by Diane Kelly
“Sure will.”
We jumped back as Mackey’s shiny black pickup careened into the lot, tires screeching. What an ass. I was tempted to write him a ticket for reckless driving.
He braked to a quick stop in the spot next to Summer’s car, the rubber truck nuts hanging from his trailer hitch swinging wildly. He slid out, bleeped the door locks, and went into the station to clock in. When he came back outside, he sauntered over. “Let’s go,” he barked at Summer, swinging an arm to point to her squad car on the far side of the lot.
She was unfazed. “Not yet, buckaroo.” She smiled sweetly. “Officer Luz needs to speak with you first.”
He cut her a harsh look and turned to me, his lip twitching in a sneer. There was no love lost between the two of us. He’d never forgive me for Tasering him in the groin last year. But, hell, he’d asked for it by making one crude comment too many and pushing me over the edge.
While I’d like to say I regretted my momentary lapse of judgment and self-control, it would be a lie. How could I regret the incident that ended my partnership with a grade-A shithead and resulted in me being teamed with Brigit instead?
Derek and the chief of police were tight. The two were hunting buddies and spent time together regularly outside of work. As a result, the Taser incident had been kept quiet, the chief realizing I could bring his golden boy down with me if I repeated the filthy comments Derek had made. Still, Chief Garelik had given me an ultimatum. Pair with a K-9 or turn in my resignation. At first I’d been hesitant. I wasn’t sure a dog would make a good partner. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Brigit was loyal and dedicated, and she had special skills that enabled us to do things other partners could never accomplish. She was a good listener, too, always having a ready ear when I needed to talk things out. And she performed watchdog duty at home, too, which was an added benefit. Taking care of her 24/7 tied me down a little and I didn’t enjoy having to pick up her poop, but these sacrifices were small compared to what she brought to my life.
“Well?” Mackey snapped. “What do you want, Luz?”
“You handled a call a while b-back,” I said, “at the home of a woman named Adriana Valdez. Do you remember her?”
“I only remember the hot chicks,” he said. “Even then I never remember their names.”
Derek’s charm knew no bounds. Blurgh. I figured a few details might jar his memory. “Her car alarm had gone off in the middle of the night and she suspected her ex-boyfriend had thrown a tennis ball at her car. Does that ring a bell?”
“Now I remember.” A lecherous grin spread across his face. “She was the chica with the tight little—”
“Besides that,” I snapped, “what were your thoughts?”
He grunted. “She was getting her panties in a wad over nothing. Even if her ex did throw a ball at her car, it was a harmless prank.”
Summer and I exchanged glances. A lunk like Derek wouldn’t understand how a woman might feel threatened to know her ex had been cruising by her house, keeping an unwelcome eye on her, showing that he harbored enough resentment to want to cause her some grief.
Though I doubted this conversation with Derek was going to yield any useful information, I might as well see it through, right? “Did anything make you believe she’d set off her car alarm herself?”
“That’s a stupid question.” He frowned. “Why the hell would she do that?”
Summer and I exchanged another glance. Derek was clearly not a deep thinker. Like me, he wanted to make detective someday. I doubted he had what it took. He was more physical than intellectual, with more bravado than brains. He was much better suited for SWAT than investigative work.
I didn’t bother explaining to Derek that it was possible Adriana might be trying to frame her ex. All I said was, “There was another incident at her place last night. We need to keep a close eye on her house and her ex’s apartment for a while. I’ve given Summer the addresses.”
With a jut of his chin in acknowledgment, Derek turned to Summer. “Let’s roll.”
“Head on to the cruiser, cowboy,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Whatever.” He walked off, heading toward their squad car.
I eyed her. “Is there something else we need to talk about?”
“No,” she whispered, a naughty gleam in her eye. “I just like pushing Mackey’s buttons. He hates those pet names I keep calling him, and he hates to wait for anyone.”
I held my palm out at my waist and she gave me a discreet low five. Slap. Seeing our exchange and not to be left out, Brigit raised her paw. Summer gave Brigit a low five, too.
Brigit and I set out on our shift. I wrote a speeding ticket, directed traffic around a fender bender, and raised a hand in greeting to a group of junior high kids gathered in the parking lot of a small neighborhood pizza place. “You kids be careful, now!” I called through the open window of my cruiser. Of course what I actually meant was, Don’t do something stupid or I’ll be back here to bust your asses.
I cruised by Adriana’s and Ryan’s places a dozen times that night, but the only suspicious thing I saw was a small gray possum sneaking out from under Adriana’s porch. The nocturnal beast must have been what Brigit was trying to get at earlier. The possum’s movement activated Adriana’s new motion-sensing lights, turning a spotlight on him as if he was starring in his own Broadway musical. The little creature froze, his expression reading What just happened here?
The lights inside Adriana’s place went off around eleven. Ryan’s place went dark around midnight. Good night, folks. Sleep tight.
As I rolled through Ryan’s apartment complex again around two in the morning, Brigit whined to let me know she needed a potty break. “I hear ya, girl.”
I parked in an unreserved spot in the center of the lot and let Brigit out of the cruiser, not bothering to attach her leash. At this late hour, no one was out and about. The only sounds were the rhythmic chirp of the crickets and the hum of the air-conditioning units as they battled the heat and humidity.
Brigit followed me to a small grassy area between Ryan’s building and the one next door. After squatting to relieve herself, she sniffed around the bushes and trees, checking things out.
As long as we were out of the car, we might as well perform a more complete surveillance, right? I softly called for Brigit to follow me, and we tiptoed up the stairs to the landing outside Ryan’s apartment. Tonight, his porch was clear. The newspaper had been removed, along with two bricks I’d left when I collected the other one for evidence.
Had he cleared his porch to prevent Adriana from taking something else she could use to implicate him? Who knew? Certainly not me.
Only the two of them knew the truth.
Too bad I wasn’t a mind reader.
* * *
I worked the night shift the rest of the week and continued to cruise by Adriana’s house and Ryan’s apartment every hour or so. On one of my rounds, I crossed paths in the apartment parking lot with a patrol car from a private security company. The white sedan sported a single flashing orange light on top and the company’s logo, which approximated a police shield, on the front doors. I rolled to a stop and stuck my hand out the window to get the driver’s attention.
The car pulled up next to me and the window lowered to reveal a man who looked to be in his late sixties. Despite his age, he was nonetheless in trim shape, with a thick head of gray hair and alert eyes. “Everything okay, Officer?”
“Just wanted to see if you’d noticed anything unusual the past few days.”
“As in…?” He paused and raised his brows, inviting me to fill in the blank.
“Unusual activity late at night? Someone sneaking around, or coming and going at odd hours?”
“Haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary,” he said.
I cocked my head and eyed the man intently. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure thing.”
“Keep a close eye on unit 206,” I told him. “The gu
y who lives there had a recent breakup and there’s been some strife between him and his ex.” I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out my business card. “If you happen to notice anything odd, let me know.”
“I’ll do that.” He took the card and slid it under a strap on his visor.
With that, the two of us went about our business.
Other than another possum sighting at Adriana’s house, nothing out of the ordinary caught my eye. No calls came in, either. Whichever one of them had thrown the brick had apparently decided to behave himself or herself. With any luck, their situation had resolved itself and whoever had been acting out had decided to stop being petty and get a life.
While I hoped Adriana and Ryan were moving on, I was beginning to think Seth was moving in. He’d showed up with fresh bagels Thursday morning as Brigit and I returned home from our shift. While I dozed with a box fan running to drown out the noise, he mowed and trimmed the lawn as Brigit and Blast played in the yard. When I woke in mid-afternoon, I found him in my bathroom shaving, getting ready to head to the station. He wore only a towel around his waist and a thick layer of shaving cream on his face.
I leaned against the door frame, admiring his muscular physique. No doubt about it, Seth was quite a catch. Unlike Ryan, Seth had obvious reasons to sport a big ego. Fortunately, he didn’t.
His gaze met mine in the mirror. “Are you ogling me?”
“Maybe.”
He held the razor aloft and arched a brow. “Want me to lose the towel?”
“I want you to wash the towels. And then do the dishes and sweep and mop the kitchen.”
He scoffed in jest. “Fixing you waffles Monday and taking care of your yard today wasn’t enough? I’m beginning to feel taken for granted.” He sent me a wink and went back to shaving.
I continued to watch him. Although we’d become very comfortable with each other, there was still a lot about Seth I didn’t know. He tended to be short on details, and didn’t like to talk about anything too emotional. I’d learned to read his signals, though. The set of his jaw. The distance in his gaze. The vertical lines, or lack thereof, between his eyes as he thought. And damned if I didn’t want to know more about him, to meet the grandfather who’d raised him, the man he’d continued to live with despite their obvious antagonism. Heck, Seth and I had been dating for months. It was due time, right? Still, I knew he had to get to the station and didn’t have time for what might be a prolonged debate. I’d soon find a more opportune time to broach the subject.
“Careful with that chin dimple,” I warned.
He cut me a sexy smile as he ran the razor down his cheek. “Always am.”
FIFTEEN
PACK
Brigit
She and Blast tussled in the fresh-cut grass, rolling around and playfully chewing each other’s necks. Blast was a beta male, which made him easy to get along with. When it came to food and toys and the best spots to sleep, he deferred to Brigit, just as he should. She was an alpha female, a doggie diva.
While Brigit knew she and Megan formed a two-member pack, she liked it when Seth and Blast came around. Maybe someday all four of them could be in a pack together.
A brown squirrel taunted the dogs from its place in the pecan tree. Chit-chit-chit!
How dare a mere rodent speak to her that way!
In an instant, Brigit was off her back, barking, and leaping as high as she could up the trunk of the tree. It wasn’t high enough to catch the squirrel, but at least she’d scared it off. It scampered across the limbs into the adjacent yard.
Stay out of my yard! You’re asking for it, you dumb nut-eater!
SIXTEEN
ANOTHER PLAN B
The Devoted One
The broken window hadn’t worked, and neither had the silence. There’d been no communication, no card or e-mail or phone call saying, “I’ve missed you and come to my senses. Let’s put this nonsense behind us and get back together.”
Time to rethink things.
Absence might make the heart grow fonder, but only for so long. At some point, the heart no longer grows fonder, it begins to wander. No way would the Devoted One let that heart be stolen away by someone else.
It’s time to get back in touch.
SEVENTEEN
AND A PINCH TO GROW AN INCH
Megan
On Saturday afternoon, the fire chief presided over the graduation ceremony for the fire academy graduates. It was held in a large meeting room in the Forth Worth City Hall on Throckmorton Street. Seth, Blast, Brigit, and I sat in the audience, along with Frankie’s boyfriend Zach. Zach was a former paratrooper and a buddy of Seth’s from their army circles. Zach was tall, like Frankie, standing six feet two inches. Like Seth, he continued to wear his hair in a short, military-style cut, but where Seth’s hair was blond Zach’s was dark brown. He worked as a supervisor in the shipping department of the Miller Brewing Company in south Fort Worth.
Frankie’s parents were also in attendance, and sat in the third row with us. It was clear Frankie got her height from her father. Her mother, on the other hand, stood a mere five feet. But her mother didn’t let her short stature hold her back. When the fire chief called out the name “Francesca Kerrigan,” her mother leaped to her feet, pumped her fist, and let out a loud whoop! The rest of us applauded, and Zach added a whistle. Needless to say, we were happy for Frankie.
From the platform, Frankie turned and waved, beaming with pride at her accomplishment. She’d spent the last few years stocking groceries at night, not sure what she wanted to do with her life. It was Seth who’d first suggested the idea of firefighting to Frankie. I’d like to think that I was the magical kismet that had led her to discovering her life’s purpose. But maybe I was just trying to flatter myself, to think my life served some cosmic objective. It seemed preferable to accepting that life was merely a series of random events with no inherent goal.
After the ceremony, we gathered around Frankie to congratulate her.
“Good job, Francesca!” her father bellowed, enveloping her in a warm hug.
Her mother gave her a playful jab in the arm. “That’s my girl!”
Zach draped an arm over her shoulders and pulled her toward him to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Any word on the position at Seth’s station?”
“About that,” Seth said before Frankie could reply. “I was told I could give you the good news.”
Frankie’s blue eyes popped wide. “Good news? I got the job, then?”
Seth nodded. “You start Monday at seven A.M.”
“Hot damn!”
“Don’t get too excited.” He flashed a mischievous grin. “Rookies always get put on cleaning detail. Come prepared to scrub the floors.”
The six of us went out afterward for a celebratory dinner and drinks at a hibachi restaurant. In an ironic twist of fate, Frankie’s mother unintentionally set her cocktail napkin too close to the hot grill. When the napkin burst into flame across the table, I gestured wildly with my hand and shrieked. “Fire!”
In a quick, smooth motion, Frankie snatched up the napkin and dunked it into her glass of water, dousing the flames. Yep, looked like firefighting was her destiny.
When dinner was over, we returned to our house. I’d ordered a cake decorated to look like a fire truck and hung police cordon tape as improvised streamers around the kitchen. Thank you, taxpayers of Fort Worth. Zoe jumped up onto the table and licked at the frosting, but we caught her before she got too far.
“No cake for you, kitty,” I said, scooping her up and setting her back on the floor.
I gave Frankie a hug as I handed her the piece of cake I’d cut. “You’re going to do great.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.” I also knew she was in for some very harrowing shifts and that she’d be faced with people and events, both good and bad, that would stay with her forever. Such is the life of a first responder. The job could take both a physical and emotional toll, but for those called to it, th
ere was no other job that could bring the same sense of fulfillment.
* * *
On Sunday, I left Brigit at home while I went to mass with my family. My brothers Daniel and Connor had come home from college for the weekend, which meant they’d either run out of money and had come to beg for some funds, or they’d given in to my mother’s incessant guilt trips. Regardless of their reasons, I didn’t want to miss the chance to see them. It wasn’t often these days that all seven members of my family were in the same place at the same time, and no way was I going to be the party pooper who kept the family from being complete.
My parents sat at either end of their five children in the pew, a habit formed when we kids were young and sometimes acted up in church. They’d strategically kept all of us within arm’s reach, ready to smack us with the bulletin if we misbehaved. Though none of us had received a smack in years, traditions die hard.
After mass, we went to my parents’ house in the Arlington Heights neighborhood for lunch. The three-bedroom, two-bath, one-story house bore faded yellow paint and peeling trim. While there had been a row of bushes along the front of the house when I was young, several had succumbed to either the hard freezes over various winters or the severe heat and droughts of any number of summers. Three struggling bushes remained, positioned randomly, two on one side of the centered front porch, one on the other. Obviously, the Luz home had never been considered for a yard-of-the-month award.
Mom, who was as much a cook as she was a gardener, threw together a platter of simple sandwiches, augmented by store-bought macaroni salad, a bag of corn chips, and a jar of dill pickles.
My sister Gabby lived up to her name, rambling on about the driver’s ed course she was taking. Her sixteenth birthday was coming up and she couldn’t wait to get her license, even if the only vehicle she’d have access to was the 1993 Buick Regal my father had bought when he first began working at the GM plant in nearby Arlington over two decades ago. Gabby would have to share the car with Joey, who was a year older. But still, wheels are wheels, and the ancient car would get her from point A to point B. Not in style, maybe, but at least in comfort.
