Twice a Hero, Always Her Man

by Marie Ferrarella

  He grinned, envisioning the scene. “A photogenic wet rat,” Colin corrected.

  That caught her off guard. Colin didn’t usually compliment her. “You think I’m photogenic?”

  He looked at her, amused. “You think you’re not?” he countered.

  “Actually,” she confessed, “I haven’t thought about it at all.” She had to submit herself to the makeup woman daily, but she didn’t bother looking to see what the final result was when the woman finished.

  “Don’t you look at yourself on TV?” Colin asked, surprised. Everyone he knew was keenly aware of how they looked. He’d always thought it was part of the human condition.

  “No,” Ellie answered with a dismissive shrug.

  Heather was carefully putting glasses next to the place settings. She looked up at her idol in total surprise.

  “Why not?” she asked. “If I was on TV, I’d watch me all the time.”

  “That’s because you’re adorable,” Ellie told the preteen. “I feel too self-conscious. If I looked, I’d see all my flaws and all my mistakes.”

  “What if there aren’t any?” Colin challenged.

  “There are always mistakes,” Ellie assured him, then deftly changed the subject. She was never comfortable talking about herself. “So, how was your day?”

  “Frustrating,” Colin said honestly. “There’s been a rash of home invasions. So far, we haven’t been able to catch who’s behind them.”

  “What about descriptions?” she asked. Using a deep serving spoon, she doled out helpings on all three plates. “Home invasions mean that the people were at home at the time, right? Can’t any of the people who were robbed give you an accurate description of the thieves?” Finished serving, she sat down and began to eat.

  “They come in wearing masks and tie the people up, blindfolding them. We’re not even getting an accurate count of how many home invaders there are. One couple said two—another said four. Nobody’s agreeing with each other.”

  “Could be that there are several teams,” Ellie suggested. “All working for one head guy—or woman,” she amended. “What about surveillance tapes? Almost everyone has home security systems these days, or at least cameras.”

  “All of which the thieves disable before they get into the house,” Colin told her.

  “These thieves are tech savvy?” she asked.

  He nodded, noticing that Heather seemed to be hanging on every word. “Looks that way.”

  “What are the names of the security companies?” Ellie asked.

  He thought for a moment, recalling what was written on the reports. “Supreme Alarms.”

  “Just one name?” she asked. “Aren’t there any other companies?”

  He paused to mentally review the reports he’d read. “I don’t think so.”

  “Maybe you should find out if the company recently fired anyone in the last few months. One of them might be looking for revenge. Disgruntled employees like to find a way to get back at their employers for firing them. This sounds like a perfect way to do it to me.”

  He grinned at her. “You are a very handy person to have around. We investigated the employees currently working for the company. We didn’t look into any former employees,” he admitted. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of this myself.”

  “See, Uncle Colin?” Heather spoke up. “Told you she was great.”

  Ellie quickly glossed over the compliment. “You would have thought of that,” she assured him. “I just beat you to it because I love reading mystery thrillers,” she told the detective.

  Colin kept a straight face as he said, “Either that or you think like a thief.”

  “There’s that, too,” she agreed in the same deadpan voice.

  “No, you’re not a thief,” Heather piped up.

  “Ellie’s just kidding,” Colin told his niece. “In any case, I’m going to head down to the Supreme Alert main office in the morning, see if I can get a list of terminated employees.”

  She didn’t know why she suddenly felt the need to warn him, but she did. “Be careful.”

  “Always,” he assured her. “Except when it comes to the dog,” Colin said, looking down. Apparently, Pancakes had decided to work on the leg of the chair he was sitting on. Bending over, he urged the dog away, bribing her with a piece of meat. “What did you say the name of that spray was?” he asked Ellie when he straightened up.

  He knew she’d told him about it, but he’d put it out of his mind at the time. He was beginning to think that maybe he shouldn’t have.

  “Bitter apple,” she repeated.

  “I’m buying a gallon of it first thing in the morning,” he vowed.

  “Good thinking,” she agreed as Heather dutifully drew the puppy away, offering her a chew toy instead. Pancakes took the bait.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “What are you doing on Thanksgiving?”

  The question, asked by Colin, came seemingly out of the blue after dinner one evening.

  Ellie was helping him load the dishwasher and the question caught her completely by surprise. She didn’t answer him immediately. Instead, she glanced at the calendar Colin had hung up on the wall next to the sink.

  The holiday had just crept up on her this year. It seemed like one day Thanksgiving was over a month away, the next it was almost upon her. Four days away to be exact.

  Realizing that Colin was still waiting for some kind of an answer, Ellie shrugged. “Same thing I usually do. I’m working.” What she left out was that she’d asked to be working on that day.

  “Can’t you get out of it?” he asked, rinsing off the casserole dish before tucking it in on the top rack. “You have seniority. After all, you’ve been there a few years now, right?”

  Handing him the dishwashing liquid, Ellie looked at him. “Have you been reading my studio bio?” she asked, doing her best to sound lighthearted rather than defensive.

  If Colin detected a slight edge in her voice, he gave no indication.

  “I’m a detective—comes with the territory. So, can you get out of working?” he asked, then added, “I’ve got the day off.”

  Ellie pressed her lips together. Thanksgiving had always been rather special to her. Brett had proposed to her on Thanksgiving Day. Moreover, the Thanksgivings that came after that, if they’d been apart because he was overseas on a tour of duty, they still managed to spend the holiday “together,” thanks to Skype.

  Because of the time differences involved, sometimes she had to get up at three in the morning, and sometimes the first chance he had to talk to her was far into the wee hours at night. The inconvenience didn’t matter. It was well worth it to her.

  After she’d lost Brett, the thought of facing the holiday alone—even at her mother’s house, and her mother always had a houseful of friends coming over—was just too painful for her to contemplate.

  But this year, things had changed without her being fully aware of the metamorphosis. This year, she’d somehow gotten pulled into this do-it-yourself family comprised of Colin and his niece—and the dog—and she had to admit that she did like it. This was what she’d envisioned her life to be if she and Brett had had a child.

  “Well, I guess that I could talk to the program manager,” Ellie said evasively. “I’m not making any promises, but maybe...” She deliberately let her voice trail off.

  Colin closed the dishwasher and started the washing process.

  “Good,” he said as if it was already a done deal. “Because I know that Heather would love to have you join us.” Hoping to sweeten the deal, he told her, “I was thinking of going to The Five Crowns and I have to call in a reservation, the earlier, the better.”

  Ellie stared at him. “A restaurant?” she said in disbelief. “Seriously?”

  Why was she look
ing at him as if he’d just assumed the role of the village idiot? “Yes, what’s wrong with that?”

  Ellie started to enumerate why his thinking was so wrong. “Number one, good luck with getting a reservation at this late date.”

  “Late date?” he challenged. “It’s still five days away.”

  “Four,” she corrected. “And even if you could get a reservation, which is doubtful, you don’t go to a restaurant for Thanksgiving.” How could he even think that was acceptable?

  Maybe she hadn’t made the connection between all the takeout menus tacked up on his refrigerator and the fact that he’d never invited her to a home-cooked meal that he had made.

  “You do if your cooking skills are limited to scrambled eggs and toast—usually burnt,” he added.

  “Well, mine aren’t and it’s important that Heather has a home-cooked Thanksgiving meal.” It was happening again. She was getting pulled further in by volunteering to cook Thanksgiving dinner. Moreover, if she was being honest with herself, she hadn’t made the offer against her will. “Okay,” she said, “if I can clear the day with my program manager at the station, I’ll make the turkey.”

  “I don’t want to put you out.” His protest was at odds with the broad smile on his face.

  Her eyes met his. “Sure you do, but it’s understandable, given the situation.” At least her mother would be overjoyed that she was doing this, she couldn’t help thinking. “I’m putting you on notice, by the way.”

  “About?” he asked, not quite sure what he was bracing himself for.

  There wasn’t a thing in his refrigerator or pantry she could work with—other than margarine. “If I get the go-ahead from the program manager, you and I and Heather are going food shopping.”

  “You’re the boss,” he told her, relieved that this was her condition and not something else.

  “Right,” she mocked.

  She wasn’t the boss in this situation, Ellie thought. If anything, she was just along for the ride. But somehow, she couldn’t summon any resentment or indignation over the very gentle way she’d been manipulated. That in itself spoke volumes, but she chose not to explore that now.

  * * *

  In his sixth decade, Marty Stern was a thin, wiry man who was very good at his job. He always appeared to be moving, juggling a myriad of tasks, usually at the same time, and remarkably, keeping them all straight. His gift was that he always remained on top of everything that came under the heading of his job.

  His approval wasn’t easily won, but once it was, that person had it for life. He had a fondness for Ellie. In all the time she’d been with the station, she had never once questioned any assignment he had given her, any place he had sent her.

  So when she’d knocked on his door the following morning and asked for a few minutes of his time, he had beckoned her in and heard her out.

  When she’d finished, he had to admit to himself that she’d surprised him.

  “Seriously?” he asked her, looking at her over his steepled thin fingers. “You want Thanksgiving off?” Given what he knew, he hadn’t expected this.

  “Yes. But if it puts you in a bind—” she began, about to rescind her request. She’d never been one who caused problems and maybe this had been a bad idea.

  “No,” Marty told her, cutting her off, “actually, I can get someone to cover your spot. I just thought you said you wanted to work on Thanksgiving.”

  “I did say that,” she confirmed. “But something came up.”

  “A good something?” Marty asked, eyeing her closely.

  “A different something.”

  Would she jinx it by saying yes? She wasn’t normally superstitious but in the last couple of years, she had lost track of exactly what “normal” was. Ellie decided to take the safe route.

  “Okay,” he laughed drily, “I’ll accept that. You’ve got the day off. Lord knows you’ve earned it,” he told her. “Now go get me something on that bear sighting down in Mission Viejo. Preferably some footage,” he said, sending her off.

  “You’ve got it.” It was as good as a promise. She planned to do her very best.

  * * *

  Ellie had no sooner gotten into the news van with Jerry and started down the Santa Ana Freeway than she felt her phone vibrate.

  Pulling it out of her pocket, she saw that it wasn’t a call coming in but a text. She recognized the number. Colin was sending her a text.

  Any word yet?

  Smiling to herself, Ellie texted back, Got the day off.

  The moment she sent it out, she received another text in response.

  Great!

  She was tempted to text back an inquiry as to whether he was experiencing a slow day, allowing him time to text, but she refrained. Instead, she put her phone away. When she looked up, she saw that Jerry was watching her.

  “Never saw you texting before. Something I should know?” Her cameraman was grinning from ear to ear, as if he already had the answer to his question.

  Ellie pointed to his front windshield. “Yes, you should know that more accidents happen when you take your eyes off the road—so watch the road.”

  If anything, his grin got wider. There was no denying that he was very amused by all this.

  “Anything else I should know?” he teased.

  Ellie sighed as she sank back in her seat. “Just that your wife’s a saint for putting up with you.”

  Threading his way onto the freeway, he paused until they merged into the left lane. “Speaking of wife, you know that our usual invitation to join us for Thanksgiving still stands if you decide to change your mind about working.”

  She realized that he didn’t know yet. She didn’t want to get into it, but then, she didn’t want him being the last to know, either.

  “Sorry, I’ve got plans,” she told him, hoping that was the end of it.

  It was obvious that her answer surprised him. “‘Plan’ plans?” Jerry asked keenly, making it sound like some sort of secret undertaking.

  “Just drive, Jerry,” she ordered.

  His curiosity aroused, he knew better than to prod her. She’d tell him when she was ready. “Good for you, Ellie.”

  “Jerry—” There was a warning note in her voice as she said his name.

  “I’m driving, I’m driving,” he answered, backing off even more.

  But she noted that he was still grinning. And, in a way, she supposed that she was, too.

  * * *

  “How about this one?” Colin asked two evenings later when they finally found the time to go shopping. He was holding up a twenty-five-pound frozen turkey for her approval. Because of both their schedules, this was the first opportunity that they had to go to the supermarket together.

  Ellie supposed that it would have probably been a lot quicker for her to just go alone, but she wanted to include Heather in the safari and she knew that the girl would want her uncle to come, as well, which was how they all came to be in the well-stocked chain supermarket at seven thirty in the evening, shopping for Thanksgiving.

  Despite it being two days away from Thanksgiving, there was no shortage of turkeys to choose from.

  “That depends on whether you want to be eating turkey leftovers for the next week and a half or not. There’ll just be three of us,” she reminded him. “A ten-to twelve-pound turkey will do.”

  “Okay.” Colin put the turkey back in the open freezer where the store had placed most of their stock of birds and searched until he found one the size that she’d suggested. Picking it up, he eyed it skeptically. “Really? It looks puny.”

  “I’m not telling you not to get the larger one,” she told him. “But just remember that there’s just so much you can do with leftover turkey.”

  “I love turkey sandwiches,” Heather spoke up. There wa
s more than a trace of nostalgia in her voice as she said, “Mom would put them in my lunch all week.”

  The argument was settled in Colin’s mind.

  “A bigger bird it is,” he announced, returning the smaller specimen and taking one that weighed in at sixteen pounds. In his mind, it was the perfect compromise. “What’s next?”

  “We need to make stuffing,” Ellie said.

  Colin thought for a minute. He didn’t frequent grocery stores all that often. “I think I saw the boxes in the next aisle,” he told her.

  Ellie stopped him before he could turn on his heel. “We’re not going to eat stuffing that came in a box.”

  “We’re not?” Colin turned around to face her. “Are these rules written down someplace?” he asked. His personal rule of thumb was always the simpler, the better.

  “Just work with me,” Ellie told him, then rattled off the ingredients for the stuffing that her mother always made. She’d never met anyone who didn’t like it. “Okay, we’re going to need two packages of hot sausages, one package of medium-hot sausage, a pound of hard salami, several cans of chicken broth, some celery and two large loaves of white bread.”

  “All that for stuffing?” Colin asked doubtfully.

  “Only if you want to do it right,” she answered.

  “Well, that puts me in my place,” Colin replied obligingly.

  Once they’d located all the ingredients she needed and placed them in the cart, Ellie turned toward Heather. “You get to pick the vegetables and the dessert.”

  Happy to contribute, Heather said, “That’s easy. My mom always made mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Oh, and gravy,” she added.

  “And for dessert?” Ellie coaxed.

  That drew an even bigger smile from the girl. “Pumpkin pie,” Heather said as if she could all but taste it.

  “See?” Ellie said to Colin, who was on the other side of the cart—Heather insisted on being the one to push it. She gestured to the contents in the cart. “Now that’s a Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “It still has to be cooked,” Colin pointed out. “That’s where the real work comes in.”