Page 6 of Misadventures in Blue
“Thank you,” I say, and thankfully my voice is as calm and cool as ever. “Can you walk me through what you saw when you pulled up?”
Sutton nods but not before his eyes drop to where my hand clenches around the portfolio. I angle myself away from him ever so slightly so he can’t see, and he looks back up. I can’t read his gaze…and I’m not sure if I want to.
“I arrived about ninety minutes ago—dispatch sent it out as an alarm call,” he starts and then proceeds to give me a clear and concise accounting of his arrival and subsequent search. I’m impressed with his eye for detail—most rookies don’t know what to look for on calls like these—and I’m also impressed with the way he describes his search. Brief and without posturing or flourish. Eve
n Frazer couldn’t resist the occasional showboating back in his time.
“Thank you,” I say when I’ve finished. “And you’re back on duty tomorrow?”
“At three in the afternoon. I’ll have my report to you by five.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Russo advises in a half-supervisory, half-cynical tone, and then she turns to me. “You’ll get it at some point in the next forty-eight.”
I make a mental note of that. “Then you’re free to go, Officer,” I tell him, my eyes dropping one last reluctant time to the hewn, lean length of his body. My little ogle is snagged by the embroidered J. Sutton on his uniform shirt.
“Jace,” he says softly.
I glance back up at him.
“J is for Jace,” he explains.
“Oh,” I say and then notice Russo is narrowing her eyes at me. I clear my throat and offer my hand again. “Then thank you, Jace. This has been very helpful.”
And I manage not to shiver when he shakes my hand a second time, his eyes falling to my mouth. I also manage not to make a disappointed whimper as his skin parts from mine and he turns to leave.
After he’s several paces away, Russo crosses her arms and squints up at the fingernail-shaped moon. “He’s only just graduated from field training a few months ago,” she says conversationally. “Very young.”
“He’s very adept,” I say in a neutral tone.
“Hmm.” She makes the noise in a way that lets me know I’m not fooling her. “Okay, well, I think we’re close to being able to release the scene if you’re all good?”
“I’ve got everything I need,” I say. “Thanks, Nicki.”
She waves me off, reaching down to say something into her radio, and I walk away, trying very hard not to notice the stoic shadow of a certain police officer walking back to his patrol car.
I still notice.
I make a final round through the scene and then walk back to my car, portfolio cradled under my arm. I open it up to where I keep my car key in an inside pocket, and as I’m unlocking the passenger door to set my portfolio in the seat, a patrol car slides into the spot next to me.
The window rolls down, revealing the startlingly handsome profile of Sutton.
“I wanted to make sure you got into your car okay,” he says quietly.
I glance around me and then raise an eyebrow. “There are at least seven cops in this lot. And lest you forget, I’m a cop too.”
“You don’t have your service weapon on you.”
“Don’t I?” And I’m not exactly sure why I do it, but I can’t say my motivation is entirely professional defensiveness. I pull up the hem of my pencil skirt to show where my small Glock is strapped to my inner thigh, revealing my garters and stockings in the process.
I can hear Jace’s audible inhale, and when I glance back up at him, his eyes burn with something like fury. But I’m guessing the strain around his mouth and the way he works his jaw to the side has nothing to do with anger.
“It’s safer to carry your gun on your hip,” he says tightly.
“I don’t like to ruin the lines of my skirt,” I say. Yes, I’m that vain, although at the first sign of danger, I would have had my weapon out and ready.
I realize I’m still showing off my lingerie when he lets out a low groan. My body responds to his response like he’s just touched a match to gasoline, and Russo’s voice echoes in my head: have a little fun.
Be happy.
