Page 19 of Taken from Her
Lavender typed carefully:Walk this afternoon? Community park, 2 p.m.? We should talk.
The response came faster than expected:About the case?
Even through text, Lavender could feel Diana's retreat. She typed back:About whatever you're comfortable discussing.
A longer pause, then:I'll be there.
Diana arrived at precisely two o'clock, but everything about her was different. Gone was the pressed uniform, replaced by jeans and a soft sweater that made her seem younger and more approachable. But her shoulders carried tension differently in civilian clothes—less armor, more uncertainty.
She stood near the playground where children's laughter mixed with ocean sounds, scanning the area with cop instincts that never fully switched off. When she spotted Lavender approaching along the coastal path, something flickered across her expression that looked like relief mixed with wariness.
"Thank you for coming," Lavender said, noting how Diana's hands found her jacket pockets.
"About last night—" Diana began, but Lavender shook her head.
"Let's walk first. Then we'll talk."
They fell into step along the path that wound through native coastal plants blooming purple against gray-green sage. Diana's rigid posture gradually relaxed as they moved, the rhythm of walking creating space for a difficult conversation.
"I don't usually..." Diana started, then stopped, jaw tightening.
"Make love to women in café backrooms?" Lavender kept her tone light, but watched Diana's reaction carefully.
"Get involved with people connected to investigations." Diana's voice carried the weight of professional training warring with personal need. "It compromises judgment."
"Does it?" Lavender paused beside a bench overlooking the harbor. "Or does caring more deeply help you understand what you're protecting?"
Diana turned to face her fully, and Lavender saw exhaustion in her features. "I don't know how to do this, Lavender. I've spent years keeping my work and personal lives separate."
"Maybe that's why you're so good at your job and so lonely in your life."
The observation hit its mark. Diana's facade cracked slightly, revealing something vulnerable underneath. "My last relationship ended because I couldn't…because the walls I'd built made it impossible to let anyone close enough to matter."
"And now?"
Diana was quiet for a long moment, watching fishing boats navigate the harbor entrance. "Now I'm standing here wanting to kiss you again, knowing it complicates everything but unable to convince myself to walk away."
Lavender's pulse quickened, but she kept her voice steady. "What if complicated doesn't mean wrong?"
"What if it means I can't protect you? Can't protect anyone because I'm too distracted by..." Diana gestured between them, words failing.
"By feeling something real for the first time in years?"
Diana laughed, but it sounded more like a wound reopening. "By falling for someone whose community I'm supposed to serve objectively."
The admission hung between them, and Lavender stepped closer, close enough to see the gold flecks in Diana's dark eyes.
"Come to dinner," she said quietly. "Let me cook for you. Let's see what this is without the weight of three missing women and community expectations hanging over us."
Diana's resistance wavered visibly. "Lavender..."
"Come to my houseboat. Seven o'clock." Lavender watched something shift in Diana's expression—fear and longing warring within her. "What do you say?"
When Diana finally met her gaze, her eyes held a vulnerability that made Lavender's chest tighten.
"Okay," Diana said simply. "Seven o'clock."
Diana arrived at seven carrying a bottle of wine and visible nerves. She stood on the dock for a moment, studying the houseboat as it bobbed gently.
