If she even came to class.
“That’s great! Any intel I can pass along to you-know-who? She’ll bug the crap out of me, you know.”
“I met her through friends last weekend. I don’t even know if anything will come of it.” That was also the truth.
Technically.
It didn’t escape him that “met through mutual friends” was also a phrase the Suncoast Society group had told him they used a lot when introducing their kinky friends to vanilla friends and family. “Met through mutual friends” could cover a lot of ground without forcing anyone to outright lie or triggering most people to dig deeper for details.
“Well, I’m sure she’ll give you a pass on dinner then. Just don’t be surprised if she calls you and bugs you to bring your friend over to meet us.”
Melody meant well. She and Ella had gotten along like a house on fire, close friends from when Craig, who’d been three years older than Ella, had brought her home while in college to meet their family.
Bill still felt convinced the death of their daughter at such a young age had contributed to the deaths of Ella’s parents. Her father died of a heart attack two years later, her mother nine months after that. Bill suspected her mother had died more of a broken heart than the nebulous “heart failure” listed on her death certificate.
It had hit him as hard as it had Craig, considering he’d lost his own parents years earlier and they’d been like parents to him.
“Please tell her I appreciate the invite, and if anything develops, I’ll be sure to let you guys know.”
“Yeah, well, I guess she’ll have to be happy with that.” Craig laughed. “A couple moved in next door last week. There’s a few eligible women in their family in your age range, apparently.”
Bill couldn’t help but smile. “How long did it take Mel to suss that out?”
“About five minutes, I think. Maybe less. You know her.”
“Yes, I do. And again, tell her thank you for thinking of me.”
Craig’s tone softened. “Eh, you really doing okay, man?”
“Yeah.” They actually lived over an hour south, down in Naples. He’d fibbed to them a few times and gently refused holiday invites over the past couple of years. It always caused a painfully deep ache in his soul afterward, the holiday gatherings did, that other get-togethers didn’t create.
Besides, he always had the Marellis.
By Friday afternoon, Bill was wondering if maybe going to the class was such a great idea. When he found himself back in west county late that afternoon, he stopped by the dive shop. Rob and Laura were both there, the baby asleep in her portable crib set up in the office. Closed in there with the couple, he decided to admit his reservations.
“Maybe this isn’t the best idea,” he said. “Me going to class tomorrow.”
“Are you worried about someone outing you?” Rob asked. “We’ve been going there for a couple of years, even ran into people we know a couple of times, and we’ve never had a problem.”
Bill sat back in his chair. “Sort of. I don’t know.”
Laura smiled. “Not sure you’re ready to jump back into the dating pool?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
She leaned over and hugged him. “Listen, you said it yourself, you’re tired of being alone. Love isn’t easy.” She glanced at Rob. “Believe me, if anyone knows that, we do. We had to go through it not once, but twice, if you think about it. The second time around, we still chose each other, even though I didn’t know who the hell I really was for a lot of the second time. Take a chance and go to the class. If you want, I can ask our sitter if they can take Molly sooner, and I’ll go to the class with you.”
He didn’t want to inconvenience them. “No, that’s okay. I guess I should just nut up and go through with it.” He looked at Rob. “Does it get any easier?”
The paramedic shrugged. “I’ll be honest, the first couple of times I went to events, I felt scared shitless.” He rested a hand on Laura’s shoulder. “Was it worth it? Absolutely.”
She snuggled against Rob’s side.
A sad pang squeezed Bill’s heart. His mind flashed back to his Ella, to nights snuggled on the couch with her while watching TV. To sweet times spent in bed together.
Standing vigil at her bedside, mentally begging her to open her eyes and look at him.
“Scared shitless.” He thought about the Ella he’d met at the munch, how something about her wouldn’t leave his mind. “That’s pretty accurate.”
He drove back to east county and was fortunate enough to snag his usual table at Marelli’s. With the place relatively busy, he knew the staff didn’t have time to socialize with him. After Dori quickly grabbed his order, setting down glasses of tea and water without even asking him what he wanted to drink, he settled in with his work phone to go through e-mails.
He never did this when with Ella. His Ella. They’d always sat and talked during meals. He missed that nearly as much as he missed the intimate contact. Not even sexual, just…being with someone.
With someone.
He missed not feeling like a fifth wheel when out with others.
He missed the life he’d had, the plans and dreams they’d made. They’d wanted children, but then the world imploded.
Now, he knew he didn’t want children at his age, even if the right woman miraculously came along. Ella had wanted children. He’d wanted them more because he wanted what she wanted, wanted to do anything and everything to make her happy. He knew he would have loved them every bit as much as she would have. She’d wanted to put off having them, and had actually started talking about trying to get pregnant before her gallbladder problem cropped up. And then…
All those talks fell by the wayside. Kids, with her, would have been great.
But without her…
No, he’d be better off with a cat. Life had soured him since losing her. Turned him bitter in some ways. Inflexible. He’d grown so comfortable with being alone that if someone was meant to be in his life, like Ella 2.0, they’d have to be able to love him and accept him the way he was, right now. Just like he would accept them.
He was too mature to play games. Too set in his ways to chase someone down. He wouldn’t tolerate passive-aggressive antics to try to elicit a reaction from him. They either took him as he was…or they didn’t.
He’d seen too many of his friends and coworkers divorce in the time since he’d lost his Ella. He wouldn’t set himself up for that, if he could avoid it. That meant not settling. That also meant not trying to be things he knew he wasn’t.
And it also meant the stars aligning, and whoever walked into his life not being a doormat who would do anything just to have a relationship. Tony and Rob had both given him that warning, about new sub “frenzy,” the buzz of new relationship energy switching off the main breaker in peoples’ brains and turning them utterly stupid.
He was a cop, used to keeping his cool. Ella 2.0 appealed to that in him. She didn’t seem overly eager to throw herself at him.
Caution like that was something he appreciated.
Now let’s see if she gives me a chance to see more of her.
Chapter Nine
Monday morning, Gabe went for an early-morning run and then stood under the shower, water as hot as she could stand it, letting it drum against her scalp and sting her flesh. Her dreams had been filled with all sorts of wild, crazy, and sexually explicit scenes starring Bill.
Of letting him tie her up and do things to her.
I really need to get laid.
Unfortunately, the vibrator in her suitcase couldn’t hold her as she drifted off to sleep at night, or have conversations with her. She could lie to herself all she wanted, say she didn’t need it, but something deep inside her soul craved and cried out for intimate human contact. Someone to snuggle with on the couch while watching TV. Someone to curl up with in bed while falling asleep.
Someone to touch her without recoiling from her physical and emotional scars.
Someone she could trust enough to let go to, to give her a break from her high-pressured life every once in a while without worrying her burdens were too much for them to bear.
Fat chance of that happening.
After she got dressed she sat on the bed and picked up Lil Lobo. He went with her when she had to leave home for more than a day. He’d become her security blanket, and she wasn’t too stupid to see that. He was the reminder that no one could take him away from her.
Unlike Bear…
She forced that thought from her mind. Maria’s voice had remained strangely silent that morning. Gabe didn’t want to do anything, think anything, that might awaken it.
Yes, she knew her life was of her own making from the first step she set outside Maria’s door after graduation. She was well aware of that. Aware that she’d spent her initial time away from Maria cocooning herself in armor-clad layers of emotional protection, not letting anyone close enough to hurt her again. The army had been a great help in that respect, rewarding tough personas, encouraging her to push herself as hard as she could. She even had plenty of acquaintances and got along fine with people she worked with. She simply chose not to give anyone a chance to disappoint her, hurt her, let her down. She didn’t expect anything from anyone.
Although she expected the world from herself.
She set the stuffed wolf on the bedside table after giving it a final pat on the head. Also a tangible reminder to her that her job was important. Saving lives was important. Saving children, especially. She didn’t want kids of her own, not when she saw what could happen to them.
Not when her own childhood had been so hellish.
The little amigurumis were important, too. Even if Gabe only made a positive impact in Rachel’s life with the little animals, that alone was worth it. Validation of her efforts.
A reason to continue.
She went out to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee, fighting the urge to log onto her work laptop. Instead, she focused on the growing army of amigurumis on the coffee table. If she kept it up at this rate, she could return to Miami with several dozens of them, meaning that many potential kids could have their days brightened, at least a little.
That’s important, too.
It helped her make up her mind. She turned the TV on and tuned it to the Weather Channel before settling in on the sofa and picking up her yarn and a crochet hook.
She’d finished twelve more of the animals by the time she called it a day at eleven o’clock that night. Smiling, she arranged them all on the coffee table, which was rapidly running out of room.
A little army of crocheted critters just waiting for their new homes.
With a pleased nod, she turned off the TV and headed for bed.
* * * *
Tuesday morning started much like Monday had. Dreams kept her tossing and turning all night long, so that when she finally gave in and climbed out of bed a few minutes before five that morning, she felt like she’d barely gotten any sleep.
Again she thought briefly about using the vibrator, then decided against it. She wasn’t a fan of masturbating in the morning. The problem with that being she frequently wasn’t feeling like doing it by the time she got to bed that night. Especially if the day had been filled with emotionally difficult work.
Like the Martinez case.
She threw on running clothes and headed out the door. Mentally, she chafed at being temporarily off the case. Tracking down the money man topped her list of priorities upon getting back to work. One way or another, she would figure it out, find the son of a bitch, and haul him in for justice. She suspected he’d been involved in another case she worked on two years before, with similar MOs, but no proof tying the two together. Martinez had apparently never met David Muniz, the defendant in that case who was now serving a life sentence without possibility of parole.
Nothing obvious tied the men together except for the way everything had been handled.
Muniz had refused to hand over the money man in that case, too. But she found it hard to believe a petty crook, who hadn’t even graduated high school and whose worst crime before that had been dealing in stolen property, could suddenly be kidnapping girls from various countries in the region, smuggling them into the US, and setting up an elaborate network to find johns and arrange deals.
It didn’t compute.
Whoever it was, they had a lot of money to buy the guy’s silence. The only differences in the cases were that Muniz hadn’t personally raped any of the girls, and they were all at least sixteen years old.
Not that those facts made the situation any less heinous. Gabe hadn’t successfully convinced Walker or anyone else that the cases were linked by the same backer. She also wondered if two other cases within the past ten years were also linked, but she hadn’t been involved in those. In both cases, the primary suspect had been killed in prison.
Considering that Muniz had endured three attempts on his life already, had been relegated permanently to isolation for his own protection, and yet he still refused to talk, she suspected he would never reveal his backer.
Martinez, however, was squirrelly enough that she might be able to shake a little information from him.
Unfortunately, that would have to wait until she was officially back on the job.
By the time she returned to the condo almost an hour later, she’d pushed herself nearly to the point of exhaustion. The hot water of the shower soothed her muscles and lulled her mind into a temporarily calm state.
Maybe Walker’s right. Maybe I do need the break, to gain a little perspective, if nothing else.
As she stepped out and toweled herself off, Maria’s voice tried to shrilly break through with claims of slacking off, dodging her responsibilities.
She shoved the voice into a mental closet and locked the door. Walker had ordered her to relax, so she would. It would only be a matter of time before Maria’s voice escaped and started chattering at her again, but Gabe would keep repeating to herself that she was following orders.
She headed into the kitchen to start the first pot of coffee of the day and add to the growing amigurumi army.
* * * *
Wednesday morning, Gabe had to go out to buy more yarn in a few colors she’d run out of. Especially the green she used for the alligators. They were always one of the most popular amigurumis, their cheerful, goofy smiles making kids happy. She also thought about taking a drive over to Siesta Key, to the famous beach there, and decided against it.
I’ve got plenty to do.
Walker called her that afternoon on her personal cell phone.
“So, how are you doing?”
“You tell me,” she said, propping the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she made the beginning loop for a new animal, a dog this time. “Aren’t you checking the alarm logs?”
He let out one of those sighs. “Gabe, I’m not checking up on you.”
“I thought you said you were.”
“I was busting your balls, geez. That’s why I’m calling you. To see how you’re doing.”
“You’ll be happy to know I did try Ballentine’s on Sunday night.”
“Oh? Good. How was it?”
“I had…a very good meal.”
“That’s it?”
“You want a written report on your desk about it?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
She mentally swore as she goofed up the starting stitches and had to rip them out and begin again. “Then what do you mean?”
“I’m concerned about you, all right?”
The tone in his voice caught her attention. She set down the hook and yarn and grabbed the phone again. “Why?”
“Because I consider you a friend in addition to a damn good employee, that’s why.”
He could have dropped his pants and mooned her and she wouldn’t have been more surprised. “Really?”
“Uh, yeah. I know you aren’t much into having friends, but that doe
sn’t mean people can’t consider you their friend, you know?”
She hadn’t really thought about it like that. “Oh.”
“Why do you think I keep inviting you over to our house, even though you turn me down every time? Why do you think I sent you to my personal condo? Get your head out of your ass and look around you for a change. Maybe people like you. Maybe people respect you. Sometimes you have to give a little in return to get more than you currently have.”
He hung up on her.
She stared at her phone, his words pounding through her brain. She didn’t have friends. Not really. Although, yeah, Walker would be someone, if pressed, she could label a “friend” and not just a coworker or acquaintance.
Am I really that much of a dumbass I can’t recognize when I have friends? Or am I just truly that broken?
She tended toward the second.
Setting her phone on the table, she picked up her yarn and hook, consulted the pattern, and started over again.
* * * *
Walker hadn’t checked in with her again by Saturday morning. Gabe changed her mind countless times about going to the class until his words rang through her brain again.
Sometimes you have to give a little.
No one knew her here. What would it hurt? It would get her out of the condo for a few hours. She could stop somewhere to have dinner.
She would broaden her horizons, as they said.
If nothing else, it would allow her to picture some things more clearly when she got back to reading her Kindle. Which she’d done precious little of due to the amigurumis.
She pulled up the website again and studied the class description. Something she’d done several times over the space of the last few days.
What if Bill doesn’t show up?
He doesn’t owe me anything. We just met.
I would deserve it if he ditched the class.
Broken Toy Page 7