by BJ Bentley
“You know me.” She laughed nervously. “I always do too much.”
I frowned. “I wasn’t criticizing you, Max,” I said gently. “I think it’s admirable the way you look out for everyone, including me.”
“Mm. Thanks. But if I’m being honest, I have an ulterior motive for sharing my dinner with you.”
I smiled at her sheepish admission. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“Well… You probably know that I don’t have…anybody…I mean, I have friends at school, of course. And you. But, no family,” she finished so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.
I blinked, at a loss as to where she was going. “Okay?” I prompted.
“I have a showing in a couple of weeks. It’s a big project that has taken me all semester, and it’s a huge part of my final grade…”
“Max?”
She huffed out a breath and spewed, “Would you please come and see it and maybe just offer me some moral support?” like it was all one word. “You don’t have to stay long, I promise! Just come and see it and say hi. There will be snacks,” she offered up as incentive.
“Well,” I drawled. “I never say no to snacks,” I deadpanned. “Of course, I’ll come to your showing.”
Her wide eyes took in my smile and with a squeal, she threw her arms around my neck. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Poppy!”
Laughing, I returned her hug, though maybe not quite as enthusiastically. “Anytime, Max.”
Releasing me and moving toward the door in an awkward yet adorable side step, she called, “I’m going to bake you the biggest, most scrumptious cake!”
I waved her off, laughing again. “Go home and relax, Max! And text me the details of your showing!”
“Will do!” she returned just before shutting the door behind her and leaving me to gorge myself on the most delectable dinner I’d ever had.
Maxie and her culinary skills never disappointed.
7
Vance
I grabbed two coffees and two blueberry muffins from The Beat on my way to the station. What should have been a quick stop turned out to be an ambush.
“How’s our girl?”
I glanced behind me at Sean McCarthy’s inquiry. His face was the kind of haggard that came from too many years on the force. He’d seen too much, fought too hard, and his heart and soul had paid the price. His eyes, however, they were as sharp as they’d ever been. Sean missed nothing.
“Our girl?” I returned.
Sean’s eyes narrowed. “Poppy. You keepin’ an eye on her?”
I should have expected this. Not only was Sean McCarthy a forty-year veteran of Aspen Falls PD, he’d also been Fred Leighton’s partner. From what I understood, he was like an uncle to Poppy and her brother, so it was no surprise that he was asking after her. What did surprise me was that it had taken this long. It was no secret that the male-dominated force, particularly those of the older generation, didn’t much like the idea of female cops. Not because they didn’t think women couldn’t do the job, but because they were a bunch of testosterone-fueled, overbearing alpha males. It wasn’t a question of capability. As sexist as it was, a woman was to be protected at all costs, no matter who she was.
But especially the daughter of a fellow cop.
I ignored my own protective instincts and turned to face Sean. “Poppy is more than capable of taking care of herself.”
“Not what I asked you.”
“Don’t use your cop voice with me, Sean, I’m not intimidated by it.”
One bushy eyebrow raised and his lips twitched. “Hadn’t realized I was. Sorry, Brody. Force of habit.”
I sighed. Sure, it was. I needed to nip this in the bud so I could get to work. And get to Poppy. “Look, Sean, I know who she is to you and who you are to her. You know, I’m sure, like everybody else knows, I idolized Fred Leighton. Aside from the fact that Poppy is Poppy, she’s also Fred’s daughter, and so you also know that I’d never let anything happen to her.”
“You and I both know, son, that’s not a promise you can make. Not in our line of work.” He said what he said with all due respect, and he wasn’t wrong, but I still had every intention of keeping that promise.
“I know that I can try. I know that if, God forbid, the day comes when the bullets start flying, and it’s me or Poppy, it’ll be me the coroner will have to scrape up off the pavement from the bullet holes in my chest.”
Sean’s gaze was unwavering, his expression unchanged. So I continued.
“You know what Fred did for me. You know because you were his partner. And you know that with him gone, this is the only way I can repay that debt. So, I vow to you, so long as Poppy Leighton is working at Aspen Falls PD, whether she’s my responsibility or not, I will always have her back.”
Sean’s haggard face morphed when his lips split into a grin. “Knew I liked you, Brody.” He chuckled as he raised his coffee cup to his mouth and gulped back the bitter brew. “Now, if you’re finished giving me that melodramatic yet moving speech, you better get to the station. You’re gonna be late.”
It was my turn to narrow my eyes. I’d meant everything I’d just said, but having said it out loud like that, I felt foolish. “Whatever, old man,” I muttered, picking up my paper bag of muffins and drink carrier and headed into work.
Sean’s laughter drowned out the sound of the bell as it chimed over the door on my way out.
By some stroke of luck, I made it to work five minutes early. But not early enough to beat Poppy there, it seemed. The morning sun was shining in the window, glinting off her gold hair and illuminating her silhouette like a visible aura. And suddenly, my breakfast offering seemed inadequate. I wanted to take her out to dinner. Feed her the finest meal-- well, the finest meal I could afford on a cop’s salary, anyway.
I nearly dropped the muffins, which were probably stale anyway, on Heath’s desk as I passed it, when I spotted the Delilah’s box sitting on my desk. Okay, so all the cops in Aspen Falls were loyal to The Beat. It was our place. But nobody, and I mean nobody, turned down a baked good of any kind from Delilah’s. Where The Beat had burned coffee and dry muffins, Delilah Pettibone, the owner of Delilah’s, specialized in sugary confections that could make an angel weep. More than that, they could make the devil turn over his pitchfork in favor of a halo.
“Morning,” I greeted Poppy, though my eyes were still glued to the bubblegum pink pastry box. “What’s this?”
“Don’t eat those!” she snapped, reaching over her desk and snatching the box out of my reach.
I was pretty sure my frown was about to become permanent. “What the hell, rookie? You can’t bring Delilah’s in here, set them on my desk, and then refuse me. That’s just rude.”
“I only set them on your desk because the vultures were circling.” Her eyes darted around the room, and I couldn’t help a small smile.
“So, in other words, you put them on my desk because they were safe there.”
“Our fellow officers seem to think that touching anything on your desk is forbidden,” she snarked.
“Well, nobody likes to court a bullet to the ass. Now, can I please have one of those?”
“No.” She set the box down in front of her, curling herself around it like she would defend it with her life. She might have to. “I have a friend stopping by this morning, and a girl needs a healthy dose of high-quality carbs to get through serious stuff.”
I raised a brow. “You got a friend who’s going through serious stuff?”
“Yes. But don’t worry, I can handle it.”
Okay, now my frown was back in place. “Do you need help?”
“What did I just say?”
I held my hands up in supplication, ready to offer an apology, but Poppy’s attention was no longer on me.
“Hey, you made it.” She smiled, and I turned to see who the lucky son of a bitch was to be on the receiving end of that look.
“Told you I’d be here.” A tall, beautiful black woman
wearing a red sheath dress and black heels stood next to my desk smiling at Poppy. “Oh, my god, is that a Delilah’s box?” she breathed, her eyes widening slightly.
Poppy’s smile broadened. “Only the best for the best.”
The other woman’s face softened. “I don’t deserve you, Pop.”
Poppy rolled her eyes and waved the woman over. “Come over here, girl. Let’s get this done.”
The two of them sat, their heads together, talking quietly. As casually as I could, I rolled my chair closer to Poppy’s desk trying to hear what they were saying. Poppy was jotting notes on a legal pad, but I wasn’t close enough to read it.
“Can I help you with something?” Poppy sighed, and my eyes flicked to her golden ones which were starting to turn a dangerously sexy shade of green.
“No. Can I help you with something?” I flashed a smile in her friend’s direction.
“No,” she drawled. “Like I said, I can handle this.”
“Is this your mentor?” the other woman interjected.
“Hi. Detective Vance Brody,” I blurted before Poppy had a chance to shut me down.
“Detective Brody, I’m Maya. Maya Powell.”
I gripped the woman’s hand and gave a slight, reassuring squeeze. “It’s nice to meet you Maya. Please, let me know if there’s anything Officer Leighton can’t help you with.”
“Are you done?” Poppy griped.
I smiled at her and took my seat, folding my hands over my abs and leaning back in my chair like I hadn’t a care in the world. “Carry on.”
I thought for sure she’d go back to ignoring me and resume her conversation with Maya, but Poppy surprised me with her next words. “Actually, I’m going to need your help after all.”
It looked like it pained her to admit it, and I tried not to let that sting. “Anything,” I offered, maybe a bit too eagerly, sitting forward so she had my full attention.
Poppy looked between Maya and myself. Maya’s expression clouded with confusion, but mine, I was sure, was attentive with open curiosity. “Maya would like to lodge a formal complaint,” she said, her voice low. “Against one of us.”
“One of us?”
“A cop.”
My body strung tight, every bit of the casual observer gone. A complaint against a police officer was not something that was welcome, but it was something that was taken seriously. “Tell me,” I demanded.
“Not here,” Poppy hissed.
Maya remained silent, though her complexion had paled.
“Fine,” I agreed. “Follow me.” I led the women down the hallway to one of the interview rooms. I made sure the microphones and cameras were off and locked the door behind Poppy, the last one to enter the room. I motioned for them both to sit before taking a seat myself. Poppy clutched her legal pad to her chest and Maya nibbled on a donut she’d apparently plucked from the box before following me. I glanced from the donut to her face. “That’s just cruel, you know?”
Maya smirked. “A girl needs high-quality carbs when she’s going through shit.”
“So I’ve been told,” I grumbled. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”
My blood began to simmer as Poppy told me the story of Maya’s previous trip to the police station. It was boiling by the time she’d finished.
“I’ll have the fucker’s dick on a platter when I’m done with him,” I seethed.
“Calm down,” Poppy chided. “We have to do this by the book.”
My fingers curled into fists just before I slammed them down on the table, causing Maya to jolt. “Sorry,” I muttered, shooting an apologetic glance in her direction.
“Oh, don’t be. The alpha tendencies are hot.”
I cracked a reluctant smile as she fanned herself.
Poppy, on the other hand, was neither bothered nor impressed by my outburst. “Vance, I’m aware of your reputation for bending the rules, but accusing a police officer of mishandling a case is serious as a heart attack, and we need the captain to treat it that way. If you go off half-cocked and compromise the case in any way, it could get tossed. We can’t let that happen.”
“Poppy Leighton, voice of reason,” I muttered. “Just like your old man.”
“What?” she gasped. “What did you just say?”
“I said you’re just like your father.”
“You knew my father?” Her golden eyes flashed green again, not with anger, but with grief.
I shook those thoughts off, veering us back onto the topic at hand. “I won’t go off half-cocked,” I promised. At least not on this particular detail. Though, I added another name to my list of assholes to talk to.
Poppy relaxed. “Thank you.”
I tipped my chin. “Maya, is there anything else you’d like to add to your official statement?”
She thought for a moment before shaking her head. “I think we covered it all.”
“What about the original complaint? The one that this officer failed to follow up on?”
“What about it?” Maya asked.
“Well, I could pull up the file and read it for myself, but I’d rather hear it from you, if you don’t mind.”
Maya and Poppy exchanged a glance, and Poppy gave her friend a nod.
Maya set the donut down on a napkin and cleared her throat. “Six months ago, I’d gone out to this little dive bar on Temple Street. Mooney’s. I met a man there who didn’t like,” she held up her fingers to signal air quotes, “my kind.”
“So, he got violent because you’re black?”
Maya’s half grin was sad. “No, Detective. He got violent because the day I was born, I was declared to be male.”
“You’re a woman,” I felt compelled to point out the obvious.
“I am.”
“And he put his hands on you?” I thought my blood was boiling before. Now, it was lava, and I was feeling the urge to burn the whole town to the ground.
Maya blinked. “He did,” she confirmed, her voice soft and raspy.
“Okay. Well, no offense, Maya, please don’t take this the wrong way, but…” I flicked my gaze to Poppy. “Congratulations, rookie, you just scored yourself another case.”
8
Poppy
“Seriously, Ashley-girl, you should have seen the way he pounded his fists into the table.” Maya fanned herself again, for the third time since starting this story.
“Maya, I think Ashley’s heard enough.”
“No such thing!” Maya declared.
“I don’t mind,” Ashley piped up, smiling at me.
“I do,” I grumbled.
“We can tell,” Maya laughed. “Pop, when was the last time a man got you, Perfectionist Poppy, all hot and bothered?”
I frowned. I hated that stupid nickname. I wasn’t a perfectionist. I didn’t need to be perfect; I just wanted to be my best. There was a distinct difference. And I didn’t expect perfection in others. I had high standards, but I wasn’t unforgiving. I also frowned because I didn’t know the answer to the question Maya had posed. “I don’t know.” I looked down into my barely touched glass of merlot, my only glass for the evening since I was driving, and caught sight of my reflection in the mirrored surface of the deep red liquid. I hadn’t put much effort into my appearance, even for a girls night. My straight, blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. I had mascara on my lashes but no eyeshadow or liner. Utilitarian lip balm coated my lips instead of lipstick or gloss. I was okay with being a plain Jane, but now I wondered if maybe I should do something other than the bare minimum.
Suddenly, what Maya was really asking finally registered. My head snapped up. “I’m not hot and bothered.”
Maya and Ashley both laughed outright.
“Oh, girl, you so totally are!” Maya exclaimed with Ashley nodding her agreement.
“I think I need to see for myself just how well Detective Vance Brody fills out those jeans of his,” Ashley teased.
“You both suck.”
“Speaking of sucking, I would not mind
getting my mouth on that,” Maya murmured. “Malone brothers, twelve o’clock.”
Ashley and I swiveled our heads and drank in the sight of three extremely gorgeous men, obviously related, taking their respective seats around one of the tables. The three of us sighed our appreciation as one of the brothers --Grady, I thought-- raised one chiseled arm to signal a waitress.
“We should go say hello.”
I looked at Maya like she’d grown a second or maybe a third head. “We absolutely should not.”
“Sure we should. Didn’t you say your brother knows them?”
I rolled my eyes. “Heath knows Grant from the academy, but I don’t know him, and we are not going over there.”
“I definitely don’t want to go over there,” Ashley interjected quietly. Ever since her assault, Ashley’d had trouble with men. She wasn’t comfortable around them, and I knew that bothered her. Logically, she knew that not every man she encountered was a snake in the grass, but she had trouble controlling her knee-jerk reaction to being near them. Therapy was helping, but it was a slow process.
“If you want to stay here, we’ll stay here,” I assured her.
“Yeah,” Maya agreed. “Besides, admiring them from afar is where it’s at. Actually meeting them would totally kill the fantasy I have playing on a loop in my head right now.”
“Perv,” Ashley accused.
Maya narrowed her gaze. “Like you’re not thinking the same things,” she scoffed.
Ashley smirked. “Mine’s probably dirtier.”
“Ha! What about you, Pop? How kinky are your fantasies about your new mentor?”
“Maya,” I warned.
She only quirked an eyebrow in response.
“He does have a spectacular butt,” I begrudgingly admitted.
“Would you peg it?”
“Maya!”
All three of us laughed, drawing all kinds of attention from around the room. Even the Malone brothers glanced our way.
