Lightning Chasers

by Cass Sellars

  Sergeant Sandy Curran’s five foot nine frame was thick but she kept in decent shape, evidenced by a tailored black tuxedo sans the bow tie. She’d opted instead for a nontraditional shirt with the top button unfastened. Her partner Mia wore a long green dress adding to the dramatic portrait sketched by her curly red hair and emerald-colored eyes. She stood just an inch or two shorter than Sandy and Mack thought they looked good together. She was happy for her oldest friend and watched Sandy hold Mia’s hand tightly as they walked to the car.

  “Smurf!” Sandy slid across the back seat and leaned over to peck Jenny on the cheek. She clapped Mack on the shoulder. Mack laughed at the nickname Sandy had devised for Sergeant M. R. Foster shortly after their promotions ceremony six years earlier. Once she decided her initials spelled SMRF, she’d never let it die.

  “Sandy Feet! Long time, no see,” Mack lobbed back. “Mia, you look stunning as always.”

  Jenny turned to offer a half hug to Mia as Mack drove toward the venue.

  “Thank you, Mack. How does it feel to have grown-up date night?”

  “We’re somewhere between ridiculously excited adults and woefully neglectful parents,” Jenny responded, glancing over at Mack who nodded in agreement. “But considering she barely looked my way when I left her with Maggie and her sheepdog, I guess I should quit thinking about it.”

  “Good idea,” Mack scolded lightheartedly. “I’m not even on call tonight, so I plan on enjoying twenty-four hours of freedom.”

  “I’m with you. I don’t go back until nineteen hundred tomorrow night. I could use a little R & R.” Sandy sounded relieved to have a few hours away from the bustle of the patrol division. “Even though this is sort of a command performance for you, Detective.”

  “It seems you’re actually the official rep for the Lesbian Cop Guild, San,” Mack joked, referring to a recent newspaper interview profiling female police officers in Silver Lake. They had not been circumspect about Sandy’s orientation.

  “Funny, we both know all that means is I get more sideways glances and a few less propositions.”

  “Really? I just get eyes-down bypasses in the hallway and people who stop talking when I enter a room.” Mack glanced in the mirror at Sandy.

  “Maybe they’re just devising how to put us on the next recruiting poster for a more diverse police department.”

  “Very funny. That would mean that the chief and her lackeys would have to acknowledge that there are already a dozen of us in our little department. And we all know that isn’t on the agenda.” Mack fingered her index card notes for the evening’s speech.

  “A dozen and one, Smurf. I’m pretty sure Lora Hayman in Records might break out of the closet anytime now.”

  “She does always look like she might burst into flames when we’re around, so you might be right. I’ll leave the welcome kit to you.”

  * * *

  The vision of Sydney standing in her signature black suit and white collared shirt made Parker stare appreciatively. The Prada jacket clung to her broad shoulders and the bright white of the shirt made her coal black hair look even darker.

  Syd leaned against the tall painted column near the kitchen and Parker could see her watching. She attached an earring as she walked down the hall toward her. She wore a short black cocktail sheath and strappy heels, raising her five foot four inch height closer to that of her six foot tall lover.

  “You know I can’t focus when you dress like that.” Sydney smiled and looked approvingly at Parker preparing for their Saturday night event.

  “You’ll be concentrating on drumming up new business, love.” The way Sydney looked at her made her feel like a runway model every time. And the sight of Sydney in the formal ensemble never failed to make Parker’s stomach find all the butterflies that she thought should have been gone by the relationship’s anniversary mark.

  “How about we stay home and I’ll have my way with you, instead?” Sydney suggested.

  Parker watched Sydney’s gray eyes flash and she leaned against her. She had never imagined feeling so connected to anyone before. “How about you let me just enjoy being on your arm? I get to be the luckiest woman in any room when I walk in with you, you know.” Parker rolled to her toes and pressed her lips against Sydney’s. “Afterward you can have me any way you want me.” Her voice was seductive as she closed her eyes briefly and breathed in the scent of Sydney’s skin and expensive cologne.

  Sydney’s arms encircled Parker’s waist and trapped her there. “Deal.” She winked as she leaned in to take her mouth possessively, skimming her fingers underneath Parker’s hair. “Plan on being up very late.”

  “I love you, you know,” Parker said locking into Sydney’s gaze.

  “I know that. Almost as much as I love you.”

  * * *

  Three soaring white tents graced the lush green lawns of City Park for the Silver Lake event of the year. Limos deposited flashy social climbers at the steps while well-dressed valets waited for the guests who opted to drive personal vehicles up a long path from the street.

  Although Silver Lake was a relatively small city, its proximity to the nation’s capital drew an abundance of wealthy residents looking for their peace and quiet outside the rumble of the Beltway. Similarly, medium to large sized companies hung their shingles in Silver Lake, allowing them to save on real estate but enjoy the closeness to DC for both their clients and their employees. The city worked hard to foster goodwill with those citizens and their companies, not to mention to preserve their contribution to the city’s tax base, so they wined and dined them every summer when Silver Lake held the Silver Stars Ball.

  Syd had laughed when she’d opened the gold trimmed parchment inviting her as a guest of the DA’s office, one of her largest clients. Syd imagined her mother, a member of a city council committee, fainting at the prospect of attending such an event with her only daughter. Sydney would admit that had been at least half the reason she had accepted the invitation. Of course fostering new potential client relationships was also useful. Attorneys were always looking for her video reconstruction expertise, which helped them win favor with many a jury.

  Syd glided the black Porsche 911 to the curb and strode confidently to the passenger side, nodding at the attending valet who held Parker’s door as she collected her from the passenger seat.

  “Chivalry is certainly not dead,” Parker remarked as she slipped a hand through Sydney’s elbow. Syd considered it a small thing, but she relished Parker’s appreciation. As they ascended the steps toward the tents, the cadence of their silent walk together was an effortless dance, one Syd believed they had been practicing for their whole lives. Tiki torches lined the narrow approach, creating a well-lit path as they made the long climb to the graceful landing under a painted arbor.

  Syd stopped just as they reached the top, turning to face Parker. She guided both hands down her back, coursing the tips of her fingers along the zipper. “In case I ever forget to tell you, you are the best thing that has ever happened in my life.” Sydney stroked her fingers under Parker’s hair and delivered a slow kiss against her forehead reinforcing the message that Parker had become, and would always be, Sydney Hyatt’s world.

  Syd, once addicted to casual affairs with less-than-substantial women, took every opportunity to remind Parker that those days were far behind her.

  Parker breathed raggedly, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll take it…forever.”

  “Remember that when I act like a jerk, okay?” Syd smoothed a hand across Parker’s bare shoulder.

  “Deal.” Parker snaked her arms around Sydney’s neck and held her tightly before they steered through the gauzy curtains.

  Sydney held the draping away from the entrance as they both ducked through. The huge white tent boasted giant crystal chandeliers that hung from billowing linen draped low over the created space, easily the length of a football field. A sea of white-cloaked chairs and tables were set off by gauzy fuchsia sashes and coor
dinated centerpieces of stargazer lilies and baby’s breath. White-painted panels created table platforms and walkways, and a dance floor at the opposite end of the long expanse. A few couples sat chatting at the tables while others mingled in the growing crowd, issuing obligatory air-kisses and enthusiastic handshakes. The night air carried the fragrance of lilies and fresh cut grass.

  “Wow, it’s really beautiful.” Parker looked at Sydney and stood tightly against her. “It’s kind of like a fairy tale, huh?”

  Sydney stroked her hand and admired the genuine way Parker embraced their moments together. She turned as a tall female figure made her way through the tables in their direction. “More like a fairy tale than you thought—here comes the evil witch.”

  Parker followed Syd’s gaze until she saw her. Pamela Hyatt wore a long bronze column skirt and matching jacket in slightly iridescent taffeta. An abundance of gold jewelry dripped from her skin making her look rather like an overdecorated Oscar statue. Her dark hair streaked with pewter strands was cut into a shoulder-length bob, framing a creased face and her trademark dour expression. It was amusing to watch it transform when some political player got within ten feet of her. Her countenance became instantly open and friendly, smiling broadly at whoever bestowed attention upon her.

  Syd’s mother looked them over just as they entered the bar area and she scowled in their direction.

  “Apparently she was expecting her other daughter this evening,” Syd jested. She was an only child.

  Parker knew that seeing her mother hurt Syd. She always fought to ignore her mother’s obvious disapproval of her life. She would never admit that it was more than an inconsequential irritation, but Parker felt the brief crack in Sydney’s resolve every time she was forced to face her.

  Syd turned toward Parker. “Watch out,” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on something far away, over Parker’s head. “The jackal is descending.”

  Parker slid her arm more firmly into Sydney’s as they stepped away from the bar with their drinks. They sipped casually as the dour widow marched toward them on dyed-to-match bronze satin heels.

  “I wasn’t aware you would be attending, Victoria.” The air seemed to thicken at her arrival and her clipped delivery, aimed at Sydney’s back.

  Syd turned reluctantly. “And good evening to you, too. Would you like to verify my invitation, Pamela?” Sydney had long since stopped referring to the bitter woman as Mother.

  “I just came over to ask you something. Could you please…could you show some”—she seemed to struggle with her word choice—“decorum this evening, simply out of respect for the distinguished attendees who will be here tonight, of course.”

  Sydney took a long draw of her scotch, unmistakably choosing her response carefully. “Do you think you could be more specific, Pamela?” Sydney sounded weary as she regarded the woman who took every opportunity to attempt to belittle her daughter.

  “Perhaps you could refrain from flaunting your…whatever this is.” She swept a scathing finger between Sydney and Parker, who accepted her lover’s strong arm around her shoulders. “Not during this evening. It’s uncomfortable for our guests to see you demonstrating that type of behavior.” The words seemed to create a foul taste in her mouth and produced an even more sour expression on her face.

  Parker squeezed against Sydney when her muscles tensed at the exchange. Sydney’s jaw flexed as she squared her shoulders. The elder Hyatt was tall but Sydney was taller and much more imposing as she prepared to address her mother’s latest inappropriate commentary on her life.

  “So, Pamela, does that mean I shouldn’t hold her hand, or would you rather I didn’t French kiss her over the sorbet at Table One?” Sydney delighted in delivering such a blunt hammer blow to her sad excuse for a parent.

  A look of utter revulsion crossed Pamela Hyatt’s face.

  Sydney leaned against Parker and said, “I think I need a refill, you?” She locked eyes with Parker and forced the interaction with Pamela to fade into the periphery.

  “That would be fabulous, love.”

  Syd could see Pamela watching them walk away. She didn’t spare another glance in her direction but she grazed her hand across Parker’s back and down, just briefly, over her bottom, for effect. She smiled as she heard her mother cluck her derision before her fake voice swiped over some unfortunate new target.

  “Do you know how much I hate that woman?” Syd rotated her shoulders attempting to release the tension that had built there.

  “I have some idea.” Parker lifted onto her toes to kiss her cheek. “She’s just trying to impress everyone. Her opinions mean nothing, love.”

  As Pamela stalked away, Jen and Mack breezed through the drapes. Mack greeted Syd with a firm handshake. “Too late for the floor show?”

  “Unfortunately. But not much variation on the regular theme. You know, mother embarrassed by deviant and hopes I will agree to pretend we aren’t related.” Sydney’s tone was wry and tired.

  Mack shook her head and Sydney attempted to dispel the residing bad temper that had taken hold of her.

  “You know she’s on the Concerned Citizens’ Coalition for the city council now?” Mack looked toward Sydney’s mother who was accepting polite embraces from members of the city council. “I don’t understand what exactly they are concerned about—their mission statement seems a bit thin. It buys her a seat at the table, I suppose.”

  “Speaking of, are we sitting together?” Jen asked hopefully of Mack, reaching for her hand and skillfully changing the subject.

  “I listed all our names when I RSVP’d.” Mack nodded at a table near the stage. “Sandy and Mia are sitting with us, too.” Mack indicated Mia and Sandy still wading through the crowd.

  “Wow, six lesbians at the same table—my mother might just call in the CDC.” Sydney drained her drink and slid it onto a passing tray.

  The rooms slowly filled with local dignitaries and the who’s who of city government. Syd watched Sandy stop to speak briefly with a member of the command staff before walking with Mia to the bar.

  When they reached the table, Sandy exchanged a hearty embrace with Sydney. “How’s business, President Hyatt?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” Sydney replied happily. “How is fighting crime street side?”

  “Maybe Sandy will tell you why we never see her outside of newspapers and banquets, Syd,” Mack lobbed at Sandy as Mia maneuvered around to introduce herself to Parker.

  “Um,” Sandy returned, “because you can make one case last a month or better and I have a hundred blue shirts busy harassing the public to deal with.” They laughed as they regaled the table with the tale of their first traffic stop together. A well-known citizen had screamed to a late night crowd a warning that they should watch carefully since the Silver Lake Police were intent on harassing the public for no reason. He had blown a .25 into the Breathalyzer just before passing out on the blacktop.

  “So what was your tête-à-tête about when you came in?” Syd asked and Mia rolled her eyes, groaning playfully at the question.

  Sandy caught her girlfriend’s hand and kissed it briefly. “I promised no shop talk tonight but let’s just say I’m still a detective at heart.” The former detective in the white collar crimes division was vocal about the fact that she missed the challenge of investigations. “Patrol sergeants get to hand off cases and maybe never see them again. It’s not in my nature to let someone else play. I’m working on trusting that someone will listen to me one day.”

  “You mean to tell me that people don’t feel compelled to work on a case that doesn’t spell a promotion? I can’t imagine.” Sarcasm dripped from Sydney’s lips as she shook the ice in her glass.

  “Ah, so you’ve met some of our esteemed commanders?” Sandy looked at her with amusement.

  “One of them and my mother scheme to save the world from anyone not worthy of oxygen in their opinion.” Her jaw clenched as she scanned the room and located her mother speaking animatedly with Major William
s.

  Sandy’s eyes grew huge. “I never put it together before. Pamela Hyatt is your mother?” She gawked briefly.

  Syd smiled drolly and ran an absent finger around the rim of the glass. “Well, we’ve never actually had confirmation from her home planet, but it is a fairly persistent rumor.” A sneer overtook her attempt at a grin.

  Despite the moratorium on department-related chatter, Mack and Sandy continued to recount tales of their rookie days over dinner. Syd appraised the duo; their genuine admiration for each other was evident. Their enduring friendship was solid.

  Chapter Three

  As the meal drew to an end with the arrival of a decadent chocolate dessert garnished with fresh raspberries and whipped cream, staff in white coats and black slacks rapidly buzzed around the room filling coffee cups and clearing plates before the spirited sounds of the crowd fell into a retreating hush. Pamela Hyatt climbed the short stairs to assume her post behind the podium. Sydney was continually mystified how her mother contributed practically nothing valuable to the running of the city but still managed to ingratiate herself with the movers and shakers of the community.

  Her normally pinched expression spilled into a broad smile at her audience. Sydney thought a good audience might be something she loved more than anything.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Parker turned in her chair toward the stage and leaned slightly against Sydney’s chest. She closed her eyes and savored the jolt of electricity that still found her body every time they touched. Sydney turned Parker’s face gently, softly grazing a kiss over her cheek.

  “Love you,” Sydney whispered as Parker smiled and drew Syd’s arm tighter around her shoulders.

  Pamela continued, “What a pleasure to see all of you, our esteemed citizens and city leaders. The other cities in Fairfax County are certainly poorer for this gathering tonight, am I right?”

  A smattering of applause greeted her painfully awkward attempt at a joke, Parker observed, entertained by the fact that Pamela actually clapped for herself.