by Lynette Mae
“Cops hate change. I stick with a good thing.”
Devon and Nate met when she tried out for the SWAT team after completing her first two years at the department. No female candidate had ever tried out before, and when she showed up, there was no mistaking the animosity that hung in the air thicker than the humidity that sweltering summer day.
Devon insisted on competing with the same standards as the male applicants and outperformed most of the group. By the end of that day, she’d secured a spot on the team, but it had still taken a while to win over the most staunchly resistant members. Nate was the exception right from the start, offering encouragement and sound advice. She and Nate hit it off immediately and became fast friends. Since then, they'd become partners on the team, trusting each other with their lives in the most harrowing situations.
“Good to see you back on the street,” Nate said. “It’s been a couple of weeks. Everything turned out okay, then?”
“The state attorney’s office and IA have ruled the shooting justified, but now there’s the lawsuit going on. I don’t know.” She sighed and sipped her café con leche.
“Listen, don’t let the political bullshit get to you. The department has to deal with the rest of it now. They’ve cleared you, which means the lawsuits or anything else is their problem, not yours personally. You’re covered.”
“It’s hard to ignore, though.”
“Anytime you need an ear—you know that.”
“Thanks, bud.”
The waiter placed a third dish on the table at the open place next to Nate. Devon raised a questioning eyebrow.
“For my rookie,” he said in answer to her unspoken inquiry, already shoveling a forkful of yellow rice into his mouth. “Bathroom.” He indicated the rear of the restaurant with a tilt of his head. “And, stop that.”
“What?”
“You’re doing that thing with your jaw. I see it bunching up there in the back. Don’t worry, she’s good. You’ll like her, I think.”
Devon shook her head in dismay. She had hoped to have dinner alone with Nate, to relax and catch up on news and share a few laughs. The prospect of enduring endless rookie questions throughout their meal was something she definitely did not want to contemplate.
She forced a smile and met Nate’s reassuring eyes. Resigning herself to the inescapable, she picked up her fork, deciding instead to concentrate on the delicious food. Out of the corner of her eye she saw their dinner companion quietly return.
Devon shifted her gaze to watch long graceful fingers extracting the knife and fork, then unfold the napkin and place it on her lap. Next, Devon’s eyes traveled up her torso to the silver nameplate. J. Kilbride was etched into the surface. The bronzed skin of the woman's long, slender neck was exposed between the open top buttons of the uniform shirt. Devon's eyes finally came to rest on her face. The deep green eyes that had penetrated her consciousness at the academy gym stared back at her across the table.
Just like that day at the gym, Devon felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach. Only tonight it was obvious why she hadn’t recognized the woman at that first meeting. Her uniform gave away her trainee status. Brand new shiny brass, her shirt yet to fade, and her leather gear was smooth and unmarred. Tonight her hair was pulled neatly back and secured in a tight bun.
The rookie’s face colored, and she looked away in obvious discomfort. Devon immediately chided herself, realizing her irritation over sharing her dinner break with Nate must have shown on her face. Inexplicably, it mattered that the young woman appeared to be uncomfortable. Devon didn't want her to think she was an asshole. She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat. What the hell did she care what some rookie thought, anyway? She reached for her glass of ice water and took a long drink because the restaurant had suddenly become unbearably warm.
Nate, oblivious to the nonverbal exchange between the two women, said between large bites of food, “Jessie, this is Devon James, my SWAT partner. Devon, this is Jessica Kilbride. She’s in phase four of training.” He returned his attention to his plate, leaving the two women to complete the introductory conversation on their own.
Devon extended her hand across the table and smiled, hoping to erase any negative first impressions. “Hi, how are ya?”
“Hello, Corporal,” Jessie replied quietly. “I’m very glad to meet you.” Her handshake was firm but her skin felt warm and soft.
When Jessie looked down at their hands, then back to her face, Devon realized she had drifted momentarily and not let go at the socially acceptable time. Embarrassed, she said, "Sorry." Devon felt strangely off balance. Like wading in the ocean, enjoying the peaceful relaxation, but at the same time feeling the sand shifting beneath her feet.
Jessie smiled shyly and to busy herself, Devon refilled their water glasses from the pitcher. Needing a return to the comfort of normal interaction, she decided that police work was a safe topic.
“So, have you guys been busy tonight?” she asked Nate.
“Not too bad. The usual stuff. Jessie had her first foot chase, though.” Nate poked the woman next to him with his elbow. “Tell her.”
“Nate…I don’t want to.” The color rose in her face again and Devon found her embarrassment engaging.
“No, I’d like to hear about it. Go ahead,” Devon encouraged, feeling more relaxed when she talked about work. She remembered her first sighting of Jessie at the gym and thought she was physically capable. Regardless of how progressive law enforcement agencies claimed to be, women still had to prove themselves worthy of the profession. Her first impression of Jessie had been positive. Devon couldn’t forget the sight of her on the weight bench, but she resolutely pushed those thoughts away in light of this more professional interaction. She definitely wanted to hear Jessie’s story.
“It was nothing really,” Jessie said. “We stopped this car and the passenger bailed out and ran. I caught up to him a couple of blocks later.” She shrugged, dropping her eyes again.
“She’s leaving out the part where she tackled him and gave him a few shots when he wouldn’t give up his hands,” Nate added enthusiastically. “And when she searched him after cuffing him, she found an automatic pistol in his waistband and a baggie of cocaine in his pocket.” He smiled proudly at his student.
“That’s great!” Devon grinned at Jessie’s blush and thought the way she fiddled with her napkin to hide her discomfort was cute as hell.
Nate excused himself, leaving Devon and Jessie alone.
“Did you always want to be a cop?” Devon asked.
“Ever since I can remember. What about you, Corporal?”
“I used to be in the military, and when that didn’t work out, law enforcement was the logical alternative. I’m enjoying myself.” Jessie's smile made Devon warm inside.
“The SWAT stuff must be really exciting, but I’m not sure I could do all that.”
“It’s demanding sometimes, but we love it.” Devon flipped the focus back to Jessie. “Nate doesn’t impress easily, and I can tell he thinks very highly of you. I hope you know how rare that is for him.”
“Thanks.” Jessie gave a nervous laugh and Devon found herself staring when Jessie bit her lower lip. They lapsed into silence and Devon wished she were better at conversation. Mac would be smoothly moving to the next topic, but Devon struggled to find the right words at times like these. Thankfully Nate returned to the table.
“Ready?” he asked Jessie.
They paid the tab, and Devon gave Señora Gutierrez a tight squeeze before following Nate and Jessie to the parking lot. Nate climbed behind the wheel of his car. She was glad her patrol car was parked to the right of theirs. That meant Jessie would walk that way with her. Devon was surprised to find that she’d enjoyed dinner more than she would have admitted to herself, much less out loud. She said goodbye, still feeling Jessie’s emerald eyes on her, and recalling how she was drawn into their depths when she dared to return her gaze.
Chapter Three
HE SAT
ON the tattered, threadbare couch that doubled as a bed in his efficiency apartment, eating a greasy burger from a paper sack and swallowing it down with a swig from his forty-ounce bottle of beer. A rusted oscillating fan squeaked as it turned back and forth, trying to push around what passed for cool air coming out of the worn-out window air conditioner. He picked up the remote to silence the TV when the teaser for the upcoming six o’clock news came on.
“Coming up, we have new, recently released dramatic footage from the police pursuit following Tuesday’s bank robbery at the Southern Savings and Loan.”
On the screen, a blonde officer escorted a handcuffed man to a patrol car and placed him inside. When the officer pushed the car door closed she turned directly toward the camera. He stared.
His face twisted in disgust. He downed the rest of his beer as the reporter narrated the videotaped pursuit. “Corporal James declined to be interviewed on camera, however she did confirm that both robbery suspects have been arrested and the money bag from the bank was recovered.”
“Well, hello, Lieutenant James.”
“I’M HERE, SO let’s eat!” Nate entered Devon’s house like he owned the place, meeting Mac at the kitchen doorway with a bear hug. Devon smiled watching her closest friends through the open patio doors while she spread out the coals on the grill. The weather was perfect for an outdoor dinner, a warm seventy-five degrees without the Florida humidity that would take over as summer crept nearer. It had been a while since she and her friends had a day off in common, and Devon scheduled the dinner to take advantage of the occasion.
Satisfied with the grill temperature, she moved to the patio door and called into the house, “Mac, bring me the plate of steaks, would ya?”
“Sure,” Mac said. “Do you want a beer too?”
“That’d be great, thanks.” Moments later her friends joined her on the deck.
“How are ya Mac?” Nate asked. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”
“Great. Your area’s been quiet, so we’ve been spending more time in the other sectors. They’ve had a few good pursuits, and that’s been fun.”
“I’ve heard. Dev said they caught an armed robbery suspect last week. That’s awesome.”
“Oh, yeah. You should have seen Dev chase down the asshole. You would have been proud.”
Devon waved her spatula in the air. “Hey, you two, c’mon, bring those steaks over here, the fire isn’t gonna stay hot all day.”
“Well, if you had a decent grill you wouldn’t have to worry,” Nate teased. “You’re the only person I know who still fools with charcoal.”
“Yeah and you’ve never had a better steak than here,” Devon countered. “You’ve said so many times.”
“Probably has more to do with it the meal being free,” Mac chimed in.
Nate walked around the oval in-ground pool to the far side of the patio, where Devon slid the cooking grates back into place over the fire. He passed her a fresh beer and gave her a tight squeeze.
Mac handed Devon the steaks, which she promptly placed over the open fire. The flames leapt around the thick t-bones, and the steaks hissed and popped, filling the air with mouth-watering aroma.
They moved to the patio table beneath the covered area of the porch and sat to enjoy their beer.
Nate shot Mac a look before asking, “Dev, you ready for SWAT school? It’s next week, right?”
“Yep. Thanks for getting the captain to put me in for it.”
“No problem. It will make you a better SWAT officer and you’re going to love it. Of course, some of the drills will be similar to the ones we do. You know the shooting drills.”
“Two to the body, one to the head,” they chanted simultaneously, then laughed and tapped their bottles together in a salute.
“What’s that about?” Mac asked.
“Just a shooting drill that always ends our training day,” Devon explained. “It’s a body armor drill. You stop the threat. Two shots to the body, and one head shot in case the bad guy’s wearing a bullet-proof vest.”
“The repetition is to make the response automatic under stress,” Nate added. “But, just like anything, after hundreds of repetitions, it gets monotonous. We hear the line so much in training that it’s become a SWAT joke.”
“What other kinds of training will they have?” Devon asked him.
“This course is full of hand-to-hand combat stuff, ground fighting, and even some rappelling. I think you’re gonna have a great time.”
“Don’t you guys normally do that stuff on your SWAT training days?” Mac asked.
“Some,” he said, “but this will be more intense. They’ll be going over the newest techniques and innovations in tactical responses.” He looked back to Devon. "The best part will be the building extractions, Dev. I know you get off on all that rappelling. Oh, and I hear the lead instructor is one of the best in the state. She even trains and issues certifications for rappel masters. Maybe you can get some information about that.” He pumped his eyebrows. “And, they say she’s easy on the eyes.”
Mac sat up, suddenly looking more interested. “A woman?”
“Yeah." Nate said. "I hear she’s top notch.”
“Dev, maybe I can drop by, ya know, just to see how things are going. I mean, you never know when you might need a hand.”
Devon rolled her eyes. “Is it even possible there’s one woman left in Florida that you haven’t gotten to know intimately?” She ducked when Mac tossed a bottle cap in her direction.
“No shit,” Nate complained. “You get more action than any dude I know.”
“Jealous?” Mac raised an eyebrow at him.
Thirty minutes later, their plates empty except for the spotless bones, the three friends sat back in their chairs, supremely satisfied. Darkness settled around them, a full moon rising in a clear sky. Crickets droned lazily in the distance, and Devon got up to light the tiki torches at the corners of the lanai.
“So, Nate, you still have that hot rookie?” Mac asked.
“Only for another couple of days. She finishes up this week.”
“I’ll bet you’re looking forward to being free.”
“Actually, no. She's really been great to ride with. She’s so enthusiastic. I don’t know how to explain it, but she makes me excited to come to work again.” Mac said, “Wow. You’re sure it has nothing to do with her looks?” “Her looks?” He put on an exaggerated frown. “How shallow do you think I am?” “So her appearance has absolutely no affect on how you relate to her, huh?”
Devon finished lighting the torches, and her return to the table interrupted his answer. She had absently been following the conversation, but thought she must have lost a thread. “Who are we talking about again?”
“Nate’s rookie,” Mac told her. “He was just getting ready to try to deny any sexual fantasies about her. I saw her the other day. She’s the brunette, right? Legs for days. Have you seen her, Dev? Damn, I’d—”
Devon stood abruptly, not wanting to hear the rest of the lewd comment about Jessie. This was the kind of banter the three of them engaged in regularly, but for some reason this time she didn’t find it amusing. She resisted the urge to cuff Mac on the side of the head, deciding to play host instead. “Who needs a refill?” She retreated to the kitchen before waiting for a response.
Nate appeared at her side in the kitchen a moment later. “Not for me. I hate to eat and run, Dev, but I’ve got court in the morning and didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I understand, bud.” She gave him a firm hug.
He leaned back to study her. “You okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Did talking about Jessie bother you or something?”
For a big jock, Nate was pretty astute and Devon knew he had a big heart underneath it all. Why had the conversation irritated her?
“I don’t know, Nate. You know I’m not very good at this stuff.”
“Come on, it’s me, remember? You looked like you were gettin
g along with her pretty well at dinner. Nothing wrong with that, bud. Jessie’s good people and so are you.” He gave her a nudge.
She nodded, knowing he was right, and she realized she wanted to get to know Jessie better. She pulled in a deep breath. “Is she single?”
“Yes,” he said. “But she’s had a difficult time of it with her ex. I haven’t asked her a lot, because I didn’t want to pry. I saw her ex giving her a hard time in the parking lot at the station one day. That woman’s got issues. I’m not sure exactly what their status is, though.” He checked his watch. “Sorry, Dev, I gotta run.”
“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for coming by, and for the info about Jessie. Be careful going home.”
“See ya, Dev.”
They embraced and Devon waved before closing the door. She returned to the kitchen to find Mac pulling two more beers from the refrigerator.
“Oops, these are your last two,” she said apologetically.
“No problem, I have to go to the store tomorrow anyway.”
Mac leaned a hip against the counter and sipped her beer while Devon restored a bit of order to the kitchen. She had replaced the outdated olive green appliances when she moved in, but still planned to update the rest of the kitchen as soon as possible. Devon opened the cabinet above the sink, pulling down a bottle of their favorite whiskey and two shot glasses. She grinned at Mac as she held up the offering.
“Absolutely.” Glancing around, Mac said, “By the way, the place is coming along nicely.” Devon followed Mac’s gaze with a sense of pride. She had purchased the house the year before and had been painstakingly remodeling the interior ever since. The bungalow was built in the Forties with a wide front porch, high ceilings and the original hardwood flooring throughout. The rooms were bright and airy thanks to large windows and custom beveled glass transom windows above the doors. One of Devon’s favorite sights was the way the late afternoon sunlight, filtering through the matching panes on the west wall, cast multicolored mosaics on the oak floor of the entryway. The thick plaster walls provided great insulation from the Florida heat. She dreamed of restoring the old place to its original classic charm. That would take a few years, but she was in no hurry.
