Touch of Red (Tracers #12)(12)

“Gone where?” Roland asked.

“Over to Schmitt’s. Didn’t you get the email? It’s Kelsey’s birthday. A bunch of us are meeting there.”

“Kelsey’s birthday, huh?” Roland checked his watch. “Who all’s going?”

“Gee, let’s see.” Maddie gave him a teasing smile. “Kelsey is going. And Ben. Oh, and I think that new woman in the forensic anthro lab? The young blond one? What’s her name?”

“Sara Lockhart,” Brooke said. Roland had been ogling her for weeks and clearly saw his chance. He was already shutting down his computer as Maddie waved and ducked out.

“You coming?” he asked Brooke.

“I don’t know.” She didn’t feel like sitting at a beer garden tonight.

“Oh, come on. One beer.”

“I’ll probably stay here a while.”

“Come on, Brooke. What time did you get here today? Seven?”

“Six.”

“Jesus, you trying to make us all look bad? Pack it in. Go home already. Or better yet, come have a brew with your friends.”

“I should get home.”

“Your loss.” He clamped a hand on her shoulder and gave her a serious look. “But know this, Brookie-Brooke. You used to be fun.”

He walked out, leaving her alone in the huge room. She looked at her worktable, blanketed in case files. Four open cases right now, including the still-fresh homicide that had consumed her since last night when she’d first gotten the call.

Brooke looked around the lab. It was still and quiet, and the smell of cyanoacrylate hung in the air. Usually, she liked working at night because she could concentrate better.

But a break sounded tempting. So did spending time with her friends. Problem was, Schmitt’s was a cop hangout, and she could easily imagine bumping into someone she didn’t want to see.

You used to be fun.

“Screw it,” she muttered, pulling off her goggles and tossing them on the table. Roland was right.

? ? ?

Within five minutes of arriving at Schmitt’s, Brooke saw that Roland had no interest in Kelsey’s birthday and every interest in hitting on Kelsey’s new lab assistant. Sara Lockhart had pretty green eyes and a friendly smile. Brooke liked that Sara had no trouble holding her own when Roland tried to talk her into a game of pool.

“Not now, thanks,” she said, and then jumped back into the conversation at the far end of the table. Despite the chilly weather, Kelsey had chosen to sit outside at a picnic table under the oak tree wrapped in twinkle lights. Most of the guys from work were inside playing pool, which left Maddie, Sara, and Brooke with the birthday girl.

A waiter delivered Brooke’s beer and walked off.

Maddie lifted her eyebrow. “He’s cute.” She gave Brooke a hopeful look.

“Yep. Too bad he’s not on the meal plan.”

“Meal plan?” Sara asked.

“Brooke’s on a man diet,” Kelsey explained.

“It’s more of a fast.” Brooke slurped the foam off her Guinness. “I just got out of a bad relationship. Two, actually. I seem to have a talent.”

Sara nodded. “I see. Bad as in . . . commitment-phobe? Cheater? Man-child? Just reciting what jumps to mind based on personal experience.”

“Hmm . . . The most recent one, I’d say, is in the man-child category. The one before that . . . probably commitment-phobe. But it wasn’t just me. He was afraid of commitment in all its forms. Jobs, bills, personal hygiene.”

Sara made a face.

“He was an unemployed drummer,” Brooke said.

“I think that’s redundant.” Maddie looked at Sara. “My first boyfriend was a drummer, so I can relate. Sort of. Actually, I traded him in for a doctor, who turned out to be even more of a toad, so I probably shouldn’t be chiming in.”

“But she’s now happily married to a very hot FBI agent, so it all worked out,” Kelsey said.

Maddie smiled. “Yes, it did.”

Sara turned to Brooke. “So, what happened with the drummer?”

“Joshua. Basically, I woke up one morning and realized I’d been paying his bills for a year while he smoked pot on my couch. So I broke up with him. And I decided I was done with guys that had no motivation. Then I went to the other guardrail. Matt.”

“This is the recent guy?”

Brooke nodded. She felt a knot in her stomach, which shouldn’t still be happening. It had been four months. “He had a job and everything. Actually, two. He’s a cop and a volunteer firefighter. But he was a little intense.”

“Controlling,” Kelsey said.

“Intensely controlling.” Brooke sipped her beer. “So, what about you?”

Sara smiled. “I’m very single. And very happy that way.” She clinked Brooke’s glass. “No offense to all the newlyweds. There seem to be a lot at Delphi. There must be something in the water.”

Brooke looked around the table at her friends. Sara had only just met everyone, and she’d already noticed that their friendship group at Delphi was mostly newlyweds. Slowly but surely, everyone was meeting their soul mate and pairing off. Brooke was happy for them. Truly. Every one of her friends had been through some sort of relationship trial by fire to get to their current state. Brooke didn’t see those same things in her future, though. She didn’t know if she ever wanted to be married, and she was sick of thinking about it, sick of dealing with relationships at all. Hence, the man diet.