Fatal Reckoning (Fatal #14)(11)

“Bye, Joe.” Cathy’s suggestive, breathy voice did nothing for him.

They said their goodbyes and began the five-block walk home, still arm in arm, as the brisk autumn air swirled around them, scattering fallen leaves on the sidewalk.

“If I stab her eyes out, will you have to arrest me?” Marti’s question, asked when they were two blocks from the church, made Joe laugh—hard.

“No one is above the law, my dear, not even the police chief’s wife.”

“I should have some advantages after all the nonsense I have to put up with as the police chief’s wife. Late-night phone calls and messed-up dinners and vacations, as well as interruptions to private activities.”

As chief of police, he never ignored a phone call. Ever. And that had led to some rather unfortunate interruptions in his married life. Luckily, his wife mostly rolled with the demands of his job. But some things, she said, should never be interrupted. He agreed and looked forward to the day, hopefully a few short years from now, when he would retire and give her all his time. In the meantime, he took the calls. “Your sacrifices have been significant, my love, but you still can’t stab her eyes out. If you were, however, to accidentally stick your foot out when she was walking by… Well, those things happen to the best of us.”

She snorted out an inelegant laugh. “That’s a very good idea. She’s in church, for heaven’s sake, and lusting after someone else’s husband. What is wrong with her?”

“She is only human after all, and your husband is a rather handsome sort of guy.”

“My husband is a stud, and she can eat her heart out. He’s all mine.”

“And he wouldn’t have it any other way.” Putting his arm around her, he kissed her temple. “You know you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“Of course I do, but it still annoys me when she looks at you like you’re an all-you-can-eat buffet and she’s starving.”

Joe laughed so hard he had tears in his eyes, recovering himself to notice someone waiting for them on their front porch. Immediately on guard, he reached for the concealed weapon he wore at all times on his hip.

“What?” Marti asked after he released her somewhat abruptly.

“Visitor on the porch.”

She took a closer look. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Joe. That’s Jake!”

Her vision was better than his, but now that she mentioned it, he could see the distinctive build of his close friend and colleague Jake Malone. At six feet four inches, Jake was a rather imposing sort of guy, and he should’ve recognized him more easily. Might be time for an eye exam. He tucked the weapon into the waistband of his pants.

Jake came down the stairs to meet them.

“You need to stay out of the shadows, my friend.” Marti raised her cheek to accept Jake’s kiss. “Blind-as-a-bat here nearly took a shot at you.”

“That’s not true.” Joe shook the hand of his friend and detective captain. “I never came close to shooting. What brings you by?” When he took a closer look at Jake and noticed distress, Joe’s stomach dropped in anticipation of bad news. “What is it?”

“Skip Holland passed away this morning.”

“Ah, no.” Marti sagged against him.

Shock hit Joe like a punch to the gut. He put his arm around Marti as much to comfort her as to be comforted. Images from decades of friendship cycled through his mind, one right after the other, beginning with his and Skip’s first days at the academy. And then he thought of the young, brash lieutenant who headed up his Homicide division, the woman who was like a niece to him, who’d called him Uncle Joe until she joined the force and he became her deputy chief and, later, her chief. “Sam…”

“Is holding up okay.”

“We need to go to them.” Marti took charge in his moment of shock. “Give me a minute to gather up the dinner I made. We’ll take it to them.”

She always made extra so they got a couple of days without having to cook. Why was he thinking of such things at a time like this? Skip was dead. He repeated the words to himself, hoping that would make them easier to process.

Marti gave his arm a squeeze and went up the stairs, moving quickly because she knew he’d want to see Celia and the family.

“You okay?” Jake asked when the two men stood alone on the sidewalk.

“I don’t know.” Jake Malone was one of three people in the world Joe Farnsworth completely trusted. The other two were Marti and Skip. Now one of them was gone. “You?”

“Even though we knew this could happen at any time in the last four years, I’m still completely stunned.”

“Me too.” He glanced up at Jake. “You’re sure Sam is okay?”

“I only talked to her for a minute, but she sounded better than I would’ve expected.”

Hands on hips, Joe tried to wrap his head around this latest development. “We’ll need the biggest damned police funeral this city has ever seen.”

“Absolutely. I’ve already put the word out to notify all the other departments once we have a plan.”

“We’ll get tens of thousands for this one.” Not just because of who Skip had been, but because of who his daughter and son-in-law were to the city and the country.

“No doubt about it. And we’ve upgraded the charges in his case from attempted murder of a police officer to murder. That was the first thing I did when I heard the news. I’ve also arranged for an honor escort from Ninth Street to the funeral home.”