Page 5 of Half Baked

“Noah,” I said, my voice sounding strangled. “What happened?”

His face remained grim as he took a step forward. “Maddie, I don’t want you to panic.”

“What happened?”

“Noah’s been shot.”

ChapterTwo

Noah

Two hours earlier

Isipped coffee from my insulated tumbler, savoring the rich aroma. Six months ago, I would have drunk anything wrung from coffee beans. Now, thanks to Maddie and my exposure to her barista job, I’d turned into a coffee snob. My partner, Detective Lance Forrester, found it hilarious.

Maddie. I missed her so much my chest ached.

“Did you just sniff your coffee?” he asked with a snide look from the passenger seat of my car. We were parked about half a block away from the mechanic’s shop we were surveilling.

“No,” I scoffed, sitting upright in my seat.

Amusement danced in his eyes. “Okay.” He turned slightly to face me. “There’s no harm in enjoying your caffeinated beverage. I can tell from here it’s better than the gas station swill you used to get before Maddie taught you the benefits of a good brew.”

I knew he’d thrown Maddie’s name out as bait to start yet another conversation about what an idiot I was. I already knew I was an idiot. I didn’t need him piling on.

But he wasn’t joking about the coffee. I’d since bought a French press and was now learning the art of the pour-over.

My father would surely call me a pussy if he found out, but there was little likelihood of that ever happening. After my trip home for Christmas, I’d decided never to speak to him again. Ever. But I hadn’t told Lance that or anything else about the conversation we’d had two days after Christmas. I hadn’t told anyone—just like I’d promised. My father might think I was worthless, but I could keep a personal confidence. So instead of becoming vulnerable with my friend, something my therapist was not so gently suggesting I do more of, I focused my attention on the shop down the street.

Early this morning, one of my informants told me she’d heard that one of the cars from a recent string of thefts was going to be delivered to George’s Garage. We had nothing else to go on, so Lance and I were on a stakeout, hoping to see it delivered. We were fairly certain George Dempsey, the garage owner, was a middleman. If we caught him with stolen merchandise, we hoped we could convince him to give up the people above him.

“That really sucks about Aunt Deidre,” Lance said, taking a sip of his own coffee. I’d found that most of Maddie’s friends called her Aunt Deidre, as if she were their aunt too. When the woman’s mind wasn’t clouded with her disease, she seemed to bask in it.

He cleared his throat, keeping his gaze through the windshield. “Did you hear that Maddie’s touring St. Vincent’s today? She and Mallory took Deidre to the doctor up in Nashville yesterday, and he told Maddie it was time.”

Shock ran through my body, followed by grief for Maddie. That had to be killing her. Then I got pissed. “YouknowI wouldn’t have heard that Maddie was touring St. Vincent’s.”

He shrugged. “Maybe youshouldknow.”

“Cut the shit, Lance.”

He turned to me, anger flashing in his eyes. “Maybe you should be the one cutting the shit.”

“We need to focus on this stakeout. Not my love life.”

“So you admit that you love her?” he countered.

“It’s asaying, Lance. Let it go.”

“It’s hard to let it go when Maddie’s heart is breaking not only for her aunt—which is unavoidable—but because you dropped her like a hot potato after going home at Christmas. What the hell happened, man?”

I shifted in my seat, but it didn’t make me any more comfortable with this conversation. He’d danced around it plenty, but he’d never flat out asked me like this before. “That’s none of your business. And I didn’t drop her. I told her I needed to take some time to sort things out in my head.”

“Evenyouhave to realize how ridiculous that sounds,” he said snidely.

He wasn’t wrong.

Every day I woke up with the terror that Maddie would grow tired of my bullshit and find someone else who was more worthy of her. Someone who wouldn’t ask to be with her, then tuck tail and run. I knew I was an idiot—I knew it better than anyone else. But my father had done a pretty damn good job of pointing out one last time what a fuckup I was. And while part of me knew I didn’t deserve Maddie, the selfish part of me wanted her anyway. Even if I was ignoring her at the moment.

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