Going on Red

by Lyn Gardner

“That’s not necessary. I’m parked just up the street.”

  “Yeah, but it’s dark, and I’d feel better knowing you got to your car safely.”

  “Miss Shaw, in case you’ve forgotten, I am a police officer. I think I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can, but I am not going to change my mind,” Brodie said, looking Kate square in the eye. “Now, either we can both stand here and freeze our tits off while we argue about it, or you can allow me to escort you to your car.”

  ***

  Kate liked living alone, returning to her house knowing that food remained in the refrigerator, and everything was as she had left it. She liked knowing her magazines and books were stacked neatly on the coffee table, and she enjoyed the peace and quiet after a long day. But as Kate came inside, flicking on a few lights to guide her way, it was almost too quiet. Except for the tick-tock of the clock on the mantle, the house was still, and Kate felt more alone than she had ever felt before.

  Dropping her coat and bag on a chair, she went upstairs and changed into warm flannel pajamas, slipping her feet into fuzzy slippers before going back downstairs to fix a cup of tea. Taking it to the lounge, Kate stared at the darkened fireplace, wishing she had a stockpile of wood because tonight she wanted a fire. She craved the warmth of it, believing that the coziness and comfort it would produce could somehow make the house feel more like a home.

  Kate snuggled into the corner of the sofa, and sipping her tea, she thought about her day, or rather her night. When she left work, she was worn out and irritable, but now her belly was filled with delicious food, and her mind was filled with thoughts of a woman. She was intrigued by Brodie Shaw. First believing her to be arrogant, tonight she had found her charming, and that fact would keep Kate awake until the early hours of the next day.

  Chapter Four

  Arriving at work the following Monday, Kate found out that she was going to be partnered with a recent transfer from another borough. Although it wasn’t standard protocol for Detective Inspectors to work in pairs, Kate had never questioned her Chief’s decisions, and she wasn’t about to start now. Instead, she simply smiled and firmly shook her new partner’s hand…and her week proceeded downhill from there.

  Frank Daggett had been a DI fifteen years longer than Kate, and he made sure she knew it. Boasting about all the arrests he’d made over the years, he gave her a patronizing wink and assured Kate that whatever ropes she needed to be shown, he’d be the man to do it.

  Although supposedly a good detective, Kate found Frank Daggett to be chauvinistic and condescending, and within minutes after being introduced, Kate felt as if she needed a shower. Tall and broad-shouldered, Frank seemed to enjoy using his height to his advantage. From always looking down his nose at Kate to hovering over her while she worked at her desk to reaching over her head to push open a door or grab a file, the man was as oppressive as a hot summer day in a rainforest. It didn’t take one ounce of Kate’s detective skills to know that if the man were transported back to prehistoric times, pounding his fists on his chest would come quite naturally to Frank Daggett.

  Monday had been spent at the station, going over paperwork and familiarizing her new partner with the current cases, so it wasn’t until the next morning when Kate realized she’d only seen the tip of Frank’s machismo iceberg.

  As they walked to the parking area on Tuesday, Frank stated he’d be doing all the driving, and seeing no reason to argue about it, Kate went to hand him her keys. His loud guffaw echoed down the street, and shoving Kate’s hand away, Frank’s chest swelled as he pointed to his car. A second later, Kate deflated like a pin-pricked balloon.

  When it came to automobiles, Kate leaned toward practical. Her Toyota Yaris was reliable, reasonably spacious given its size, and economical. It wasn’t really that fun to drive, but it got Kate where she wanted to go, and that’s what mattered. At least, that’s what mattered to Kate. Frank, on the other hand, wasn’t about practical or economical or even spacious. Frank was all about muscle, and what better way to prove he had it than with a 2007 Ford Mustang Shelby GT.

  It wasn’t that Kate couldn’t appreciate the sporty car with its pristine black paint and polished chrome, but she didn’t want to spend her day in something that rumbled and roared. Thankfully, as she approached the Ford, she noticed there wasn’t a scoop on the hood or racing stripes down the middle, so Kate put her initial reaction aside. After all, first impressions aren’t always spot-on. Maybe Frank wasn’t as macho as she first thought. Maybe Frank was just trying to show off to her like he probably showed off to all his pub mates. Maybe Frank wasn’t aggressive or brash or swollen-headed. Then again…maybe Frank was.

  Kate couldn’t find fault with Frank’s knowledge of the streets of London. It was obvious he knew where he was going without the help of GPS. A few times, Kate learned a shortcut she hadn’t been aware of while Frank drove them around the city working new cases and questioning witnesses, but whatever appreciation Kate gained for Frank’s sense of direction was quickly trumped by something else.

  More than once, Kate had to suppress a gasp at Frank’s lack of driving etiquette. Driving faster than necessary, changing lanes without signals, and making illegal U-turns just because he had a warrant card, no matter how good a detective he was, Frank Daggett was the most dangerous driver Kate had ever met.

  For the rest of the week, Kate occupied the cracked leather seat of the passenger side of Frank’s Mustang, breathing in the smell of stale cigarettes and mustiness that seemed to hang inside the car like a wet blanket. She had blanched as they sped down roads, scrambled to hold onto anything she could while Frank took corners at breakneck speed, and although the seats in the Ford were probably quite comfortable when it had rolled off the assembly line over a decade before, they weren’t any longer.

  ***

  On her way home on Friday night, as Kate passed Calabria, she remembered that Brodie Shaw had mentioned she ate there often. Pulling into the first parking spot she found, Kate trotted up the street and entered the bustling eatery. Just like the week before, the tables were filled with patrons while even more stood in the queue waiting for their turn. Circumventing the crowd, Kate made her way to the dining room in the back and scanning the room, her shoulders fell.

  “She’s not here.”

  Kate turned and recognized the waitress immediately. “Oh, I just thought…she said she ate here quite a bit.”

  “Yeah, almost every Friday, but knowing Brodie, she most likely just hit the clubs early tonight,” Angie said with a snort. “That woman can’t go without her fix of females. That’s for sure.”

  As if Kate had attended The Frank Daggett School of Driving, when she pulled away from the curb a couple of minutes later, she left behind two tracks of burned rubber. She darted in and out of lanes without signaling and spewed road rage adjectives to unsuspecting drivers, except they were innocent. They hadn’t done anything to annoy Kate. That misdeed belonged to someone else.

  ***

  A week later, Angie came from the dining room of the restaurant, and noticing her favorite customer standing at the register, she went over and smiled. “Friday night and not eating in?”

  “No. I’ve got a shitload of work to do, so it’s takeaway tonight,” Brodie said as she opened her wallet.

  “Well, enjoy. Catch you next time.” Angie began to walk away when she stopped and turned back around. “Oh, by the way, that friend of yours came in last week. I think she was looking for you.”

  “What friend?” Brodie asked as she slipped her wallet back into her pocket.

  “That woman you had dinner with a few weeks back. Short, cute…you had the antipasto.”

  “Really?” Brodie said, a grin creasing her face. “Is she here tonight?”

  “No, I haven’t seen her since then. She seemed a bit peeved when she left though.”

  “Peeved? Why?”

  Angie shrugged. “I’m not sure. She asked if you were here. I told her you were
n’t, and since it was Friday night, you were most likely out clubbing like you usually do.” Noticing Brodie wince, Angie’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit, Brodie. Did I just cock something up? She’s not your girlfriend, is she?”

  Brodie took her time processing the information as she grabbed the bag from the counter. “Relax, Angie. You didn’t do anything wrong. She’s not my girlfriend. At least, she isn’t yet.”

  ***

  Gina traipsed into Kate’s dining room and began rearranging the three place settings to make room for one more.

  It was rare Gina didn’t work at her club on Saturday nights. It was the busiest night of the week, and even with two other bartenders pouring shots, mixing drinks, and scurrying to keep up with the wait staff serving the tables, having a third guaranteed they’d have a lucrative night. Gina had realized early on that to have a profitable club, she needed not only a dance floor, good music, and finger food, she also needed to ensure that her thirsty customers never waited too long for their next round. But tonight some of Gina’s customers were going to have to wait a wee bit longer because tonight Kate was making lasagna, and if Kate was making lasagna, Gina knew Devon would be there.

  Since they didn’t travel in the same circles, whenever an opportunity presented itself, Gina jumped at the chance to see Devon, except tonight Devon wasn’t coming alone. Tonight, Devon was bringing a date, and whether he was short and round, blond and tall, or dark and handsome, Gina already hated him. She knew she didn’t have a right to be jealous, to be resentful of a nameless, faceless stranger who had done nothing wrong other than exist, but some things are easier said than done.

  Gina gave the table one last look of disgust before heading back to the kitchen. “Table’s set—again.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said as she finished wrapping the garlic bread in foil.

  Gina went over and yanking the cork from the bottle of Chianti, she topped off her glass. “So…who’s Devon’s plus one?”

  “I haven’t a clue,” Kate said as she put the bread in the oven. “She texted to say she’d been working all day, and she wanted to know if there was enough for four.”

  “Oh.”

  Kate took off her apron and put it aside. “Something wrong?”

  “No. Just wondering.”

  “Okay, but I don’t think you’ll need to wonder for long. They should be here any minute,” Kate said, heading toward the stairs. “I’m going to run up and use the loo. Listen for the bell. Devon always forgets her keys.”

  “Yeah. No problem. I got it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Gina took a gulp of her wine, and then she took another, and staring at her now half-empty glass, she was about to top it off again when the doorbell rang. Taking a deep breath, Gina stood tall and making her way to the entry, she opened the door. “Hey there, stranger,” Gina said, grinning like a fool at Devon Cassidy. “Long time, no see.”

  “Yeah, it’s been too long,” Devon said, and coming inside, she gave Gina a quick peck on her cheek before turning to the woman standing next to her. “Gina, I’d like you to meet a good friend of mine, Brodie Shaw.”

  While the woman next to Devon was definitely tall, dark, and extremely handsome, she was also the wrong gender to be Devon’s date, and Gina’s glee showed on her face. “Very nice to meet you,” she said, holding out her hand. “Gina Parker.”

  If it hadn’t been for the fact Devon had given up her Saturday to consult with Brodie and her clients over the latest and greatest in smart home technology, Brodie would have turned down Devon’s spur-of-the-moment invitation for dinner. The only sustenance Brodie was interested in consuming was found in the clubs she hadn’t been able to visit the night before; however, Devon had spent the entire day with Brodie. She had looked over Brodie’s designs and listened to the homeowners’ needs, and in the end, she had come up with suggestions that weren’t only brilliant, they were profitable as well.

  As Brodie shook Gina’s hand, she couldn’t help but think that the night wasn’t going to be a total waste after all. Even though a certain Detective Inspector had appeared in her dreams more than once, Brodie much preferred reality, and reality was standing right in front of her. Brodie was about to turn on the charm when she heard a floorboard creak. She looked toward the sound and saw Kate Monroe, dressed scrumptiously casual in tight jeans and an even tighter sweater, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “D. I. Monroe,” Brodie said, drinking in the view. “What a nice surprise.”

  “You two know each other?” Devon and Gina chimed in unison.

  Kate nodded as she tried to find her voice, praying that once she had, it wouldn’t sound like she’d just inhaled helium. “Yes. Miss Shaw was a witness on a burglary case a few months back.”

  Gina glanced at Kate and then at Brodie Shaw, and when she saw the look Brodie was giving Kate, everything slotted into place. This was the woman who had called Kate gorgeous, and this was the woman who had wound Kate up tighter than Gina had ever seen her. Gina held back her amusement, but just barely. “Talk about a small world,” she said, her eyes darting back and forth between the two women.

  “Yes,” Kate said, folding her arms across her chest. “Care to tell me how you know my sister, Miss Shaw?”

  Brodie frowned. “Um...she works for me. I mean, she sets up all the techno stuff for my clients. Why?”

  “I just didn’t think she knew someone like you, that’s all.”

  Gina and Devon quickly looked at each other before Gina took charge. “Why don’t we go into the lounge,” she said, hooking her arm through Brodie’s. “Devon, how about getting your friend something to drink?”

  “Sure,” Devon said, watching as Kate stomped into the kitchen. “Be back in a tick.”

  Devon went into the kitchen and hovered over Kate as she pulled the lasagna from the oven. “What in the hell is going on with you?”

  “What are you talking about?” Kate said, turning off the timer.

  “You were a bit rude, don’t you think?”

  “Was I?”

  Devon leaned back in her stance. “Kate, she’s my friend.”

  “Such a great friend, you never thought of mentioning her to me?”

  “Kate, I have a lot of friends I don’t talk to you about, and like Brodie, some of them are people who hire me to do work for them. What’s the problem?”

  “She’s a player, Devon,” Kate said, tossing the oven mitt on the stove. “And you shouldn’t have anything to do with her.”

  Devon’s mouth dropped open as she stared at her sister. “Why? Because she likes to have a good time? So what?”

  “What?”

  “Kate, I’ve known Brodie for a few years now. I know she likes to go clubbing, and I know she enjoys a good time, and it’s no big deal.”

  “Well, it is for me.”

  “What has gotten into you?” Devon said, staring at her sister like she’d grown another head. “You’ve never judged my friends before. What makes Brodie so different?”

  Kate took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Can we just drop this and have dinner?” she said, yanking the oven mitts back on. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner she’ll leave.”

  ***

  Ordinarily, dinner conversation and cheekiness ran rampant whenever Devon, Gina, and Kate got together, but throughout the meal, Kate had remained virtually silent. While the other women chatted about technology, music, and movies, she sat at the end of the table, occasionally stealing glances of Brodie Shaw. Wearing a green V-neck sweater and straight-legged jeans, Brodie appeared comfortable and relaxed, and as each minute passed, Kate’s annoyance grew.

  Brodie had tried several times to get Kate to join in the conversation, and each attempt had been met by a steely glower leaving Brodie somewhere between perplexed and perturbed. After their dinner at Calabria, Kate’s attitude seemed to have softened, yet tonight it was as cold and hard as concrete. Brodie wasn’t exactly sure what she had done to once again fall out of Kate’s favo
r, but by the time dinner was over, Brodie had had enough of the woman’s boorish behavior. Although she volunteered to help clear the dishes, when Gina shooed her away, Brodie leapt at the chance for some fresh air. Grabbing her coat, she hurried out the door, and reaching her car in record time, Brodie snagged her emergency pack of smokes from the glove box. She had all but quit months before, only buckling to her past addiction when her mood was altered by alcohol or anger, and one glass of Chianti hadn’t even made a dent.

  Brodie ripped off the cellophane wrapper and was about to tap out a cigarette when the front door opened, and Devon appeared. Knowing if she lit a smoke Devon would put it out just as quickly, Brodie pocketed the pack and waited until Devon got closer before saying a word. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?”

  “What are you talking about? You knew I had a sister.”

  “A sister named Kathryn—yes. Not a sister named Kate, who also happens to be a copper. It seems you left that part out, and I want to know why. I thought we were friends.”

  “We are friends. You’re like my best friend, but you visit lesbian clubs all the time, and Gina owns one of the largest. I was afraid if you ever went to G-Street and started chatting up Gina, somehow you’d end up mentioning my name, and then she’d find out I was gay…and tell Kate.”

  “Do you have any idea how stupid that sounds?” Brodie growled. “Do you honestly think I’d go into a club, start up a conversation with the bartender, and then talk about my closeted friend, let alone mention your bloody name?”

  Devon’s eyes filled with tears, and she bowed her head. “Maybe it sounds stupid to you, but…oh, Brodie, I’m so scared. I’m always scared.”

  Brodie’s face fell, her scowl vanishing as Devon’s words hit home. During her last year in college, Brodie volunteered her time two nights a week answering phones at an LGBTQ help center. Her job was to listen and provide support and information and to connect those in crisis with counselors and therapists when things turned dire. It had been years since Brodie had heard a voice crack with emotion from the fear of being outed, but all those voices came back to her as she stood in the cold, moist night air watching as Devon trembled in front of her.