Page 42 of Castling the Rook (Checkmate 3)

“Nope!’ He turns to the board with black marker poised. “We’re tracking this animal down, and we’re making an example of him. Let’s start with what we know. We’ll work through the squad and find out who was here for every theft. We’ve already ruled Oz out, since he’s not here today, but we run this by the book. No mistakes. No stone left unturned from the top down. Oscar, O-S-C-A-R.” He spells each letter out. “F-R-A-N-K-S. Deputy. Newlywed and always eating because he’s a fat shit.” He turns and points. “You said he was your prime, but seeing as he’s off site today, he can’t be your guy.”

“Okay.” Just seeing a fellow officer’s name on that board makes me sick to my stomach. I know this is just fun and games. It’s not a real rat chase, and yet, his name on that white board makes me want to hurl. “Not Oz.”

“Not Oz. Let’s run Libby. She’s shifty as fuck, and we know women are usually the guilty party. They’re wily as hell and rarely apologetic about it.”

* * *

Note to self:never ask Chief Turner to run a case with you again, unless it’s arealcase and you’re willing to have the suspect strung up and executed.

Later than I meant to get here – because Alex is insane – I pull my truck into the parking spaces outside my mom’s home and pull the handbrake up. Grabbing my hat, despite the fact the sun is almost completely hidden below the horizon, I slide out of the truck and pocket my keys. Wallet in my back pocket, and phone in my front, I spin a coin between my fingers to keep them busy and step through the front door of the beautiful home.

This is the best place I can afford for her; there are no diamond encrusted staircases, and no caviar at dinnertime, but it’s comfortable, and better than anything we could afford when I was younger. Now, just like when I was a kid, mom can watch General Hospital in comfort and bake when she’s feeling up to it.

Yeah; totally badass upbringing.

Kid’s like Ben and Mac would’ve kicked my ass when I was their age, but my mom did the best she could with the resources she had, and I turned out fine, adjusted, and able to bake brownies like a pro.

There’s a reason my lunch thief takesmylunch and no one else’s; because I cook like a boss and my sugar free, high protein brownies taste like legal crack.

Snagging an apple on the way through, I take a bite and push my hat higher on my forehead. The place is quiet. It’s past dinnertime, and the TV is on low, so my crunchy snack is the only thing I hear as I move through hallways and knock on her room door. “Momma?” I open the door and grin the way a little boy might at the end of his first day of kindergarten. Fuck Andi and her assumption that I’m a mommy’s boy, because I kind of am, but I’m not ashamed.

My mom deserves it and more, and if I promise to visit, then I’m gonna visit.

Stepping into the shadowed room, I barely make any noise as her eyes stray from the TV and stop on mine. She lays in bed on her side, her frilly blankets pulled up to her armpits, and her TV glasses slightly askew because of her pillow. She watches me for a beat, like my visit surprises her, then she grins and lifts an arm in welcome. “Hey, mijo. You look good today.”

“Momma.” Relief swarms my belly as I step forward. Kicking my shoes off, I climb onto her bed behind her so my body spoons hers. I lay my forehead against the center of her back the way I did a billion times when I was little, and when I’ve had my fill, I pull back and let her get on with her shows.

We don’t have to chat. I just eat my apple and enjoy the way her room smells of fresh flowers and baked goods.

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