by Cass Sellars
Her Louboutins clicked loudly on the shiny marble-tiled floors. The heavy double doors of the conference room swung open just as they approached. A uniformed Dawn Turner exited the room, shaking hands as she went. Jayne thought the police garb was a mistake since, in her opinion, the board needed to see how she could assimilate to a corporate culture, not just coast on the legacy of a public sector job. She didn’t feel bad. Turner had no shot at the position anyway.
Jayne breezed into the room, smiling and shaking hands as the selection committee rose to greet her. “Gentlemen, thank you all so very much for meeting with me. I’ve heard such good things about each of you.”
She thought the committee members were suitably impressed when she returned their softball questions with aplomb and efficiency. After all, she had studied each question at length and had prepared her answers weeks ago, thanks to her mutually beneficial relationship with the outgoing executive.
The questioning quickly began to feel like a casual conversation with some familiar colleagues. She didn’t see the point in working too diligently to get a job she already had.
A scant forty-five minutes later, she stood to shake each man’s hand. She thought that the lack of women on their staff would also be an advantage for her. Women were often difficult to assess and were less easily managed.
She clicked back to the lobby and out to her city-owned vehicle, never thinking twice about using government resources for her personal business.
* * *
“Where the hell are you? I expected you an hour ago,” the CSO bellowed into his phone.
“So sorry, I didn’t realize I was punching a clock for you.” His son spat the words. “It’s not like I haven’t been working my ass off, you know.”
“And being paid very well, don’t forget,” he grumbled in response. “How many units are left at our disposal?”
“Three hundred and twenty, give or take a supplemental shipment I might be able to liberate by next week.” He sounded proud of his accomplishments.
“Don’t push it. We have to be careful. Another $180k would be nice gravy, but we’ll have plenty of time later.” He pushed back from his desk as he disconnected the call. He imagined what it would be like not having to share his take with anyone. He had always been averse to sharing.
His ex-wife was living on the Cape with her antiques dealer boyfriend in the house he had bought and paid for decades ago. She had soundly screwed him in the divorce. He pictured the bleached blonde that his wife had convinced to testify about their brief affair. He had reasoned that he deserved all the sex he could get since she certainly hadn’t been attending to his needs. Years after that failure, he had determined that money and sex were all any red-blooded American man needed, and he made sure he always had plenty of both.
If he ever again allowed another woman to share his home, he would make sure they left with nothing when he was through with them. He’d thought he was marrying for love all those years ago. She had expected him home for dinner and to assist with child-rearing instead of building his career and fortune. He had made the right choices in his professional life, and sadly, the wrong choices with women whom he regarded as opportunists poised to pick the flesh from his bones given their first opening. No, sharing was not appealing.
He walked to his AMG Mercedes. He had custom ordered the $150,000 car in a deep green, the color of money. At one p.m. his admin called his cell. He hit ignore before walking in to have his weekly manicure and massage. He was a busy man.
* * *
Major Williams sauntered up the walk leading to an impeccable colonial in the tony Fishers Gate neighborhood. Before he could reach for the doorbell, the large red door swung open and a well-dressed woman in her early sixties greeted him. She handed him a Jack Black on the rocks, shutting the door behind the senior law enforcement officer.
“Well, Damon, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company? It isn’t Wednesday and I assume my daughter hasn’t done anything else to disgrace this family.” Her expression was always pinched and artificial but he pretended not to notice.
“Not yet, Pamela, but give her some time.” He chuckled about the woman’s obsession with Sydney Hyatt’s every move in Silver Lake as he took his favorite seat in her stuffy living room. He was careful to sound sympathetic. “I’m certainly glad I never had any kids, seeing what you have had to go through. I know she was provided every opportunity, given your pedigree, Pamela. Still she acts so…classless.” Major Williams was raised in the worst part of town by two neglectful and abusive criminals; the term classless to describe anyone else was ludicrous and he knew it.
“Yes, it’s particularly trying when I’m attempting to do so much for the people of this city. I am constantly reminded of her notoriety through that little business of hers.” She sounded condescending as she referenced DRIFT. He wondered how everyone seemed to think Silver Lake was in existence simply because they were. He considered that the sour woman perched on the settee in front of him and his bossy chief should have been best friends but then decided their competing egos would have spelled disaster.
“It’s really too bad the city council won’t move her off the approved vendor list. Then I could at least pretend not to know who she is, and I would stop being worried about what she’s doing to embarrass me this week.” She pursed her lips and recounted the story of seeing her only child in the restroom with her mouth on another woman. She sounded horrified at the display of impertinence by the daughter she had raised. “She flaunts her sexuality in public. What would they have done in there if I hadn’t walked in? I think she’s intent on embarrassing me every chance she gets.”
“Well, your seat as chairperson of the Concerned Citizens’ Coalition should prove valuable, Pamela. Perhaps as your close relationships with the heads of key government sectors develop, it will help decrease her market share, so to speak.” He watched as she nodded enthusiastically.
“Ah, yes. The CCC certainly has increased my profile with local decision makers already.” She spoke formally. “Speaking of which, apparently our esteemed chief is looking to create a vacancy, Damon.” She delivered the statement as if she was innocent of any nonpublic knowledge and was simply discussing city gossip with an old friend.
He nodded and raised his glass as he shifted his gun belt and hoped Pamela couldn’t see it cutting into his bulging belly. Rather, Pamela Hyatt seemed to be relishing the thought of her increased influence in Silver Lake because of his potential promotion. All from a cushy chair in her living room. He had other plans, but if she thought that her relationship with him would help her run for city council as well as her campaign to keep her dyke daughter out of the news, he would be happy to let it endure.
“I just happen to be meeting with Chairman Franks for breakfast at the President’s Club next week, and I’m sure he would love to hear my recommendations for the next appointment to the chief’s office. I believe he very much values my opinion, Damon.”
“As do I, Pamela.” His conciliatory tone was almost as insulting as the condescending one she bestowed upon him. Theirs was an alliance of reluctant convenience, mutual benefit, and mild disdain.
“I’m sure you do, Damon. Would you like another drink?”
“Please.” She moved to the bar to refill the glass.
“Just so you know, Pamela, I’m old-school. I find this entire open acceptance of homosexuality just as disgusting as you do. Being in law enforcement, I’m forced to deal with it, like you have been.” He knew his words would cement the affinity between them. “It’s a blight on the department and this city. I’ve tried not to let it affect my job but the politically correct bullshit is getting on my nerves. When I am chief, this department will stop being a dyke farm.”
“From your lips to God’s ears, Damon.” She seemed to brighten with a fresh charge of energy.
He leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle. “Is there anything else I can do for you while I’m here, Pamela?”
; She looked mildly repulsed at his inference, but stood to lead him down the hall. The SLPD watch commander turned off his radio as he began unbuttoning his shirt. Pamela shut the bathroom door as she traded her expensive suit for a silk robe and walked back to the bedroom.
Chapter Ten
Parker kicked off her shoes in the loft she had barely finished renovating in January. She carried her heels up the black metal stairs to the bedroom she had come to love but rarely spent much time in, now that she slept across the hall every night. She was happy to stay at Sydney’s as it was bigger and the hub of her business. She mused that Mia would do well in her carefully decorated space, not to mention that she would be close to friendly faces if and when she needed them.
Parker’s long day had ended with a screaming match between client and contractor in an office building her property-development company was managing. After standing between the two grown men in a ten-million dollar development, she’d actually had to duck when the contractor threw a roll of plans at the client and told him to go get his contractor’s license since he certainly wasn’t finishing the job for the conceited bastard.
She repeatedly shook her head at the behavior of two adults who regularly fought like children and then shared a beer at the corner bar after it was over. The only person with a shorter life and higher blood pressure as a result of the argument was Parker. She slid off her jacket and draped it over the chair against the wrought-iron loft rails.
She threw herself down onto the platform bed and stared at the seed glass light fixture above it. She had taken forever to decide on the decor but had finally gotten used to the rough floors in the funky space and had chosen a soft green paint to complement the bathroom tile her friend Allen had selected for her. A glint of metal caught her eye as the air conditioning blew a long silver object in a circle.
She stood to balance on the bed and grasped the silver lightning bolt that hung from a transparent cord above her window. She braced on bare feet and locked knees appraising the piece, which had appeared as if from nowhere. Turning it over in her hand, she read the inscription: Thank you for loving me—SH.
The small gesture from her no-nonsense lover caught her off guard. The woman who had orchestrated the sentimental gift wouldn’t have even considered a second date with her a year ago, making it even more significant.
“You okay?” Syd’s husky voice jolted her out of her thoughts.
Parker barely grabbed the window frame in time to stop her tumble from the bed. “You about gave me a heart attack. I didn’t even hear you coming up the stairs,” she replied, her voice breathy, as Sydney laughed and walked toward the bed. Stepping gingerly to the edge, Parker wound her arms around her lover’s neck as she tried to pull her up onto the mattress.
“How about you come down here,” Syd said, glancing at the ceiling perilously close to her head. “One wrong move and I’m out cold.”
“When did you do this?” Parker kneeled on the mattress and reclined onto the bed at an angle as Sydney lay back with her. She looked up at the gift spinning in front of her bedroom window.
“Before I went to the gym today. I know you’ll kind of miss this being your place and I just wanted you to know that I knew.” She winked at Parker and ran her fingers through her thick dark hair, skimming a thumb over her cheek.
Parker grazed her hand down Sydney’s muscular arm and squeezed gently. “You’re too good to me, you know.” Parker rubbed the platinum lightning bolt charm at her neck, Syd’s first gift to her. Parker surveyed her angular face and slowly moved toward her. She hooked her thigh between Syd’s. “I can’t get enough of you,” she offered in Syd’s ear and slid her mouth to find the very sensitive zone behind it, kissing carefully.
“This is very good news.” Syd gasped as Parker abruptly found a path under her shorts and claimed her solidly with her fingers.
Submitting to her lover, Syd reclined farther into the soft comforter as Parker pushed her toward surrender. A slow rhythm built as Parker nipped along her neck and turned to suck each of Sydney’s long fingers slowly and seductively into her mouth. Parker locked her eyes with Sydney’s now cloudy focus and moved to whisper in her ear, “Show me how much you love me, Syd.”
The release was almost instant and incredibly intense. Parker was overwhelmed by the sensations finding her as she watched her strong lover fall over and under for her.
Sydney shifted Parker into her arms and held her as Parker curled against her. “I love you, Park.”
“I love you.”
They lay together quietly until Sydney stirred them both from the stillness. “Our meeting of the Lesbian Mystery Solvers Guild is starting soon, you know.”
“How could I forget,” Parker replied sarcastically. “The head of the Sydney Hyatt Fan Club will be there, too.”
“I thought you were the president of that club,” Sydney joked at Parker’s mock pout.
“Apparently, I was voted out during a one-woman coup.” She batted her eyes dramatically, lifting herself to straddle Sydney. “But don’t worry. I don’t plan on giving up my seat. I like it here.” Her eyes danced as Sydney looked at her carefully.
“I wouldn’t give you up, not for anything in the world.” Her tone was sincere as she brought Parker’s mouth to meet hers.
* * *
Darcy Dean arrived first and looked over the black Porsche with the DRIFTER license plate. She was impressed with Sydney’s success, but then again, Sydney had impressed her in many ways. The past few days had kept her reminiscing about her one true love, wishing she could craft an opportunity to talk to her alone. Parker was nice enough, but she wondered if they were as solid as they seemed. Sydney had been an insatiable lover a decade ago and she pondered if her new girlfriend provided the same electricity for Sydney that she once had.
She briefly thought about waiting in the car but decided to walk slowly toward the lobby and press Sydney’s buzzer. A file was pressed under her arm as she waited for entry. Parker answered the door in brown shorts and an old T-shirt with Hyatt printed over the pocket. I guess someone’s staking their territory.
“Hi, Darcy.” Parker’s voice was cheerful as she led Darcy through to the living room where Sydney was tending a makeshift bar on the kitchen island.
“Hey, Dean. Beer or wine?” She didn’t look up. Darcy wanted to look in her seductive gray eyes.
“Um, beer is fine, please. I’m a simple girl, SyFi.” She winked at Syd when she looked up at the mention of her old nickname.
“Stop. Please.”
Darcy shrugged. “You used to like it.” She stared over at Sydney.
“What does it mean?” Parker ventured since the conversation couldn’t get any more awkward, or inappropriate, for that matter. And she was curious, dammit.
“Well, Sy, for her name—I used to just call her that—and then when she started all of this freaky science fiction reconstruction stuff, it just kind of morphed into SyFi.” She shrugged again as if she knew now that the name held no significance for anyone in the room except her.
“Just Syd will work fine.” Syd’s tone was flat and dismissive. Parker thought that Darcy looked dissatisfied at being an outsider in Sydney Hyatt’s world.
The buzzer rang again and Parker was happy for the job of retrieving the rest of the guests. She tried to let go of her tension as she let them in through the lobby door.
“You okay?” Jen held Parker in the hallway while Mack continued into the loft with Olivia.
Parker offered in a stage whisper, “How about, next time, we have a secret work party and invite over all of the exes still pining for Mack and serve them cocktails?” She pursed her lips and shook her head.
Jen giggled at Parker’s sarcasm. “Does Syd have any old feelings for the crafty Ms. Dean?”
“I don’t think so. She acts like she can barely stand to be in the same room with her. However, our friend Darcy would certainly ride that ride again if she had the chance.” She chuckled, knowing their absence
would be obvious by now.
“Does Sydney know that?”
“Not before the other night. We had a talk about what she would take from me if she had the chance. There might have been visual aids.” Parker’s delivery was bone dry.
Jen laughed out loud. “I love you. You crack me up.”
“Let’s go watch the drama.” She caught Jen’s fingers in her own and led her inside.
Parker could see Syd already in her chair through the studio windows as Mack and Darcy were halfway up the stairs.
“I’m going to steal that baby—she is too adorable!” Darcy cooed as she made faces at Olivia Grace in Mack’s arms.
“Just no end to what you’re willing to steal from here, is there?” Parker said, loudly enough for only Jenny to hear as they followed behind.
Parker and Jen dropped into adjacent chairs settling the baby carrier between them.
“I’ll go first,” Mack volunteered. “I sweet-talked the admin in the patrol division to rush me the phone records for Sandy. I told her that I forgot to include them in the file for the rookies and didn’t want anyone think I was guilty of sabotage. She seemed to buy it and gave me the last two months’. So I haven’t looked at all the numbers yet, but the last ten calls were to the station and Mia. The interesting thing I learned from the cell company is that her phone was on and pinging the general vicinity until twenty minutes after the call to 9-1-1. Then the battery was removed or destroyed because the phone was never in service again. Someone there, a crime scene tech or a uniform would have been the only ones with access unless our killer hung around for the show. And you know for a fact it was gone when you arrived, right Darcy?”
“Absolutely.”
“I hate to say this out loud,” Syd said, “but you and I both know that the triangulation is weak on cell towers. A lot of courts are barring the use of that as stand-alone evidence. The shooter could have had the phone nearby before he took the battery out.” Syd braced her foot on the counter in front of her computer as she addressed Mack.