by A. J. Norris
“Mmmm, thank you,” Natalie moaned after they’d finished.
Lying next to her, he panted, “You’re welcome.” What a shitty thing for him to say after sex, even if he’d only replied to what she’d said. He squeezed her hand. “I mean, yeah, that was great.”
Harry got up and went into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and splashed cool water on his face.
Natalie knocked on the door. “I gotta use the bathroom.”
“I’ll be out in a sec.”
She was standing right behind the door when he opened it. They traded places, then he got into bed. He wasn’t leaving unless she made him.
Natalie returned to the bed, climbing in without a sound except the rasping of the sheets. She pulled the covers up to her neck and faced the wall. Not liking how far away she seemed, Harry positioned himself for spooning. When she didn’t object to him being so close, he draped an arm over her waist.
CHAPTER FORTY
Alarm clocks were so unreliable, especially when you forgot to set them. Damn birds awoke Harry instead. He had been exhausted last night, and fell asleep right after curling around Natalie.
“What time are you picking up Brayden?” Natalie asked, yawning.
“Ten-thirty. Why?” He rubbed his eyes.
“You’re going to be late.”
Harry shot out of bed. “What time is it?” He glanced at the clock on her side of the bed she held angled for him to see. “Shit!”
A soft chuckle came from her. “Relax, so you’re a little late. What’s the big deal?”
“Yeah, try telling Grace that.” She’d said ten-thirty AM sharp or don’t bother showing up at all. He knew she was serious. It was ten-fifteen already. Good thing he had packed a few days ago and put the bags and gear by the garage door. Brayden wasn’t the only one looking forward to the fishing trip.
Harry started getting his clothes on and paused, Natalie watching him. “Nat, we need to talk…”
She waved him off. “It can wait. Brayden can’t. We’ll talk when you get back.”
“Is everything okay?” He motioned at her belly.
“Harry. Go. The baby’s fine and will still be right here Wednesday when you get home.”
“Does this mean…?”
“I’m still angry with you, but I’m keeping the baby.”
“Were you ever not going to?”
“Go and have some fun.” He smiled with joy and relief. “Go,” she said lightheartedly.
After speed dressing and brushing his teeth, Harry was across the street in his garage within five minutes. Cedric’s car pulled into the driveway and he got out.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, slamming his trunk shut.
“Going fishing, what else?”
“Funny, I don’t remember inviting you.”
“I know. I figured it was an oversight on your part.
Harry chuckled. “You think so, huh?” Cedric’s brown eyes stared at him until Harry surrendered. “All right, if Brayden’s okay with you tagging along.”
His best friend clapped his hands. “Great. I’ll get my stuff.”
They rode for a few minutes before anyone spoke, Harry enjoyed the silence.
“Grace called me. I think she figured you’d need some prodding,” Cedric said.
“For what?”
Cedric shrugged. “I dunno, I guess she didn’t trust you’d come through for Brayden.”
“So she called you to make sure I—” Harry’s cell rang. It was Brayden. “Hey, kid, I’m on my way.”
“Cool.”
“Cedric invited himself, but I told him he can’t come unless you’re okay with it.”
“It’s cool. How far away are you?”
“About five minutes.”
“Okay, hurry, your daughter’s pacing.” Brayden said. “I love her, but she’s a worrier, isn’t she?” he whispered.
Harry chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s my fault.” I let her down too many times.
“I think it’s just her personality. Some people worry, some people don’t. I’m not a worrier.”
“No, Bray. I think you’re pretty damn terrific.”
Mikey waved at Harry and Cedric from the front door as he pulled into the driveway. Brayden came out and ran down the porch steps less than a minute later, practically knocking his dad over in the process. He had a backpack slung from his shoulders and his pole and tackle box in his hands. “Bye, Dad, see you next week!”
“Wait!” Mikey ducked into the house and emerged with another small duffle bag. “You forgot your other bag. The one with your toothbrush and deodorant.”
“I forgot,” Brayden told him when Mikey handed him the bag.
“Yeah, okay. Just remember to brush your teeth and use deodorant this weekend, all right?”
“I will.”
“You better.” Mikey hugged his son and told him to call when they got to the cabin. Brayden climbed in the backseat and fastened the belt over his lap. His father leaned over the driver’s side window. “Thanks for taking this trip with him. It’s very grandfatherly of you.”
Harry smirked. “Smart-ass.”
“Bray’s got some spending money on him in case he needs it. Can I offer you some—”
“I got him covered. It’s Bray’s birthday present.”
“Thank you. See ya, Cedric. Have fun, kid.” Mikey tapped on the roof. He stayed in the driveway until Harry backed the car into the street.
They made it almost an hour north before the subject of the baby came up. At least before Brayden mentioned it with his usual directness. “I hear you got Natalie pregnant.” His tone suggested he was awed by the idea.
Cedric snort-chuckled. “I can hardly believe it myself.”
“I know, right? Viagra must really work.” Brayden laughed.
“What? I’m not that old,” Harry said.
“Oh, come on, you mean to tell me you don’t pop one of those tiny blue—”
“No. And quit talking about this. Impressionable young mind in the car.”
“The kid brought it up.”
“That’s true,” Brayden said.
Harry sighed. “Gawd. Both of you stop.” It was going to be a long weekend.
Cedric and Brayden laughed and gave each other high-fives.
“Any news on the Merlow case?” Cedric asked.
“Not discussing this with the kid around. Besides, I was taken off the case.”
“That’s what I figured.” Harry turned into a Tim Horton’s parking lot. “I was wondering when you’d make a stop for coffee.”
“How come you were taken off the case?” Brayden asked when Harry got in the drive-thru line.
“Someone else took the case over.” Harry looked in the rearview mirror. Confusion washed over Brayden’s face.
“Who? Aren’t you the only detective?”
“Feds.”
“Judge must got some serious pull for the big boys to come out and play,” Cedric said.
“Yeah, something like that,” Harry said, although he wasn’t sure this was true. The judge may know some people, but this was the Federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms they were talking about. He didn’t think Cam was sophisticated enough for anything the ATF would want to investigate him for. Harry ran down the list of crimes the Bureau dealt with on a regular basis—unlawful use, manufacture, and possession of firearms and explosives; arson; bombings; illegal alcohol and tobacco trafficking. The killings had not involved guns, arson, or alcohol. This made absolutely no sense. What could the ATF be after? Who was this guy? A serial arsonist and murderer? What had happened when he lived in California? And wasn’t it convenient Cam had skipped town? Of course, so had Needles. Damn. He may never know the answers now. They hadn’t even wanted his case files.
“Can I have an orange juice and a blueberry muffin, please?” Brayden said.
Harry rolled down the window to order through the speaker. “Is that all you want?”
“U
h huh, thanks,” Brayden said.
“I’ll take a sausage bagel and small mocha latte.” Cedric grinned. “Since you’re taking orders. Please.”
Harry finished ordering. “This one’s on me.” He fished his wallet from his back pocket. At the window, he paid then doled out the food. “We should get to the cabin around dinnertime, but if you get hungry before then, let me know.”
“Don’t worry, I will.” Cedric winked at Bray over his shoulder.
“Wasn’t talking to you,” Harry said.
* * *
Three and a half hours or more of driving and Harry needed a break. Sure, the cabin was only another ten miles, but his stomach was growling and his legs had started cramping fifteen minutes ago. The last time Harry had been at Natalie’s cabin was when they first got together about eight months ago.
He glanced in the mirror at Brayden and Cedric seated next to him. They were both asleep. Cedric leaned his head on the window, snoring lightly. Brayden had his body wedged into the corner of the back seat as much as the seatbelt allowed. When Harry pulled into the parking lot of a roadside diner, the car bounced over a bump in the pavement.
Cedric’s head banged the window. He rubbed his forehead. “Where are we?”
“Nifty Chef.” Harry parked the Buick.
“Nifty what?”
“Nifty Chef. Open your eyes. I’m hungry.”
Brayden yawned, “Hangry is more like it.”
“You are correct,” Cedric agreed. “He’s cantankerous when he hasn’t eaten.”
“Cantankerous, huh? Did you hurt yourself with that big word?”
“No. But this cane of mine might hurt you.” They all laughed while getting out of the car. Cedric moved slower and lagged behind Harry and Brayden toward the restaurant’s entrance.
The 50s style diner was long and narrow with two flat screens at either end. A counter along the back wall sat ten patrons. Brayden chose a booth to the right, halfway between the TV and the door. The tabletop sported white laminate with gold flecks and the cushions were a bright red. You could tell someone cared a great deal about the furnishings, everything was in good condition and near spotless. Harry remembered this place from before. The food was decent too.
The waitress came over and explained the specials to the guys.
“Is the chicken broiled or baked?” Cedric asked about the parmesan chicken.
“What’s the difference?” Harry smirked. Cooked in the oven was cooked in the oven.
“It’s fried,” the waitress told him.
“Ah, well then, I’ll have that.” Cedric winked at her and she blushed. He hadn’t meant it as a come-on though. Actually, he may have, knowing him.
She turned toward Brayden, sitting next to Cedric. “And what would you like, cutie pie?”
Cedric’s eyes widened. “Oooo, pie. That’s sounds goo—”
“Fish and chips,” Brayden said. “And a Coke. Please.”
“I’ll have the same.” Harry put all the menus behind the condiments caddy. “Thank you.”
“What kinds of pie do you have?” Cedric asked before the waitress could get away.
“Boston, Key lime, French silk, cherry, pecan, banana crème. Um…blueberry.”
“Any of those sound good to you, Bray?”
“Banana crème.”
“Excellent choice. We’ll have one after our dinner,” Cedric said, doing that winking thing again.
“You’re not having any?” Brayden asked.
“Yeah, one whole pie.”
The waitress smiled. “You want the whole pie?”
“Yeah, cut two slices and box the rest to go, is that cool?”
“Sure,” she said and slipped away from the table. Ten minutes later, they were eating and goofing around, teasing each other as guys do. Harry loved this time with only the three of them. As much as he hated leaving his cases outstanding and things uncertain with Natalie, he needed the break.
“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?” Brayden asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.”
“It’s a girl,” Cedric informed everyone.
“Why do you say that?” Brayden asked.
“Because he shoots girls.”
“Really, Ced?” Harry said. “What he means is—”
Brayden snorted. “I know what he means. I understand how the human body works, Harry.”
Harry rubbed his chin and muttered. “What are they teaching kids at school these days?”
“It’s not like when we was kids, is it?” Cedric commented.
“This is a different century,” Brayden laughed.
Harry laughed along with the kid. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me of how old we are.”
“At least you don’t need Viagra.”
“Yet,” Cedric added.
The news played on the TV. A mugshot of someone familiar to Harry was shown. He couldn’t quite place the man, maybe the hair was throwing him off. Straight brown hair hung around his face, a black eye swollen shut. Subtitles ran along the bottom of the screen. From what he read, the FBI and ATF were looking for someone wanted in connection with multiple murders, and an assault and battery. The suspect described as having extensive tattooing was last seen in Webster and was probably on foot or in a stolen vehicle. A picture of a similar type car flashed on the screen before coming back to an image of the suspect, although this time a different picture. And this time Harry recognized who was in the photo.
What in Christ? He coughed and spat his after-dinner coffee back into the mug.
“You all right?” Cedric asked.
Harry ignored him, his eyes glued to the TV. A man seated a few booths away, turned his head revealing a bit of his profile, appearing to look around the diner. His body stiffened and his movements became jerky, erratic. Abruptly, he stood up. The diner had another entrance at the end by the TV Harry had failed to notice earlier. Damn, he’d been so distracted with his own problems. He usually paid better attention to these things. Now everything faded away until he saw no one except the back of their primary suspect, Eric Lund. Harry knew with most certainty, the man was headed for the door, his only escape route. If the Feds resorted to airing his picture, they were desperate to find him. But how the hell did they miss Cam? Everything he’d witnessed and learned about the punk so far pointed to his possible guilt.
Harry was halfway to the door, following Eric, before realizing it, driven forward by instinct. By the time he was out the exit, he was running. His suspect rounded the corner of the building.
“Where are you going? Wait!” Brayden called, trailing after him. Harry’s protective nature slowed him down, no doubt allowing Eric more time to disappear into the woods behind the restaurant. He doubled back, making sure the kid stayed by the door, then took off again.
Harry glanced over his shoulder. Their waitress had come out of the diner and stood next to Brayden, who looked dejected. “Go back inside!” he barked. No time to agonize over how much of a disappointment he was to the kid.
“No. Wait!” Brayden’s voice sounded wounded. “We’re on vacation.”
Harry reached the corner of the building, glancing back one last time before he went around the Nifty Chef’s rear. Eric was gone.
Goddammit!
He jogged to the other side of the building. Still nothing.
Shit, shit, shit.
Where had he gone? Focusing on the tree line, Harry scanned the woods. With his cellphone in hand, he headed back to the diner. However, he couldn’t get a signal.
The waitress ran over to Harry and walked with him. “Your kid explained you were a cop, thanks for trying to chase that guy?” Harry didn’t respond, instead concentrated on willing more bars to appear on his phone. “He’s been coming in here every day for a while, never thought he’d belly up and run. Boss makes us pay for shortages. Like seriously, it’s not our fault when someone doesn’t pay.”
Harry stopped fiddling with his phone and stared at
her for a moment. What was she talking about? Shortages…? A suspect wanted for multiple murders just got away because he let him. Not on purpose, but did that really matter?
Cedric had joined Brayden outside by the door. He leaned heavily on his cane, slightly winded. “Thought you saw something, eh?”
“Something like that,” Harry grumbled.
“Something you saw that looked like Eric Lund?”
“Yeah. You saw the news inside there too?” Harry pointed to the diner.
“Nope, wasn’t paying attention.”
“Then why did you think I might’ve seen Eric Lund?”
“Because I know you. On the case or not, you’d be looking for your guy, even on vacation.”
“How did you know the Feds were looking for him if you weren’t watching in there?”
“You didn’t catch the news last night, did you? That’s why I figured you’d been taken off…”
Harry’s jaw tightened. “Get to the point, will ya?”
“That asshole’s picture was plastered on the news on every channel. Man, I thought you knew.”
What? “Uh uh.” How could Harry have missed all the news? For the first time since what felt like the beginning of time, he was out of the loop. Kicked out of the loop. Forcibly booted, slapped in the face, and told his case files weren’t good enough. No thank you, the agent’s words echoed in his skull. No thank you and fuck you and your worthless scraps of paper. Okay, the agent hadn’t said all that, but that was how it made him feel. Worthless.
“Oooh, I saw that and at first I thought that might be him, but he’s been coming in every day, said the waitress. “Nice guy usually. Today’s the first time he’s bailed on a check.”