Page 54 of Sighs By the Sea

Hopefully, tonight, she’ll be back on my mind. After this bomb dropped in my lap, I’ll drive up to see her. I need to. In the short time we’ve been together, I’ve already begun to rely on her. The best part is, that thought doesn't scare me near as much as it used to.

Maggie

After Vanessa drops me off at my house, I quickly change into fresh clothes, sniffing my Grayson-scented shirt only twice—not enough to be creepy. Dabbing on a little makeup, I do a happy dance. This morning was fun—so much fun that I have a perma-smile on my lips. We didn't exactly make plans for another date, but the words "next time" linger in my mind.

There will be a repeat. Quite a few if I have it my way. If I need to show up naked on his doorstep repeatedly, I will. The thought makes my smile grow. He’d probably love that anyway. Once I'm more presentable, I text Harry for a ride, leaving my unreliable car in the garage to avoid breaking down on a Los Angeles freeway—a quick way to lose my mind, or my life. Fifteen minutes later, I get the text that Harry is here.

I strut out of the house with a pep in my step. When I slide into the passenger seat, Harry quirks a brow. "Walk of shame?" My late morning makes it clear I wasn’t home last night. No sense in lying about it.

"Yep. Are those donuts?" I point to the brown bag in the back seat as Harry pulls away from the curb. I have an uncanny ability to sniff out food in any situation, so my focus narrowed in on it before I even got inside the Crown Vic.

"Bagels. Slightly healthier." I nod and reach back. While I dip pieces into the tiny pot of cream cheese and take a bite, I notice we’re not driving toward the station.

"Where we headed?"

"Oh, you're going to love this. Guess word has gotten around that Axe is locked up."

"Oh yeah?" I can’t help the excitement in my voice. This might be the break we need.

"Yep. Someone wants to talk to us, about him."

"Sounds fun," I say, ripping another piece of my breakfast off. We might need a break in the case, but I hate visiting CIs in jail. "Known associate?"

"Bingo. Charley Stough." I run the name through my internal memory but come up blank. Since I practically memorized the entire case, that means he’s not in my file as a suspect, nor does he have any connection with our dead guys, Phillip Waters or Lucas Peterson.

While Harry battles forty minutes of congestion on the 405, I use my cell to gather what I can about Charley. Not much to go off of. He’s in for violating parole when he was caught with a gun and some cocaine. Six years left on his sentence. By the time Harry pulls into the parking lot, I have a good handle on who we’re talking to.

Getting out of the car, I have a spring in my step—sex does that to a person. "So, you gonna dish, or should I get out my lamp and phonebook?"

I bark out a laugh at his cliché version of an interrogation. "You got the notes?" He was the first person I called when we nabbed Axe. I also emailed Harry a summation of the time on the island and what Axe said late last night between interviews.

"On your work, yes. But I have yet to hear you admit that Grayson delivered the goods."

"Harry, gross!"

He shrugs. "I don’t need the details, but I’d like to know if your relationship has become less cop/criminal and more step momma/daddy."

I hold up both hands as he opens the door to the facility. "Step momma? We hooked up, not eloped." A guard looks my way, but I stare him down. He works in a prison; my crass words should hardly shock him.

"Well okay then." Harry laughs as he says it. He certainly isn’t put off by my brashness, which is part of why we work well together. "So, am I adding him to my Christmas party list?"

That’s months away, and I roll my eyes. "Don’t hold your breath."

"Buuuut?" he singsongs as he signs the guest log. I pull my badge out to do the same as soon as he’s done.

"We’re dating," I say, trying to hide my smile. He slowly bumps his fist against my shoulder. "Atta girl." I don’t know why he’s so excited. He knows Grayson’s history. Part of me thought I would get a lecture. It’s nice that he’s being supportive.

The sex was fantastic, but more than that, Grayson just… fits. There’s no strange silence between us, no timid awkward kisses. He allows me to feel free to be myself—singing in the car, using his toothbrush, even punching Axe for me, which was completely hot. And there was no talk about how I shouldn’t risk my pretty little face. He didn’t like the bruise on my cheek, that was clear. But he never chastised me for doing my job. In fact, I think he liked seeing me in action.

The door to the back buzzes, and Harry swings it open. A guard is waiting and checks the visitors' badges we received moments ago. With a nod, he leads us down the concrete hall where we’re put into an interrogation room to wait for our snitch. Gray cinderblock walls with no adornments, so every sound seems to bounce around fifty times without anything to absorb it. The only furniture is a metal table and a set of chairs. Not exactly the peak of comfort.

While waiting, Harry hums a happy tune.

"Yes. Are you gloating?" I ask.

"I am, and I have no shame. You are positively glowing today."

I laugh loudly, hating how it echoes around us. This place gives me claustrophobia. "I doubt it. I got four hours of sleep after all that crap with the Navy."

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