Reel Sharpe

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Reel Sharpe Page 27

by Jenna Baker


  *****

  A while later we all headed out. It was around seven and the sun was setting. I had been thinking about Kitt, and there was something that was bothering me. I wanted to talk to Mac about it, but I didn’t want Reid or Foxy to see me.

  “Okay, well, good work, everyone. We will see you in the morning,” I said. I turned and headed towards Mac’s car. “I’ll ride with you, Mac.”

  “Goodnight, guys,” Mac said. Mac and Manny walked over to the SUV while Reid and Foxy headed over to their car.

  Once we were in the car, Mac turned on the ignition. I sat in the front next to him with Manny in the back. I placed my hand over his.

  “Wait.” I was about to fill Mac in on my premonition when I remembered the stern warning Reid had given me. He told me if I meddled one more time I would be off the case. I shook my head and shut my mouth. I knew I couldn’t do anything more behind Reid’s back.

  “What?” Mac asked.

  “Never mind, I need to talk to Reid.” I opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car.

  “Detective Reid?” I called out, trying to catch him before he drove off.

  To my surprise, he was waiting for me. “Came to your senses?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “By now I can read you pretty well, Sharpe. You know something that you’re not sharing.”

  I smiled – he was right. “There’s something that Kitt said that’s been bothering me.”

  “I’m listening,” Reid said.

  “Do you remember on the tape how I told Kitt that I liked speed and he said I should see him off the track?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m just wondering if there is another place he races that might give us some clues.”

  Reid stared at me, shaking his head. “This is the most effort I have ever put into a hit-and-run, I want you to know that.”

  “It’s not a hit-and-run. We both know that,” I said.

  Foxy was staring at us. “Would you two just do it and get it over with!”

  I thought the comment was ill-timed as we were discussing a murder, but I had learned that Foxy lacked a certain amount of decorum.

  Reid turned to Foxy. “Why don’t you go home to your wife – you’re getting punchy. I’ll look into this.”

  “Hey, man, we’re a team here,” Foxy complained.

  “I know, but this is probably a bust anyway. I’ll call you if there’s anything to it.”

  “Mac can give you a ride,” I volunteered.

  Foxy looked at me and then Reid. “I know what this is really about. Don’t leave any bodily fluids in the back of the car, okay?”

  I rolled my eyes, and Foxy headed towards Mac and Manny. I followed after him and grabbed the PD-150 plus an extra battery and cassette from the trunk. Foxy jumped in the front seat.

  Mac turned to me. “Sharpe – what’s going on?”

  “Nothing, Mac, I’m just gonna ride home with Reid.”

  “Are you shooting something?” Mac asked, looking at my camera.

  “Oh man, you’re gonna videotape it? Kinky, Sharpe,” Foxy said.

  I knew his ego was a little bruised, so I let him have his fun with me. “Mac – it’s just a precautionary measure. I’ll see you guys in the morning, okay?” I closed the trunk and waved as Mac pulled the car away.

  I returned to Reid holding my equipment. Reid took it from my hands and placed it on the back seat.

  “Don’t let him upset you with that bullshit about us screwing around, okay?” Reid said.

  “Oh, I know. He’s just blowing hot air anyway.”

  “Exactly.” Reid said and held open the passenger door for me.

  “Thanks,” I said, jumping in the passenger seat.

  Inside Reid cranked up the engine and called dispatch to get Kitt’s address. He wrote it down on a piece of paper and thanked them.

  “This is my first stakeout,” I said. “Thanks for letting me come along.”

  “You’re welcome. Don’t make me regret it.” Reid put the car in reverse, and we pulled out of the parking lot.

  “So should we go to the store or something?” I asked. “On stakeouts you eat junk food and drink coffee, right?”

  “You watch too many movies,” Reid said.

  “Well, we have to have something!” I said, sounding a little desperate. I had been eating nonstop all day, and I wasn’t going to stop now. I was exhausted and my body needed the fuel.

  “I’ll tell you what – it’s only seven. We have a few hours. Why don’t I take you home so you can change and get something to eat?”

  I looked down at my t-shirt and figured it would probably be a good idea to put long sleeves on. It might get cold. Plus I should probably dress in all black, in case we needed to hide in the darkness.

  We drove to my place and Reid pulled up front. “I’ll come back and get you in an hour,” he said.

  “You’re gonna drive to Malibu? That’s crazy. Why don’t you just come inside? I can make us something for dinner.”

  “No, I don’t want to impose.”

  “It would just be microwave pizza or something, Reid. It’s not a big deal.”

  He finally relented and parked in front of a hydrant on the street. “That’s abuse of power, Detective,” I told him. “What if there’s a fire?” Reid shrugged nonchalantly and stepped out of the car.

  In the lobby I noticed that the outdoor chandelier needed some polishing and that some of the floor tiles were cracked. I would have to write a note to maintenance about this.

  “Swanky, eh?” I said.

  “Maybe a fire wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” Reid quipped.

  “I grew up in a fancy house too, you know,” I said, trying to justify my meager surroundings.

  “I know that, Sharpe – I was there today.”

  “I’m just saying, you shouldn’t judge me just because I live in the Valley.”

  Reid smiled. “Sharpe, relax.”

  We walked down an interior hallway and up to my apartment. I put the key in the door while visualizing the room – checking for dirty underwear or embarrassing photos that might be lying around.

  I opened the door and quickly scanned the room. Everything looked okay, but I knew I wanted to shut the bedroom door. I had left in a whirlwind this morning between the freezing bath and my desperate need to look at that tape and I knew my room was a disaster.

  “Come in,” I said to Reid. I dropped my purse on the dining room table then glided over to my bedroom door to close it. “You can throw your jacket on the table if you want.”

  Reid took his leather jacket off and hung it on the back of one of my chairs. Underneath, his black t-shirt clung to his chest, and his jeans fit snug and tight in the back. I could tell he worked out, and I could also tell why women seemed to gravitate towards him – he definitely projected the tough cop image.

  “Would you like something to drink?” I asked Reid, breezing past him into the kitchen.

  Reid followed me and sat on one of the bar stools at my kitchen counter. “Uh, whatever you’re having.”

  I opened the fridge. “I have beer – do you want that? I know we’re on duty tonight.”

  “Sure, one beer won’t hurt,” Reid said.

  I knew he could handle it – for myself, I wasn’t sure. I was exhausted and a beer would only add to that, but maybe I needed it to relax.

  Having Reid in my apartment was a little strange and a little awkward. I mean, wasn’t this the guy who treated me like garbage the first few days? Wasn’t this the guy I called an asshole in the parking lot and who told me I was something that rhymes with hitch? He still intimidated me, home turf or not. Plus with all these rumors Foxy had started about me having a thing for Reid, I didn’t know how to act around him anymore. It was easier when I hated him. I decided to take the beer – he was driving anyway.

  I popped open two bottles and handed him one.

  “Thanks,” Reid said and took a long pull from the bottle.
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  I opened the freezer and rummaged around, not finding much. “I haven’t had a chance to go shopping,” I said. “I have some frozen chicken, but I think that will take too long.” I looked in the fridge. I had a couple of avocados floating around but I felt silly offering them as a meal. “Why don’t I just order pizza?” I said finally.

  Reid shrugged and I dialed. We really didn’t have pizza parlors in Los Angeles, just chains. I liked my pizza with peppers and onions and Reid liked the meat-lovers, so we got it half and half. Once that was out of the way, I fidgeting around the kitchen a bit, not really sure what I was doing. Reid watched me calmly. I noticed the display on my phone said that I had a message so I decided to check it.

  I rolled my eyes as I listened to a long-winded message from my sister. I moved my hand into the shape of a duck’s beak and opened and closed it to signify that the message was going on and on. Finally, it ended, and I pressed delete.

  “My sister,” I explained. “I have my final dress fitting tomorrow and she wanted to make sure I didn’t forget.”

  “Did you?” Reid asked.

  “Kinda,” I said, smiling. “I’m just over this stupid wedding, you know? Ginny is trying to pull this bridezilla crap with me, but it doesn’t work because I don’t care about pleasing her. I’m not sure why she doesn’t get that.”

  “I take it you don’t approve of Bob?” Reid asked.

  “He’s okay – just a pain in the ass. He’s successful and that’s important to Ginny.”

  “He’s an entertainment lawyer, right?”

  I nodded.

  “He fits the mold – late thirties, balding, works eighty-hour weeks.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “But that also describes half the men in this town. The other half are gay, and therein lies the problem.”

  “Is that why you’re reduced to throwing yourself at potential convicts?”

  I smiled and suddenly realized I was leaning on my elbows about eight inches from him. I stood up and took a swig of my beer. “We’re not still talking about that, are we?”

  “Honey, we’re gonna be talking about that as long as I know you.”

  “It’s okay, I’m used to abuse. I can take it,” I countered. “But don’t push me too hard. I’ve already discovered one skeleton in your closet – there must be more.”

  “Yes, you have a need to be nosy. I’d probably be sleeping right now if you hadn’t stepped in.”

  “If sleep is your goal, you picked the wrong profession.”

  “Yes, I realized that a little too late,” Reid said.

  “I love sleep, but I don’t get it either. These shows are go, go, go and then after three months or five months I’m out of a job. I should sleep on my downtime, but I’m too busy scrambling to find the next gig before someone else takes it.”

  “Doesn’t sound like good job security.”

  “There’s no job security. That is why I live here – unemployment can cover the rent,” I explained.

  Reid looked around. “This is a nice place, it’s large. A place like this in Malibu would rent for three thousand a month.”

  “Where do you live exactly? I mean, can you afford a place out there on your salary?”

  Reid turned his eyes to me and raised an eyebrow. I bit my lip.

  “Sorry, there I go saying too much again.”

  “That’s okay – I like that about you,” Reid said, and I felt my heart jump just a little. “Besides, I never said I lived in Malibu, you just assumed I did.”

  “You told me you grew up there.”

  “I did, and my parents still live out there, but I live in Valley Village.”

  I punched Reid in the arm. “You jerk! You let me apologize for this place and you live in the Valley too? You’re like one town over!”

  Reid smiled. “I cashed out some of my inheritance for the down payment. I have a little two bedroom house off Magnolia.”

  I felt a little silly, but somehow more at ease knowing I wasn’t dealing with a total elitist. I had him pegged as a spoiled rich kid who wanted to play with guns and act like a big shot, but now I wasn’t so sure.

  “Wait a minute, you came over here because you didn’t want to drive all the way home. Are you telling me your home was five minutes away?” I asked.

  Reid smiled. “I didn’t have anything in my fridge either.”

  I stared at him for a minute, sizing him up. He shifted in his seat. Suddenly, the phone rang. I picked it up and buzzed in the delivery man. “Saved by the bell,” I said to Reid.

  The pizza was delicious. It came with this greasy butter garlic dip that probably had about a million calories per dip, but it was so worth it. We dined on the couch while watching LA Incorporated. My mom was retired, but I was still a loyal fan of the show, and both Reid and I were totally out of touch with Hollywood gossip. Cop, TV producer, it didn’t matter – you needed to know what was going on.

  There was a story about a young Hollywood actress who allegedly got into a fistfight with her manager. She had been arrested, and her mug shot was splashed across the television.

  “Bet the uniform who picked her up got a pretty penny for turning this story over to the networks,” Reid said.

  “Do they really do that? Isn’t that unethical?” I asked.

  “Are you really asking me that? Didn’t you make a woman do a second take because you didn’t like the way she reacted to her son’s death on camera?”

  I smiled – he got me there. “When you say it like that, you make it sound terrible.”

  “It is!” Reid said. “I still can’t believe I’m going along with this whole thing.”

  On TV the correspondent spoke to the camera. “There’s a real life detective show hitting the airways this month called Murder Live!”

  I jumped up. “Oh! Reid – check it out.”

  Reid was on his feet too and we were both watching intently. Lenny came on the screen. “That’s my boss!” I said.

  “We’ve got some great stories – a gang-related murder, a drug bust and a suspicious hit-and-run,” Lenny said on camera.

  “Whoa that’s our story!” I proclaimed. “This is exciting.”

  “Oh man, this is for real, isn’t it?” Reid said. “I kept hoping no one would watch.”

  “Face it, you’re famous,” I said, watching Reid blush.

  This was a little weird. I felt like we were on a date, and I was kind of having a good time. I needed to remind myself that this was not a date, this was work and my career was on the line if I didn’t get this story. Plus this guy was a playboy, and if I’d learned anything from Kitt, it was that you should not go after the players – you always lose.

 

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