“Yes, sir. I spoke with Manning a little while ago.”
“Well then I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that the moratorium on your relationship with Miss Colby is no longer in effect,” he says looking at me pointedly. And I think I can see a slight smile on his face.
“Yes, sir,” I respond after a beat, glancing anxiously at Captain Skinner, who is shooting me a small, knowing smile. Shit. Is the whole department aware of my relationship status?
Marcos eyes me speculatively for a moment, and then he says, “Also, I’m sure you’re aware there’s a Sergeant’s exam coming up next month.” It’s more of a question than a statement of fact, and I frown slightly at him.
“Yes, sir?”
“Just making sure you knew,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. And I get the feeling there’s a distinct message in this exchange. He wants me to take this exam. Has he been talking to Lee? My frown gets deeper and I swallow anxiously as Marcos continues. “It’s the reason I’ve called this meeting,” he tells me.
“You are being encouraged to take the exam, Guy,” Skinner says, looking me in the eye. “You have a stellar record, Pierce. You are extraordinarily self-motivated. You’re a highly decorated, exemplary officer; you have been your entire career, and we want to promote you. Get you into a supervisory position.”
I am stunned, and I say nothing for a few seconds as I let his words sink in. It’s one thing to have Lee tell me that I’d make a good supervisor but, to have my Captain and my Lieutenant come at me this way … I’m not sure what to make of it.
“I … I’m not sure what to say,” I tell them honestly, looking from one man to the other. “I mean, I’m flattered, I guess but … with all due respect, Captain, I’m really not sure that’s something I want, sir. I love the work I’m doing now, I don’t want to start jockeying for a desk job. And Conner and me … we work well together. I don’t want to leave the Detective section.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that, Guy,” Marcos speaks up, smiling slightly. “So Captain Skinner and I have been talking. I want to keep you in the Detective section every bit as much as you want to stay here, and we are prepared to make that happen.”
“We want to give you some supervisory duties, Guy. But we can’t do that without you moving up in rank,” Skinner explains. “I have no doubt that you can pass the exam with no problem. And once you do, I promise you that you will remain here in the Detective’s section … with your current partner, doing your current job. But you’ll have a few added responsibilities, earn a little more respect and a slightly higher pay.”
Again, I’m quiet for a few seconds as I take in what he’s just said. Is he for real? “But … what about Dalton?” I ask, inquiring about the current Sergeant in the Detective section.
“Dalton’s moving up too,” Marcos replies simply. “He’s going to become the new Lieutenant over K-9 when Jennings retires at the end of the year.”
I’m slightly dumbfounded. Usually when someone first makes Sergeant, they become the low man on the totem pole and wind up being placed in a completely new section, on a really crappy shift, like 11 pm – 7 am. Surely they didn’t orchestrate this little game of musical chairs just for my benefit?
“Guy, you do realize that this is not how things are normally done around here,” Skinner speaks up, answering my unasked question when I remain silent and lost in thought. “We are essentially bending over backwards to try and entice you to start climbing the ladder.”
Did he really just say that, Pierce? I swallow a bit anxiously and clear my throat. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
“We don’t do that for everybody,” he continues. “In fact … I don’t ever remember it being done before, and I’ve been here almost thirty years. But you are exactly the type of officer who should be moving up in rank, and we want to make that happen.”
I can feel their eyes on me as I try to wrap my mind around this unexpected development. What do I tell them? Do I want to do this? I clear my throat once more. Why am I so nervous about this? “Um … the exam’s not for a few more weeks,” I say quietly. “Is it okay if I think about it for a while?”
“Make sure you give it some serious thought, Guy, but don’t take too long,” Marcos responds.
“Yes, sir,” I say quietly.
Then he smiles and says, “That’s all, Pierce.”
“Thank you both for thinking of me,” I say as I stand. I leave the office in a daze and sit at my desk for several minutes, just mulling over the whole Sergeant thing and wondering if this is something I want to pursue or not. And if I don’t … what would Skinner and Marcos think? And Lee. I would hate for Lee to be disappointed in me. But I know that I can’t make this decision based on him. I have to do what feels right for me. Moving up the ranks is not something that’s ever been on my agenda. I’m not opposed to it, I guess. I just never really gave it any serious thought before. Never even entertained the idea before Lee brought it up several weeks ago.
I sigh and try to push the topic aside for now. Something else Marcos said in there is gnawing at me too. Echols is no longer an issue. He’s been arraigned and is awaiting sentencing. It really is over. Samantha’s case is finally closed and she and I are free to … what? Free to date? Openly. Free to be together without any restrictions or worries about who might see us together. Except the freaking media, of course.
And that thought instantly pisses me off. It brings to mind last night’s scare over that tabloid rag running the story about Sam and me dating. Scott’s father said he would make sure the Seattle Social didn’t run that story until the dust was settled on this case. Well, the dust just settled and Sam wants me to escort her to her cousin’s wedding this weekend. And suddenly I’m wondering how being seen in the social pages of every Seattle media outlet, dating a billionaire’s daughter, is going to affect my position and my credibility here at the station. And what if I take Skinner and Marcos up on their offer and take that Sergeant’s exam? How would a high media profile affect my new promotion?
I try to put my erratic thoughts on hold as Dave and I get back to work. We follow up on a lead in our double assault case, going back to the bar to question a cocktail waitress who was working at the time the students were there. After we speak to her, we pile back into the cruiser and prepare to head back to the station to follow up on the information the waitress gave us. But first, we stop for lunch.
We’re sitting in the cruiser eating a deli sandwich when, out of the blue, Conner says, “What’s wrong, Guy? I would have thought you’d be happier now that Samantha’s case is over with.”
“I’m happy,” I say distractedly, chewing a mouthful.
“Yeah, that sounded convincing,” he says sarcastically, and I roll my eyes at him.
I take a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. “I am happy that this case is closed,” I say definitively. “I’m happy that Samantha is safe.”
“But?” He looks at me expectantly and I roll my eyes once more, tossing my half-eaten sandwich back into the bag.
“But … now that I am finally free to be with this woman publicly … I’m not sure I want to.”
“What?” he says, clearly shocked, and I shake my head at him.
“That came out wrong. I do want to be with her. I have never wanted anything more, Dave,” I admit to him. “But Sam is not your average 22-year-old woman. For a guy like me … being with Sam is complicated, man.” I sigh heavily as I think about all the baggage that comes along with her, and the staggering numbers in her bank account. “You know when her dad died, Samantha inherited half of her father’s fifty percent stake in Colby Coring.”
“Twenty-five percent?” Conner’s surprise is evident. “Wow. Her brother get the other twenty five?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Along with his title of COO of Colby Coring. Sam comes with quarter share of a Fortune 500 company, a multi-million dollar trust fund on top of that, and a family of billionaires to contend with. Not to mention the paparazzi an
d the media attention. I thought once the case was over, I wouldn’t have to worry about how my being with her affects my job, but that’s not really true. I still have that worry. And I just don’t know how I feel about any of it,” I say honestly. “I mean, how is someone like me supposed to put up with all of that?”
He is silent for a while as he studies me. Then he asks, “Do you love her?” I am caught off guard by his bluntness, and I avoid his steady gaze as I swallow anxiously.
“What the hell kind of a question is that?” I grumble at him.
He chuckles slightly. “It’s a very relevant, very important question, Guy. And it’s the key to that question you just asked.” At his words, I look at him in bewilderment, and he continues. “If you love her, Guy … and I mean truly love her … then you will find a way to put up with just about anything in order to be with her. And that’s not me giving you advice; that’s not just my opinion of the situation. That’s me explaining how it is. That’s just the nature of love, man. If she means that much to you, you will do whatever it takes.”
I think about his words the rest of the day; I can’t get them out of my head. And as I work on the report in front of me, I am barely able to concentrate. At close to 5 o’clock in the afternoon, my cellphone beeps and it’s a text from Sam:
Got my car.
Went shopping with Meg.
Picked up groceries.
Missing my man.
Her words take me by surprise and I can’t help but smile. Her man, huh? Yeah, I kinda like the sound of that.
Your man misses u too, baby.
Be home soon.
Truer words were never texted. I miss her like crazy right now and I can’t wait for this day to end. And I picture how she looked this morning when I stopped to tell her about Echols. Her long chestnut hair was pulled over her shoulder and secured with a green hair tie, and the dark green of her blouse made her eyes stand out. She is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life.“If you love her, Guy … you will find a way to put up with just about anything in order to be with her.”
Conner’s words echo inside my head as I try furiously to focus on my work and not on my girl. Maybe he’s right and I’m just conjuring up excuses to try and make things difficult. Sam and I talked about not letting her money become an issue last night, and I guess we can just deal with that as problems arise. And so far the family members that I have met – Megan and Lucas – both seem to be, if not supportive of our relationship, then at least tolerant of it. And as far as the media thing goes … well, I can learn to deal with that, I suppose. Although with my temper, it might prove to be a challenge.
When my shift finally ends, I cannot get out of here fast enough. I practically bolt from the station and out to the parking lot and into my truck. I am desperate to get home to Sam. Hmm? Home to Sam. That’s got a nice ring to it. When I pull into my driveway I see that Sam’s blue Maserati is parked just outside the garage and I hit the automatic garage door opener that I keep in my truck. I don’t normally park the truck in the garage with the Charger but, I will let Sam pull her car inside.
I get out of the truck and carry the garage door opener with me as I walk to the house. I’m slightly dismayed to find that Sam has left the front door unlocked and I frown as I enter the house. When I step inside and close the door behind me, my intent is to get Sam’s keys and pull the car into the garage for her. But when I look up, I am stopped in my tracks. What the hell?
I almost don’t recognize my own place and my frown gets deeper. I step further into the living room and see that there are striped blue, green and brown accent pillows on my couch and chair and a matching throw draped over the back of the couch. There is a fairly large, dark wood bookshelf sitting beside the table that holds the flatscreen TV – a bookshelf that wasn’t here when I left this morning – and it’s filled with all of my Guitar Player and Car Craft magazines, as well as a few decorative knickknacks and a potted plant. And I notice that the glass picture frames we bought in Fairhaven adorn the bookshelf as well, and she’s added our pictures to them. Where did she find that picture of me?
There’s a large cream colored candle on a black metal holder with blue and green marbles around it, sitting in the middle of the wood coffee table in front of the couch, and I feel my jaw clench slightly as I glance over to the corner and see that she thankfully hasn’t touched any of my guitar gear.
Turning slowly, I swallow anxiously as I take in the kitchen, which is also sporting a few new additions – like a new dish rack and new dishtowels. The aroma coming from the oven is so delicious, it makes my stomach growl. But I’m still too busy looking around in frustration to pay attention to that. There’s a bowl of fresh apples on the counter, and a small basket holding napkins sits in the middle of the kitchen table. The table has been fitted with new blue and white checkered place mats, and I notice that they match the new cushions that now adorn each kitchen chair. What the fuck is she doing, trying to take over my house? Is she moving in permanently? Would that be a such a bad thing, Pierce?
As I stand pondering that question I suddenly hear her voice behind me. “Hey, I thought I heard you come in,” she says brightly.
Taking a deep breath, I try to remember my mother’s words of advice before I say anything. And I think Sam can tell from the look on my face that I’m a little out of my depth here. I watch as her bright smile fades slightly. “What is all this?” I ask, trying to keep my voice as even as I can.
“Um, I just thought that I would help spruce up the place while I’m here. To say thank you for letting me stay,” she says timidly, and I can see the apprehension in her eyes.
“Don’t automatically get angry at the situation. Take a deep breath and try to look at things from her point of view.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” she says softly, looking up at me with big, worried eyes. And magically, I can feel the tension begin to slip away as I hold her gaze. I want to be angry. I should be angry but, I am under her spell.
“No,” I hear myself say softly, feeling bewitched. “I want you to feel comfortable here, Sam.” She smiles at me then and steps toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist, and I sigh as I close my arms around her. I remember the garage door opener in my hand then, and I pull away from her embrace. “Here. You can keep it in your car and park in the garage if you want.”
“With the Charger?” she asks in surprise, a small smile on her face.
“Yes,” I chuckle. “With the Charger. Just be careful pulling in and out, all right?”
“I promise,” she says. “I’ll go pull my car in now.”
“I’ll do it,” I tell her, looking her over. She looks as if she’s dressed for bed, wearing one of my t-shirts and I’m guessing just panties underneath. “Where’s your keys?”
“Oh, speaking of keys,” she says, venturing over to the table by the door and grabbing her keys. “I had a copy made of your house key.”
“Did you try the copy to make sure it works?” I ask her, putting my key back onto my key chain.
“Yes, I used it when I got home,” she smiles, sounding proud of herself.
“Hey, about that,” I look at her sternly. “This door was wide open just now when I got home. You need to lock it, Sam.”
She looks at me with a small frown. “Timothy Echols is behind bars, Josh,” she says in her defense.
“I know Echols is behind bars, baby,” I respond, my voice sounding a little aggravated. “But that doesn’t mean there’s no more evil out there. Lock the door when you are here alone, all right?”
She frowns at me. “You make it sound as if you live in a bad neighborhood,” she says looking concerned, and I can feel my aggravation growing.
“It’s a decent neighborhood, Samantha,” I tell her honestly. “But I’m a police officer, baby. I know what kind of world we live in; I see it every day. Humor me, and keep that door locked when you are home alone. Please.” My voice is forceful and slightly raised, and she is loo
king at me with big, worried eyes. “I just want you to be safe, Sam,” I add with a quiet sigh.
“Okay,” she nods her head. “I promise.”
“Okay.” We stare at each other anxiously for a beat and then I take a deep breath. “I’m going to go pull your car into the garage.” I turn and head for the side door in the kitchen. “Something smells fantastic, by the way.”
“Dinner is just about ready,” she says quietly, following me into the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving,” I say quietly and she smiles at me. I open the door then and step outside. Sliding behind the wheel of Sam’s Maserati, I wonder briefly what it would be like to drive it. Maybe I’ll get the chance one day, but for now, I simply pull it slowly into the space next to the Charger in my garage. I let the garage door down behind me and place the spare opener onto the driver’s side visor. Then I get out and head back inside.
Back in the kitchen, Sam is standing at the stove and removing something from the oven. And I notice then that she’s either purchased new cookware, or she’s rooted through my kitchen cabinets and found cookware that I had no idea I owned. Either way, dinner smells amazing. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her temple as she stands at the stove, and she grins.
“You need to go wash up for dinner, Detective,” she says, trying to sound stern.
“Yes, ma’am,” I smile, our earlier awkwardness forgotten as I kiss the spot behind her ear and trail soft kisses from there down to her neck, and she moans softly. Then she lightly smacks my hand.
“Step away from the cook and go get cleaned up,” she says more forcefully. “Or I may have to get rough with you.”
“Ohh, that sounds like a serious threat, Miss Colby,” I say, still kissing her neck. “I may have to arrest you for that. Handcuff you to the bed,” I whisper in her ear, and she gasps softly and I smile. She turns around and faces me then.
“You wouldn’t really do that, would you?” She sounds disbelieving and her eyes are wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. Hmm? This has possibilities.
Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 57