Page 25 of Cognac Secrets

“Ms. Starkweather?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Well, you’ve got no warrants,” he said, and he sounded surprised by that, which made me want to scowl. “Your boyfriend over there is being cited for riding without a helmet,” he continued. “He ain’t got any warrants either, surprising enough. Won’t be but a minute before we’re done here.”

I felt myself relax marginally but still felt unsettled.

“You know your family has a missing person’s report out on you over there in Plaquemine Parrish?” the new officer asked. He was a little portly and balding. Much older than the cop who’d pulled us over.

“Yes, I know,” I said. “I don’t want to speak to them. As far as I understand it, I don’t have to if I don’t want to. You can note it that you’ve contacted me and that I’m fine and they can buzz off, right?”

He nodded, looking at me curiously. “Not what I expected, but sure, fine. I’ll note it,” he said.

“What did you expect?” I asked and he looked over at Bennie who was scowling at something the other officer was saying, or at me, I couldn’t tell.

“With this lot, you never can tell,” the officer told me and I looked up at him.

“I only just met him,” I said. “So far, he’s not so bad.”

“So far,” the cop said, handing back my ID. “Doesn’t ever tend to stay that way with these types. You might want to think about that.” He raised his eyebrows and gave me a look like a normal dad would, like he was silently urging me to make the right choices.

I nodded, but didn’t say anything. I mean, what was there to say? I didn’t exactly feel like I had enough information either way to make up my mind. At least not yet anyway. It was certainly food for thought, though.

Still, what was also food for thought was my lived experience and I couldn’t help but think back to two nights ago when I lay in bed with Bennie and he sobbed brokenly, drunkenly, into my chest while I petted his hair and made soothing noises. His grief was palpable, wrapping us both in what felt like a heavy, wet wool blanket of sodden emotion.

He felt deeply for this woman, Mia, that he’d somehow mistaken me for, and I couldn’t deny my heart ached in my breast with a longing to be loved like that. I mean, I knew it would never happen… but jeez, anyone who could love like that surely wasn’t a bad person. At least they couldn’t beallbad, could they?

“I’m a big girl capable of making my own decisions,” I said, raising my chin with a bit of defiance.

“Suit yourself, little girl,” he said and handed me back my identification.Wow, what a dick,I thought. Just like so many men I’d ever met – nice, right up until you didn’t readily give them what they wanted or cow towed down to their whims. Then, they were an instant asshole about it.

“My purse?” I asked.

“My compatriot will bring it over when all is said and done,” he said. “You wait right here and don’t move.”

“You’ve got it,” I said and leaned my butt carefully on the seat of Bennie’s motorcycle. I glanced in his direction and he flashed me a proud, if a little savage grin.

I smiled back, faintly, and turned away, watching the cars zip by on the main thoroughfare, before fixing my gaze on the glittering asphalt of the parking lot we were in. The sun was getting low in the sly but was still some time off yet from actually setting.

It was hot out here, with no shade, and eventually I unbuckled and took off his helmet to try and dissipate some of the heat. It helped but not much.

Finally, the cop who pulled us over initially turned Bennie around and let him out of the handcuffs.

They exchanged some words, and Bennie picked up his gun, returning it to his holster at his hip, under his jacket.

The cop handed him some paperwork, and then my purse, and Bennie nodded at something he was saying. He walked over to me and the cop got in his cruiser and pulled off and around into a space facing us.

“Fancy a walk?” Bennie asked.

“Where to?” I asked.

“Same place I was headed before we were so rudely interrupted,” he said, thrusting his chin up the way and I glanced up the road.

“Harley?” I asked.

“Yep.” I traded him helmet for purse and slung it back over me, taking up my jacket that I laid over the bike beside me. He held out his hand and I took it, and we started a stolid march down to the sidewalk to head up the block, leaving his bike parked.

“How bad was the ticket?” I asked and quailed on the inside, expecting a big number.

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