wanted to start replacing Keith, but it was happening.
Quarles shifted, but didn’t leave. “I know how you feel.”
“Feel about what?” Brit blinked the grit from his eyes.
“About Keith. I lost my partner last year. He was working security part time for a grocery store. The bank inside got held up. It’s part of the reason I transferred down here.”
Brit stared at Quarles. Now he understood why the man had taken so much shit from him these last three weeks. “Sorry.”
“Yeah,” Quarles said. “So am I. Sorry about Keith.”
Brit leaned back. “Did you catch the bastard who shot him?”
Quarles’ smile sounded in his voice. “His trial is next month. They’re asking for the death penalty.”
“Good,” Brit said.
“We’ll get Keith’s killer, too.” Quarles sent him a nod.
“Yeah.”
Brit watched the man get in his car. Leaning back, Brit closed his eyes as his mind juggled the issues weighing on his chest.
Keith—finding the sorry son of a bitch that took him out. Laura—Keith’s wife—whom Brit hadn’t spoken to since the funeral.
Thoughts of Cali sifted through the worry funnel and landed with a thud on his chest. What kind of reception would he get when he got home? Hell, would she even talk to him?
He drew in a pound of oxygen and let it out slowly. When he reached for his keys, his cell phone rang. Too tired to think straight, he snagged it from his pocket and answered it before checking the number.
“Yeah.”
“Detective?” the male voice asked.
“Yeah?” he repeated while his frazzled mind, almost too tired to work, attempted to put a name to the voice.
“It’s Bradley Faith, from the hotel. I got beat up last night.”
Brit ran a hand over his face. “What’s up?”
“Well, I found something that the jerk left here. It concerns the girl, so I thought you might want to know about it.”
~
Cali stepped up to the apartment door and knocked. She knew she was going to wake Tanya. If Eric was with her and Cali interrupted their “morning after”, she was going to cry.
Actually, she was pretty sure she was going to cry anyway.
She heard footsteps then saw the peephole go dark. The door opened. Tanya wore a pair of green panda-bear pajamas. “Cali?”
Her friend’s non-sexy attire gave Cali hope that Tanya was alone. “Please tell me you don’t have Eric in the bed with you.”
“No. We just had dinner. No hanky panky. Come in.” She threw open the door.
“I was just going to get my car and find a hotel, but I think my keys fell out of my purse at Brit’s.” Cali’s heart ached.
A cold wind tousled Tanya’s hair, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Something bad happened, didn’t it?”
Cali hesitated. “Sort of.”
“What happened?” Tanya stepped back into her apartment.
“I don’t know where to start.” Cali bit down on her lip as her sinuses started to sting.
Tanya’s eyes tightened in sympathy. “Come on, I’ll fix us some hazelnut coffee. There’s nothing flavored coffee can’t cure. It’s right up there with chocolate.”
“Make it a big pot.” When Cali got to the kitchen, she spotted the phone. “Before I weep, or OD on caffeine, can I make a call?”
“Yeah.” Tanya went to the cabinet and got the coffee.
Opening her purse, Cali found Brit’s card and saw he’d written his home and cell phone. Susan answered on the second ring. “Hi. This is Cali. Is Brit home?”
“Hey,” Susan said. “I saw the taxi and tried to catch you.”
“I’m sorry. I just had to...to get out for a while.” Cali didn’t know what else to say. After insisting she wasn’t dating Brit and then having Susan discover them in bed, Cali knew Susan probably considered her a real loony-toon. “I didn’t want Brit to worry. I’m at a friend’s. I’m safe, and I’m going to stay here for a while. Can you tell Brit I’ll call him later?”
“Sure,” Susan said. “But why don’t you try his cell number?”
Cali considered it. “I don’t want to disturb him at work. Can you just leave him a message?”
“Sure.” Susan hesitated. “Is everything okay?”
“Fine. Except, I think my keys may have spilled out of my purse on Brit’s front lawn. Can you check? I’ll come by later.”
“Okay.” Susan paused. “He’s really a good guy.”
“I know.” When Cali hung up, she leaned against the wall and tears filled her eyes. She swallowed and looked at her feet. Painted toenails make you happy. She recalled her mother saying. She kicked off her shoes. “Do you have some nail polish?”
Chapter Thirty
The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled Brit’s nose as he unlocked his front door. Hedropped his keys on the table as he walked inside. He heard someone in his kitchen and prepared himself to eat crow, beak and all.
As he stepped inside the room, he saw his sister. Susan turned around, holding a box of cereal. His gaze cut around the room. Cali must still be asleep. Good. He’d only have to eat one bird at a time when he apologized to them separately—his sister for ignoring her and Cali for doubting her about talking to Stan.
He touched his pocket where he’d tucked the computer printout of Cali’s
MasterCard bill. Somehow, Humphrey had gotten her computer password and printed out the paperwork that showed Cali had charged a room. When Stan had been tossing the clerk around to get the key, the paper must have slipped from the idiot’s pocket. The desk clerk had found it after they’d left.
“Hey.” Brit removed his windbreaker and pulled out a chair.
Susan looked him up and down, her sisterly gaze checking him over with protectiveness. “You’re going to kill yourself. You can’t keep going like this without sleep.”
He pushed a hand through his hair. “I’m too mean to die.” Brit noticed the laundry room door standing open. “Are the cats okay?”
“Fine. The mama still won’t come out. But the kittens peeked out a couple of times.
You want some cereal?”
“Sure.” He glanced back down the hall toward his bedroom. He watched Susan place a ceramic bowl in front of him, then turn to get a spoon. “What time does your plane leave?” He leaned his chair back on two legs.
She turned around, spoon in hand, surprise widening her blue-green eyes. “You remembered?”
He shrugged, not wanting to admit he hadn’t, but willing to admit his bigger mistake. “I’ve been a piss-poor host.”
“Yeah, you have.” She dropped the spoon in his bowl and rested her hand on his shoulder. “But I understand.” She ruffled his hair the way she used to do when he was a kid. “I need to be at the airport at five. However, I have to drop off the car at the rental place. It’s right by the airport and they offer a shuttle service.”
Brit watched his sister sit down across from him, peel a banana, and slice it into her bowl. “I’ll follow you and drop you off. It’s the least I can do.”
She looked up and offered him a smile and half of her banana.
“No, thanks.” He stood, even though every muscle in his body begged him not to, grabbed a cup and helped himself to coffee. “I’m sorry I had to skip out on Mom’s party.”
“At least you showed up. I didn’t think you would.” She poured him a bowl of dry sounding flakes. “It meant the world to Mom that you came.”
Do I remind you of your mom? He recalled Cali asking him.
He didn’t want to discuss his mother. He settled back into his chair. A meow called from the door. Brit turned and Mama Cat was sitting on the threshold. Slowly, she edged out, until she stood beside his leg. Dipping her head down, she rubbed her face on his ankle.
“Look at that,” Susan said. “I’ve tried food, sweet talk. But no, I’m not good enough. You just like men, huh? Slut,” Susan said, pointing at the cat with her spoon.
“It’s just because I’ve been feeding her,” he said as his sister turned back to her cereal bowl. “What happened to donuts for breakfast?”
“Got to keep my girly figure.” She smiled at the cat. “Guess I like men, too.” She poured blue-looking skim milk into his bowl of flakes. “Five more pounds and I’m at goal weight.”
“You were fine the way you were.” The cat gave his leg another tap before disappearing back into the laundry room.
“I was fat the way I was,” she said. “But, thank you.”
“I’m really sorry for not being here this time. Between Keith’s case and Cali’s, I’ve been running in tight circles.”
“I like her.” Susan spooned a bite of banana and cereal into her mouth. The crunch filled the silence.
“Me, too.” For the life of him, he didn’t know where the relationship was going. Until Cali, the idea of a real relationship would have sent him running for cover. But now, he was still scared, but not so ready to run.
“Has Cali gotten up yet?” He deposited a bite of cardboard flakes floating in watered-down milk into his mouth.
Susan’s eyes widened. “She didn’t call you?”
“Call me?” He swallowed the bad feeling along with this sorry excuse for a breakfast.
“Yeah. She left first thing this morning.”
“Shit!” He sprang to his feet so fast he hit the table. The milk in his bowl sloshed over the edge. “You let her go?”
Susan dropped her spoon. “Let her? Oh, I didn’t know you were keeping her against her will. If you’d told me, I’d have handcuffed her to a doorknob.”
“I didn’t…” Tension curled up in his body.
“She called.” Susan took her spoon for a lap around her bowl. “She said she was with a friend. Said she planned to stay there.”
“Did she say it was Tanya?”
“She didn’t give a name.” Susan stood and grabbed a dish towel.
Brit grabbed his phone and started hitting buttons to find Tanya’s number.
“I don’t think she wants to talk to you.” She wiped his mess from the table.
He looked up. “She said that?”
“Not in so many words, but she apologized for skipping out and said she just needed to get away. Then she said she would call you later. And the way she said it sort of implied for you not to call her.”
He popped his phone closed. “Did she mention that her ex-boyfriend is a murderer and now he’s after her?”
“She told me some of it.” Susan dropped the towel in the sink. “But she also said she was safe. Do you think the boyfriend could find her at this friend’s place?”
He hadn’t thought it the other day, but right now, thinking took energy he didn’t have. He wanted Cali here. He needed her here. Pocketing his phone, he turned to leave.
“Brit?” Susan’s tone gave him pause, and he faced her.
“What?” he asked, annoyed and not hiding it.
“If she isn’t in any danger, maybe you should give her some space. She sounded, I don’t know, upset or something.”
“Well, then I’d best go and resolve things.”
“When a woman wants time to think, it’s best to leave her be. Let her call you when she’s ready.”
“I know you just want to help, but don’t. Butt out!” He started for the door.
Of course, Susan followed him. His sister never backed down from a fight. “Take a nap first. If you go there now you might make things worse.”
He couldn’t take a friggin’ nap. He needed Cali to sleep.
Susan stepped in front of him. “Get some rest. You’re grumpy, you’re tired, and you’re bound to mess something up when you talk to her.”
“Mess things up like Dad always messed up?” he asked, suddenly remembering Cali asking him some hard questions.
“I didn’t say that,” she snapped. “Good God, Brit! You’re nothing like him.”
“Then why did you talk to Cali about Mom?”
“I didn’t. I just said that you grew up wanting to protect women.”
He shook his head. “Look, Sis. I don’t like knowing that my partner is the guy trying to get in your pants. But I’m not butting into your love life, so get out of mine.”
Her chin snapped up. “Really? And what do you call threatening to shoot John?”
So Quarles had told his sister that, huh? “That wasn’t butting in, that was just me telling a guy what will happen if he starts dicking with my sister.”
She almost smiled. “But maybe I want some—”
“Just stop right there. I don’t want to hear it.”
Susan’s eyebrows suddenly arched. “This thing between you and Cali, it’s serious, isn’t it?”
He snatched his keys from the end table. “I don’t know. But I won’t find out if I don’t bring her back here.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Cali sat in Tanya’s kitchen. “And then I don’t know why, but I grabbed his toothbrush to fish out the condoms.”
Tanya held her stomach because she was laughing so hard and, for some reason, so was Cali. It felt good to laugh, almost as releasing as a good cry.
“So did you ever tell him about the condoms?”
“No. I just hid them in the bottom of his cabinet.”
Tanya’s doorbell rang and was followed by a loud whacking knock. “Ten to one, tha
t’s Mr. Little Dickhead,” Tanya said. “Probably wanting to know what you did with his condoms.”
“Oh, shit!” Cali said.
“Did I hear you right?” Tanya snickered. “Did you actually say a naughty word?”
Cali frowned. “Yeah, I guess this Charmin-faced girl has been hanging around the wrong people lately.”
“Is he so wrong?”
“I was talking about you.” The doorbell rang again.
Tanya laughed again. “What do you want me to do?”
Cali pulled her knees up to her chest. Her toenails, freshly painted with two coats since she’d arrived at Tanya’s, stood out like beacons in red. She moaned. She didn’t know what she wanted.
Talking to Tanya had taken the edge off Cali’s panic, or maybe it was the toenail painting. Either way, she’d even told Tanya about the dreams. Her friend had basically agreed with Dr. Roberts—the dreams were just Cali’s mind dealing with the stress and grief. But what did Cali believe?
Great. She didn’t know what she wanted, or what she believed. She was just one indecisive chick, with some really bright red toenails.
The doorbell rang again. Cali hugged her knees.
“It’s your call,” Tanya said. “I can tell him to go float his boat down a different stream, and we can paint your toenails again, or I can ask him in, and give you two some space.”
The knock came harder. “I don’t think I should stay with him anymore.”
“Then I’ll tell him.” Tanya started to get up.
“No,” Cali said. “I’d better tell him myself.” Barefoot, toenail polish still gluey, she duck-walked out of the kitchen.
“Okay,” Tanya said. “But stick to your guns, be strong.”
Guns ready, and trying to keep her toes apart, Cali moved to the door. She pressed her eye to the peephole, just to make sure it was Brit. The last thing she wanted was to confront Stan. And if he’d found her at the hotel, maybe he could find her here.
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