Page 6 of Snow One Like You

“Smart man,” Marlon states.

“I wouldn’t either,” Russell adds.

“I am offended,” Nate declares in a huff.

“You are a menace,” Captain Holmes chimes in as he passes us on his way to the breakroom.

“I think you have me confused with the coffee you’re about to drink. How can you stomach that stuff?” It could strip the asphalt off the road, let alone the protective lining of our insides.

“It’s not you,” he rebuffs him, never once breaking a smile even though we know he’s messing with him. Holmes is cool like that. Possibly why we refer to him as our Holmey when he isn’t listening.

Though I suspect he knows. And gets a kick out of it.

He once wore the uniform, spent years walking the beat prior to rising through the ranks, being where I am now, and moving past it to fight with the big dogs. For us. For those we’re dedicated to protecting.

“Smith?” Nate guesses again, his persistence, as usual, not diminishing.

“Yes,” I tell him, knowing full well he won’t be deterred unless I give him something, even if it’s one hundred percent false, “that’s it.”

He eyes me, no doubt trying to determine the validity of my statement, but I’m saved when the desk sergeant, Valdez, calls our names, letting us know we’re up. Years on the job, and my heart still hurts at the knowledge people suffering provides my paycheck. All I can do is give them my entire focus, so I gently push thoughts of Snow to the side, reminding myself I’ll see her soon to appease my need for her.

And once I do, I’ll begin Operation Wooing White. Operation Snow Spark? Operation Love Bug? Yeah, I’ll keep working on that.

“Wells!” Nate hollers. “Move it or I’ll lose it.”

Chuckling, I flip him off as I remove my gun from my drawer, grab my cell, and head out. Knowing the best way to get him back, I also take the keys from their usual spot. “I’m driving.”

“Shit,” he mutters. Without looking behind me, I know he’s scrubbing his hand over his face. “Valdez! Put me in for hazard pay, would you?”

Valdez snickers. “Should’ve taken them instead of yammering on,” he reminds Nate.

“Think he’d learn by now,” I add.

“That’s where you went wrong,” Valdez states. “You equated thinking to Moretti.”

“Ithink,” Nate stresses the word, “I need a change of pace.”

“How about faster?” I suggest, thankful for the escape humor provides to combat what we see out in the field.

Reaching our destination, I prepare myself, as much as is possible, to once more see and investigate the evil that people are capable of.

**Snow**

My parents may equate any and all law enforcement as the enemy, but their interrogation techniques are on par with them.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” My mom grills me. If they were here instead of doing this over the phone, they’d notice the widening of my eyes, the ‘oh shit’ expression currently on my face.

“Because I’m talking to my favorite Mom,” I hedge, though I do mean it.

“And Dad!” He adds, letting me know this is a dual attack, err conversation.

“And Dad,” I concur. Also meaning that. Plus, I might need him on my side, so I’m not above sucking up.

“My dude, she’s playing you,” Mom inserts. When I mentioned that they’re unique, I wasn’t exaggerating.

“As if I don’t know that,” he mutters. “Your mom thinks I was born yesterday, Snowball,” his endearment for me. There was a blizzard when I entered the world and he said I came barreling into it like a snowball.

“I can hear you,” she tells him. “When I married you, you promised never to rain,” she loves punning his name, “on my parade.”

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