Page 95 of Script Swap
“I’m saying, you could use your powers of observation and intuition to figure out what’s going on, if you wanted.”
“Robert Mai, I am going to—to spank you!”
The goofy grin got even bigger for a second, and then it was gone, poof, and Bobby was serious.“You told the sheriff about the connection to the first robbery.”
“Yes.”
“And the fingerprints they never matched in the safe.”
“Right.The fingerprints you noticed.The one you said you would have run through AFIS.”
For a moment, Bobby was silent.And then he said, “She told me that was good detective work.”
The sound of the tires filled the Pilot.
“She said,” Bobby continued, “that was the kind of thing she wanted to see from her detectives.The ability to look at a scene, determine key pieces of evidence, and make the kind of connections that could be used to build a case.”
“Bobby, what—” But I stopped myself.
“I told her I didn’t make the connection myself,” he said.“I told her you were the one who figured out everything with Nora.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
“Shut up?”he murmured.
“Is she making you a detective?Did she say she wanted you to be a detective?Oh my God, Bobby, are you going to be a detective?”
Bobby said slowly, “She said she didn’t think the test was necessary—”
“Pull over.”
My voice was sharp and wobbly all at the same time, and something about it—the pitchiness, maybe—must have convinced Bobby this wasn’t a joke, because he eased the Pilot onto the shoulder.
“Are you okay?What—”
I took his face in my hands and kissed him.“I am so proud of you.”
And then, because I am perpetually, forever and always, indisputably Dashiell Dawson Dane, I started to cry.
Thank God for Bobby, because he didn’t ask any questions or try to get answers out of me.He held me and ran his hand up and down my back and did that thing I like where he scruffed his fingers through the hair on the back of my head.It was all soothing and lovely and textbook handling for an overstimulated toddler.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said when I got myself under control.“I think it all caught up to me, the gun, and Betty, and—God, I feel like I ate way too much sugar and I’m crashing now.”
Bobby cleaned my glasses for me.He found tissues in the glove box, and I dried my cheeks.
“God, Bobby, I amsoproud of you.”
He gave a funny laugh.“Are you?Because it kind of feels like I cheated.”
“You didn’t cheat.”
“I didn’t have to take the test.”
“I swear to God, I will pull your pants down and spank you right now.”
He smiled, but it was rundown, not the goofy grin I loved.
“Please think about it,” I said.“Sheriff Acosta wouldn’t have offered you the position if she didn’t think you’d do a great job.God, Bobby, she’s wanted you to do it for months now.She believes in you.I believe in you.Everyone believes in you.Please, please, please don’t let a stupid thing like your male ego get in the way—”
