by Gerri Hill
"Good thing they didn't meet at the dry cleaners," she quipped.
He laughed and moved closer. The look in his eyes was one she'd seen many times before. And mostly at bars.
"So? You here alone?" he asked.
She picked up her drink again, staring at him. "No." She took a sip. "Because if I was alone, I wouldn't be here."
"Weddings aren't your thing, huh?"
"Leslie, there you are. I've been looking for you."
She met Paul's eyes. "That would be Michael. My fiance," she added.
"You don't look like you go together," he whispered.
"I'm beginning to see that." She turned as Michael grasped her shoulder.
"What are you doing in here?"
"I got tired of wine," she said as she held up her glass. "Paul is just the best bartender."
"I'll take your word for it. But they're ready for dinner."
"We're having dinner here, right?"
"In a private room, yes. I'm sure Paul won't mind if you bring your drink."
"Do you mind, Paul?" she asked as she fished out some money from her purse and laid it on the bar.
"Not at all. I hope you'll come back later."
"Absolutely," she said as Michael led her away.
"What's wrong?" he whispered.
"Nothing. Well, other than I'm trying to get drunk. Why?"
He pulled her up close. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
"For God's sake! I've been stuck in a group discussing weddings and honeymoons for hours. It would drive the freakin' Pope to drink. If I'd had my weapon with me, I may have shot someone."
He laughed. "Aren't you exaggerating just a bit? Besides, I thought the wedding was perfect. I hope ours goes as smoothly." He led her by the arm back to the wedding party. "I think it was a great idea to have it at the hotel. Everything's right here. Your guests just grab an elevator to their room. You don't have to worry about partying too much and then driving." He looked at her. "I like it."
She stared at him. "You're not serious?"
"Why not?"
"Well, for one, your mother will kill you."
"It's our wedding, not hers."
"Since when?" She finished the last of her drink, feeling a slight buzz from the double shot. Paul was a good man. She just might be able to make it through the night.
He pulled her close again. "Please don't embarrass me."
"You mean tonight? Or at our wedding?"
He smiled. "Both."
She took a deep breath. "I'm not drunk, Michael. This is my first drink. I was just escaping...all this," she said, waving her hands at his friends.
"They're really fun people, Leslie. Give them a chance. I think you'll like them."
She took a deep breath. "Sure, Michael. I'm sorry. I'll try."
But as she pushed the food around on her plate, she was convinced she would never be friends with these people. Not that they didn't try. It was her. She simply wasn't interested. And after another hour of trying to fake conversations with strangers, she escaped again. But not to the hotel bar this time.
She found herself on the third floor where the outdoor patio bar overlooked the pool. It was still crowded on this Saturday night, despite the late hour. She walked to the edge, leaning over the railing, looking down at the pool then up into the night sky, blocking out the chatter around her. She closed her eyes for a moment, finally letting in thoughts of the one person she'd been trying to keep at bay all weekend.
Casey.
Trying to keep her away, yes, but she'd been there all along. She pulled out her cell, looking at the time. After eleven. Was she still awake? She was out with Tori and Sam, out on their boat. Could she dare call? If they were all three awake, how would she ever explain it?
She closed her phone. Don't do anything stupid.
But as she stared overhead, seeing the faint twinkling of stars above the city, she opened her phone again, her thumb punching through the numbers, stopping when Casey's number came up.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then pushed the call button. She only wanted to hear her voice.
The air, while warm, still had a freshness about it. Maybe it was simply being on the water, but it lacked the stifling effect it had in the city.
Casey tilted her head up, watching the stars. She loved it out here. The gentle rocking of the boat, the light breeze over the water, the sounds of the frogs and insects, the sounds of night.
It had become a ritual. Ever since she'd been joining Tori and Sam, she'd made it a point to stay up on deck after they went to bed. Privacy. She didn't want to get into theirs. So, as was her habit, after they went to bed, she pulled out the wine and brought it on deck with her. Some nights, she'd sit only for an hour. Other times, she'd still be out in the early morning light. Just sitting. Thinking.
Like now. Thinking.
She smiled. Or trying not to think.
But her heart skipped a beat when her cell phone vibrated against her leg. She pulled it out of her pocket, squinting in the moonlight to read the name.
Leslie. Damn.
"Casey," she answered quietly.
"It's me."
Casey held the phone tightly. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah." A pause. "Are you alone?"
"Uh-huh. Are you?"
"If I don't count the thirty or so people on the patio, yeah."
Casey grinned, looking out over the water. "Okay, so let's don't count them."
There was only a beat of silence, then she heard the quiet sigh. "I miss you."
She gripped the phone tighter. "I...I miss you too."
Again, a sigh. "I shouldn't have called. I just needed to hear your voice."
"It's okay," Casey whispered. Christ, she didn't know if it was okay or not. She didn't know anything anymore.
"Is it, Casey? Is it okay really?"
"I don't know," she admitted. She heard a quiet laugh.
"Yeah, I was afraid that would be your answer." She cleared her throat. "I should go."
Casey stared up at the stars again. Yes, go. Back to Michael. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend," she managed.
"See you Monday."
And so she sat, phone still held lightly in her hand, listening as the sounds of the night faded away and all she heard was the steady beating of her heart. And the quiet words that echoed in her brain. I miss you.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When Casey walked into the squad room, she was determined to make everything as normal as possible. She would forget the phone call Saturday night. She would forget the conversation she'd had with Sam. And she would forget how her heart skipped a beat at just the sight of Leslie Tucker. Because--as she'd finally convinced herself last night--Leslie was off limits. An engagement ring tended to do that. So she forced a smile to her face as she walked in, holding up the two bags in her hands. One with coffee, one with pastries.
"Thanks, O'Connor. I was hoping you'd bring coffee," John said, flashing her a smile. "You're the best."
"Uh-huh." She put the cappuccino on Tori's desk, noting the empty chair. "Where's Hunter?"
"She's not in yet," Leslie said, reaching for the cup Casey handed her. "Thanks. I needed this."
And just like that, just one glance, and her resolve crumbled. Because the look in Leslie's eyes was haunted, as haunted as her own had been that morning. She took the lid off her coffee, sipping it, trying to convince herself that Leslie Tucker was her partner, nothing more, nothing less. A late night phone call during a weak moment meant nothing. At least, that's what she told herself. But when Leslie turned those soft brown eyes on her, she was no longer sure.
I miss you.
Christ! She put her coffee cup down and leaned closer. "What's wrong, Les?" she asked quietly, unable to stop herself. She saw Leslie glance at John, then back at her.
"Nothing, O'Connor. Everything is fine."
"Okay." The fake smile Leslie gave her failed to convince her, but obviously Leslie didn't w
ant to talk. Fine. It was probably safer that way anyway.
She'd just taken a bite from her pastry when her phone rang. "O'Connor," she said with a mouth full.
"It's me. Grab the team. We've got a homicide. I don't know if she's ours or not."
Casey stood, snapping her fingers at Sikes and Tucker. "Where?"
"Cascades."
"Cascades? That's where we picked up John."
"I know. I'll meet you there. And, O'Connor, bring my cappuccino." She slipped her phone back into the clip on her belt and grabbed her coffee. "Another woman. Cascades." She pointed at Tori's coffee. "Sikes, bring that for her, will you?" She looked around. "Where the hell's Malone?"
"He's out this morning. Doctor," Sikes reminded her.
"Which is why Tori got the call," she murmured, hurrying out the door with the others.
She and Leslie automatically went to her truck, then stopped, looking at John. While it was a large truck with extra cab space behind the seats, no way he could fit back there. They all looked at each other, waiting.
"Look. I'll take my own. It'll just be easier," he said. "Meet you there."
As she got inside, she wondered why they just didn't all ride in John's car, but he was already pulling away. Fine. They could do this. They were adults.
"I'm sorry," Leslie said unexpectedly.
Casey started the truck and backed out. "For what?"
"For earlier. For calling you the other night. For--"
"You don't have to apologize. Forget it."
"Forget it? Forget what, Casey? What should I forget?"
Casey turned, meeting her eyes. "Everything. Let's just forget everything."
She heard rather than saw the smile. A smile, but a sad smile. "How is it we manage to talk about it without really talking about it, Casey?"
"Because it is very scary, that's why."
"Are we afraid to say it out loud?"
"Apparently." She sped up, just missing the light on Gaston. She took a deep breath. "So, how was your weekend?"
"Is that your not so subtle way of changing the subject?"
"Yes." She felt Leslie turn away from her and she wanted to apologize for being so abrupt. But she didn't.
"Okay. We won't say it out loud then. We'll change the subject, O'Connor." She shrugged. "Wonderful weekend."
"Good."
"Yeah. Good."
Casey turned sharply, practically tossing Leslie against the door as she pulled into the Cascades parking lot. Three units, a fire truck, an ambulance and the ME's van. Plenty to attract the attention of the neighbors. She got out without waiting for Leslie, needing to escape her presence, if only for a few moments.
But it was short-lived. As they rounded the corner, she felt Leslie's hand on her arm, stopping her.
"Look. It's the same apartment."
Casey stopped. "You're right. Goddamn," she whispered.
"Hey, guys, over here," Tori called. "Apartment one thirty-four. First floor, just like the others."
"What was her name?" Leslie asked.
"Rhonda Lampton," she said.
"Hampton," Sikes corrected her.
"Right. Hampton. Rhonda Hampton. Age twenty-four."
"We were here," Casey said.
"What? When?"
"The other night. We were here." She turned, pointing to the shrubs lining the small patio. "This is where we found John."
"The same goddamn apartment?" Tori stared at them. "What the fuck?"
"What the fuck what?" Casey said loudly. "He was jacking off, staring in this apartment. Are we supposed to know his brother is going to hit the same goddamn apartment?"
"Hey, guys. Calm down," Sikes said, grabbing Tori by the arm and pulling her away.
"I'm sorry, O'Connor. It's just--"
Casey plunged her hands into her hair. "I know. Hell, I know."
Leslie stepped forward. "If we can discuss this rationally," she said, looking at both Tori and Casey, "perhaps we can figure out how Patrick knew this was the apartment. Does John do recon for him? Does John brag about him being able to watch women without getting caught? Is this how Patrick might know who lives alone and who doesn't?"
"Without having him evaluated, we don't really know whether John is slow or not, or is just faking," Tori said. "Because this," she said, pointing at the apartment, "is just too goddamn much."
"He's not faking it," Leslie said.
"You can't be sure. He could be playing you."
"No. I don't think so. He never changed his demeanor, his speech. It all came too naturally for him."
Tori glared at them. "Find him. Bring him in."
"On what charges?"
"Make something up. I don't care," she said as she stormed away. "Just find him."
"Why the hell is she pissed at us?" Leslie asked.
Casey smiled. "That's just Hunter. That's just what she does."
"She's scary."
"Yeah, she is. But I love her anyway." She looked quickly at Leslie. "Come on."
Leslie drove down Elm for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She felt like she was as familiar with the surrounding streets now as she was the back of her hand. They'd been at it all day. And they'd not seen even a trace of John Doe. They'd taken a break at five, meeting back up at seven. Leslie knew Casey was tired from driving all day, so she volunteered her car for the night shift.
And the night was proving to be as quiet as the day. Quiet as in Casey wasn't saying much. Quiet as in she was about to snap.
"Are you asleep?" she finally asked. It had been at least a half hour since they'd spoken and Casey was in the same position, staring out the side window.
"No. Not asleep." Casey flexed her shoulders and shifted in the seat. "Just watching, that's all."
Leslie endured another long silence, long enough to travel down Elm twice more and make a circle over to Gaston. And she'd had enough.
"Casey, I want to talk about it," she blurted out. "I can't stand this."
"There's nothing to talk about. You're engaged to be married." She turned to look at her for the first time in hours. "So there's nothing to really talk about."
Leslie stared at the road, not knowing where to start. "Speaking of engaged, they want a December wedding."
Casey's head jerked up. "December? This December?"
"Yes. Three months." She could feel Casey withdraw from her even more, could feel the tension in the car. But she didn't care. She wanted to talk about it.
"Wow. Three months," Casey said quietly. "I guess you'll be busy between now and then."
Leslie pounded her hand on the steering wheel. "Goddammit, Casey! This is ridiculous. You know as well as I do that I'm not getting married in December."
"Look--"
"No, you look. I'm tired of ignoring this." She snatched up her phone, scrolling until she found Tori. It rang only twice. "Hunter? It's Tucker. Listen, we haven't had any luck. We're going to call it a night." She nodded. "Good. See you tomorrow." She glanced at Casey. "They're done too."
"What are you doing?"
"I'm taking you to get your truck, then I'm going to follow you home. We're going to talk."
"Les, please. There's nothing to say. This is what it is. End of story."
"Why do I feel like we're talking in code? Why do we talk around it?" She looked at Casey, then back to the road. "I'm attracted to you. There. I've said it out loud."
"Leslie, please...don't."
"Don't what? Don't be attracted to you?" She turned into their parking lot, stopping beside Casey's truck. She turned in her seat, facing her. "But I am attracted to you. And you know I'm attracted to you." She reached over and took Casey's hand, holding it tight when she tried to pull away. "And I know the feeling is mutual," she whispered. "I'm tired of pretending this isn't happening." She felt Casey stiffen, but she refused to release her hand.
"Okay. So we've said it out loud. And yes, the feeling is mutual. But we've got two problems here. One, we're partners. And that c
an't happen. And two, you're engaged, for Christ's sake."
She finally released Casey's hand and pushed the button to unlock the doors. "Please, Casey. Let's don't have this discussion in my car. Can we go to your place and talk? Please."
She could see the indecision cross Casey's face, could feel her hesitation. Finally, she nodded.
"You're right." Their eyes met. "We should talk."
"Thank you."
Chapter Twenty-Six
"Here," Casey said, handing Leslie a glass of wine. She was pleased that her hand didn't shake. She turned her back to her, leaning on the railing instead, looking out over the water. She liked it better when they were ignoring it. At least that way she didn't feel quite so school girlish.
She heard Leslie get out of the chair, felt her move up beside her. She mimicked her pose, resting her arms on the railing, staring out into the darkness.
"What's wrong? Are you nervous? Or embarrassed?" Leslie guessed.
Casey smiled. "Both, I guess. I've just committed the cardinal sin for lesbians."
"What's that?"
"Not only are you straight, you're also engaged. Double whammy."
Leslie tilted her head slightly as she watched her. "Oh, I get it. You assume you're the first woman I've been attracted to and I'm going through some freakish curiosity phase before I get married. Is that it?"
"Is that not it?"
"Don't you think I'm a bit old for a game like that?"
Casey turned to face her. "Are we going to talk in circles again? Or are we going to just talk?"
Leslie smiled. "Oh, now she's brave."
Casey nodded. "Let me start by telling you a story."
"How much wine do you have? Because I have a story too."
"You want to stay out here or go inside?"
"No, it's nice out. Tell me your story."
"Well, it's about the cardinal sin," she said. "I met this woman when I was in the Academy. We hit it off right away. Turns out she'd just broken up with her boyfriend. I should have run right then." Casey sipped from her wine, surprised that the memory of that time still smarted. She'd been so naive. She glanced at Leslie, still feeling very naive at thirty-three. "But I didn't run. I was infatuated with her. And she with me. And our affair lasted nearly a month. Until she went back with her boyfriend. She said her curiosity about having sex with a woman had been satisfied. And the fact was, her sleeping with another woman really turned her boyfriend on."
