Turn Up the Heat—Chapters One and Two
Chapter 1
Mack Revere wanted to believe that the woman had hit him by accident. He couldn’t chalk up the incident to alcohol, a joke gone wrong, or the fact he’d been flaunting the rules. He hadn’t. For once, he’d been playing clean and fair.
Yeah, and look where that got you.
Winded and flat on his back, he blinked up at the clear November sky. Seattle remained cloudless yet cold. The forecast predicted clear skies for the next week, but with the way the weather could turn on a dime, he hadn’t put aside his umbrella just yet. Too bad the rain from the past week had turned the soccer field into a mud bowl.
He grimaced as the cold, wet muck seeped into the back of his jersey and shorts. Ew. Talk about a wet start to his Saturday morning.
A head interrupted his field of vision. Bright-gray eyes dominated an unforgiving face that smirked down at him. A dark ponytail swung over the woman’s shoulder as she tilted her head, studying him like a cockroach. Police officer Cassandra Carmichael, in the flesh.
She stared. “That tumble you took must have hurt.”
“Ya think?” he snarled, trying to ignore the ache in his tailbone. Her slide tackle had done most of the work, but the mud sure the hell hadn’t helped. “Totally unnecessary.”
“Yet we have the ball, so maybe it was necessary.” She glanced over at her teammate, who kicked a goal, then turned back to him and shook her head. “No wonder your team is losing. If they’re smart, they’ll move you from midfield to offense. Put you out where the ball isn’t.”
Before he could say something cutting, witty, and God-willing sarcastic, she flounced away to congratulate her teammates.
He wanted to grab her by that ponytail and roll her around in the mud. Then, maybe, the ref would call a time-out for a mud fight. Everyone would get involved. Carmichael would get wet and dirty. Oh, so dirty. Then she’d have to take off that nasty uniform to showcase that tight, toned body…
He glanced over at her. She didn’t look back, completely ignoring him. Or maybe she’d forgotten she’d nearly broken him on the soccer field.
So much for a family-friendly game.
“I could use a little help here,” he yelled out to her, annoyed to still be so attracted to the woman who just a week ago had given him a speeding ticket. Well, a warning, but still.
“Sorry, can’t,” she yelled back without looking at him and said something he couldn’t make out that caused her nearest teammates to laugh.
“You don’t sound sorry,” he muttered and flipped off her buddies, who promptly sneered and sent the gesture right on back.
The bastards. He absolutely loathed playing against the Top Cops, no matter what the sport.
Tex, fellow firefighter, teammate, and one of Mack’s best friends, helped him to his feet.
“She did that on purpose,” Mack said.
“Of course she did. Duh.” Tex raised a brow, his Texan accent thick as he responded, “If your brains were leather, you wouldn’t have enough to saddle a june bug.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Well, my uncle likes to say it every now and again to the stupid cousin everyone hates.”
“Not helping, Tex.”
But Tex had already turned to yell, “Nice illegal tackle, Officer.” To Mack he said, “Gotta say, though, that tackle was totally bitchy. She added an evil laugh there at the end.”
“Agreed.” Mack wiped gobs of mud from his legs and backside and glared at the woman who should have been penalized with a red card. Or at least a yellow warning. He raised his voice. “Maybe if the refs would quit leering at a certain someone they’d make the right call!”
The tall referee who couldn’t seem to take his gaze from Carmichael’s ass ignored him.
“I feel for you.” Tex shook his head. “Our fans are giving you a pity clap just for standing up.”
Mack glanced to the stands to see Tex was right. A thumbs-up from Tex’s girlfriend. And a “You can do it, Mack!” from… Oh God. His mother.
Mack seethed with embarrassment. For all of five seconds. Then he decided to get even.
On the Top Cops’ next breakaway down the field, Mack switched with the left halfback. “I got this.” He proceeded to steal the ball from one of the Top Cops’ lead scorers and sent it downfield to Tex.
“Lucky break,” the scorer sneered.
Mack waited until the refs turned away before shoving him aside. Talk about annoying.
“Hey!”
“Whatever.”
“Prick.”
“Momma’s boy.”
Mack dodged when the guy took a half-hearted swing at him. Which brought several comments from the stands: protests from the Burning Embers’ fans and cheers from the Top Cops’ side.
The idiot Mack had just shoved eyed Mack with clear derision. “I’m a momma’s boy? Really?” He nodded to the stands.
“You can do it, Mack!” Their mother frowned. “Xavier, be nice to your brother.”
Xavier smiled wide. “Sure thing, Ma.” Then he punched Mack in the arm.
Mack frowned, punched him back, and narrowly avoided a soccer ball to the face. Xavier wasn’t so lucky. He took the ball to the side of his head.
“Gee, that must have hurt.” Mack grinned at his brother swearing and shaking his head, no doubt to clear the ringing between his ears.
“Sorry, Xavier,” Carmichael called.
Mack chuckled, took the ball, and dribbled down the field. He pretended to pass to the center and juked Carmichael into tripping over her own feet. She went down in the mud.
Still laughing, Mack yelled over his shoulder, “Officer down!”
“Jackass!”
He passed to an open player and cheered his delight when their team scored, evening the game.
Turning, he found himself surrounded by muddy, burly police officers, Carmichael among them.
“What?”
“That was cheap,” she argued.
“Was it the ‘Officer down’ part or the part when you fell over your own feet? And wow, are you dirty.”
Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the cops grab a handful of mud. Mack ducked behind Carmichael just as the guy slung it. He heard her gasp and saw she’d been hit in the chest. And what a sorry sight that was, obscuring anything so fine.
She glared at the offender, who startled whistling and quickly walked away.
Deciding that would be the smart move, Mack followed. But not before his brother tackled him to the ground and shoved his face in wet dirt and grass.
Mack retaliated. The rest of his team joined him, and the soccer game turned into a real free-for-all. Laughter, swearing, and a lot of mudslinging went both ways. Unfortunately, both teams ended up being disqualified for unsportsmanlike behavior—but only because some smartass had decked both refs with mud as well.
***
“What a great game,” Mack said as he and the guys joined their friends at the bleachers.
“Great but messy.” Brad, his buddy and part of their tight, four-man firefighting crew, looked down at himself with a frown.
His girlfriend rolled her eyes. “It’s just dirt, Brad.”
Brad blinked. “Oh?” Then he chased her around the field laughing maniacally.
“Don’t even think about it,” Tex’s girlfriend warned.
“Darlin’, I have half a brain. Not much, but it’s the half that works.” He didn’t even try touching her as the pair made their goodbyes.
Reggie, the last member of their four-man fire crew, stood next to Mack’s mother in jeans and a jacket. He sniffled a few more times for effect. “This cold is just awful. Too bad I couldn’t have joined you.”
Considering the guy had been just fine the night prior over beers and darts, he wasn’t earning any loyalty points for not playing this morning.
“I’m so disappointed in your weak lies.” Mack shook his head.
Reggie apparently felt no such upset because he just grinned. “Gotta go. I promised Maggie and Emily doughnuts this morning.”
“Fine. Go. Not like we could have used you or anything.”
“Great. Bye.”
Reggie left.
And then there was one…
“Oh, Mackenzie. Monkey-face, you’re a mess.”
He cringed. “Ma, not here.” Where too many witnesses might overhear and use that name against him at work.
She huffed. “Please. It’s a fine name. After your great-grandfather.”
“Not Mackenzie. That nickname.” He lowered his voice. “You have no idea what the guys—”
“Oh, Mon-key-face…” Xavier, older by two years but always so much more immature than Mack, called in a singsong voice. “There you are.” He walked up to his brother and mother and grinned. “Buddy, you look awful.”
“Right back at ya, moron.” Mack couldn’t help grinning back. The youngest of four, Mack loved his family. Even if they didn’t always seem to understand him. Or like him. But today, Xavier appeared in a decent mood, and their mother had cheered for Mack, the lone firefighter in a family of cops.
Perhaps soon he’d see pigs fly.
Mack made small talk, watching as the crowd dispersed while subtly looking for one particular dirty player—pun intended. There. He saw Carmichael wringing the bottom of her shirt by the parking lot.
“Be right back.” He left before his family could corner him. “Hey, Carmichael.”
She flipped her head back, slapping herself in the face with a wet ponytail, and glared at him. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Pushy.”
“Oh please. You pushed me first. I didn’t even touch you. It was my fast moves and amazingly handsome face that caused you to go down, hard.”
Her lips twitched, but to her credit, she didn’t laugh. “You are so full of it.”
“I really am.”
Ha. There. She smiled. Her expression turned sour once more, and she said in a crisp, cold tone, “What do you want, Revere?”
Excited she remembered his name, he nevertheless tried to play it cool. “Just wanted to let you know I was okay, that my tailbone is still in one piece, you know, in case you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, I’m feeling loose.” He rolled his neck and pulled a knee to his chest, carefully balancing as he stretched his glutes. “Everything still works.” He set his foot down before he fell over and ruined all his careful posturing.
“Am I supposed to be happy for you?”
“Yes, you are.” He smiled. “So, you busy tonight?”
“Seriously?” She spread her arms wide, bringing unintended attention to her full breasts. “I’ll be spending the next week washing the mud from my body.”
As soon as she said it, she stilled, blinked, and watched him.
Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
Her eyes narrowed, as if reading his mind.
“So…you want any help with that?”
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, turned on her heel, and stalked away from him.
But Mack would swear he saw a grin on her face before she left.
Amused and granting himself permission to treat today as a victory, he rejoined his mom and brother, in the mood for a family breakfast after all.
***
Cass stomped back to her car, glad she’d had the foresight to bring a towel with her. At least she’d keep her car seat fairly clean while she drove home.
“Yo, you coming over later?” her partner asked.
She turned to see Jed standing by his car, his wife and the twins already inside and no doubt buckled up. “Who’s cooking? You or Shannon?”
Jed frowned. “Why the hell does that matter?”
She just looked at him.
He sighed. “Shannon’s cooking, okay?”
“I’ll be there.” She gave him a thumbs-up.
He glowered before entering his car and driving away.
Cass chuckled. Her amusement lingered on the drive home. Though she’d never admit it, she thoroughly enjoyed the competitive games she played as a Top Cops team member. Challenging—and usually beating—the other teams in their countywide sports league was so satisfying. Cass played to win. Why else bother playing?
The Burning Embers, those arrogant no-neck men and women firefighters, always gave as good as they got. She could respect that. Even though they’d both lost today, they’d put up a heck of a fight.
She particularly liked the very handsome, sarcastic, and frustrating Mackenzie Revere, though she’d deny it ’til her last breath. From the first time she’d seen the guy, she’d been dumbstruck.
Short, dark-brown hair framed an unforgettable face. He had amazing cheekbones, a straight nose, a square chin, and bright-blue eyes. And when he smiled…good night, but he could stop a girl in her tracks. He’d surely stopped hers. That was to say nothing of his perfectly proportioned, muscular, long-legged body. Or of his seasoned tan that said he liked the sun. She’d once seen him with his shirt off during softball season in the summer… Whoa, momma.
Even the fire department agreed. They’d used him as their poster boy for Station 44. She’d seen Mack on public service advertisements and in the paper and on TV, informing everyone about the new fire station that had opened earlier in the year.
Unfortunately, he was a Revere, one of the many cop families working for the city. His father, mother, and three brothers had all worked or continued to work in law enforcement. Heck, Xavier Revere worked in her precinct. Since Cass never mixed business with pleasure, she’d had to strike the sexy, firefighting Mack off her hottie list. She didn’t date friends of work friends—something she continually told her partner’s tenacious wife.
As much as Cass genuinely loved Shannon, Jed’s wife could be pushy. For some reason, a year ago, she’d decided to put her matchmaking skills to work finding Cass a boyfriend.
At first, Cass had wondered if Shannon might be jealous of all the time Cass spent with Jed on the job. But after a frank conversation with the woman, she’d learned that, no, Shannon trusted both Cass and her husband. She had every right to, but Cass had dealt with many spouses of fellow officers on the job, and none of them seemed to like her much. Just Shannon with her wacky sense of humor and adorable, troublemaking twins.
So why was Shannon so keen on setting Cass up for a love connection?
A question that still plagued her, but Cass knew better than to bring up the subject. Lately, Shannon had been laying off, so Cass said nothing about being dateless. Or about how she’d started to feel as if she might actually be missing out on a part of life. Loneliness could be a real bitch.
As Cass pulled into her driveway, she tried to forget about the path her dating life hadn’t taken and focused instead of what she needed to get done on her days off. She worked a four-on, two-off rotation with her partner. So she had one more day until she went back to work.
And that laundry wasn’t going to do itself.
***
Seven hours later, she arrived at Jed and Shannon’s wearing a nice pair of jeans, a warm navy sweater, and her favorite boots. She parked in the back, per Jed’s orders, and raised her hand to knock on the door, startled to hear several people inside, along with music and laughter.
That sounded like a party.
Oh, hell no. Time to go.
As she turned, the door opened.
“No, you don’t. Get your ass in here.” Faster than should be humanly possible, Jed grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around. He pulled her inside and shut the door behind her. Then he shifted places with her, blocking her from exiting.
“You asshole,” she swore in a low voice, conscious of the twins, who always seemed to appear out of thin air. “What the hell is this?”
Noise from several adults, alternative rock music, and children’s laughter promised a cacophony of trouble.
Cass hated crowds, parties, and, according to her father, fun.
“Not my idea.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Shannon told me nothing until about an hour before she forced me to change into ‘company clothes.’” He grimaced and plucked at his button-down shirt.
“And you couldn’t text me?”
“She hid my phone.”
That did sound like something Shannon might do. “Oh, come on.” Cass took a look around at the clean kitchen, decorated dining space, and mingling adults. “Your house is never this clean. Not one pair of shoes for anyone to trip over in the doorway, and you didn’t notice until she told you to expect company an hour ago?”
“It’s cleaning day.” He groaned. “I know. I swear, though, I had no idea. And I’m a little concerned. Shannon really wanted you at this party. I hope she’s not—”
“Cass! There you are.” Shannon shot Jed a death glare and put on a wide smile for Cass. Despite Shannon’s petite stature, beauty, and dainty appearance, the woman had a death grip when she wanted something. The hold she had on Cass’s forearm actually hurt.
Cass shoved the six-pack she’d brought at Jed and reluctantly followed—was dragged by—Shannon into the crowded living room. “What the hell—”
“Quiet, you.” Shannon pulled her toward a tall, handsome guy who looked familiar.
“Hey, Carmichael. What’s up?” the man asked, his smile widening as he looked her over.
Josh Newcastle. The new guy. Her groan turned into a cough when Shannon elbowed her. “Sorry, Newcastle. Something in my throat. Ah, not much going on with me. Great party, Shannon,” Cass said with feigned enthusiasm.
“Isn’t it?” Shannon chirped. “So, you two know each other from work, I take it?”
Newcastle nodded with enthusiasm. “I started last week. Transferred from Spokane.”
“I love Spokane.” Shannon smiled.
Cass stood there, dying for a beer and pretending to be unaware of Newcastle stripping her naked with his gaze while Shannon and he chatted like besties. Over her shoulder, she spotted Jed fast approaching with a beer in each hand. He mouthed, Hold on, I’m coming, or something to that effect.
But just as he neared, Shannon cut him off by taking the beer meant for Cass. “Oh, thanks, honey. I was just coming to get you. Cass, can you and Josh talk while I take care of something?”
“Er, ah…”
“Sure,” Josh said, beaming.
Shannon yanked Jed with her, leaving Cass at the mercy of Officer My Eyes Are Up Here.
“I hear you’re single.” Josh sipped from his drink. “Me too. We should go out some time.”
Who? Me or my breasts? Cass sighed, waiting for him to make eye contact.
It promised to be a long, long night.
Chapter 2
Monday, Third Shift, 21:30
“Cass, I’m sorry,” Jed said for the fifth time that evening. “I swear. I had no idea Shannon had plans for you.”
“First Newcastle, then Handleman? Seriously? What did I ever do to Shannon to make her hate me so much?”
“She was taken in by a pretty face and a great body.”
She blinked at him, surprised to hear those words coming from her partner.
His cheeks pinkened. “Her words, not mine.” He cringed. “I think Newcastle looks like a gecko, and Handleman should be named handlebars for that tire around his waist. He barely fits in his uniform. But what do I know?”
“Not romance, that’s for sure,” she muttered as he pulled up to a house that could use some maintenance. The streetlight overhead showed it needed a new coat of paint, a screen door that closed properly, and maybe a car with actual wheels in the cracked driveway.
She got out with Jed and waited while he knocked. Next door, a woman could be heard shouting at a man for stepping out on her with her sister. So, not much had changed since the last time they’d swung by just a few weeks ago.
“Not my fault,” Jed repeated, adding, “But I guess maybe I owe you one. For Shannon’s sake.”
“Owe me one? More like your soul for not breaking Newcastle’s jaw. He wouldn’t stop staring at my boobs.”
“Gross.”
“What? They’re nice. But not for him to be looking at.”
“Still gross. Stop talking.”
She grinned. She and Jed could talk about anything. Except sex. They both drew the line at hearing about the more intimate details of their private lives. Jed considered her a sister, and she liked him and Shannon too much to wonder about what they did in their personal time. Still, grossing him out was always a pleasure.
“Since you owe me, you take point.”
He sighed. “Fine. It’s my turn anyway since you talked last time.”
As one, they put on their game faces and waited to deal with Mrs. Cleary. The older woman was exceedingly polite, followed the rules, and called them at least once a month. She seemed to follow a pattern of complaint, whereby she had something to report about the latest man in her twenty-two-year-old granddaughter’s life.
The last time Cass and Jed had been by, they’d found nothing to support a case of domestic violence, when said abuser was busy with his tongue down the alleged victim’s throat and the victim had her limbs wound around him like a constrictor about to enjoy a meal. Upon questioning the pair, Mandy and her boyfriend had been surprised and amused.
Horny, yes. Violent, no.
Cass always paid strict attention to any such accusation, but in Mrs. Cleary’s case, the woman honestly just didn’t like the men her granddaughter had been dating. Though at the rate Mandy Cleary seemed to be going through boyfriends, the odds were she’d end up with at least one rotten apple and find herself in real trouble.
Still, Cass and Jed had a duty to serve. And serve they did because Cass wanted to think if she were the one calling in a problem, she’d be treated with respect and taken seriously.
The elderly woman who opened the door smelled like day-old doughnuts and whiskey. Her rheumy brown eyes looked out from a wrinkled face that had seen too much sun and smoke, her skin a permanent yellowed-white, like a wall tarred with nicotine. But she was always sweet, slightly stooped over, and soft-spoken. Until she coughed and sounded on death’s door.
“Hello, Officers. Thanks so much for coming.”
Jed and Cas nodded, and Jed said, “Sure thing, Mrs. Cleary. What can we help you with?”
While Jed spoke, Cass looked for evidence of trouble but didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary.
“Please, come inside.” The elderly woman motioned for them to enter. “It’s so cold out.”
They followed her into the foyer and shut the door behind them.
The house smelled stale, like watered-down depression, and Cass wanted nothing more than to leave. Instead, she stood alert, letting Jed figure out what the heck was really going on while she scanned for danger.
“Coffee?” Mrs. Cleary offered.
“No, thank you,” Jed declined. “Mrs. Cleary, you told dispatch a male suspect broke in then left in a hurry. Do you know where he went? In what direction?”
“Sorry, no.” She sighed.
“Can you tell us what’s missing?”
“My granddaughter, for one. Mandy left with the boy when I got on the phone. But I don’t know that anything else is missing exactly.”
Cass could almost feel Jed biting back a sigh.
“Oh?” He waited with extreme patience.
Looking at him, one would never think Jed had a heart. He looked like a cross between a modern-day Viking and the Terminator. A big, muscular white guy with a face carved from granite and a laser-like focus that saw everything, Jed dispensed justice fairly. With so many problems lately between the police and civilians, Jed was one officer who strove to make a difference, working diligently to earn people’s trust.
Community projects, constant communication training, and a need to serve the people as a whole had made him someone Cass respected more than she could say. That they both had the same outlook on life and sense of humor helped them remain a solid unit as well. So when he bit his lip, she knew he found Mrs. Cleary both amusing and tiring. But he would put the older woman’s needs first because that’s what Jed did.
“Well, I can’t say for sure anything’s missing,” Mrs. Cleary corrected herself and frowned. “But he’s a felon. I’m sure of it.”
Jed scratched his temple. “He is? We looked him up last time. I thought Mandy was dating a”—he paused to glance at the notebook he took out of his pocket—“Larry Skoll. He’s got a few misdemeanors but nothing serious.”
“No. Larry’s gone. That was a while ago.”
Cass and Jed had visited three weeks ago to hear about Larry.
“I’m worried.” The sweet older woman’s expression grew stern. “If he doesn’t have a record, he should. He breaks into my house all the time.”
Jed’s eyes narrowed. “Have you reported him before for that?”
A break-in was something they could investigate.
“I tried, but I was told that if he’s using a key, it’s not breaking and entering. Leastwise, that’s what the other officers told me last Thursday.”
Cass and Jed exchanged a glance before Jed said, “We want to help. Where did he get the key? Did he steal it?”
“Mandy gave it to him.” Mrs. Cleary huffed. “Girl’s addicted to Dick.”
“I—.” Jed blinked. “What’s that?”
Sweet little old Mrs. Cleary answered, “My little one likes Dick. More like Dick the weasel. He’s a limp, lame Dick, you ask me. I don’t like that boy.”
Cass and Jed gaped, and Cass didn’t think she’d ever seen Jed turn so red.
Mrs. Clearly studied Jed and blinked. “Oh my. I don’t think that came out right. Dick is short for Dickerson. Owen Dickerson, who goes by Dick. So when I said Mandy’s addicted to Dick, I meant…” She flushed. “My goodness. That really came out wrong.”
Cass did her best not to grin because if she started, she didn’t think she’d stop laughing.
Jed cleared his throat. “We’d like to help you, Mrs. Cleary, but unless Owen Dickerson has broken in and stolen something or you have evidence a crime has been committed, there’s not much we can do besides run him for priors.”
“Well, okay. But I’m going to keep my eye on him.”
“On that limp Dick,” Cass murmured, her gaze on Jed.
Like a champ, he coughed to cover his laughter. “Great. Well, you have a nice day, Mrs. Cleary.”
“I will. Thank you.”
They left in silence and were a minute down the road, continuing along patrol, when they both started laughing hysterically.
“Addicted to limp Dick.” Jed guffawed. “Jesus.”
“I’m using that at some point.” Cass paused. “Just not around Newcastle.”
“Good call.” Jed wiped his eyes. “Mrs. Cleary is now my favorite stop. Hands down.”
Cass snickered. “Mandy Cleary is addicted to weasel Dick. News at eleven.”
Jed chuckled.
They moved on to a corner store robbery to take statements, then a motor vehicle accident, attended by EMTs from Station 44. Not spotting Revere, not that she’d been looking for him, Cass took a few witness statements and waited with Jed to get that Breathalyzer on the drunk driver of the Nissan.
The rest of the shift passed without incident, shockingly enough. By 04:30, she was ready to head home.
“Hey, Cass, hold on.” Jed stopped her by her car.
“Yeah?”
“I really am sorry about Saturday night. I’ll talk to Shannon.” He paused. “Though it was pretty funny watching you deal with Handleman and Newcastle. You scared them, partner. I swear I heard Newcastle whimpering after you left.”
She grinned. “Mean is how I roll.”
They bumped fists.
“I think she’s all over you about dating because she’s afraid you’re going to ditch her.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “It’s something she said last week. I could be wrong, but I think maybe she’s worried you’ll stop coming out with us because you think you’re a third wheel.”
“Ha. I’ll stop coming out with you if you keep spending the night making out when I’m trying to have a conversation.”
“That was her fault, not mine,” he protested. “I’m weak.”
“A weak dick,” she said with a big grin.
He shook his head. “Mrs. Cleary has a potty mouth.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to tell Shannon.”
They left, and Cass arrived home at five. After entering and locking up behind her, she looked around her empty house. Jed would return home and snuggle with Shannon after checking in on the twins. He’d sleep in then spend time with his wife before picking up his kids and bonding with the little demons—as he lovingly referred to them—until he went back on shift at 19:30.
Cass would sleep in until noon. Alone. Wake up. Alone. Spend her day at the gym or help at the local community center. Eat dinner. Alone. Then be back on shift with Jed.
What a boring life.
She frowned. That sounded suspiciously like her father in her head, his therapist hat on.
Which made her remember the missed call on her phone. She scrolled through her messages and heard her father’s invitation to lunch. Since she hadn’t seen her parents in over a week, she knew she was due for some family time. And though she didn’t like lectures, she loved her parents, so she texted her father a yes and asked for details then set her phone aside.
She needed some sleep. Dealing with her parents not at her best would be like going into a gunfight with a rubber chicken. Amusing until the bullets found their target.
Seven hours later, she’d rested, showered, and dressed. After putting everything in its place, her home neat as a pin and just the way she liked it, she met her parents at a popular downtown restaurant that served an amazing Italian-only lunch. They’d gotten lucky, as getting a place to sit was more a matter of timing than planning.
She spotted her mother gesticulating wildly, her normally stern face lit up as she said something to her husband. The pair looked like a matched set. Dr. Jenny Carmichael, cardiologist, had a firm yet pleasant bedside manner reflected in her light-brown eyes. Despite a pale complexion due to spending so much time in the hospital treating patients, Jenny appeared in good health. Slender, of average height, but brimming with vitality, Jenny Carmichael inspired confidence in others.
Just like her husband, Dr. Aaron Carmichael, a psychologist who specialized in child and family therapy. He was handsome and smart, a trim academic with a tall, lean build heading into his sixties. He always listened with intensity. When talking with him, a person felt as if no one and nothing existed but them in that moment. Cass got her looks from him but her drive from her mother. Thank God. Aaron Carmichael drove Cass crazy with his laid-back manner and easy smile. She loved him, but honestly, she had no idea how her mother could handle a man who smiled during a crisis.
Yet the pair fit.
Spotting her, her father must have said something to her mother because Jenny waved and smiled.
Cass gave each of her parents a kiss on the cheek before sitting down with them. The server arrived immediately with a menu, left to get her beverage, and returned post haste to take her order.
Obviously schooled by her mother to hurry the hell up. Jenny only had so much time before she needed to be back at the hospital.
“Nice job, Mom. You already have our server scurrying to obey your commands.”
Her mother huffed. “It’s all about efficiency, my dear.”
Cass grinned. “Exactly.”
Her father sighed. “Honestly, you two. Sit back and relax. Jenny, you’re going to give yourself an ulcer if you don’t slow down.”
The familiar banter soothed Cass, and she relaxed into her chair as they teased each other about working harder and working smarter. Then they turned to her.
“So, how are things at work? How’s Jed?”
Her parents loved her partner, especially because he had a stable, loving homelife with Shannon and the twins. A high mark of praise from her father, considering a police officer’s tough profession.
“Good. All good.” She paused and, frowning, blurted, “Except Shannon tried setting me up with a new guy I work with. And that on top of matchmaking at a party they tricked me into going to. I mean, I work with the guy. No way I can date him and not have that blow back in my face.” Not that she would.
Her mother nodded. “Exactly. Never muddy the drinking water, I say.”
The word mud made Mack Revere’s face pop into her mind’s eye, and Cass fixated on him despite herself. She still considered that she’d gotten the best of him the other day and smiled. “But on a good note, we would have won our soccer game Saturday if those cheating firefighters hadn’t gotten us all booted from the game. They started a mud fight.”
Her parents laughed.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t be there,” her dad said. “Your mother was in surgery, and I had an emergency with a client. He’s fine, but he needed my help right away.”
She waved away his apology. “No biggie. You guys can come to the next one. If we have it. Looks like it’s going to snow sooner than they keep predicting. I can taste it in the air.”
“You know it.” Her mother paused to smile up at their server, who delivered their food.
Cass blinked and waited until she left to say, “You must have promised one heck of a tip. I just ordered, and my food is already here.”
“The server’s mother is at Swedish, and I know her doctor. We chatted a bit before we sat down.” Jenny was a top cardiologist at Swedish First Hill Campus, a premier hospital on Broadway downtown.
Aaron grinned. “Your mother gets stuff done. She’s the queen of networking.”
“No kidding.”
Cass nibbled on the mouthwatering focaccia at the table, loving the flavorful bread she dipped in spiced olive oil. She did her best not to dive into her plate and smother herself in the delectable pappardelle Bolognese, her absolute favorite. Since she’d been raised to have manners, she forced herself to eat slowly.
At home she’d have stuffed her face full. Because there’d have been no one there to see.
Her mother winked at her. “You’re just like me, honey. I see great things in your future.”
Cass swallowed before saying, “Thanks.”
They ate for a while, talking about the uptick in heart patients and anxiety in teens. She filled them in on Mrs. Cleary’s recent visit, inciting laughter.
Her mother left to use the restroom.
And then, as expected, her father gave Cass a wide smile and said, “You look good. You sound like everything is going well.” Pause. “But I worry about you.”
She mentally groaned but said nothing, letting her silence do the talking.
“Honey, you have no social life outside work. That’s not healthy.”
“Dad, please. I’m fine.”
“Jed’s fine. Your sergeant is fine. Your captain is fine. They have healthy relationships outside work. Being a police officer is stressful. You need something to release all that tension or you’ll have problems.”
Alcohol, drugs, abusive relationships. She’d been told this time and time again by both her father and the many lectures the officers received from the station’s positive reinforcement expert, a perky woman who insisted talking about problems would promote a stable and healthy homelife. The new statewide program was supposed to help first responders with an outreach, a place to go when they needed help.
But Cass preferred to keep her problems private. Something her oversharing father didn’t understand.
“You are so like your mother,” he said with a sigh when she continued to just stare at him.
“Dad, I’m not your patient. I’m your daughter.” She’d had this conversation so many times she should need therapy. “I’m fine.”
“What do you do for fun?”
“I go to the gym.”
“Okay, you exercise your body. What about your mind?”
“I do crossword puzzles and word searches.” And I sound like I’m ninety, but I like word puzzles.
Her dad coughed, and she mentally dared him to once again compare her to Great-Aunt Martha. Fortunately for him, he asked, “What about social interaction?”
“I hang out with Jed and Shannon. Sometimes Bob.”
“Who’s Bob?”
She flushed. “He’s a janitor at the gym. He’s a nice guy.” And she hadn’t seen him lately. Hmm. He might have moved, now that she thought about it.
“I’m just curious. How old is he? Someone you’d consider a potential boyfriend?”
“Dad.”
Aaron just waited.
“Bob’s sixty-nine. But he’s in great shape. He’s a retired Marine who still works out and does the janitorial stuff at the gym. He tells funny stories.”
“So not a romantic connection then?”
“No way.”
He sighed. “Do you realize your only social outlets are Jed, the man you see at work all day, and his wife?”
“And kids,” she muttered.
“In addition to an older man at the gym, the only other consistent place you go when not on duty? I love you, Cass. But I see problems for you if you don’t get out and let loose a little. It’s not bad to be focused on your job. Not at all. But you need balance.”
“Oh look, there’s Mom.”
Her mother finally returned to the table. She leaned down to kiss Aaron and picked up her purse. “Sorry, I have to get back. Cass, next time you’re off, let’s do dinner at the house. And don’t forget to leave our server a big tip, Aaron.” She waved goodbye and darted out the door.
Cass tried to get money out of her wallet stuffed in her backpack, but her father insisted on paying. She didn’t mind, but she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t take care of herself. She made a decent paycheck and had little overhead thanks to an inheritance years ago from Great-Aunt Martha. She was successful, so why was her father so bent on making sure she had a life?
Maybe because you don’t?
She shoved the thought away and waited for her father to take care of the bill. Once outside, she walked him to his car.
“What’s on your agenda today?” he asked.
“I thought I’d see a movie, actually.”
Her dad brightened. “That’s great. Which one?”
She mentioned an action flick she’d been wanting to see. With the cold outside, she wouldn’t mind being indoors. “Then after that, I’ll probably hit the gym and grab a quick dinner. Then it’s back to work. I’m off Friday and Saturday this week if you guys want to do dinner.”
“I’ll check with your mother, but I’m leaning toward Friday. We’ll text you details. But if plans come up that interfere with dinner, you let me know.”
“Plans?”
He grinned. “If some hunk of a man sweeps you off your feet into a date, we’ll reschedule.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sure, Dad. In fact, I do meet a lot of people. Maybe one of the hunks behind bars will sing me into a yes. Then you could have a felon for a son-in-law.”
Her father ignored her sarcasm. “As long as he treats you right, I’ll be happy to invite him to family get-togethers.”
“Argh. Go scramble some kid’s brain while I get back to work keeping the streets safe.”
“I’m proud of you, honey. You do good work.” He hugged her but had to get the last word in. “Now go do good work with someone you can bring home to your sad, sorry folks.”
He raced away with a laugh, and she watched him go, wondering why she felt more depressed than uplifted after her favorite food with the people she loved.