For You (The 'Burg #1)(80)

Nothing.

So he went hunting, knocked on a few doors, both sides of her house and across the street.

No one home.

He gave up and as he walked back to the Station, his cell rang. He yanked it out of his pocket and the display said “February calling.”

When Morrie gave him her number and he’d programmed it into his phone several days ago, he’d been uncertain how he felt about doing it. There was no uncertainty about how he felt about it being there now.

He flipped it open and put it to his ear. “Feb.”

“List is ready. Mom’s bringing it down to the Station once we get into the bar.”

She hated doing it he could hear it in her voice.

That’s why he made his voice soft when he replied, “Okay, honey.”

“You call Costa’s?”

He could see she was rabid for Costa’s but then again Feb liked to eat, always did. He’d noted in the last two years she still did the amount of times he saw her, Morrie, Ruthie or Darryl take off with orders and they got Reggie’s or take out from Frank’s or a delivery came from Shanghai Salon. You didn’t get the kind of curves she had, curves he’d now seen na**d and touched with his hands, from eating salads. The vision of her sliding off his bed to stand na**d at its side this morning was pleasantly seared to the backs of his eyeballs and he hoped to God that burn never healed.

“Not yet.”

“They get busy on a Tuesday.”

They were busy every day.

“Baby, I’ll call.”

“They give you a song and dance about being booked, throw your police detective weight around,” she advised.

He bit back his laugh and smiled into the phone. “We don’t tend to do that.”

“Colt, you get called out to see dead bodies for a living, you gotta get somethin’ good outta that badge.”

“We’ll get a reservation,” he told her and they would. Costa’s was in another town but Stavros Costa knew Jack and Jackie from way back, Feb, Morrie and Colt too. They’d all been going there together for years, Feb’s birthdays, Colt and Feb’s first official date, when Colt made All-State the first time and the second, when they took sectionals, when they took regionals, the time Jackie won five hundred dollars in the lottery. Stavros knew all about Feb and Colt. If Colt called and said he and Feb were coming in for dinner, Stavros would build a table for them with his bare hands if he had to.

“All right,” Feb said.

“How’s your head?” Colt asked.

“My head?” Feb asked back.

“Yeah, you exhausted yet at how busy it’s been in there?”

She was silent a second then he heard her soft, husky laughter and he felt that laughter slide through his gut straight to his dick. “Nope, not yet.”

“Good.”

“Gotta jump in the shower.”

Now that was a pleasant thought to leave him with, he’d have to find a way to thank her.

“All right, later.”

“Later.”

He was walking down the sidewalk, the Station in his sights when he saw Sully walking Marie Lowe’s parents to a car parked on the street. He shook the mother’s hand and clapped the father lightly on the back. Sully was uncomfortable with their grief and didn’t try to hide it. There was an art to dealing with victims. You needed to show empathy while at the same time displaying professionalism. You had to say your pain means something to me and I’m going to do something about it at the same time.

Dealing with victims was the hardest part of the job, it didn’t matter if their cars stereo was stolen or their daughter was hacked to goo with a hatchet. They all got that lost look in their eye, their belief in the good of the world shaken. Difference was, you had your car stereo stolen you got another one and moved on. No way to replace a daughter.

He waited for Sully at the foot of the steps and had to wait awhile because Sully watched long after their car drove away. What Colt saw in his glance of Marie’s parents had sent a surge of rage through him. Sully had spent a morning visiting with them in that pit of grief and even though he could walk out and they were there for eternity, it always took you awhile to shake off the feeling of that place.

Sully caught his eye when he turned toward the Station.

“You all right, Sul?” Colt asked when he got close.

“No,” Sully’s gaze moved away, “Denny Lowe is a goddamned c**k sucking motherf*cker who I’m glad’s gonna burn in hell.”

There you go, that pretty much said it all.

“Wanna walk down to Meems’s and get a coffee?”

“I wanna hunt down Denny Lowe with a hatchet,” Sully said then sighed and looked at Colt’s hand. “You already got a Meems.”

“It’s empty.”

Sully nodded. “Don’t think even Meems’s ginormous chocolate chip cookies would make me feel better but it’s worth a try.”

They walked to Mimi’s and she didn’t try to rib him. She took one look at Sully and was all business. They got their order, Colt shoved more money in the tip jar and they sat at Feb’s table which was in a corner, wall to one side, back to another short wall that led to an opening that allowed staff to get around the glass-fronted counter, space all around for ordering customers to stand and wait for the coffees, no table close. Feb chose it, he knew now, to build that invisible wall around, keeping out townsfolk she thought had lost respect for her. That table worked for him and Sully to keep their conversation quiet, though the morning rush was long gone and only a guy with a laptop and a mug at the table by the front window was company.