Her face became like stone, her eyes sneered as she said, “My father pissed me off, so I changed my major at the last minute.”
“Seriously?”
She laughed roguishly, shaking her head. “No, not seriously. My dad wanted me to go into the family business, and I do help out when I can. But I studied economics as a way to be a normal kid for a few years.”
“I don’t understand. You were living every kid’s dream.”
“Exactly. I was an only child with only my mother as a friend. Don’t get me wrong, my mom is my best friend, but I wanted to experience the college life, so I moved into the dorm. Best four years of my life.”
I sliced into the tender meat and stole a glimpse of her lips as I did.
“Okay, enough about me,” she stated. “Tell me one secret about you that no one knows.”
“Oh, I have many secrets. I don’t know if I can narrow it down to one,” I replied coyly.
She laughed and picked up her wine glass. “I have faith that you can.”
“Okay. Well. Have you heard of Chef Antoine?”
“The guy with the cooking show?” she asked.
“That’s the one, and I’m enamored with him. Nobody knows this, not even Dorey, but I’m a closet chef. I’ve made every dish he’s prepared on his show, and they turn out pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“You like to cook? That is too perfect.”
“Oh, yes. It’s just a hobby, of course, but now you know why I’m a tad overweight.” Chef Antoine had kept me company many a lonely evening with his exquisite recipes.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, but first, Michele, you should know, I don’t see that you’re overweight. I see a ravishing young woman with a very sexy smile.”
“Wow. Thank you,” I said, blushing yet again. To distract myself, I asked, “And your surprise?”
“Would you like to meet him? Chef Antoine? He’s standing right over there. This is his restaurant.”
I almost wet my pants. “What? Where?” Damn. Can this date get any better? He was a national celebrity, and I couldn’t believe this was his restaurant. I knew that he had restaurants all over the country, and even a culinary school in New York, where he films his show, but I had no idea he had one right here in Boulder.
“Oh, and he’s also my father,” she said, her eyes twinkling with pride as she waved toward Chef Antoine.
I craned my neck and watched as a rotund man around my age walked toward us. He was wearing a white double-breasted jacket, black pants and a toque blanche, although his hat wasn’t as tall in the restaurant as it appeared on television.
He bent over and kissed Lula on the forehead, then he looked at me.
“Papa, I’d like to introduce you to your biggest fan, Michele Michaels. Michele, this is my father, Antoine Azéma.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I never miss your show,” I gushed like a groupie as I held my hand out to shake his.
He bowed, took my hand in his and kissed it. “Un plaisir de vous rencontrer, ma chère.”
I smiled, not understanding a word he said.
“He said it was a pleasure to meet you,” Lula translated.
“Excusez-moi… excuse me. Whenever I see a beautiful woman such as yourself, I forget my English.”
Blushing, I chirped, “Oh, I don’t mind at all.”
“Was your meal to your satisfaction, Michele?” he asked, looking at my empty plate.
“Oh, yes,” I replied. I would have licked the plate if I thought I wouldn’t get caught. “Even better now that I know you created it. I do hope you’ll prepare the lamb on your show one day. I would love to try and recreate it.”
“Are you a chef, Michele?” he asked politely.
“Oh, God, no. I just love to cook.”
“Ah, but amour is the key ingredient, isn’t it?”
He was completely right. Cooking was something I love to do, so why do I hide it? “You are so right, Chef. Thank you.”
“Lula, you must bring her to New York when we film the show,” he said.
I looked at Lula like a child seeing all the presents under the tree on Christmas morning.
Lula smiled. “I just might,” she teased. “If she’d like to go?”
“Are you kidding? A famous French chef who owns an Italian restaurant and cooks like a Greek god? Just try and keep me away.”
Their laughter was contagious and I joined in. The chef bowed to me and then moved on to the next table. All the excitement was too much for my bladder, and I excused myself and went to the restroom, which in itself, was just as opulent with a marble countertop, personalized hand towels, sweet-smelling soap, and that was just the foyer. The toilet stalls were large and spacious, and the toilet flushed for you when you were done. Would love one of those at home.
When I came back out, I noticed that Lula’s father was talking to Lula again, and Lula’s face was an angry red. As I got closer, I could hear them talking in French and though I didn’t understand what they were saying, my heart fell into the pit of my stomach. They’re talking about me. About how I’m too old for her. I looked around for the escape route so Lula wouldn’t see me, but then changed my mind. My feisty girl spirit riled up inside me and I walked back to my table. The chef glanced at me, smiled meekly, and then walked away.
“Would you like to leave?” I asked as I sat down.
She looked shocked. “Why? Aren’t you having a good time?”
“Oh, yes. A very good time. I just thought maybe the date was over.” I looked at Chef Antoine across the way. He was talking to a couple at a table.
Lula followed my eyes and then looked back at me. “You saw my father and I arguing, didn’t you?” I nodded and she smiled.
“I’m too old for you, right? He saw the gray hairs and wrinkled face and forbid you to see me again. I can’t really blame him.”
“Stop,” she demanded. “We weren’t arguing about you or your age. We French prefer to date older women and my father was very pleased to meet you.”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, I asked, “Then what was it?”
“He saw on TV about the murder at the hospital and he wants me to quit my job and work for him full time. I told him no. That I was making a difference there.”
“You made a huge difference for me. I wanted to ask, why did you jump in front of me when Byron got upset?”
“The truth?”
I nodded. “Always.”
“I thought you were the only one in the room who couldn’t protect herself.”
“You were right. I don’t do well with confrontation, especially violent ones like that. I was afraid to move and yet wanted to run away.” I shook the vision from my mind. “Again, thank you for coming to my rescue.”
She grinned and ran her fingers across an imaginary brim of a hat. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
The dessert cart rolled up to our table, and she made a few suggestions. I picked the Tiramisu with ladyfingers, custard, and cocoa powder. The waitress placed the plate in front of me and then dripped warm chocolate across it. Better than sex! Lula chose the Zuccotto, an Italian Ice Cream dessert cake.
All too soon, the magical evening was over, and she was walking me to my door. She took the key from my hand and unlocked my apartment door, and then stepped back.
“Would you like to come in for a nightcap?” I asked, knowing that I didn’t have anything but cola and two-percent milk to offer her.
She answered my question with a kiss. I melted under the touch of her lips on mine, the taste of her tongue as it probed the edges, tantalizing my senses. I parted my lips, inviting her in, and she pressed closer to me, provocatively feathering her tongue as she explored my mouth. From somewhere deep down in my depths, I groaned with pleasure. My mind swirled as my heart beat faster and my thighs began to tingle. She pulled away and I stood there, my eyes still closed, my heart still pounding.
“Oh, now you have to come in and finish what you started,” I said brea
thlessly, finally opening my eyes again.
“I’d love to, but I can’t tonight,” she said.
Oh, God. She’s not interested in me. That pissed me off. “Oh, okay. Well… um… I’ll see you at work then, I guess. I had a wonderful evening. Good night.” I stepped through the door.
“Wait. You don’t understand,” she said.
“Oh, I think I understand perfectly. Good night,” I said, shutting the door in her face.
Chapter Eighteen
Casey Dennis
As day two of my new job came to a close, and the last reports were read, I leaned back in my chair and thought about what a whirlwind those two days had been. I’d barely been able to do any work on the department modifications because of the investigation. I was beginning to question why I left the force if I was going to continue being a detective. I also questioned why I was going to such lengths for Scottie. Was it for her, or to buy forgiveness for the boy who died in my arms? The guilt in my heart said it was for the boy.
“You’re working late, Chief,” Lula said as she walked through the door. She was in uniform. Is it time for the nightshift already?
“Either that or you’re here early,” I replied, noticing that she was wearing a Halloween cat pin. I guess she got the message. “Cute pin.”
“Thanks, I thought the kids might get a kick out of it,” she replied, pulling on the tail and making it dance.
“Oh, yeah. The kids will love that.” My desk phone rang, and I picked it up. Lula gave a small wave and left the room. “Chief Dennis.”
“Chief Dennis. This is the front desk. There’s a lady here looking for you. Her name is Sarah Douglas.”
“Thanks, I’ll be right up.” I hung up the phone and yelled for Lula.
“Yes, Chief?”
“I need you to escort a visitor to the pediatric ICU for me.”
“Roger that. Where is the visitor now?”
“Follow me,” I said, walking out the door. We made our way to the front lobby and up to the front desk. There was a woman sitting in the waiting area, a suitcase sitting beside her on the floor.
“Ms. Douglas?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, standing up.
“I’m Casey Dennis. Did you have a good trip?”
She didn’t answer. She walked up to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “Thank you, Ms. Dennis.”
I patted her back and then pulled away. “No, thank you, Mrs. Douglas, for trusting me. And please, call me Casey.”
“Well, I have to confess that I didn’t trust you at first, Casey,” she said, taking a step back. “My husband is a reporter for the newspaper, and he looked you up. It seems you were quite the hero in Houston and that’s what convinced me to trust you.”
“What did you do, Chief?” Lula asked.
“Nothing that I care to talk about right now,” I said impassively. “It’s more important to get Mrs. Douglas up to see her grandchild.” I turned back to Sarah. “This is Ms. Ferguson, and she will escort you to the ICU.”
“Thank you,” she said, reaching for her suitcase.
Lula picked it up instead. “Let me carry that for you.”
“That’s very kind, but not necessary,” Sarah replied.
“No problem at all, ma’am,” Lula said.
I put my hand on Sarah’s elbow and led her a few steps away for some privacy. “Remember your promise?”
“Yes, but I don’t see why—”
“Because the focus needs to be on your daughter-in-law and your grandson. Adding me into the mix only complicates and confuses things.”
She looked at me for a quiet moment and then smiled. “I wonder if you’re talking about Scottie or yourself, Casey.” Before I could protest she put her hand to my cheek and whispered, “Your secret is safe with me.”
I watched as Lula escorted Ms. Douglas out of the lobby and down the hall. I really wanted to be there to see the surprised look on Scottie’s face, but instead, I went back to my office and got my jacket and keys and headed out to my RV. Before I could leave, Josh came in, followed by Noel Collins.
“Mr. Collins, can I see you a moment?” I said, waving him into my office. I had been meaning to speak with him sooner, but hadn’t had the chance.
“Yeah, Chief,” he said, pulling off his jacket as he walked into my office. It rattled, like he had a pocket full of marbles inside. Sitting down, he asked, “What’s up?”
“The temp agency faxed over a copy of your resume and I noticed that you’ve worked a lot of security jobs over the years. Have you ever worked security in a hospital before?”
“No, mostly grocery stores, department stores, that kind of thing.”
“Do you have any kids, Mr. Collins?”
He shook his head. “Nah, never wanted kids to be honest with you.” He tilted his head and looked at me oddly. “That doesn’t mean I can’t protect the children in this hospital.”
“Of course it doesn’t. I think you’re very capable of doing your job, Mr. Collins.”
“Then why did the girl get hired and I didn’t?” he asked sharply.
There it was, the reason for me asking him in here. I was impressed that he had the guts to come right out and ask the question, considering how passive he appeared to be.
“She was in the right place at the right time and showed me what she was made of during the confrontation with Byron this morning. I had an opening that needed filled immediately and she filled it.”
“Well, to be honest with you, I like working for the temp agency anyway, and going place to place. Keeps me from getting bored.”
I looked at him curiously, wondering why he was upset at not being hired if he didn’t want the job. “So, you’re saying that you don’t want to be considered for full time here at the hospital?”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t take the job if you offered it. I just don’t think that you will offer it now.”
“Why is that, Mr. Collins?”
He chuckled and leaned back. “Because, I’m never in the right place at the right time.”
Is he mocking me? It felt like he was. Like there was some underlying meaning to his statement. I needed to turn off the detective side of me that always looks for the hidden meaning in everything, but so far, I hadn’t been able to. “Well, you never know what’s going to happen around here,” I bit out, keeping my anger in check.
“Yeah, seems to be a lot of action at this hospital. A girl found dead in the parking lot, a crazy guard with a Taser. Can’t wait to hear what’s next.”
“Unique circumstances in both cases, Mr. Collins.” Lula walked in the main office door. She nodded at me and walked into the break room. “Thank you for coming in. Let me know if you have any other questions,” I said, ready to end the conversation.
He didn’t move. “I do have another question.”
“Go ahead,” I said distractedly.
“I was wondering when I would get my own set of a keys or entry codes to the units?”
“Temporary security guards aren’t issued keys. If you’re hired on as full time, then you’ll be given a set of keys”
“Oh, okay. That makes sense, thanks.”
I stood up and held out my hand. “Thank you for being here, Mr. Collins.”
He looked at my hand for a second and then shook it. His hand was soft and small and actually limp. I was careful not to grip it too hard. As he walked out, I quickly went to the breakroom to find Lula. She was alone, sitting at the table with a soda can sitting in front of her. She looked perplexed about something, and I immediately feared that the reunion with Scottie’s mother-in-law hadn’t gone well.
“Everything go all right, Ms. Ferguson?”
“Oh, hey, Chief,” she said as if noticing me for the first time.
“Did everything go all right?” I repeated impatiently.
“Yes, it was quite heartwarming, actually. I escorted Ms. Douglas into the ICU and she asked the nurse for… I guess her daughter’s room—�
�
“It was her daughter-in-law’s son’s room.”
“That poor little boy.”
I waited, growing impatient because I had to know if I was right to send for Sarah.
“Anyway,” Lula finally continued. “The mother had her head resting on the bed when Ms. Douglas walked in. I watched as she put her hand on the lady’s shoulder. The lady gave a start but then jumped into Ms. Douglas’s arms. I take it they hadn’t seen each other in a while?”
“It’s not my story to tell. I’m just glad they had a happy reunion.” Relieved, reassured, placated.
“Chief, what is this woman to you? Is she family or a lover or something?”
“None of the above. I just met her yesterday,” I replied.
“But you went to such lengths to bring them together and obviously, the mother of that boy needed her because when I left, they were sitting on that little couch, and she had her head tucked under Ms. Douglas’s chin and the older woman was holding her.”
Wonderful! Exactly what Scottie needed. “Let’s just say that I was paying it forward by helping God answer a prayer and leave it at that, okay?”
She sloped her head and raised an eyebrow. “Paying it forward is nothing to be ashamed of, you know?”
“It depends on the reason you’re paying it forward,” I replied cryptically. Before she could say more, I added, “I’m leaving the campus for the night, so call if you need anything.”
A moment passed and then she said, “Yes, Chief. Have a good night.”
***
An hour later, wearing my favorite black leather vest, black jeans, blue linen shirt, and motorcycle Harness boots, I walked into the Boulder Mental Wellness Center. Celine’s clinic. I didn’t dress that way to blend in or anything, it was just how I preferred to dress when I rode my bike.
The clinic was located on the second floor of a medical complex, taking up the entire floor. It was a little past seven when I walked in and the first thing I noticed was that the waiting room was full. The second thing I noticed was that there was only one door access to the back side of the clinic, which is pretty standard in most medical offices. I took a seat in the furthest corner from the door so I could watch people coming and going.
Better the Devil You Don't Know Page 15
