Page 52 of Leave

Nolan glanced up and chuckled, then turned his attention back to the allegedly antisocial cat. She was arching her back and turning in circles, tail up and eyes squinting; she reminded me a little of ShiShi when she was enjoying affection and attention.

I laughed. “Of course, he makes instant friends with the unfriendly cat.”

John huffed a laugh and shook his head. “That’s Nolan for you. We had one when he was a kid who’d hiss at everyone and bite the hell out of you if you tried to pet him. I come out one day, and there’s Nolan, carrying him around like nobody’s business.”

“Let me guess,” I said dryly. “Didn’t hiss or scratch?”

“Not once.”

“Oh, he bit me a few times.” Nolan glanced over from scratching Cleo’s back. “He liked me, but he still had his limits.”

“He’d have taken anyone else’s arm off. You?” John waved a hand. “You just got little scratches and nips now and then.”

Nolan just shrugged and continued petting Cleo. As we all settled in to chat—the two of us on the couch and his parents in their recliners—Cleo made herself right at home on Nolan’s lap.

I reached out to let her sniff my hand, heeding the warning about her being unfriendly before I tried petting her. Good thing, too—she sniffed my fingers, then narrowed her eyes and growled.

“Okay, okay.” I drew my hand back. “I won’t pet you, then.”

She kept glaring at me.

Nolan laughed and scratched behind her ears. Immediately, she closed her eyes and started purring again, kneading on his jeans. “You just don’t have the magic touch,” he informed me.

I eyed him, hoping he caught what I couldn’t say out loud in front of his folks:You weren’t complaining about my magic touch last night.

“So, Riley.” John sat back in his chair. “I understand you’re in the Navy?”

“I am. Fourteen years down, six to go.”

“Wow. And what do you do?”

“I’m a cop.”

Carol cocked her head. “So you’re one of the people at the gate?”

“Well, not anymore.” I chuckled. “That’s more for the younger MAs. I supervise a shift of about twenty of them, and I also go out on patrol, respond to calls—things like that.”

“What kind of calls do you get?” John asked. “I can’t imagine you’re investigating murders and such on a base.”

“I mean, it does happen. There hasn’t been one on Okinawa since I’ve been there, so it’s mostly traffic accidents, theft, and domestics.” I exhaled. “The domestics—there’s alotof those.”

“No kidding.” Nolan looked at his parents and tipped his head toward me. “That’s how we met, actually. He and his partner were helping a woman who was trying to hide from her husband until she could get off the island. His partner was a buddy of mine, and he asked me to put her up until arrangements could be made.”

“That sounds like my Nolan,” Carol said with a smile. “Always helping people out.”

Nolan actually blushed, though he was mostly focused on petting Cleo.

“I’d love to say stuff like that doesn’t happen very often,” I said. “But… it does. A lot. And when we’re overseas, resources and support networks can be kind of limited, so a lot of people get stuck in really volatile situations. That’s, uh, not my favorite part of the job.”

“That’s awful,” Carol said. “Have you ever had to investigate something like a murder?”

“Once.”

Nolan’s head snapped up. “You have?”

“Mmhmm. Back in Pensacola. Murder/suicide in base housing.” He grimaced. “That was not a great day.” My skin crawled at the memory, but I tamped it down. “The poor kid who responded to that call is scarred for life, that’s for sure.”

Carol touched her chest. “Oh, I can imagine. Was he young?”

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