Page 5 of Savage Seduction

I nod.

“Oh wow, how long has it been?”

I study his face but don’t recognize him. I guess word gets around. “I’ve been off the force a few years now.” Gosh, how long has it really been?

“I heard what happened.” The pity in his eyes pisses me off. “Are youdoing okay?”

“I’m fine.” I force a pleasant, albeit tired expression.

“What are you doing these days?” he asks in a tone better suited for funerals than interviewing witnesses at a car accident.

“I’m the new curator at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County.” Saying the words out loud leaves the officer looking confused and me feeling uncomfortable as the silence between us grows.

“Whatever, it pays the bills… right?”You worked hard to get your PhD, don’t be ashamed, I think.

“Sorry, I…” He stammers a few expressions bordering on survivor’s guilt that I refuse to acknowledge or listen to. Yeah, buddy, I used to think having a job outside of being a cop was impossible too. “Could I please give a statement so I can get to work?”

“Oh,” he says, faltering. “For sure.” He turns the page of his notepad and double clicks his pen.

I give him a detailed description of everything I’ve witnessed and then walk away. The crowd has continued to grow, and the wall of humanity presses in closer. The onlookers seem too thick and impenetrable to get through, but there’s no real second choice. I have to get through. “Excuse me,” I say as I slide my body between an elderly couple.

The woman reaches out and puts a hand on my shoulder. “My dear, you’re an angel.” I look back and smile with a slight nod.

“You saved that poor girl,” she continues. “Bless you.”

“Thank you.” I turn and push my way through the rest of the people crammed together trying to get a better look. I raise my arm to grab ahold of the bench near me to pull myself free of the group, but my trapezius muscles and lats ache from the strain of pulling Jenny through the window. I cough, causing my breaths to become ragged and hitched.The smoke I inhaled tests my will to continue on to work. How am I going to even show up on time, never mind get through my whole shift? Maybe I’ll go to the doctor—Ben. Where is Ben? I turn back toward the crowd once I make it to the top of the slight incline near the side entrance to the restaurant.

Cops, paramedics, onlookers, and flashing lights, but no Ben. My posture sags, and my legs feel heavy. Oh well. Zombie-walking back into Taco Caliente, I look for my satchel. “Excuse me,” I say to the young family seated where I’d been eating less than an hour ago. “Did you happen to see a light brown leather bag on this table?”

The couple looks at each other for a moment. “Sorry, sir,” the wife says. “When we got here, the table was clear.”

Dammit. “Thanks.” I go to the food pick-up counter and wait for someone to see me.

“Can I help you?” the middle-aged man with a manager’s tag asks.

I squint at his name tag. “Hi, Hector. Did anyone turn in a leather satchel?”

He nods. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Maximo Ulysses Salgado.”

“Cool name,” he says with a smile. “I saw what you did for that girl out there. You’re a hero.” He reaches under the counter and hands me the bag. “I put some Eat-On-Us cards in there for you too.”

“Aww, you didn’t have to do that.” I would no doubt feel more excited about getting free food the next time I’m hungry.

“Bless you,” Hector says, reaching out to shake my hand.

I squeeze his hand for a second. “Thank you. I appreciate the food and for keeping my belongings safe.”

“Oh, wait a second,” Hector says. His face lights up with a smile, and he giggles as he runs to the cash register. He whispers something to the kid behind the counter, who hands hima slip of paper. Hector hands it to me. “The handsome gentleman with dimples left this for you.” He winks.

“Thanks,” I say. I unfold the paper.Sorry, had to go back to the hospital. Call me sometime, Ben.His number is written, neat and legible, under his name—a surprising skill for a doctor.

Hector waves as he walks back to the register. “Can I help who’s next?”

I sling the bag over my shoulder and head for the door. Hector’s kindness and Ben’s little note work as both a painkiller and antidepressant, but it won’t stop me from getting a coffee on my way to work. Thankfully, I had some money on my coffee app since I didn’t have anymore cash on me. I hurry to my car. A light breeze blows, helping to evaporate the sweat and making me shiver. It isn’t until a glint of light draws my attention to the driver’s side mirror that I stop short.

Hanging from the Prius side mirror, twirling in the unsettled air, is a silver ankh. My heart begins to race, and my breaths grow rapid and shallow. Willing myself forward, I reach for the ancient Egyptian religious symbol with trembling fingers.

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