“Thought I left you sleeping on the houseboat.”
“You did. But I’m fast in these.” London gestured to her Adidas running shoes, the same ones Reid had made her change into when they first met. “If you were trying to lose me, you should’ve taken all my shoes and clothes and just left me with the bikini.”
Reid glanced in the side-view mirror. There, parked on the side of the road behind her RV, was the Rolls.
“You brought the Rolls?” she asked in disbelief.
“I brought the Rolls,” London replied with a smirk.
Mug trotted to the front of the RV for his customary greeting, giving London a gentle nudge and several licks for good measure.
“How’d you find me?”
“I called the lieutenant to let him know I was taking a personal day. He mentioned you were leaving town.”
Reid frowned. She hadn’t told Boyle about this trip. “How’d he know I was leaving town?”
“Said you had that look on your face when he saw you this morning.”
“A look? What look?”
“He called it your need to get the hell out of here now face. Said you always hit the road with Mug and head north whenever things get stressful at work.”
Reid shook her head. Working with a bunch of detectives definitely had its downside.
“So I hopped in the Rolls and headed north, figuring I’d catch up with you sooner or later.” London pointed behind them. “V12 twin-turbocharged engine.”
The sun reached through the RV’s side window and grazed London’s hair and cheek, casting her in a heavenly glow. God, was she beautiful. “Are you inviting yourself along on our camping trip?”
“Are you kidding?” London balked. “I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your alone time. I just needed to make sure you were okay.”
But the idea of London joining them for this trip suddenly filled her with profound joy, a joy she realized she’d never known before. And the fact that London had driven all this way just to check in made her feel cared about in a way she’d never experienced. “I’m still kind of in shock over the whole thing. I knew I’d retire eventually. Just didn’t think it would be this soon.”
“Then don’t,” London said, her brown eyes filled with razor-sharp resolve. “Stay on. Face this with me.”
“I can’t,” she said firmly, certain her decision was the right one. “IA would scrutinize every single case I worked from this point forward. No one from the DA’s office would want to touch my cases with a ten-foot pole, no matter how solid and irrefutable the evidence was.” She shrugged. “I’m too much of a liability for the department now. They couldn’t keep me on, even if they wanted to.” After all was said and done, that was the final layer of truth. Like a giant sinkhole in the middle of a busy road, there was no way around it. Her career in law enforcement had come to an end.
Chapter Twenty-eight
“So that’s it, then?” London pressed. “You retire and spend your time…doing what exactly?”
“Maybe working as a PI.” It was an idea Reid had been tossing around for years. “I don’t have all the details hammered out yet. That’s why I came up here. I needed someplace quiet to plan out the next few chapters.”
London gazed out the window and nodded, her sadness palpable. “Makes sense.”
“Would you like to join us?” she asked, hoping to lift London’s spirits.
“For what?”
“For tonight’s black-tie event at the Ritz.” Reid rolled her eyes. “Camping.”
“But you just said you needed quiet to plan your next move.”
“I do.”
“Well, we both know I like to talk. Having me there would be counterproductive.”
“Maybe I could use a sounding board.”
“That’s okay.” London offered her a reassuring smile. “You go do what you need to do. I’ll be there when you get back.” She leaned across the console, kissed Reid gently on the lips, and then opened the passenger’s door. She was halfway out by the time Reid found the courage to speak her mind.
“Other than Mug, I’ve never wanted anyone to come camping with me. The whole point of this trip is getting away from people, both dead and alive.”
“No worries.” London glanced over her shoulder. “I get it—”
“No, you don’t get it. I want you to come with us, not just as a sounding board but as a partner, friend, and lover.” She took a deep breath. “I want you to come as my girlfriend.” There, she’d said it. No matter how London responded, she could take comfort in knowing she’d found the courage to take a risk. “Obviously, that doesn’t mean you have to come. If you can’t or don’t want to, that’s totally fine.” She found herself stumbling over her words in an effort to cushion her fall.
London took pity on her and threw her a rope as she plummeted into an abyss of self-doubt. “I’d love to.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Reid sighed, thankful for this unexpected change of plans. “I realize there’s a twelve-year age difference, but—”
“Eleven years and five months,” London said matter-of-factly.
“You looked up my birthday?”
London nodded. “Before we started working together. I had to know if our signs were compatible.”
London was nothing if not thorough. “You believe in that stuff?”
“Not really.” London shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
“What did it say about us?”
“We’re among the most compatible signs in the zodiac.”
Interesting. Her curiosity was piqued. “What are you?”
“Capricorn. December twenty-second.”
She made a mental note that London’s birthday was coming up next month. “The goat, right?”
London nodded.
“And I’m a Leo.”
London sighed and nodded again. “Fitting.”
“But doesn’t the lion eat the goat?” Reid asked, frowning.
“Not if the goat headbutts the lion when necessary to put her in her place.”
She laughed. That pretty much summed up their entire relationship to date. “The age difference really doesn’t bother you?”
“Not at all.”
“And the fact that I’m no longer a cop?”
“I’m not with you because you’re a cop.” London reached across the console to hold her hand. “I’m with you because you’re you.”
Now that her insecurities were out in the open, she felt both relieved and grateful to London for airing them out. “Service gets spotty just up the road.” She handed London her cell. “You should probably call Boyle before we go any farther.”
“Why?”
“To request time off. I’m sure taking down a dangerous serial killer has earned you some personal time.”
“I already did.”
“Did what?”
“Cleared time off with the lieutenant. He gave me a week.”
“You planned on joining us this whole time?”
“I figured you might want some company.” London shrugged. “But I was fine either way.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that from the get-go?”
“Same reason you didn’t invite me. Because I didn’t want you to feel any pressure.”
Reid laughed. At least they were on the same page and looking out for one another.
* * *
A week later, heading home in the Rolls, London reflected on her mini-vacation with Reid. It had been the best vacation of her life. She’d met her soul mate. There was no doubt in her mind.
They’d left work in the city where it belonged and focused solely on enjoying their time together in the great outdoors. Countless hikes, runs, campfires, stargazing. Reid had even taught her how to skip rocks in the lake, something she’d never taken the time to learn before. And they had made love every night. Each time, she’d swear the sex couldn’t get any better…only to discover it could.
An unspok
en agreement to live in the moment had kept them from discussing Reid’s plans to become a PI. But London’s wheels never stopped turning during their time together. Her mind had a habit of not letting go until it found a workable solution.
Which she had.
Still driving, she glanced down at her cell phone as the service bars reappeared. She wasted no time and dialed the lieutenant’s direct line.
* * *
Reid decided to pack up and head home earlier than planned. London had stayed with her and Mug for a week before heading back to return to work. She and Mug had remained behind, intent on wringing out every drop of playtime and relaxation for another week. But after three days, it ceased to be fun and started to feel lonely. She missed London. Even Mug seemed to have a little less spring in his step.
She, London, and Mug had hiked every day and spent their nights making s’mores and cuddling by the campfire. She had no idea camping could be so much fun with another human being. Instead of growing apart and annoyed with each other after spending so much time together, which had been her fear from the outset, their relationship grew stronger and more intimate. They’d made love every night and fell asleep looking up at the stars. London’s body was now as familiar to her as her own. Reid was even more in love after their time here together. She was confident the feeling was mutual.
She shoveled dirt into the campfire pit, dismantled the canopy, folded the chairs, and packed the last of the supplies in the RV’s exterior storage compartment. She was on the road by seven thirty and decided to call Boyle en route.
He answered on the first ring. “You back?”
“On my way home now. I’m dropping by tonight to clean out my desk.” She’d play it like a true coward and wait until the guys had left for the night. “Just thought you should know.”
“Made it easy for you. Already cleaned it out. Everything’s in a box. All you have to do is swing by and pick it up. What time will you be here?”
“Around eight.”
“Fine. I’ll wait up for you—”
“Don’t. I’d prefer just to get in and out. Make it no big deal.”
“Not for you, Sylver,” Boyle said. “For Mug. This is my weekend with him. Remember?”
She laughed. “It’s only Thursday.”
“Well…can I have him a day early?” Boyle pleaded.
“Yeah. Okay. That’s fine.”
“Great.” He hesitated on the other end. “But you know you can’t just slink away without saying good-bye.”
She saw where Boyle was heading and cut him off at the pass. “No.”
“No what?”
“I do not want a retirement party. And if you plan one for me, I’m taking full custody of Mug.”
“No visitation?”
“Nada.”
He sighed. “At least meet me and the guys for a beer at Foley’s tomorrow after work. Say, around seven?”
Foley’s was their unit’s favorite hangout. Garcia’s nephew had been managing the bar for years. “I’ll be there.”
* * *
London yawned into the phone. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
“No need,” Reid said. “I’ll be quick. Boyle already packed everything.”
“Bet it’ll be kind of sad.”
“A little,” she admitted. “I’ll swing by your place after I’m done.” Talk about presumptuous. She paused, giving herself a mental dope slap. “Or I could just go home,” she offered, suddenly uncertain about how to proceed. Had London yawned as a signal that she was too tired for company tonight? Relationship etiquette was dizzying. “Actually, I haven’t been home much, so I’ll just go there.”
“Then I’ll come to you,” London said without hesitation.
She laughed at herself. “Sorry, this is all new for me. I just assumed we’d spend the night together. Should’ve asked first.”
“I assumed the same,” London admitted. “And you don’t have to ask. You’re always welcome here.”
Reid parked in her usual space as they ended the call. She walked around to the passenger’s side and held the door open for Mug, quickly scanning the lot. Looked like the guys had already left. Only Boyle’s truck remained.
She’d spent the last twenty years of her life working here. In many ways, this building felt more familiar to her than her own house. Hard to believe this part of her life was coming to a close. It was a huge loss that couldn’t—and probably shouldn’t—be glossed over. Like the captain’s death, she knew she’d need time to come to terms with this unwelcome change.
As if reading her thoughts, Cap appeared as she entered the building’s stairwell. Fortunately, no one was around, which was the very reason she’d chosen the stairwell instead of the elevator. She had a feeling he’d show up here tonight. “Hey, Cap.”
Good work getting a killer off the streets. Even in death, he was a solid leader.
She leaned against the wall and smiled. “Thanks. It was a team effort.”
I know you don’t like surprises—
“I hate surprises.” She glanced up the stairs, instantly pissed off at Boyle for betraying her. “He promised.”
He promised not to throw you a retirement party. Cap slid his hands in his pockets, just like he used to do when he was trying to reason with her. Not to worry. He kept his word on that.
“Then what are you saying?”
Wanted to give you a heads-up. There’s a gift waiting for you upstairs.
She eyed him with sudden suspicion. “What kind of gift?”
That’s not for me to disclose. But it’s precious. And a lot of people helped to make it happen. He stepped closer. Your people and mine.
Instinct told her, whatever the gift was, it wasn’t to be taken for granted.
You can still do a lot of good work here, he said.
“Are you telling me I should stay?”
He glanced over his shoulder at something—or someone—behind him. Nodding, he turned back to her. I can’t advise you either way.
“Right,” she said, catching his drift. “Free will.” She started up the stairs.
Sylver, one more thing.
She turned to face him.
My wife’s in a tizzy. Water heater broke and flooded the basement. She thinks our wedding album was down there and got ruined. But she doesn’t know I moved our box of memories to the attic. Can you pay her a visit and tell her?
“And just how do you propose I do that?” she asked, amused. “Excuse me, Mrs. Konigsbergdormenoffski—” She stopped herself. “No wonder we called you Cap. Your last name is way too long and hard to say.”
I know. He shook his head. Just call her Mrs. K.
“Excuse me, Mrs. K,” she went on. “Your dead husband informed me that he moved your wedding album to the attic. By the way, sorry to hear your basement flooded. He told me about that, too.”
Perfect.
“With all due respect, sir, did you lose your common sense in the afterlife?”
My wife already knows about your gift.
Reid set her hands on her hips. “You told her?”
Not to worry. She’s never breathed a word of it to anyone.
“Fine.” She started up the stairs once again. “I’ll drop by your house in the morning.”
Mind if I come with you? He hurried up the steps alongside her. I might’ve promised her you’d pay her a visit to pass along some messages from me after I, you know…
“Kicked the bucket?”
Yeah. That. He frowned. There are a few more things I’d like to tell her.
She paused in the stairwell. She’d always promised herself she would never do that. Passing messages along to loved ones seemed like a tricky business. But Cap was different. Not only had he become a father figure in her life, she owed this man her career. “It’d be an honor, Cap.”
Thanks, Sylver. Then, with one last smile, he was gone.
She had a feeling she’d be seeing a lot more of him for years to come.<
br />
When she reached the fourth floor, she set her hand over the door handle and hesitated. Whatever lay on the other side had better not make her cry. Being known as the crazy cop who talked to dead people was one thing. Being labeled as a touchy-feely cop who cried was another. She’d worked hard to earn her reputation as a hard-ass. She had a duty to uphold that image.
Steeling herself, she swiped her badge and yanked the door open.
There, lined up on both sides of the corridor, were patrol cops, detectives, sergeants, lieutenants, and captains from every precinct. They started applauding as soon as she stepped through the doorway. The applause grew in volume with cheers and whistles as she made her way down the center with Mug at her side.
“Nice job, Sylver.”
“Way to get those bad guys.”
“Best detective we have.”
“Couldn’t be prouder.”
She rounded the corner and noticed the spot where her desk had once rested was now bare. Just four rust-colored stains remained on the tile floor, left behind by the desk’s metal legs.
She looked up. London, Garcia, Marino, Boggs, and O’Leary were standing in front of Boyle’s office. As they stepped aside, she noticed that a second doorway had been installed alongside the original. There were now two doors. A wall had been erected in the center of Boyle’s office, making one office into two.
Her desk was now inside the second office.
The applause died down as Reid stepped over. Boyle was perched on the corner of her old desk inside the new office. “What do you think?”
She grimaced. “The walls are pink.”
“Primer. Boggs and O’Leary are painting it this weekend. Didn’t expect you back so soon.”
She saw the nameplate on her desk. “This is for me?” she asked, stunned.
“You’re still retired,” he assured her. “BPD created a new position for you, as a civilian.” He walked over to the newly installed door and gestured to the lettering on the glass: In-House Homicide Consultant.
“We come to you now with our cases,” Garcia said.
“Not just us,” London explained. “Homicide detectives from every precinct around Boston are already lining up, waiting to meet with you.”
Sylver and Gold Page 23
