Mishaps with Dinner

by Cindy Combs

  The marked black and whites that had been chasing the sports car pulled up all around the intersection. A moment later, Jim heard a tapping on the window. With a sigh, he rolled it down.

  "Are you oka... Detective Ellison?" Lynn Crowder ended with a gasp. "I didn't know you were chasing the bank robber, too."

  "Not intentionally," Jim replied grimly. "I'm off duty."

  "New car?" Lynn ventured, knowing he usually drove an old beater truck and his partner owned a classic car.

  "No, borrowing it from my brother." Tensing as he mentally prepared himself for the worst, he asked, "How bad is the damage?"

  Hiding a smile, Lynn replied, "Not too bad, really." She glanced at the back of the car. "Mostly just the fender."

  Slowly, Jim pulled himself out the driver's seat to take a look. Lynn was right; it was just the fender, though Jim doubted he could convince Steven that the scraped and dented metal was like that before he picked it up.

  Lynn's partner, Jessie Buxton, approached them. "Sir, would you mind giving us a... Detective Ellison?"

  Jim gave her a weary smile. "No, I didn't plan on getting involved and yes, I'll give a statement. But can I give it tomorrow at the station?" He glanced at his watch and groaned inwardly. "I'm going to be late picking up my date."

  "No problem, Detective," Buxton waved it off with a friendly smile. "We know where to find you. Have good evening."

  "Sure not a good start," Jim grumbled as he stared at the fender. Then he looked at the two officers. "Thanks, Buxton. Appreciate it."

  As Jim carefully maneuvered around the patrol cars, Lynn couldn't help but shake her head. "He doesn't have much luck with vehicles, does he?"

  "Yeah," Jessie agreed, "but if he hadn't been where he was, that perp would have made it to the highway and we might not have caught him. Or else he would have hit a civilian, who without Ellison's cop training and reflexes might have hit other cars and hurt people. We're lucky Ellison's so unlucky."

  "Yeah, but I bet Ellison isn't too happy about it," Lynn replied, feeling sorry for the senior detective. Then she remembered something. "Date?"

  Jessie's face turned speculative. "That was a very nice suit. I wonder who he's dating?"

  Lynn's eyes sparkled. "I'll have to ask Sandburg."

  * * *

  Greenbriar Hotel

  As Jim parked in a visitor's parking slot, he glanced at his watch. A groan escaped as he noted the time. Thanks to the accident, he was late. With a sigh, he stepped out of the car, trying not to look at the damaged fender. The good mood that had carried him through the day had dissipated, leaving him weary and sullen.

  He walked into the lobby, barely noting the elegant yet warm furnishings. Without conscious thought, sentinel eyes searched the nooks and couches until he zoomed into the far right corner. Amanda stood near a potted tree, glancing at her own watch. He nearly zoned on the sight. The deep red, silk shift with a V-neck cut emphasized her sleek form. Dark hair was pulled up and held in place with a mother-of-pearl comb, while two locks curved enchantingly around her face. Dangling pearl earrings and a pearl bracelet completed the picture. Any negative emotions were chased away as warm anticipation filled Jim's soul.

  With a shake of his head, Jim withdrew his sight and walked over to the corner. "Hello, Amanda?"

  The woman turned, accompanied by a faint whiff of vanilla that enticed the sentinel's nose. Their eyes met. For a moment, they both stood motionless. Then Jim softly apologized, still concentrating on her beautiful gray-blue eyes. "I'm sorry for being late."

  With a soft smile on her own lips, Amanda replied, "That is all right. I was worried something happened at your workplace."

  "No," Jim returned, still caught by her eyes. "Just traffic."

  They again paused for a moment. Instinctively, Jim knew that she had forgiven him for his tardiness. He presented the crook of his arm. "Shall we?"

  Amanda smiled as she wrapped a hand around the muscular forearm. "Let's."

  Jim's soft smile had returned as he led her out to the roadster, bent fender forgotten.

  * * *

  Manchini's

  The BMW drew up outside the restaurant. Remembering his manners, Jim tossed the keys to the valet then darted around to the passenger side. Amanda had opened the door and, knees together, was elegantly rising from the vehicle. She accepted Jim's hand with a smile. With only one worried glance at the attendant pulling away with Steven's car, Jim escorted her to the door.

  Manchini's sat on the top of a small ridge facing the bay. The restaurant took full advantage of the fact through a two-story glass wall, providing its customers a spectacular view. As Jim opened the door for his date, he had to force his eyes away from Amanda's dress. The silk shimmered in the sunlight bouncing off the glass, displaying more variations of red than Jim had thought possible. A fascinating dress for a fascinating woman.

  "Smells positively delicious in here," Amanda commented as Jim escorted her forward.

  You smell delicious. Jim shoved that thought immediately out of his head. "The food is terrific." He turned to the maitre d', a small gnome of a man dressed in a dark jacket, red shirt, and green tie. "James Ellison, party of two." He smiled at Amanda as he waited.

  The gnome made a great production of leafing through the book of table reservations. "Sir, I am afraid you are not listed," he declared haughtily.

  "What?" Jim returned his focus to the man. "I reserved a table for 6:00."

  "You are not listed," the maitre 'd repeated, looking up at Jim as if he were something stuck on his shoe. "Nor do we seat anyone without a reservation."

  A flare of exasperation flashed through Jim's eyes before he could control it. Mentally counting to ten as he placed both hands on the table, he responded calmly. "Please check again. James Ellison."

  "I do not need to check again. You do not have a reservation."

  Anger and embarrassment teamed together, threatening to blow Jim's temper. "Yes, I do." He quietly reminded himself that breaking the man in half was not the way to start a romantic evening. Nor would Simon be happy with the extra paperwork.

  "Jimmy Ellison?"

  Jim turned, wondering just who else besides Amanda was going to witness his humiliation and add to it by calling him 'Jimmy'. It took a moment for him to place the tiny, gray-haired woman approaching them. "Mrs. Tollson?"

  "Once upon a time, dear, but now I'm Mrs. Manchini. I remarried last year. Was just too lonely by myself without George, God rest his soul." She smiled broadly as she squeezed Jim's arm. "You look so grown up now. Why, it seems like it was just yesterday that you and my Brad were running around the backyard, shirtless and all covered in feathers and watercolor paint." She leaned conspiratorially towards Amanda. "They were pretending to be Indians, you know."

  Amanda tried to hide her smile behind a hand as she glanced at her mortified date. "I imagine that was quite a sight."

  "Oh, it was." The lady gave Jim a huge smile. "Now Jimmy's all grown up and protecting the entire city. I have a stack of newspaper clippings on your exploits." She grinned at Amanda again. "Our Jimmy is such a hero. It just does my heart good to see how well our neighborhood boys have turned out."

  "And how is Brad?" Jim inserted, hoping desperately to avoid any more embarrassing stories.

  Mrs. Manchini brightened. "Brad is running a software company down in Silicon Valley. Given me two darling grandkids, though I don't get to see them often enough. Thankfully, my dear husband Ricky's kids have so generously welcomed me into their family. He already has seven grandkids, and two more on the way." She turned, realizing that the maitre d' was standing there. "Oh, Bernard, I want you to give Jimmy and his girl one of our best tables. In fact, give them number three."

  "But, Mrs. Manchini..." the gnome began his protest.

  She waved him off. "I don't care what table you were going to send him to. Jimmy's an old friend and I'd like to give him a view tonight." She smiled at the couple happily. "I'll try to get Ricky out of the
office so you can meet him later." The bouncing senior citizen waved as she disappeared into a small office.

  Knowing he had been outranked, the maitre d' gave Jim and Amanda a perfect bow, in spite of the sour look on his face. "This way," he stated, no emotion in his voice. Jim escorted Amanda in his wake, both trying hard to keep their faces somber.

  Bernard led them up to the second floor loft, presenting a table for two along the railing. Mrs. Manchini was right; the view from the perch allowed them to see most of the lower floor and out the large windows in front. Jim pre-empted Bernard again by seating Amanda himself. Politely, the couple waited until the man was out of sight before breaking out in quiet chuckles.

  "Bernard certainly doesn't look very happy," Amanda managed to whisper.

  "Serves him right for losing my reservation," Jim replied as he admired how her eyes lit up in mirth.

  "And why does he use that fake accent?"

  Jim tilted his head. "Fake accent?" He had thought that it was a 'proper' British accent, but then again it did not strike the same chord as Amanda's voice.

  "That's not a real English accent. He sounded like the gentleman who introduced a programme I watched last night. Masterpiece Theater, I think it was called. Terrible accent."

  Jim nodded his head thoughtfully. "I guess we Americans aren't privileged often enough with the real thing to know the difference." He gave Amanda his most charming smile.

  "Then again, the British are not privileged enough to know much about your natives," Amanda pointed out. She couldn't help but tease, "Watercolor paint and feathers?"

  Jim shrugged. "Can't be a warrior chief without them."

  * * *

  Major Crime

  "Hey, Sandburg!"

  Glancing up from his computer, Blair brightened as Lynn Crowder walked in. "Hey, Crowder! How's it going?"

  "Not too bad, thanks to your partner helping us catch a bank robber."

  "What?" Blair turned away from the screen. "When did Jim do that?"

  "Oh, about an hour ago. Our perp ran a red light and hit him."

  Blair's eyes widened. "You're kidding?" Then he paused. "What was he driving?"

  "A cute BMW roadster. Said it was his brother's?"

  "Yes!" Lynn blinked in surprised as Blair spun in his chair. "I knew it! Thank God I didn't let him borrow the Cobra."

  "How bad?" Lynn and Blair looked up to see Simon Banks' stern face.

  "Just dented the fender," Lynn replied cautiously. "Detective Ellison was unharmed, sir."

  "Yeah!" Rhonda cheered in the background, increasing Lynn's astonishment.

  "Rhonda just won the pool," Blair explained with a grin.

  "Pool?" Lynn asked.

  "On how badly Jim would wreck his brother's car tonight," Megan added as she sat on Blair's desk. "I had 'torn off door.'"

  "You were closer than me," Blair replied. "I had 'blown engine.'" He grinned up at his commander. "I think our Captain here had 'broken headlight.'"

  Lynn's eyes simply grew wider. "You all bet that Jim would wreck his brother's car?"

  "Hey, I even got Steven in on the action," Blair defended. "Though he picked 'nothing'. I could have told him that was wishful thinking."

  "Was his date in the car?" Megan asked, curious what another woman would think of Jim's English lady.

  Lynn shook her head. "No, though he said he was late picking her up." She turned to Blair. "Who's his date? Anyone I know?"

  Blair shook his head, still smiling. "She's a businesswoman from Britain who won him in that auction last fall."

  "Ah, kinda like a blind date then," Lynn commented.

  "Nah, Jim saw her at the auction." Blair gave a sharp cat call. "Very nice."

  Megan rolled her eyes. "At least she wasn't in the car with Jim. He's trying so hard to impress her."

  * * *

  Manchini's

  "...So my brother had to walk home with a sprained wrist and torn pants." Amanda finished her story as they waited for their food. "That's the last time he tried to ride my Rainstorm."

  Jim gave her a warm smile. He was enjoying Amanda's stories of her childhood, learning more about the beautiful woman before him. "Do you still ride?"

  "Every chance I get." Amanda took a sip of her wine, trying to think up another line of conversation as the current one ran its course. "My family still owns the stable. Do you ride?"

  "Yes, though I haven't ridden much since I got out of the Army." An idea popped into Jim's head. "Perhaps we can go while you're here."

  Amanda gave him an enthusiastic smile. "I would like that."

  "I'll see what I can arrange."

  The conversation stalled again. Amanda shifted the fork on the table slightly as she searched her mind for a new avenue of conversation. "Well, I've talked about my family. What about yours?" Jim barely kept from flinching. "I know you had a brother in the auction. Any other siblings?"

  Jim relaxed slightly. He could handle talking about Steven. It was his parents that would be a show-stopper. "No, just Steve. Though my partner feels like a second kid brother."

  "Partner?"

  "Blair Sandburg. We're both detectives with the PD and he's my roommate."

  Amanda gave him a funny glance. "Roommate?"

  "Yeah, his place blew up and I told him he could use my spare room for a week. That was about five years ago."

  "Long week," Amanda chuckled, replacing 'roommate' with 'flatmate' in her mind. "How did his place blow up?"

  Jim smiled as he enjoyed Amanda's throaty chuckle. "Sandburg was a broke grad student at the time and thought this drafty old warehouse with cheap rent was a great deal. Dumb kid didn't realize there was a meth lab next door."

  "Which blew up?" Amanda guessed.

  "Yep. He was lucky he wasn't killed." Jim shook his head in remembrance. "Afterwards, all the places Sandburg could afford were in high crime areas, so I told him just to pay me rent and we'd call it even. Figured it saved me the gray hairs from worrying about him."

  "Protective big brother," Amanda murmured, studying him a moment.

  "Yep." Jim's face turned serious. "Both Steve and Blair are important to me. Though out of the two, Blair gets into more trouble." An unexpected ping on sentinel senses tightened Jim's body.

  "Didn't they say at the auction your brother's a businessman?" Amanda asked. "I'd imagine that would be safer than being a police detective."

  "True." Covertly, Jim began searching for the reason his senses were now on alert. "Though half of Sandburg's problems are due to women. While Steve usually has steady relationships with nice women, Blair'll date anything with curves and felonious tendencies." Jim's attention was drawn to the front of the restaurant where Bernard appeared to be having an argument with someone.

  Amanda's eyes narrowed when she noticed her date was no longer relaxed and concentrating on their conversation. "Something wrong?" Jim held up a hand as he listened.

  "...don't need a reservation to rob the place..."

  "Damn," Jim grumbled as he saw the glint of metal between the two men. He glanced around the loft area. "Is there a back way out of here?"

  "Back way?" Amanda returned the whisper. "Why?"

  "Because someone else apparently doesn't like Bernard's accent and they're holding a gun on him." Jim finally spotted the 'Exit' sign between a potted tree and the drinks station.

  "What?" Amanda stared at him in shock, trying to keep her voice low.

  "I'm going down there," Jim continued softly. He handed her his cell phone. "Hit the third speed dial; that's the department. Tell them there's a robbery in progress at Manchini's and Detective James Ellison from Major Crimes told you to call. If things go bad, I want you and anyone else up here to go out that door. Got it?"

  Amanda nodded firmly, though her eyes were large with worry. "Be careful."

  Jim gave her a cocky grin before stepping away from their table and trotting down the stairs. Quietly slipping around the tables, plants and waiters on the first floor, Jim r
everted from a normal man on a date to a hunter stalking his prey. Someone dared to threaten his tribe and interrupt his night off with the most fascinating woman he'd been with in a very, very long time. The Sentinel of the Great City was going to find them and make them pay.

  Every sense on alert, Jim pinpointed harsh voices in the small office Mrs. Manchini had entered earlier.

  "...Open that safe, Mr. Manchini, or Shorty gets it. Then we'll start on little wifey here..."

  "...Ricky?"

  Jim clenched his jaw. Brad's mom had always been nice to him and Steven when they were kids. There was no way she was going to be hurt if he could help it.

  He snagged a waitress just before he entered the foyer. Quietly, Jim explained the situation, suggesting she start moving the customers nearby to a safer location. The older woman nodded her head in agreement and began her task.

  Stealthily, Jim leaned against the wall next to the office door, which was slightly ajar. He pulled his backup weapon out from under his jacket. Imagining Blair's voice in his ear, he concentrated a moment. One, two, three, four -- five accelerated heartbeats were within the room.

  "...Hurry up!"

  "I have arthritis in my hands. I cannot go any faster."

  That placed Mr. Manchini furthest into the room, probably near the back wall. Brad's mom was off to the left side, gauging from her voice earlier. The mouthy robber was between them. So where were Bernard and the probable robber number two? Cautiously, Jim laid his hand on the door and painstakingly pushed it in an inch. He spotted a lanky man in a mask, holding Bernard to his chest with a gun to his head. Jim took a deep breath. There was no way he could enter at this moment and ensure that neither Bernard nor the Manchinis were hurt.

  "...Place the money in that bag..."

  Then Jim heard soft, careful steps behind him. Swiftly, he turned to discover Officer Doug Roberts behind him. Doug lifted his hands along with his gun in a silent shrug, tilting his head towards the door. Jim raised two fingers, mouthed 'perps', then raised three fingers and mouthed 'hostages'. Doug frowned, then lifted an eyebrow in question.