He pulled open the fridge. Nothing but a small block of moldy cheese and a couple of hard-as-bullets donuts leftover from who-knew-when. He chucked them into the trash and tried to douse the grumbling in his belly with another swig of Niemeyer’s black death.
“Looking for this?”
He spun around. Niemeyer held out a white bag emblazoned with the blessed Doctor’s Office Café emblem and emitting the scent of their delicious breakfast burritos. He grinned and snatched the bag. “Careful there. Your wings are starting to show.”
She smiled. “I know. Listen, Carcen I’m sorr—”
“Shannon? It’s forgotten. We’re all good.”
Her face reddened, but she seemed to take him at his word. With a nod, she headed back to the main room.
Offering up a quick prayer of thanks, he dug into the first of the three breakfast wraps inside.
He was just finishing the third when Harry showed up. The man was wearing a baseball uniform emblazoned with the fire department logo.
“Harry! I’m crushed.” Carcen clutched at his chest. “Didn’t you play for the good guys last year?”
Harry chuckled. “Hey I get clients from both you guys. I have to spread the love a little!”
Carcen grinned. He did understand but he wasn’t about to let the man off too easy. This morning’s game was to benefit both the Friday Harbor fire department and the police station. Neither force was big enough to staff a whole team themselves, so they relied on local volunteers to fill in the empty slots for each side. Despite the fact that he sat behind a desk for a living, Harry was a first-rate pitcher.
Harry folded his arms. “So listen… I need to do a little warming up. Any chance this could wait till after the game today? I’m free all afternoon.”
Carcen clenched his jaw. He really wanted to find out anything Dawson knew, but he wasn’t going to be able to do anything with it till Monday anyhow. He supposed a few hours couldn’t hurt. He clapped Harry on the back. “Alright. Let’s play the game first so I can send one of your fast balls sailing right back over your head to the other side of the fence.”
Harry chuckled.
“Niemeyer?” Carcen called. She would be none too happy that she’d come in early this morning for nothing.
“Yeah?” she poked her head into the break room.
“Can you put him back in his cell?” He gave her a sheepish smile. “We’ll pull him out again after lunch. Harry wants to go warm up for the game.”
Niemeyer rolled her eyes but nodded her consent.
“Alright. See you out there, then.” With that, Harry jogged out the door.
Shannon was just pushing Dawson, hands cuffed behind his back, ahead of her toward the cells when Randy stepped into the station. Since he lived just a couple blocks away, Carcen had offered to give him a ride to the big game.
Carcen grinned at him, taking in the police department logo on his uniform, glad he would play for their team this year. The man looked positively uncomfortable out of his normal suit and tie but he had a mean swing and a keen eye.
Randy tugged at the knees of his baseball pants and eyed Dawson warily as if the man might leap across the room and attack him where he stood.
Dawson glowered at Randy as he passed him but only said over his shoulder to Niemeyer, “What’s a guy got to do to get a cup of coffee around here?”
“What? The late dinner Sanchez brought you last night isn’t going to keep you through the day?” Shannon rolled her eyes at Carcen with an expression that said, He really thinks we aren’t going to feed him?
Carcen gestured to Randy with Dawson’s file. “I just need to lock up this file and I’ll be right with you.”
Rubbing his hands together, Randy nodded, still seeming distracted by the prisoner. Or was it the officer? Carcen grinned. Niemeyer would be a challenge like none his friend had ever faced, he felt sure.
He locked the file in his desk drawer and when he stepped out of his office a moment later, Randy was handing a Styrofoam cup of steaming black coffee to Niemeyer who thanked him and returned down the hall apparently to hand it off to Dawson.
“We’d better get going. I still need to get changed, and swing by Dev’s place to pick up her and Marissa.”
Randy’s eyes lit up. “Alright! Let’s get to it then.”
Carcen did his best not to glower at his friend as they headed out to his truck.
Devynne glanced over the make-shift baseball field and food booths beyond. The day couldn’t have been any better for the Saturday baseball game. The sun shone brightly, but a low pressure system that had moved in kept the heat at bay.
With a new day ahead, Devynne couldn’t believe how much relief she felt over the news about Stephan. It was still troublesome that Carcen hadn’t been able to connect the dots between her and Dawson, but she felt sure they’d come with time.
Feeling awkward, on edge, and still a little angry over Carcen’s laissez-faire attitude at her rejection the night before, Devynne sat on the hillside next to Marissa who cheered loudly as Carcen rounded second base, headed for third. She was doing her best to ignore Donny Sanchez, who hadn’t been more than ten paces away all morning. Each time she’d glanced his way, he’d given her a sheepish grin, but folded his arms and held his position. Carcen had apparently assigned him to babysit them despite the news about Stephan.
Thankfully nothing had happened at her place the evening before. And once she’d noticed that Carcen or one of his men were on guard at all times, she’d even been able to sleep a little.
As Carcen dove for third, ending up safe by a fraction of a second, a loud cheer rose up. The annual game, held on this weekend every year, between the police force and the firefighters, had been a long-standing tradition on the island. Admission costs plus the money that came in from the various food stands all went into the pot. Harried wives hustled around manning hot dog, hamburger and pizza stands, not to mention the candy booth, the pie-eating-contest booth, and the dunking booth where beleaguered officers and firefighters could be tortured throughout the day between their turns at bat.
Devynne inhaled the fair-like aroma of cooking food with appreciation and laid a hand over her grumbling stomach. She would get something to eat in a moment, but she wasn’t ready to face all the women yet. In years past, she herself had been one of the harried hustlers, and coming here triggered old memories. Memories that conjured past joy.
Devynne sighed. They were good memories; happy memories. But she couldn’t bring herself to face the sympathetic expressions of the women manning the food booths yet.
She snapped back to attention as the members of the police force team jumped to their feet with a cheer that shook the stands. Carcen stood just past home plate, brushing dust off his pants. He studied the crowd around her before zeroing in on her.
She raised a hand slightly.
“You okay?” he mouthed.
She nodded and rested a hand on Marissa’s head, knowing he meant safety-wise and not condition-of-her-heart-wise. The little tike bounced up and down and shoved a gooey wad of cotton candy into her already blue mouth before she waved a sticky hand and called, “Hi Uncle Cawce! I got cotton candy!”
With a smile of acknowledgment, Carcen waved to her, scanned the crowd once more, and then trotted off to his place in the dugout.
Devynne glanced at her watch. He had just a few more minutes before he had to take his place in the dunking booth. And she had promised Rissa a chance to dunk her beloved uncle.
“‘Rissa, honey, let’s go down and see if we can’t get Uncle Carcen all wet, shall we?”
Maybe she could take some of her heart-condition frustration out on him there. The thought brought a little lightness to her step even as she realized she really wasn’t being fair. She, after all, was the one who’d said she didn’t want to pursue a relationship. She just wished he hadn’t taken it so lightly. Obviously his attraction didn’t run too deep. She sighed. Devynne, just quit thinking about the man!
>
She helped Marissa navigate the make-shift steps as Donny hovered awkwardly a few paces away. His overzealous scanning of the crowd while his hand rested on the butt of his gun had her biting the inside of her lip to keep from bursting out in laughter. Subtle, he was not.
By the time they’d wound their way across the grounds, stopped to greet several families Devynne hadn’t seen for a long time, and paused at the restroom for Marissa to get de-sticky-fied, Carcen already sat on the chair in the booth attempting to convince people it was a terrible idea to dunk him.
Devynne chuckled, knowing he was applying a bit of reverse psychology in an effort to raise more money for the cause.
He’d abandoned the baseball uniform for a pair of Hawaiian print swim-trunks that emphasized his trim waist and muscular calves. A fine smattering of blond curls across the tan of his chest drew her attention. She swallowed. No two ways about it, the man was cut. There were enough curves and shadows between his torso and biceps to keep a woman gawking for hours.
She felt the warmth of his perusal and looked up to find him studying her with decided humor glimmering in his gaze. A dimple etched the stubble of one cheek as his mouth tipped up on one side and he arched a brow.
Of its own volition, her chin rose a notch. “Marissa honey, are you ready to get Uncle Carcen all wet?”
The dimple morphed into a full-out grin.
Beside her Marissa jumped up and down. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Devynne was about to pay for three balls when Randy Wiseman stepped forward and plunked the money into the attendant’s hands. He grinned at her with a wink. “Money well spent to see my good friend Carcen sinking to the bottom of that pool.”
“Well, thank you. But I’m not sure how close of a friend he’ll be after seeing you do that.”
As if to prove her point Carcen called, “Hey Randy, what are you doing over there, you traitor!”
Randy only stepped forward and gave Carcen a waist deep bow, much to the amusement of the gathering crowd.
Devynne offered Randy a smile and handed one of the balls to Marissa.
Donny Sanchez squatted behind Marissa and reached over her shoulder to point. “See the red dot in the middle of the paddle? You look right at that when you throw the ball and your ol’ uncle will be swimming in no time!”
“Officer Sanchez, I’d watch it if I were you! Last I checked your name was on the list right after mine!” Carcen pretended to look perturbed.
Donny chuckled, but merely patted Marissa on the top of her head. “The red dot.”
“Marissa!” Carcen protested. “You wouldn’t dunk your ol’ Uncle Carcen, would you? I’ll take you for ice cream if you miss!”
People chuckled as Marissa tipped her little head and seemed to contemplate what she should do.
“Marissa?” Devynne shoved her tongue firmly into one cheek, her gaze never wavering from Carcen. “I’ll take you to ice cream if you dunk him!”
The crowd guffawed as Carcen clutched his chest and winced.
Marissa grinned. “Sowwy, Uncle Cawce!” She let the first ball fly. It didn’t get anywhere near the paddle, but sailed dangerously close to Carcen’s head.
“Whoa!” Carcen laughed as he ducked away, nearly losing his balance on the seat. “Watch where you are throwing that thing!” He aimed a pleading look at Devynne. “You can’t let her throw another of those. My life is in danger here!”
Devynne gave Marissa another ball, but did turn her so she faced the paddle straight on and directed her to look at it when she took her next shot. This time the ball actually grazed the top of the lever.
Carcen’s seat bobbled, but didn’t drop out from under him.
Those gathered around groaned in disappointment and Devynne grinned as she suddenly realized how many people had stopped to see if the little tyke could dunk her uncle.
She bent down and looked Marissa in the eye. “Alright, this is the last one. Make it count, okay?”
Marissa grinned, snatched the ball, and chucked it without so much as even attempting to aim.
The ball nailed the paddle square in its center and Carcen plunged into the water sending up a spray that had the crowd scattering with gasps and squawks and cheers.
In one smooth motion, Carcen shot up out of the tank, grabbed the side, and leapt out to land with the grace of a cat right in front of them. Before Devynne even knew what was happening Carcen had Marissa wrapped in a soggy bear hug and was rubbing his wet, chlorine-scented head all over her face.
“Uncle Cawce!” Marissa protested, giggling and squirming in an attempt to get away.
“You dunked me, young lady! You didn’t think you could do that without a little retaliation, did you?!” He shook his head like a wet dog eliciting more squeals of protest from Marissa.
Devynne chuckled and stepped back several paces.
And then Carcen turned the full force of his electric-blue gaze on her.
Her heart stuttered.
“But it was your mother that made you do it, wasn’t it, ‘Rissa?”
Marissa giggled apparently seeing her way out. “Yep! She pwomised me ice cweam!”
“That she did.” Carcen gently set Marissa aside and took a step toward Devynne.
“Now, just a minute!” Devynne held out one hand to stop his approach, but he only tilted his head with a grin and took another step her way.
The crowd guffawed in appreciation.
“Carcen!” Devynne attempted her sternest tone of voice. “Stop right there.” She backed away another step but the circle of onlookers was now just behind her, hemming her in and preventing further retreat.
Carcen ignored her threat and took another stride. His twinkling gaze never left hers as he addressed the crowd. “The least she could do is take me with them to A Scoop in Time, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely!” someone agreed with him.
“Fine! You can come! But first, you still have 15 minutes left to fill at the booth and…” with great fanfare she pulled some bills from her pocket and held them up for all to see, “I haven’t had my turn yet!”
The crowd roared their appreciation and Carcen chuckled, tucking his lower lip between his teeth. He leaned forward and whispered for her ears alone, “Retaliation is going to be sweet.” He dipped his chin, raised his brows, and gave her a meaningful look full of promise before he turned and jogged over to resume his seat.
Beside her, Randy’s feet shuffled, crunching gravel underfoot. But, flustered from the tummy-curling warmth of Carcen’s parting shot, Devynne barely had the presence of mind to notice his discomfiture. They’d only had one date, after all. She didn’t owe the man too much fidelity.
Chapter 16
Carcen tapped one hand against the steering wheel keeping time to the music. The car ride from the fund-raiser to Randy’s apartment had been short, but quiet. Randy had sullenly said he could just catch a ride with someone else, but he had all his catcher’s equipment plus his bag of bats, so Carcen had insisted on driving him home in his truck. He’d just dropped Devynne and Marissa off at A Scoop in Time and would meet them back there as soon as he got Randy to his apartment.
He grinned at the memory of Devynne’s unfailingly perfect aim. Good thing he’d been sitting in that contraption for a good cause.
Randy lobbed him a glare and shifted uneasily in his seat.
Carcen had a prick of conscience for his friend’s obvious pique. “You really like her don’t you? Listen, I’m sorry if—”
“I’ll be fine, man.” Randy sighed, rubbed his jaw, and studied the scenery out his window as the truck swung a right onto Carter Avenue. “Should you have left her there alone, though? After what you told me the other night?”
“I’ve got Niemeyer watching them till I can get back there.”
Randy smirked. “Devynne will be real happy about that.”
“She’ll be alright. She didn’t have too much trouble with me putting Sanchez on her at the game.”
“W
ell, I wish you the best. I really do. It’s obvious she doesn’t return my feelings. She barely said a word to me all morning.”
What did a guy say to something like that? Especially when he hoped the woman of the conversation was interested in him and not his friend? Nothing came to mind, except…. “You know the officer who was walking Dawson back to his cell when you came in this morning? She’s single. I could introduce you.”
Randy chuckled. “I don’t know, man. This dating thing… I was supposed to do this once and that was it, you know? Most of the time I feel like I’m too old to try this again. With Devynne, I thought it might work out because we both, you know… lost someone.”
“Well, I’m sorry to be the one muddling that up for you.”
Randy waved away his concern. “If it was meant to be, it would have worked out. I have a feeling she’s been half in love with you for some time.”
Carcen huffed a nervous laugh. “I don’t know about that, but I’m hoping we can get there.”
“Well,” Randy glanced over at him. “Sorry to be such a grouch. And no hard feelings, really. I mean it. I’m just… feeling sorry for myself, I guess.”
“Everything’s chill, brah.” He gave the phrase his best Hawaiian accent.
Randy chuckled.
Carcen turned left into the apartment parking lot and pulled to a stop in front of Randy’s unit, killing the engine. He climbed out and met Randy at the tailgate. “Here, I’ll get that.” He grabbed up the bag full of bats as Randy gathered his catching gear.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it.” Randy thrust one hand out from under the mound of gear.
Carcen pushed the tailgate shut and held the bag out of his friend’s reach, gesturing that Randy should precede him. “It’ll only take me a minute to help you out a little.”
The Unrelenting Tide (Islands of Intrigue: San Juans - Christian Romantic Suspense) Page 13
