He gave me an innocent, charming smile, which reminded me why he was considered one of the ladies men of the station, the boy was pretty. “Oh, I'm sorry. Force of habit I guess.”
Ok, he was funny, and I almost snorted. Instead, I raised my chin imperiously and shoved his shoulder lightly and marched back to the stairs with Calvin. I made a high pitched squeak when I tripped on the first step as I said, “I'm not under arrest, thank you very much.”
He caught up as I tried to keep my dignity by pretending these pesky air molecules didn't keep tripping me at the most inopportune moments. He took Calvin's leash from me as he said, “This time.” Then he retreated up the stairs with my fluffy minion.
The brat.
I smiled at his back and scurried up after them.
He unclipped Cal at the top of the stairs and handed me the leash as we watched the furry boy go out in search of some good lovin' from the few detectives in their cubicles. He was such a touch slut, but not even these grumpy detectives could resist him. I swear he was the mascot here now. Though Jane assures me that that position is taken by me and my fresh baked cookies.
I glanced around to see it was just a skeleton crew as most people were with their families for Christmas.
Jorge walked me to Jane's desk, then looked down at his uniform with a sour face. “I'm going to go get cleaned up, and a fresh uniform put on.”
I was mortified. I screwed up my face in apology, and offered, “I'm so sorry.”
He waved me off and then smirked as he pointed out, “You might want to freshen up yourself before your girl gets here. Can I bring you anything to drink or eat?”
I gave him a vicious nose crinkle as bile rose. “Thanks, but no. I'm not particularly hungry after seeing... that poor woman.”
He nodded seriously, all the humor gone from his face. “Of course.” Then he was gone.
Freshen up? How bad could it be? I picked up the framed picture of my mug shots from Jane's desk, which matched the one on our beside table and looked at my reflection in the glass. “Gack!” I looked like I had been through a war. Tangled hair, smeared makeup and I was covered in what looked like a white powder. How did they let me walk around looking like this in public?
I scurried toward the bathroom, calling out to the new hard-edged detective who was almost turning herself inside out as she ruffled Calvin's belly he exposed to her as he squirmed cutely on his back, “Can you watch Cal while I clean up, Beth?”
She looked up at me and did a double-take. Yeah, scary looking Finnegan is scary. “Of course, Miss May.”
I clenched my fists and marched stiltedly to the locker rooms. I've told the transferred detective a dozen times to call me Finnegan, but she was always so proper. She sort of reminded me of how Jane spoke with me the first couple days I knew her. I understood part of it that the women had to work twice as hard, be twice as professional, and twice as cold as their male counterparts in this testosterone-driven occupation. But they were people too, I just wish others would acknowledge that.
Once I got to the locker rooms, I shielded my eyes as I made it to the restroom, hearing a couple chuckles. When the station was built fifty years ago, they hadn't thought of the need for separate women's locker rooms and showers. They are co-ed here, but that didn't mean I needed to see 'everything.'
I flipped around the sign over the “Restroom” sign which read, “Occupied by the feminine persuasion, enter and get your balls ripped off.” The writing looked suspiciously like Jane's.
I called out as I cracked the door open and called out, “Knock knock.” When nobody responded I slipped in and locked the door behind me.
I turned to the mirror and... by all that is fluffy and good in the world, Jane saw me like this? I started running water in the sink as I took out my makeup and hairbrush and prepared to go to battle.
Chapter 6 – Oh Fin
I was presentable, except for my clothes, when Jane arrived back at the station an hour later. After looking me over one more time and giving me a quick peck on the lips, she was all professional and cop-ish with her detective-y ways. I walked her through everything I had touched and saw at the bakery, twice, as she both wrote my statement on an old-fashioned notebook with a pencil, and then transferred it to her computer.
She shared with me that it was being treated as a negligent manslaughter case since the woman, Joleen Havermail's death was connected with a crime. Theft.
I blurted out in desperation, “Theft? What about the dog-napping? The poor fuzzy girl is out there somewhere with the kidnappers. She doesn't even know her mom is dead. Does her dad know?”
She grabbed the finger I was waggling in her face and bit the tip almost playfully, making my resolve waver with the flush of heat through my body. She released the digit and said patiently like she was explaining to a child, “Dogs are considered property, so this is theft and manslaughter. I'm sure we can find some sort of statues on cruelty to animals we can heap on with the other charges.”
I opened my mouth, and she said in an approximation of my voice, “But dogs are people too!” She smirked at me. Sure, Miss Know-it-all knew what I was going to say. Then she stopped me from interjecting again. “And I'm sure you know a few statutes off the top of your head.” She winked at me.
Then she exhaled and ran a hand through her dark hair, showing her own dislike of the situation. She cupped my cheek, and I closed my eyes to lean into her warm touch, seeking that particular connection which I only felt with her, and basking in it.
I jumped when a man chuckled behind me. “This a new form of interrogation I'm not aware of?”
I turned then smiled at the grizzled detective with his craggy face with three days growth of stubble on his chin and his silver buzzcut. Detective Sergeant Daniel Graves, the only detective at the precinct who outranked Jane. Jane never takes the Sergeant's exam since she prefers to be on the streets, though one day they will probably force her to do it.
I waved from my hip and said, “Hi Dan.”
He paused at me using his first name, with him always trying to be the grumpy grizzly of the department. He started to reply, “Miss...” but deflated when he saw my expectant look. “Fin.”
He looked expectantly at Jane who gathered the papers all around her and the evidence bag , as he ground out, “I fuckin' hate Christmas.” Then he looked at me and rushed out, “Begging your pardon, Fin.”
I beamed at him. See? Even old dogs can be trained.
Jane said gently, “I'll see you at home Fin. I might be late depending on where this goes.”
I nodded then asked her in hope, “What about Tinkerbell's dad?”
She supplied with one eye on the other detective, “Mrs. Havermail is divorced, her ex is on his way in to be interviewed.”
It was unfortunate that they were divorced. Wait, was he a perp? A person of interest? The bad guy? The dognapper?
I prompted out of professional curiosity, well not exactly professional curiosity, just by my sense of justice, “You going to stake out the Eiffel Tower at the Paris Hotel Suites at five?”
Graves cocked an accusing eyebrow at Jane. “McLeary?”
She exhaled in exasperation. “Oh don't get your panties in a twist, Graves. She read the note at the scene.” Then to me, she replied, “You know we aren't able to talk about ongoing cases, Fin.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
I started reaching for my bag, and she pointed at me, again seeing straight through me. “And no Broken Leash!” Grawl! Then she added just for good measure, showing how well she really knew me, “And stay away from the hotel!”
I made my very own exasperated sound and squished my lips to one side, trying to think of another angle, but she had me pegged. I would have gone to the Paris Hotel Suites myself to watch for the missing pup.
So I settled for the only thing I could and gave her my pleading, puppy dog eyes as I said, “Fin
d her and save her? She's all alone and afraid with strangers.”
She exhaled loudly as Graves chuckled for some reason and she said, “I promise to do my best, Fin. But that's all I can promise.” I nodded, understanding. But when Jane promised something, it was as good as done.
I crouched as I looked up to study my detective's deep chocolate eyes. I could see her own need for justice as I clipped up Calvin who had scuttled over to my side as soon as I crouched. I said to the elder detective, “Bye Dan.” Then I shyly gave my girl a peck on the lips and scurried off saying, “Bye Jane. I'll have dinner waiting, just call when you're on your way.”
I didn't wait for a response, but blushed at hearing Dan informing her as I hit the stairs, “You are so whipped.” Jane said to him at the exact same moment, “Shut the fuck up Graves, or I will end you.” Why did everyone always say Jane was whipped? I couldn't get her to do anything if I paid her.
Zip it, I didn't ask you.
I couldn't get home fast enough with Calvin. I needed a shower, and I needed to work off this big ball of sorrow and stress that was churning around inside of me, constricting my heart. Maybe I could wax the hardwood floors? Or take off the vents and clean them and the ductwork. It's been over a week after all. Oh, and I could start compiling a list of the lists I'll need for the wedding. By the lolling tongue and swishing tail, we didn't even have a date set yet!
When I got home, Jess was there still, getting ready to bring her girlfriend home to the parents for Christmas dinner. She'd deny deny deny if I ever called Ker her girlfriend.
She looked all sorts of suspicious and attentive, side-eyeing me as I got out of my winter gear.
I finally stopped what I was doing and gave her a squinty-eyed look. “Jane called, didn't she. I don't need a babysitter.”
She snorted and affirmed, “She's just worried about you. And come on Fin, even you have to admit, your pint-sized ass draws a gallon of trouble along for the ride. What do you do lady, advertise in the circulars or something?”
I muttered, “Watch it MJ. And I'm fine.”
She shrugged and said with all the humor in the world as I moved over to jab a finger in her chest, “Says the girl who got arrested... again.”
She circumvented my pointy attack by hugging me to her to give me a silly side to side hug while I whined into her breastbone, “I wasn't arrested!” Again, I knew what the woman was doing. Keeping my mind off a missing dog who was all alone and afraid. I knew what it felt like to be abducted and held against your will, and no dog needed to be subjected to the fear and anxiety that went along with it.
I muttered at her grudgingly as she released me, “Fine. You're just lucky I love you.”
She nodded and agreed. “Yes I am, brat.” She struck a seductive pose. I ran away quickly to get my shower, she knew I didn't know how to handle her in flirty mode. I'm usually a natural born flirt, it was just so much fun, but with Jess it was so weird, her being Jane's ex and all. One day I'd flirt right back just to shut the smug shapely woman up.
I stopped at the stairs and asked her, trying to keep the whine out of my voice, “Why does this stuff keep happening to me, Jessie?”
She gave me a sad look. “Oh, Fin.”
Then I hustled to get cleaned up so I could do something about the anxiety and stress. Something needed to be organized, I was sure of it. And that was something I had control over.
By the time I was back in my preferred clothes, a nice pastel pink and white sundress, pink tights to combat the cold, and some pink converse, I skipped downstairs to see what needed to be cleaned. Cal looked up from where he was draped across Jessie's lap on the couch, catching up on her soap operas. She heard me on the stairs and quickly switched the channel to some reality tattoo show. I grinned.
She did a doubletake then said, “Are sundresses really practical in a blizzard?”
I informed her as I got out the rechargeable dust buster off its charger inside a cupboard door under the 'hand vacuum' label, “Being well dressed and groomed shows not only respect for yourself, but for others around you.”
She threw some popcorn at me as I approached. “You get this stuff out of some nineteen fifties Susie Homemaker magazine?”
I eyeballed her as I vacuumed up the errant popcorn by my feet before Cal could get there when he scurried off her lap for it. “From my mother, thank you very much. Did you wish to bring up the topic with her?”
She held up a hand palm out. “Whoah there cowgirl, I'm not stupid. Besides, your mom's hot so she can say whatever she wants.”
“Jessiiiieee.”
She chuckled at me, knowing it always got a rise out of me whenever she talked about my mother like that. Mostly because I wasn't so sure she was teasing half the time. She flicked another puffy kernel of corn at me, and I defended myself with the vacuum. Then she said, “But seriously Fin, you look great as always.”
I felt my cheeks warm, and I gave a playful curtsey and swished from side to side to let the skirt flare a bit. Then I slapped her feet, and she moved them off the coffee table as I vacuumed around her on the couch to get any stray Calvin-ish hairs. She rocked one way then the other so I could get under her as she watched the show. Then I kissed the top of her head as I moved on.
I got her trained good.
I had to wonder how quickly the three of us had fallen into such a comfortable routine. It was so natural now it felt like... home. I hesitated and swung to point the vacuum at her menacingly. “You don't have to watch me, I'm fine. Tell Jane or I'll... I'll... do something.”
She nodded. “Very decisive.”
I vacuumed her butt.
She laughed and supplied, “Seriously though. She just worries about you. I think it is sweet seeing the big bad copper showing emotions. And we all worry about you Fin. You're like a magnet for trouble and have seen more death just in the past year than most people see in a lifetime.”
I exhaled loudly, not having a response that wouldn't sound like whining. So I vigorously vacuumed the rest of the furniture to show her my opinion.
I ignored the little snort from the aggravating redhead when I dumped the contents of the collection cup of the vacuum and washed it in the sink before putting it on its charger mounted inside the cupboard door. Now I know why she and Jane worked so well together until they broke up, they were both frustrating and teasing jerk faces.
But, they were my jerk faces.
I absently wondered what Jane was doing, thinking about every procedural police drama on tv and squished my lips to the side. Finding out how an investigation really went compared to the instant results they got on the various series had ruined police shows for me. Nothing was fast, especially processing of evidence. And on a holiday, I didn't expect to see her until really late.
I glanced at the television when a commercial came on, yet another tourist attraction at Times Square, at least it was open Christmas day. Why did it look so familiar? I went back to work, to keep my mind off of the body. I decided on arranging the books in the little bookcase Jess brought with her from her old apartment. She had a penchant for paranormal romances, and interestingly enough, historical fiction.
Instead of one of those cheap pressboard bookcases, it was an exquisitely hand-carved hardwood which her grandfather had made for her. It was gorgeous, and that's why I didn't have a minor coronary when she just moved one of my accent tables aside to put it out in the living space when she moved in.
She complained as I sorted them by author and title alphabetically, “Fin, just sit, relax. I know this is you coping, but I like my books haphazard. It lets people know I actually read them.”
I smirked, placing a hand on my chest, and teased, “What? They're not picture books?”
I know I should know better, coming to a snark contest armed with mild wit, she looked amused as she pointed out, “You, are not as sweet and innocent as you look.” Then she threw a haymaker as she lifted her phone and unlocked it. “You
like pictures? You should see the ones Ker sent me the other...”
Ahhhhhh! Run away!
“No, no no! You can keep your debauchery to yourselves. You two are insatiable.”
She smirked in triumph as she set the cell back down. “Fine. But there was this one where she got creative with a...”
The well-aimed throw pillow hit her in the kisser, and Calvin thought it was great fun, and barked once as he made playful huffing sounds.
Wait... I hope she and Jane never shared... umm... pictures. She cocked an expectant eyebrow as she made a show of putting the pillow behind her head. The brat wanted me to work my way through that train of thought.
I paused. Ok. I knew what she was doing, and I loved her for it. She was keeping me from dwelling on the happenings today. I exhaled, looked at the half-finished organizing of her books, and physically forced myself from completing it, and plopped onto the couch beside her. I said as Cal hopped up to curl in between us, “You're not half as clever as you think you are, Jessie. And thanks.”
She shrugged and played it off. “Any time pipsqueak.” Then she glanced at her phone. “I got an hour before I have to start getting ready for dinner at mom and pops. What ya wanna watch?”
I opened my mouth to suggest a romantic comedy that was new to our cloud streaming service, when she landed us in the middle of Die Hard as she said through a sideways smarmy look, “Action adventure it is.”
Fine.
I swear that most of the women I know are into these adrenaline and testosterone filled movies. And I may have acquired the taste a little, hanging around with them. I mean, Bruce Willis running around in a tank top? Yes, please. There are worse things to watch.
Mable snorted and threw a popcorn kernel at me, which my venerable Border Collie hoovered up. “You are so Pan.”
She says that like it is a bad thing, but I know sexy.
We were silent for just a minute before she asked, a tinge of worry in her voice, “What do you think I should wear tonight?” She had it so bad. I assured her I'd help her pick out something semi-formal that would melt the panties off of Kerry.
Case of the Great Danish Page 6
