Page 3 of Turkey Trouble

“Consider it a gift for us both. Be ready for me.”

“Sure.” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and enjoy the pulse beating between my legs. It doesn’t take a genius to know I’m going to enjoy my night with a man who enjoys me, most of all. “Don’t be late, okay? I want to make the most of our evening.”

“I’ll run.” He twists on his chair, his stubble brushing the phone, when a shoutedMaloneechoes across his bullpen. So he stands, the squeak of his chair telegraphing his moves. “That’s my briefing. See you in an hour.”

“Okay.” I release my lip and smile. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He pulls the phone from his ear and kills our call, so I’m left sitting in the silence of a morgue. We’re working on a skeleton crew, despite the peak traffic rolling through our doors over the last twenty-four hours. Because unless the dead are part of a homicide investigation, the living and their families are more important.

Which is primarily Aubree’s argument, obviously.

Sighing, I stand and slip my phone into my lab coat pocket, then I start toward my door. Though, of course, Aubree spins in her chair and watches me make the walk.

She’s smug. While I’m… well, I’m not giving in on my stance about tonight.

But I suppose I could be kinder about it all.

Dragging the door open, I lean against the glass and meet her eyes. “I hope you enjoy dinner with your family. And I know themayor will love having his daughters in town. I’m confident Cato will be fine with Tim, and I’m certain Fletch will take Mia to the bar for dinner. Because that’s what we do every other night.”

“I’m not trying to get between you and sex.” She snags a sucker from her top desk drawer—coincidentally, the same suckers I keep in my desk, which means I haveanotherthief in my midst. Tearing the wrapper open, she plops the red, heart-shaped candy on her tongue and talks around the stick. “I’m just saying family is family, and don’t be surprised if your plans don’t go the way you want them to.”

“Are you saying youintendto knock on my door and interrupt the plans I’ve made?”

She shakes her head, lifting her chin in defiance. “Not unless you give me express permission to do so. In which case, I’m bailing on Casa Emeri and crashing at yours.” She stops and grins. “Do I have express permission?”

“No.”

Her eyes darken and her lips pop into a pout. “Fine.”

“So if you’re not knocking on my door, and Cato agreed to not be home tonight, and Felix is on the other side of the country…” I tilt my head. “I think my plans will remain intact.”

“It would be a disservice for me not to warn you.”

“Warn me of what?” I bring my hand up and scrub my face. “There’s nothing to warn me of! Archer is leaving the station in an hour. You and I are walking out in half that. Doctor Patten will arrive any minute now and take over for the night shift. Tim isn’t coming to my apartment: he’s running the bar. My biggest threat is Fletch and Fifi, since they don’t actually have families to spend the holiday with and now that I’m saying that out loud, guilt makes my stomach hurt. Everyone else has somewhere else and someone else to be with.”

“You completely disregard the fact thatwe’refamily.” She pulls the sucker from between her lips and searches my eyes. “Ihave my mom and dad and siblings, and Cato has his brothers, and the mayor has his kids. Fletch has Mia. And Fifi… might have a cat, maybe. I should get her a cat,” she decides. “Everyone has someone, but you forget thatwe, together, make a family too.”

“We’re friends! Some of us are colleagues. That’s notcutting up a turkeyfamily.”

She tsks in the back of her throat. “This is your first Thanksgiving in Copeland, so I’ll forgive your hurtful words. But next year, I expect a better attitude from my best friend in the whole wide world.”

The elevator dings, twenty feet from where I stand, the light above announcing its arrival. Then Doctor Patten steps out, fresh faced, rosy-cheeked and, no doubt, with a belly full of turkey.

“Thank God,” I groan. “The cavalry is here.”

Patten stops on the threshold of the elevator, eyeing us across the ninth floor. “What? Mass casualty event? Serial killer? More motor vehicle mayhem?”

“Nothing happened.” I drop my hands into my pockets as she leaves the steel threshold and moves our way. “Business as usual, if not somewhat more accelerated.”

“Well, statistically, today is the day more people turn up dead.”

“Right! That’s what I said. As soon as you take the wheel, I’m leaving.” I back up into my office and let the door swing shut, but Patten and Aubree follow, like I knew they would. “Rounds are complete,” I tell my night-shift counterpart. “We have seven DBs stacked up on the second floor. Delegate those to your staff once your shift officially begins. You’re down one tech; they called in earlier and cited a stomach bug.”

“Lou?” Patten takes the visitor chair, folding her legs and bouncing her foot. “She looked a little green when we left this morning, so I’m not surprised.”

“Sucky day to not feel well.” Aubree plops onto the leather couch pushed up against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “I’d prefer turkey and stuffing over vomiting and diarrhea.”

“Pretty sureeveryonewould prefer the turkey and stuffing,” I drawl. “And yes,” I bring my eyes to Patten. “Lou is the tech who is out. You can probably expect a busy night, considering the booze will start flowing soon, the snow is coming down, and people are, generally, stupid. I’ll pick up the baton when I get back tomorrow morning. Pack them up, bag, tag, document, then pass the reports over when I arrive. I’ll clear out as many as I can before end of shift.”

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