Page 17 of The Italian Reckoning
They’re happy.
I wonder if motorcycle guy likes to dance?
He lingersin my thoughts all the way to my local coffee shop. It’s the only place in a five-block radius that sources their beans ethically and is thus the only place I’m comfortable spending an obnoxious amount on bean juice. Compared to the swill that awaits me at the precinct, this stuff is like liquid gold.
“Your usual?” Bobby, the barista, flashes me a bright smile before the door has even closed behind me.
“You make me sound predictable.” I chuckle, approaching the counter. “Not a good quality in a cop.”
“If the downfall of the police department links back to a basic coffee order, then I’m not sure how much faith I have in the system.”
“Have I shattered the illusion?”
Bobbly makes a sour face. “Inexplicably.”
“My bad.”
“I’m calling the fire department next time I get into trouble.”
“The guys who always get thesamedonut order?”
“You’re right.” Bobby sighs dramatically. “Simplicity is the end of civilization.”
“I’m just a harbinger of bad news.”
“I should bar you.” Bobby laughs lightly as he sets to work, but he pauses and his eyes dart down to my lip. “Ouch. You okay?”
“Oh, this?” Touching my chin brings motorcycle guy to the front of my mind once more and I suppress a shudder. “Just work stuff.” There’s no point in telling Bobby the truth, especially when I’d rather forget the fact that I, a detective, got mugged and had to be saved by a civilian.
“Damn.” Bobby’s face twists with sympathy. “I forget how messed up your job can be.”
“The payment for keeping people safe.” Leaning on the counter, I study the array of pastries on display, then cast my eye around the quiet coffee shop. I’m not usually this late to work, but Bobby remembers my order no matter what time I turn up here. “I should head to work late more often. This place is nice when it’s quiet.”
“It’s my favorite time.” Bobby sets a cup of coffee down in front of me. “I added an extra pump of vanilla, for the…” He motions to his face, then mine. “Least I can do.”
“Thanks, Bobby.” My smile for him grows more genuine. “What do I get if I come here after getting shot?”
Bobby’s mouth presses together as he chuckles. “I could stretch to a free pastry?”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“Hey, a man’s gotta keep his business afloat somehow.”
“True, true.” I place a handful of bills on the counter to cover the coffee, then touch the glass display just as my phone vibrates to life in my pocket. “Can I get the apple strudel too?”
“Sure thing.”
“Hello?” My phone tucks into my shoulder when I tilt my head, freeing up my hand for my coffee and to dig the remainder of the payment out of my pocket.
“Detective Gogs?”
“This is she.”
“Hi. I’m calling to let you know we’ve managed to track down Belle’s ex.”
Tension tightens my chest, making my next breath shorter. “We found him?”
“Yes ma’am. They're bringing him in now.”
