Learning to Breathe: Part One - The Collective - Season 1, Episode 3

by Ellie Masters

  She’d make it three. “I’ll be there by eleven.”

  “Eleven!” Bruce’s high-pitched shriek had her pulling the cellphone away from her ear.

  “Yes, eleven. There’s no way to get there sooner.” She didn’t want to get there at all because going to work meant leaving Derek behind.

  The dejection in Bruce’s tone was laughable. “All right. I’ll let them know.”

  Derek came over and pulled her into a hug. “I don’t want to let you go either.”

  She kissed the tip of his chin and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Then don’t.”

  Chapter 15

  Diner

  They docked, and Sally said her goodbyes to Ellen and Justine. Derek’s friends remained on the boat, while the driver from the night before greeted her and Derek in the parking lot. Instead of the stretched limo, a town car waited for them.

  “Good morning, Dan,” Derek said.

  “Good morning, Sir.” Dan held the door and closed it with a solid thunk once they were inside. “Where to, Sir?”

  “Take us to Del Mar’s.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s a small diner I enjoy. Best bacon and eggs in the city.”

  She scrunched her nose. “That’s great if you like eggs. I’m more of a pancake girl, or skip it all together.”

  “Skip? You’re a doctor. Don’t you know breakfast is the most important meal of the day?”

  “I’m a doctor. We skip meals all the time.”

  Derek shook his head. “We’re going to change that.”

  A few minutes later, Dan pulled up in front of a small diner. The breakfast rush was in full swing, and she wondered how long this stopover would take. Bruce had been adamant about getting in as soon as possible.

  “It looks busy,” she said. “Sure you don’t want to skip it?”

  Derek laughed. “Eager to get rid of me?”

  There was a small, empty table tucked into the back of the diner. He guided her toward it with a gentle press of his hand against her back.

  “Not eager,” she said. “I’d love to spend all day with you if I could…but work is calling my name.”

  “Not for a couple hours.” He pulled out a chair. “Sit. We have a few things to discuss.”

  The loud clatter of dishes and noisy conversations of customers had Sally cringing. Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea, but Derek had insisted he feed her before saying goodbye. There was more to this request, but he hadn’t voiced it yet.

  A man in a fedora sat at a nearby table. Covered in tattoos, she wondered if he had any of those hidden tats that would glow. He sat alone, staring at his clasped hands while whistling Ring around the Rosy over and over again.

  Before Derek could flag the waitress down, she breezed by, headed to the kitchen to pick up food for other customers.

  Laughter from the counter had Sally turning her attention to the men sitting there. She placed a hand on Derek’s arm. “I know them. Do you mind if I go over and say hi?”

  The woman behind the counter walked over to her friends, Logan Reid and Detective Mackenzie. The waitress’ lilting voice sounded pressured and rushed, but with the busy morning crowd that wasn’t unexpected.

  “Good morning gentlemen,” the woman said. “Running a little late I see.”

  “No, smartass we’re going over a case.” Mac’s deep rumble carried through the diner.

  “Ohhh…” The woman leaned over and lowered her voice. The rest of their conversation vanished beneath the ambient sounds of the crowded diner.

  The first waitress returned, and Sally swore she’d seen her someplace before. The blonde placed a slice of pumpkin pie with a mile-high dollop of whipped cream down in front of the man with the fedora and tattoos. He said nothing, continuing that odd whistling of his, and picked up a fork.

  The man with the fedora gave her the creeps, but the pie looked divine.

  Sally leaned close and whispered to Derek. “I want some of that.”

  “Some of what?”

  “Pumpkin pie. It’s my favorite.”

  “For breakfast?”

  She scrunched her brows. “Of course for breakfast. Haven’t you ever had pie for breakfast?”

  He shook his head. “Never.”

  “Well, you should try it.”

  “How about something healthy? Eggs?”

  She smiled. “Nope. I want a piece of that pie.” Leaning over to give Derek a kiss on the cheek, she paused to nibble at his ear. “Let me go say hi to my friends. If that waitress comes back, order me that pie.”

  Derek put his hand over hers. “Stay for a minute. You can say hello in a moment. I want to discuss your breakfast choices.”

  The low, throaty drone of motorcycle exhaust rumbled outside. The woman riding the bike stopped in front of the café and got off. A shock of blue stuck out from beneath her helmet.

  Sally gripped Derek’s hand. “Oh. My. God!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Sally pointed. “That’s Misty. If she’s here, Rhianna Rains isn’t far behind.”

  “You’re a fan I take it,” he said with a chuckle.

  “A fan! Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to see Shadow & Flame in concert, but the tickets always sell out within minutes.”

  “Go say hi.”

  “Oh no!”

  “Why not?”

  “Rhianna has a thing about people bugging her and taking pictures. She just made the headlines again, knocking out some paparazzi who was trying to sneak a picture.”

  The woman behind the counter hurriedly cleared three spots. There was only one reason to make three seats available. Rhianna was definitely coming, and that guy who always seemed to be in the background of all the paparazzi shots.

  And there she was. The lead singer of Sally’s favorite band strutted into the diner like she owned the place. She gave the woman behind the bar a hug. Her partner, Misty, kissed the waitress’ cheek and sat at the counter next to Reid.

  Beside her, Derek chuckled.

  She slapped his arm. “What’s so funny?”

  He gave her a wink. “You know, you could go over there. Say hi to your friends and work up an introduction.”

  “Or, I could just die right now.” She yanked her hand away from him.

  “Or, I could introduce you?” He gave another infuriating wink.

  “Introduce me?” She eyed him with suspicion. “You know her.” There was no reason to ask. The mischievous look on his face told her all she needed to know.

  “Maybe.”

  “How?”

  “I’m a supporter of the arts.”

  She pointed a finger. “You support the ballet, but she’s a rock star.”

  “Whom I support.” He flashed a grin, enjoying the banter.

  Of course, he would. She was beginning to realize there was more to this man than she realized. “What exactly do you do for a living?”

  After all their long talks, he’d revealed very little.

  “Venture capitalist.”

  Meaning he was a man whose money made money, or something like that.

  “Who enjoys the ballet,” she said.

  “Who enjoys the ballet,” he affirmed. He gestured to the women sitting at the counter. “And rock music.”

  “Of course.”

  “Rhianna’s band is playing in town later this week,” he said. “If you’re interested, I’m pretty certain I can get tickets. Maybe even backstage passes.”

  “Holy crap! Really?” Her eyes widened. “I will not say no to that, but you have to get one for George too. He’s got a major crush on Mitsy.” Which was hysterical considering George was gay, but he couldn’t stop talking about the blue-haired Mitsy.

  “Consider it done.” Derek pulled out his cellphone and tapped on the screen.

  Their waitress finally stopped by their table. “Hi, I’m Laura, what can I get you?”

  Sally spoke before Derek could order her eggs and bacon. “I want a piece of that pumpkin pie.”

  La
ura scrunched her nose. “Seriously?”

  She’d definitely met this woman before. But where?

  “Definitely. And some iced tea if you have it.”

  Derek shook his head. “Bring us two plates of eggs, scrambled, with bacon. I’ll have coffee, black, and she’ll have orange juice.”

  “What about the pie?” Laura asked.

  He arched a brow, perhaps testing how Sally would respond to him overriding her breakfast choice.

  “Fine, eggs it is,” she conceded. “But, can you bring ketchup, please. I can’t eat eggs without it.”

  “You put ketchup on your eggs?” Derek’s mouth twisted with distaste. “That’s gross.”

  “Ketchup or salsa. If you’re going to make me eat something as foul as eggs, I’m going to need ketchup.” She turned to Laura. “Have we met?”

  Laura’s face paled, but she recovered quickly, tapping her order pad against her palm. “Hey, big guy, there’s nothing wrong with ketchup on eggs. I’ll bring both.”

  Derek leaned across the table and gripped Sally’s hand. “Are you upset?”

  For changing her order? She should be, but she didn’t really mind. Having him take care of her, even something as insignificant as seeing her eat a healthy breakfast, filled her heart to bursting.

  “I still want the pie,” she said.

  “That’s not an answer.” His tone held a hint of reprimand laced with amusement.

  “I’m not mad.”

  “Good. If you still want the pie after the eggs, I’ll get it for you.”

  She ducked her head. “Thanks.” Although why she was thanking him wasn’t really clear, and he knew well enough she’d be too full for pie. Ugh, eggs.

  Across the diner, Mac and Reid joked with Rhianna and Mitsy. Their ever-present third wheel, tech-whiz hottie, Royston, had joined them.

  Her rock idol sat not more than twenty feet away, and Sally was petrified to say hello. Derek was right, all she had to do was go over and say something to Mac, and have him make an introduction. But she wouldn’t. No way in hell would she put herself in that position.

  Reid glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened with recognition. He tugged on Mac’s sleeve. Mac grabbed his coffee and followed behind Reid. The two of them weaved between the crowded tables, coming to say hello.

  “Hey, doc.” Reid sauntered over. “Whatcha doing here?”

  Mac took a drag of his coffee and gave a lift of his chin in greeting.

  She pulled at her hair, feeling suddenly self-conscious in front of her friends. Well, Reid counted as friend. Mac was more of a business acquaintance.

  “Hey, guys.” She stood and kissed Reid on the cheek, and then gave Mac a peck too. “Fancy seeing you here. Did you get my messages?”

  “We were just discussing that case,” Mac said. He held his cellphone out, but she couldn’t focus on the small screen. “I got your email.”

  “Yeah, I had to amend my initial report,” she said.

  “What made you change your mind?” Intuitive as always, Reid’s question held a certain weight. She’d never once changed a report before, and he’d zeroed in on that oddity. Her methods were meticulous for a reason, but the junkie’s case had nearly gotten by her rigorous exam.

  “Several things, actually. When I talked with you earlier, it looked like your typical OD. However, things weren’t adding up. The victim has contusions around her throat suggesting strangulation, but that’s not the cause of death.” Shifting into work mode had her relaxing. This is where she shined, a place where insecurity had no role. “Then there are the puncture wounds from the needles.”

  Mac interrupted. “Wouldn’t needle marks on a drug addict be normal? I mean, I’d expect she has track marks up and down her arms and legs. Hell, even her toes. Why would a few puncture wounds change your findings?”

  Reid glanced around the busy diner, and she cued into his concern. The ambient noise covered their conversation, but talking about murder wasn’t exactly appropriate in public.

  She lowered her voice. “Well, the track marks are normal, but the puncture wounds aren’t self-inflicted. I’m thinking someone grabbed her, then stuck her with a needle several times, either the same one or several different ones. At least five marks that I can see. That’s where the overdose came from.”

  He shook his head, frustrated perhaps with the way people abused their bodies. She felt the same thing. From overdoses to suicides, she celebrated the natural deaths. Morbid humor perhaps, but in her line of work, it was important to develop good coping skills.

  “How can you be so sure?” Reid asked.

  “Addicts are really good at finding usable veins, almost religious about it. Like Mac said, they’ll use the veins between their toes if they have to. Thing is, they’re experts and approach the vein at a forty-five-degree angle.” She paused for a second, remembering the exam. “But that’s not even the weirdest thing.”

  “Go on,” Reid said. Him questioning her findings had nothing to do with his faith in her medical knowledge or procedural skill. He was a smart man; he picked apart details until he understood them inside and out. It was one of the reasons he was good at his job. Scary good, actually.

  “She had cloves in her mouth. Aspirated a couple of the buds.”

  The man sitting at the next table let out a booming laugh, interrupting their conversation. The man held his phone and seemed to be laughing at whatever he saw. Reid turned and gave the guy a look. He could terrify a hardened criminal with that look. The poor guy pulled his fedora lower and shifted in his seat, placing his back to them, he bent over the table to eat his pie.

  “Addicts are huffing cloves now?” Reid blew out a breath.

  “Not the spice.”

  “But you said cloves?” He looked to Mac who scribbled in one of his notepads.

  She’d given him all the pertinent information in the email, but Mac preferred his pen and paper.

  “You’re thinking of the spice used in cooking. It’s ground from the dried flower buds of the clove plant.”

  “What’s your gut tell you? I’ve never known you to be wrong.” Mac looked up from his scribbling.

  “I think someone tried to kill her in that alley. Maybe they fought over drugs? It could explain the marks on her neck. But if she was incapacitated, I don’t understand why they’d inject her with a lethal dose of heroin rather than just run away. Either way, those puncture marks in her muscle weren’t self-administered.”

  “The cloves? What part do they play?” Mac made a note, then looked up.

  She tried to explain. “For a junkie who’s missed a fix, and in the early stages of withdrawal, maybe she thought it would make her nausea go away?”

  “By chewing cloves?” Reid didn’t look convinced.

  “Some people think clove buds have antiemetic properties. But, I’m just guessing here.” All her findings had been included in the extensive report. “My job is to report the facts. Yours is to figure out what it all means. If I had the answers, you’d be in the unemployment line.”

  Mac chuckled at her joke. Funny, since she hadn’t meant to tease Reid. One of the other waitresses bustled by, cleaning off the tables. His gaze cut directly to the woman’s ass, lingering there longer than passing interest. Could this be Ava? The one he’d only ever mentioned in passing, but clearly had a thing for? By the directness of his gaze, she bet a million bucks she was right. This could be fun.

  She cleared her throat, and let him know with a flick of her gaze that she knew exactly where his head had been.

  “Hmm…thanks for the update,” Reid said. “We appreciate it.” His gaze cut to Derek, his eyes pinching like he was trying to place whether or not he knew him.

  Derek set his coffee on the table drawing her attention. Oh shit! She’d moved so far into work mode, she’d forgotten him. He was probably fuming. Instead, he gave her a slow smile.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said with a rush. “This is my…”

  What the h
ell was he? Saying he was her friend seemed wrong, but he wasn’t her boyfriend either. Whatever Derek was becoming belonged to the realm of something she hadn’t yet wrapped her head around.

  Derek stood and extended his hand. “Derek Lemark. Pleasure.” He shook Mac’s hand first, then turned the force of his will on Reid.

  She cringed. Please don’t make this a macho handshake contest, but Derek remained calm and confident. The men gripped, shook, released, and she blew out her breath.

  “Nice to meet you,” Reid said. "Do I know you?"

  "It's possible," Derek said, but he didn't elaborate.

  Mac rubbed the back of his head. “Doc, you really gave us an odd one this time.”

  She’d known Mac for several years, and Reid nearly as long. In her line of work, giving the cops odd cases came with the territory.

  “I should have another one for you later today…maybe tomorrow,” she said.

  “Really?” Reid said with a laugh. “You’re going to have to work hard to top this last one.”

  She remembered Reid’s glance around the busy diner and didn’t want to go into details here. Bruce’s description of creamy white stuff leaking out of the wound had her interested. Creamy white could be any number of things. She'd wait until she knew more before saying anything.

  “Just trying to keep you employed, Reid.”

  Knowing Reid, he’d already figured out Derek was new in her life. Within minutes, he’d have one of his security team digging up info on Derek. What would Derek think about that?

  “Well,” Mac said, “give me a call when you finish the new case.”

  Derek cupped her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, and making it very clear he was more than a friend. Both Mac and Reid took a step back.

  Her voice cracked, and she cleared it. “I doubt I’ll have it to you by tonight. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” It shouldn’t take but a few hours to process the body, but she wanted to be thorough and not miss anything.

  How did the simple warmth of Derek’s hands make her blood boil and throw her thoughts into a tailspin?

  “Catch ya’ later, Doc. Tell George to call me. I missed out on his last trip to the mountains. Been busy, but I want to see how big that mutt of his is getting.” Mac nodded to Derek.