by G. K. Parks
“Liv might still shoot you,” I said. I watched my partner push his chair beneath his desk. Something wasn’t right. “Logan, I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes. I just need to finish some things up first with Brad.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Logan looked down at his phone again. “You and me need to get something on the books before you make your court appearance. How does Monday sound, Brad?”
“Works for me,” Fennel said.
After Winters left us alone, I turned off my computer and watched my partner anxiously smooth his hair back, not that his short hair even had enough length to get unruly, but that was beside the point. “Are you okay?”
“Not really. The only thing I can figure is the robber killed Jonathan Gardner just because he was there. So unless we find evidence, video footage, or an eyewitness account that leads straight to the killer, I’m not sure we’ll get this guy.”
“Or guys. It could be a team.”
“$250 bucks is a lousy payoff for one person, let alone two or more.” He sighed. “I guess we’ll figure it out tomorrow. You don’t want to keep Logan waiting.”
“What about Carrie?” I asked. “Normally, you’d already be out the door and halfway to her place by now.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m worried.”
He held the door for me. “I promise this won’t affect any of our cases. The ME’s office isn’t going to shun us or toss us to the back of the list. It’ll be fine.”
“Are you breaking up with her?”
“Liv, don’t.”
I held up my palms. “Sorry.”
He softened and nudged me. “I’ll see you tomorrow at noon. I might be a few minutes late. Can you cover for me? Or are you planning on showing up a few minutes late too? I mean Winters is the entire package. He’s the kind of guy every mom hopes their daughter will marry.”
“Oh god, tell me you didn’t have this conversation with my mom.”
“Not yet. But I hear wedding bells.”
An officer walked past us, going up the steps, and I elbowed Fennel in the ribs. “Don’t start shit like that here. I don’t want rumors floating around.”
“Fine.” He leaned in close. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And then we went out the double doors, past the front desk, and out of the precinct. By the time I turned to tell him good night, he was already gone.
“Liv,” Winters waved me over to his fancy car, “you want a ride?”
“No, I’ll follow you. Where are we going?”
“My place, if that’s okay. All of my notes are there, and I have tuna steaks marinating in the fridge. I thought I’d make us dinner.”
I was too tired to fight. “That sounds perfect.”
Twelve
“Liv?”
“Huh?” I blinked my eyes open, only to squeeze them shut a moment later. “Too bright.”
The assistant district attorney laughed. “I take it you don’t rise with the sun.”
“Not if I don’t have to.” Why did I stay the night? For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what possessed me to think this was a good idea. And now I had to deal with the fallout.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but you left your phone in the living room. And it’s been buzzing for the last twenty minutes.”
Rolling onto my side, I caught sight of the clock. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Logan held out the device, and I dragged myself off his bed and grabbed it from his hand.
The alarm notification pinged on the main screen. I was supposed to be across town in thirty minutes. This was a nightmare. I wouldn’t get there in time if I went home to change. And I needed to change. “I’m late.”
“For work?”
“Not exactly.”
“Okay.” He gave me an odd look. “Do you want to share with the class, Detective?”
I grabbed my gun and badge off his nightstand, clipping them onto my belt. “This was such a bad idea. Why did you let me stay? What’s wrong with you? Professional boundaries, remember?”
“Oh, sure. Blame me. You’re the one who came down with a killer migraine last night. Most women use that as an excuse not to crawl into my bed.”
“I don’t follow convention. And the champagne you opened only made it worse.”
“Then let me make it up to you.” He jerked his chin at my phone. “What’s so important it can’t wait until after breakfast?”
I blinked again, feeling a buzzing headache behind my eyes. “You made breakfast?”
“Made might be too strong of a word. I’d say I’m offering you breakfast. But I did make coffee. Does that impress you?”
“Did it come from a pod or k-cup?”
Logan looked at the floor. “Maybe.”
“Not impressed.”
“Are you always this difficult?”
“Ask Brad.” I looked around the unfamiliar room. “Mind if I use your bathroom?”
“Not at all.” He pointed to a closed door. “I put out fresh towels. And if you look in the middle drawer, you should find some travel items I took from a hotel.”
“Stealing’s a crime. Didn’t they teach you anything in law school?” I went into the bathroom and shut the door.
By the time I came out, Logan was seated on the couch, typing up the details we’d gone over last night concerning a pending trial. “Are you sure you don’t want breakfast? At least take a cup of coffee for the road.”
“No, thanks.” My partner would spot an unfamiliar coffee cup a mile away. And the last thing I wanted to tell him was I spent the night in Logan Winters’ apartment after I gave him such a hard time yesterday. I glanced at the screen. “Are we done with the trial prep? Or is there something else we need to go over?”
“No, I think we’re good.” He clicked another tab. “But I will need to review Fennel’s statement with him before Thursday.” Logan looked up at me. “So when you see your partner, tell him don’t forget.”
“On one condition.” I grabbed my purse and jacket from one of the stools and headed for the door. “You don’t mention this to him.”
“Mention what?”
“Good.” I turned back around to make sure I had everything.
“Forget something?” Logan held out my notebook.
“Right. Thanks.” I tried to take it from him, but he didn’t let go.
“Did you forget something else?” His blue eyes sparkled. He was enjoying this.
“Like what?”
“C’mon, Liv, you’re really going to make me beg? Don’t I at least get a good night kiss?”
That stopped me dead in my tracks. “What?”
“That’s how dates usually conclude.”
“This wasn’t a date.”
He rubbed the stubble on his cheek. “May I present to you exhibit A.” He pointed to the kitchen sink filled with dirty dishes. “Dinner.” Then he tapped his pen against the side of an empty champagne bottle. “Exhibit B, drinks.” He grinned, looking back into his bedroom. “And exhibit C, you spent the night in my bed. That’s how my better dates end.”
“That’s sad.” I patted him sympathetically on the shoulder and eyed the blanket on the couch. “If you date a lot, you should probably invest in a pull-out. After all, I spent the night alone in your bed. And you were out here. That’s how it usually goes, huh?”
He laughed. “Don’t focus so much on the details.”
“Sorry, hazard of the job.” I opened the door. “I’ll see you around, counselor.”
“Not if I see you first.”
Logan liked to flirt and tease. It was harmless. He was harmless, but I didn’t want word getting out or rumors spreading. The last thing I needed were other people in the department thinking I was having a fling with an ADA. It was bad enough most cops questioned my abilities since my father had been a legend at the precinct, and they figured that meant I hadn’t earned my position. So being a DeMarco was already one strike against me. Bein
g a woman was strike two. And any type of relationship with a coworker would be strike three. I couldn’t risk that, so why didn’t I call a cab and go home last night? Oh right, I thought my head would explode. Plus, I was too tired and inebriated to think clearly. That was why.
Grumbling to myself, I walked out of the building and cursed the bright sunlight. On top of it, I was hungover. “Stop it, Liv. There’s nothing you can do about it now.” I unlocked my car. The digital clock on the dash reminded me I was already behind schedule, so I sent a text to Emma, drove home, brushed my teeth, washed my face, changed clothes, and tied back my hair. I didn’t have time to shower, but it didn’t matter. I was going to spend the next few hours at the softball field. However, since the game might last until it was time to start my shift, I grabbed my gear, just in case.
When I arrived, I was surprised to find most of the parking spots occupied. Brad had downplayed these games as nothing more than a few guys from the precinct tossing a ball around. From the looks of it, this was a big deal. Or maybe that was just because it was the big police versus fire department game. The two departments worked well together, but no one could deny we had a friendly rivalry dating back to the dawn of time, or whenever the city first formed a police and fire department.
“Hey,” Emma called, waving at me from her spot on the bleachers, “where’ve you been?” I bounded up the two steps and took a seat beside her. My best friend handed me a travel cup. “I thought we might have gotten our signals crossed.”
“No, I’m just running late.” I took a sip, pleased Emma had brought me a green smoothie for breakfast. “Have you seen Brad yet?”
“No, but I’ve been distracted.” She jerked her chin toward the dirty blond firefighter currently taking practice swings near the dugout. From the quirk of her lips, I knew devious thoughts were running through her mind. Obviously, her recent hiccup in the dating world hadn’t been traumatic enough to cause her to swear off men. I probably should have been relieved. Instead, I was concerned. She tore her eyes away from him and focused on me. “Doesn’t he look familiar?”
“I don’t know him. Could he be an EMT?”
Emma turned back to the field and tilted her head from side to side. “No, I don’t recognize him from the hospital. We would have crossed paths in the ER. I would have made sure of that.”
I snorted and gulped down more smoothie. Even though I was queasy, I knew the smoothie would help. Water would be good too.
Emma bumped her knee against mine. “Where were you? I thought we were meeting at your parents’ house since they left us in charge of housesitting and dogsitting while they’re on their Mediterranean cruise.”
“I’m sorry about that. Did Gunnie give you any problems?”
“Nah, he’s such a cutie. But he’s so big. He practically walks me. It’s a good thing your dad has him trained.”
“He’s a Bernese mountain dog. They grow fast. You remember the movie Beethoven?”
“Wasn’t that a Saint Bernard?”
“Close enough.”
“At least he doesn’t slobber that much.” She eyed me. “Did you oversleep?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded a few times before saying, “You smell like men’s cologne. Who’s the lucky fella? Did he oversleep too?”
“Em,” I scoped out our surroundings, but we weren’t that close to anyone else, “be quiet.”
She looked at me with disapproval, which she had mastered by observing my mother. “The answer is obviously no, or you’d be in a better mood.”
“I have a headache. Leave me alone.”
“I bet you told him the same thing. Who is he, Liv? You know I’m going to annoy you until you tell me. Is this why you wanted to move out of my apartment? I told you I didn’t mind if you had sleepovers.”
“I was with Logan. We were doing trial prep.”
Emma made a face. “Never mind.”
“Told ya.”
“No wonder you have a headache. I’ll get you a bottle of water from the concession stand. Do you want anything else?”
“No, thanks.”
“I’ll see if they have a banana. You could use something solid in your stomach.”
While Emma was gone, I searched for our team’s dugout. As predicted, our uniforms were blue. At the far end, I spotted my partner loosening up his shoulder. Oh, that’s right. He pitches, I thought. He rotated his shoulder a few times and made some exaggerated throwing gestures.
“Good morning, Liv.” Detective Jake Voletek sauntered over to the fence which separated the stands from the field. He rested his forearm against the chain-link and took off his cap. He used the same hand to rub his forehead and then put the cap back on. “Are you here to cheer me on?”
“I doubt you need any more cheering. You have an entire section dedicated just to you.” I caught sight of several women on the other end who giggled and pointed at my fellow homicide detective.
He crooked his finger for me to come closer, so I climbed down the two rows and stood in front of him. “You understand how badge bunnies work, right? They’ll jump on anyone with a badge. They aren’t here for me. Well, not specifically.” He turned to face them. “Morning, ladies.” A few giggled, and one even did that coquettish wave, waggling each of her fingers separately. He turned back to me. “How come you never do that when I wish you a good morning?”
“Because I have more than one brain cell. But I could always just wave to you with one finger.”
“Ouch.” He took a step back from the fence. “I should warm up. Does Brad know you’re here?”
“Not yet.”
“Oh, this should be fun.”
“Thanks for the heads up about my partner’s secret double life and the invite to the game.”
“Anytime.” Someone called his name. “I’ll catch you later.” Voletek turned and jogged across the field.
As I headed back to my seat, I spotted Emma coming up the steps with some fruit cups and a bottle of water. “Who was that?” she asked, handing me the water.
“Voletek.”
She unfolded a napkin and placed it on my thigh before popping the lid on a fruit cup and handing it to me with a spoon. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing.” I looked down at the fruit cup. “Stop mothering me. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sorry, but you know Maria gave me specific instructions on what to do while she and your dad are on their month-long cruise. That included watching the house, feeding and walking the dog, and taking care of you.”
“She didn’t tell you to feed me too, did she?”
“No, but,” Emma glanced down at the smoothie and fruit cup, “someone has to, and obviously, Bradley isn’t doing a very good job. After all, he let you go home with a strange man.” She squinted in the direction of the dugout. “So that was Jack?”
“Jake.”
“Right. He’s kinda cute. I bet he cleans up nicely.”
“No.”
“Not for you.” She gave me a look. “Well, you get first dibs. Did you call dibs?”
My headache had gone from an annoying buzzing behind my eyes to a constant throbbing and an annoying buzzing in my ears. Or maybe that was just Emma. “The last thing I need is for you to date someone in homicide. I just transferred. Lt. Winston doesn’t like me. My coworkers don’t know what to make of me.”
She let out a huff. “Fine.”
We silently drank our green smoothies. I picked the orange and banana slices out of the fruit cup and ate them. But I couldn’t stomach the pineapple or kiwi, so I gave those to Emma. By the time I finished breakfast and most of my water, my headache had dropped to a tolerable level and the guys had finished their warm-up.
After some sort of ceremonial sports thing I didn’t understand, the players jogged out to take their places.
“Go Brad,” a pretty blonde called from the other side of the stands. Brad smiled at Carrie and gave a little wave without waggling each of his fingers s
eparately. Or maybe he did, but I couldn’t tell since he had a glove on.
“Yeah, go Bradley,” Emma cheered.
Brad turned at the unexpected sound of Emma’s voice. His eyes zeroed in on me. I held up my palms and shrugged. He tucked the ball into his glove and pointed at his eyes and then at me. Perhaps, I should have waggled my fingers at him coquettishly, but I knew my partner. He wasn’t mad. He just wanted me to think he was.
Emma nudged me in the ribs. “Who’s that?” She jerked her chin in Carrie’s direction, and I turned to look at the medical examiner’s assistant with a smile and friendly nod.
“That’s Carrie.”
“Carrie? When did Brad get a girlfriend?” Emma asked.
“She’s not his girlfriend. They’re friends.” Except that might have changed in the last twelve hours. After all, she was here. That had to mean something. Maybe after the game, they’d go shopping for rings.
“Right,” Emma exaggerated the word. “How long has she been sleeping with him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Emma cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t believe that. You and Brad don’t have any secrets. Though, that does explain it.”
“Explains what?”
“Never mind.” She linked her arm through mine. “So how long has Brad been playing softball?”
I watched him throw out another pitch. The ball whizzed past the batter, and Brad took a step back to reposition for his next pitch with the same cocky swagger he had whenever he noticed something or found a piece of evidence at a crime scene that everyone else had missed. “According to Jake, he’s been on the team for years. He just never told me. See, we have secrets.” But I couldn’t figure out why.
Three innings in, my phone rang.
Thirteen
“Fennel,” I shouted, holding up my phone, “we have to go.”
Someone called a timeout or whatever the equivalent was in softball, and Brad jogged over to me from where he’d been waiting on the bench for his turn at bat. “What’s going on?”
“We caught a case.”