Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold)

by Tee O'Fallon

  Cassie rolled her eyes at the irony. “It’s not that I don’t like them, I just don’t want to date one.” And it had been impossible to hide her intense disappointment that Mike was one.

  “Why not?” Rose raised her brows.

  “I went out with a couple of cops.” Try a dozen. “All they ever wanted to talk about was how many arrests they made in a week, like it was tied to the size of their manhood. Being ‘on-the-job’”—she hooked her fingers into quotation marks—“was the only thing in their world, like it was a living, breathing entity.”

  Cassie respected and admired her colleagues, especially Dom, and naturally, her brothers, but talking shop day-in and day-out drove her nuts.

  On a roll, she continued, “They treat women as if we’re helpless and incompetent, even when they’re off duty and we’re on a date. In their world, the only things a woman is good for are the three Ms: making dinner, making love, and then making themselves scarce.”

  “That’s some sweeping generalization,” Rose said.

  “What I mean is, maybe cops are great if you need to bust down a door or something, but as boyfriends, let alone husbands…” Again she rolled her eyes. “…they’re bad news.” Never, ever, again.

  “Maybe they’re not all like that,” Rose countered.

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. Besides, I’m pretty sure I pissed off the chief of police to the point where he hates me on sight.” Needing to change the subject, Cassie asked, “What were you and Mike chatting about before I walked up?”

  Rose gave her a sheepish look. “You might as well hear this bit of gossip directly from me, that way it’s not gossip. Jimmy Cannelone, Mike’s deputy chief, wants to go out with me.”

  “Ah.” Cassie pointed her finger at Rose. “So you don’t want to date a cop, either. Hypocrite.”

  “It’s not that at all.”

  “Then what don’t you like about him?” She darted her eyes to watch Mike pull away from the curb and drive off.

  When she directed her attention back to Rose, the woman’s expression was one of exasperation. “Do you think you could take your eyes off Mike long enough to focus on me for a minute?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry, boss.” Their sharp-witted conversations had become a favorite pastime for Cassie.

  “Good. Now, as I was saying… I do like him.” Rose frowned. “But he’s too young for me.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Thirty-seven.”

  “And how old are you? You can’t be more than forty-three.”

  “Hey!” Rose punched Cassie’s arm. “I’m forty-two, so give me a break.”

  “My point exactly.” Cassie held out her hands. “You don’t look it, and five years isn’t such a big age difference. He’s good-looking, too.” And he was. About six feet tall, brown curly hair, chocolate brown eyes. Hopewell Springs certainly didn’t lack hotties.

  Rose let out a sigh and got a dreamy look on her face. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Yeah, and he definitely likes you.” Jimmy had been to the Nest every morning for coffee over the last week while Mike had been away. Come to think of it, he had kind of been hanging on Rose’s every word. She should have picked up on that, what with her being a detective and all.

  “Plus,” Cassie went on, “he’s fun and easygoing, very un-coplike. Mike, on the other hand, might as well have a sign strapped to his chest declaring ‘I’m a hard-ass cop’ in bold letters and in fine print below it, ‘Don’t fuck with me.’ Those guys are as different as goat cheese and brie.” She rested her hand on Rose’s shoulder. “I think you should go for it. Life’s too short to have regrets. You should at least consider it.”

  “Fine,” Rose said, reluctantly smiling. “I’ll think about it.”

  One of Rose’s old-time customers handed her his tab, along with a ten-dollar bill. “Great pasta, Cassie.” The customer winked at her. “What kind of cheese did you use?”

  “Fontina and aged white cheddar.” Cassie beamed the man a hundred-watt smile. She’d received numerous compliments over the last week and each one filled her with an overwhelming sense of gratification. “Glad you liked it.”

  Rose rang in the tab, but the cash drawer didn’t budge. She whacked the side of the register with her hand several times before the drawer shot open. “Thanks, Earl,” she said, handing over the change. “See you next time.”

  “Count on it.” The man patted his overly large belly and went out the door.

  “Does the drawer always stick like that?” Cassie asked as she watched Rose massage the meaty part of her palm.

  “Once in a while. I should buy a new register, but this old one is such a part of the Nest’s historical ambience.” Rose ran her hand lovingly along the intricate brass engravings. “It was here when I bought the place, and I’d hate to get rid of it.”

  “It’s your hand.” Cassie shook her head. “When you have a minute, I need to go over the menu with you.” She headed to the back of the kitchen where she’d already begun a list of ingredients they would need for the week.

  Rose piped in from behind her, “Everything you’ve made, especially the chili, is a big hit and business has picked up already. And speaking of chili, Mike loved yours. The man is a chili aficionado and eats it every day for lunch.”

  She leveled her gaze at Rose. “Don’t start with me about him again.”

  “Okay, okay.” Rose threw up her hands. “I’m only saying there’s a chemistry there you can’t deny. Anyone can see it. Even Danny, right kid?”

  Danny paused in the middle of loading a dishwasher. “Right, Rose.”

  “See?”

  “Boss, get out of my kitchen. Chuck and I can make the menu without you.” Cassie crossed her arms, shaking her head as Rose laughed and sauntered out of the kitchen.

  Cassie turned back to her menu and ingredient list, but after a few minutes, threw down her pen. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the town’s sexy police chief off her mind. Even with his cop haircut, he had a handsome, rakish look, especially with that intriguing scar on his forehead. And the way those incredible blue eyes sizzled with sensuality when he got annoyed…

  The thought of razzing Mike made her grin. She’d thoroughly enjoyed sparring with him. He had as sharp a wit as any guy she’d met. Ironically, her own bubbly nature went right out the window around him, and she’d acted like a real bitch. When she’d risen from behind the counter to find him watching her, she’d been excited to see him again. But the minute she saw that navy blue uniform with the gold stripe emblazoned on each pant leg, the .45 caliber Glock on his duty belt, and the gleaming gold badge on his broad chest, her ecstasy plummeted twenty floors and crashed right into the basement.

  Aside from anxiety over the police chief’s suspicion, she’d laughed and smiled more since arriving in Hopewell Springs than she could ever remember. But with the contract out on her, she couldn’t afford to lose her edge.

  Going soft could get her killed.

  Chapter Four

  Scents of fresh marinara sauce, warm cheese, and herbs teased Cassie’s nose as she wrapped up the leftover roasted vegetable lasagna, although it was such a hit there wasn’t much left. The thought made her smile. As it had every day since she’d begun working at the Nest, a feeling of contentment spread like warm butter over her soul. Something she’d never had working for the NYPD.

  The antique bell over the Nest’s front door jangled. Cassie stared as the door slowly opened. The man entering wore a ball cap obscuring his face. Her grip on the spatula handle tightened. When he doffed his cap, she easily identified him as a town local and blew out a breath. Surveilling the door every time someone came in was becoming annoying and draining, but what if she was wrong and really had divulged her location to Dom over the bugged phone? With the likelihood there was a dirty cop in the precinct who might have overheard something, it wasn’t a risk worth taking.

  The last thing she wanted was to put the townspeople at risk because of her. They’d be totally
helpless against Rod Manici and his crew of slimy thugs, let alone a professional assassin. She loved it here in Hopewell Springs, but was she being selfish? Maybe she really should go into protective custody the way Dom and Gray wanted. But the more she thought about it, the more certain she was that she hadn’t shared her exact location over Dom’s desk line. Definitely not.

  The front door jangled again. This time the dark blue uniform was easily identifiable, but it was Jimmy, not Mike. She waved to him through the kitchen opening.

  “Hey, Cass,” he called out as he gave her his little-boy grin, displaying two of the cutest dimples. No wonder Rose was hot for him. The guy was a doll.

  Despite telling herself that she’d only been eyeing the door for contract assassins, she’d been hoping Mike would stop in so she could apologize for her rude behavior yesterday. Yeah, right. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. His dark blue eyes had been the last thing she remembered before falling asleep last night and the first thing she thought of when she woke up this morning.

  The TV on the wall of the dining room ended her daydreaming with a story on the upcoming senatorial elections in the fall. Cassie tried to catch what was being said about New Jersey’s frontrunners, Aaron Miller and Joshua Mosely, but couldn’t hear much over the sound of Rose whacking the side of the register again when it refused to open.

  From the corner of her eye, she caught Leo deep in conversation with Ginny. It was a ritual with those two before the Nest closed for the day. Leo was smitten, but he hadn’t asked the young waitress out yet.

  The bell over the front door jingled. Another uniform came through the door.

  Mike.

  “See anything you like?” Sue inclined her head to where Mike joined Jimmy at the far end of the counter. She smiled suggestively as she continued refilling salt and pepper shakers.

  “Very funny,” Cassie said, then busied herself helping Chuck fill orders. Through the kitchen opening, she alternately maintained a watchful eye on the front door and Mike as he ate a bowl of her chipotle chili. When two tall, swarthy men she didn’t recognize came in the door, she watched them as they passed Mike and Jimmy and headed to a table. Jimmy nodded to both men, clearly knowing them. When Cassie glanced back to Mike, she found herself pinned by his intense blue stare. He slowly shifted his gaze to the two men, then back to her. He raised an eyebrow and frowned.

  He knows something’s up, he just doesn’t know what.

  Briefly, she considered telling him who she was, but she hardly knew him and this was not the time to start trusting strangers. Mike might even boot her out of town, and she wondered if that wasn’t the wisest course of action. Still, she really ought to earn some brownie points and apologize about her bitch-on-wheels attitude yesterday.

  She headed to the counter, pausing when Mike put his arm around a little boy about eight years old. The boy gazed adoringly up at him while his mother, one of the few townspeople Cassie hadn’t met yet, headed to the cash register.

  “Great drawing, Joey.” Mike held up the thin newspaper the boy had doodled on.

  Intrigued, Cassie inched closer to peer over Mike’s shoulder. Even with all the rich food smells wafting through the air, she could make out the clean fresh scent of his aftershave.

  Joey had taken different colored crayons and added beards, mustaches, hair, and glasses to every face on the cover of the Hopewell Springs Gazette. The governor now looked like Groucho Marx, and Cassie loved the goofy way his doodling made the other politicians actually appear more sincere. Like Aaron Miller.

  Miller, New Jersey’s incumbent, hadn’t done a thing for the state except support higher taxes. Somehow the man had an impressive following, but Cassie never understood his appeal. With his fake smile and overly scripted speeches, he reminded her of one of those phony TV evangelists who eventually got arrested for embezzlement.

  Miller’s opponent, Joshua Mosely, would soon be receiving the governor of New York’s endorsement. Mosely was a self-made man, a foster kid who rose from nothing and created a construction empire. He had just the kind of business savvy New Jersey needed to yank it out of the fiscal crisis it was drowning in.

  “Is she still watching me?” Mike asked Joey loudly enough for Cassie to hear. He crouched down beside the little boy.

  Joey glanced up at Cassie and giggled. “Yup.”

  Uh-oh. Caught. Cassie couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

  “What’s she doing now?” Mike asked without turning to look at her.

  “She’s smiling. She usually looks like she’s mad at you.”

  Mike laughed. “You noticed that, too, huh?” Joey nodded, giggling again. Mike stood and dropped his hand to Joey’s head, mussing the boy’s hair. “Keep up the good work.”

  “I will, Chief Mike.” Joey skipped down the aisle to catch up to his mother.

  Cassie crossed her arms. “Never figured you to be such a softie with kids.”

  Mimicking her, Mike, too, crossed his arms. “Never figured you for such a softie with babies.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked.

  “The baby you were holding the other day.”

  “You saw that?” For a moment Cassie was stunned that he’d been watching her.

  “I see everything.” Mike lowered his voice. “Including the fact that you don’t always have a prickly disposition. I think I like this new and improved version of you.”

  “I don’t always have a prickly—” Cassie began to object, then stopped, realizing it was true. At least, with him it was. And did he just pay me a compliment? Or was that a roundabout insult?

  Mike leaned down to whisper in her ear. His breath was warm and made her neck tingle. “You really don’t like cops, do you?”

  Cassie uncrossed her arms. “I never said that.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s in your eyes, your words, your tone. Lady, your body language screams cop-hater.”

  “It’s not that at all.” Cassie glanced around, grateful they were standing in a fairly empty section of the dining room. “If you must know, I dated one once.”

  “I take it things didn’t go so well.”

  “No,” she admitted, surprised to find herself confiding in Mike. “They didn’t.”

  “What happened?”

  “If you must know,” Cassie began.

  “I must.” Mike’s smile was wicked handsome. “I’m on the edge of my seat.”

  “You’re standing.”

  “Figure of speech. Please, go on.”

  What the hell?

  “As I was saying, if you must know, on our first—and only—date, all he talked about was his job prowess and how any woman he dated better be prepared to jump the second he snapped his chauvinistic fingers. The shame of it was, I left a perfectly good apple martini on the table when I bolted from the restaurant.”

  Mike snorted. “Any chance you’re stereotyping all cops because of one jerk?” His lips lifted into a hesitant smile.

  “Funny, that’s pretty much what Rose said. Although I think my boss has a soft spot where you’re concerned.”

  Mike tipped his head to where Jimmy sat. “Actually, I think she has a soft spot for my deputy.”

  “Him, too.” Cassie shook her head. “My boss loves cops.”

  “And you don’t.” He moved into her personal space until he was inches from her.

  “Nope.” Cassie glared up at him, narrowing her eyes. She refused to be intimidated by his nearness. Or how good he smelled. I will not fall into the cop-trap again. Just because this one was charming and knew how to push all her buttons was no reason to alter her perception.

  “You might consider listening to your boss. She’s a wise woman.” Mike winked at her as he headed for the end of the counter where Jimmy sat eyeing them with interest.

  As Cassie headed back toward the kitchen, she paused to wipe down the far end of the counter. When the doorbell jangled, she looked up to see Joey and his mother head out the door. Her mind spun with confl
icting thoughts.

  Mike did have some unexpected checks in the plus column, like his natural way with people, including kids. But he was still a cop, right down to the cellular level. Another plus for the town, just not for her.

  Cassie didn’t doubt Mike’s professional abilities for a second, and she admired that. From a professional perspective, that was. Simmering beneath that charming surface was an experienced street cop. It was the way he took in everything around him, even when he looked you straight in the eye. His demeanor and physical stance were relaxed, but he was in a constant state of readiness and poised for action. She pitied anyone who got on Mike’s bad side.

  “That’s Joey and his mom, Abby Johnson,” Rose said from behind her. “Joey’s father is serving in the Middle East and hasn’t been home in six months. Mike watches out for the boy, helps Abby around the house. She’s six months pregnant and can use all the help she can get, poor thing.”

  Cassie watched Abby through the window as she helped Joey into the backseat then waddled slightly as she rounded the car and hauled herself into the driver’s seat. An unexpected warm feeling came over her. What would it be like to be pregnant? To have someone like Mike doting on her, massaging her aching feet, running out at midnight to get pickles and pistachio ice cream to satisfy her hormonal cravings? She couldn’t help but look at the subject of her thoughts as he checked out a menu.

  Keep things in perspective. You so don’t need this right now.

  “Don’t you have to get back into the kitchen?” Rose prodded. “Still a few customers left to feed.”

  “What?” Cassie was barely paying attention, her thoughts solely on Mike.

  “The kitchen. You know, that little room in the back where the cooking is done?” Her tone was teasing as she looked from Cassie to Mike, who was speaking into the microphone on his lapel.

  A moment later, he and Jimmy rushed out the door, leaving Cassie wondering what kind of call they were on. A traffic accident? A domestic? Could be any one of a number of things that used to get her heart racing but didn’t now. She continued watching Mike as he hustled to his truck, then sped away, red and blue strobes flashing.