Turkey Trouble (Mayet Justice)

Minka

MINKA

“ H ey? Chief?” Aubree skids on the tiles of the George Stanley, her shoulder slamming into mine because she moves too fast, and I… well, I don’t move at all. A giggle of embarrassment rolls from her chest. But… not. Because she’s Aubree Emeri, and I’m not sure she is ever truly embarrassed about how she conducts herself.

“Sorry!” She lobs her files against my chest, forcing me to hold them or let them fall to the floor, then she rubs my shoulder, soothing strokes of her palms right over the scarring that still mars my body from a reconstructive surgery earlier this year. She digs her fingers into the muscle, dragging her nails over my old stitch marks.

It should be painful. But somehow, she makes it physical bliss.

A feat, considering I prefer not to be touched at all.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Little bit. Why are you running around? This is a morgue, Doctor Emeri. Not a playground for untrained youth.”

She rolls her bright blue eyes in my peripherals, marking my skin with her nails because of how deeply she pushes in. And still… no pain. “When you mention untrained youth, I know you mean Cato. Not me.”

“What do you want?” I pull away and hand her files back. “And why were you running?” But then it hits me. An obvious realization. “New DB?” We’re medical examiners, after all. And today is, statistically and historically, when dead bodies spike and folks fill our fridges downstairs. “Where is it? Are Archer and Fletch running it?”

“No.” She grabs my arm and forces me around, charging toward my office door and releasing me only when we’re on the other side of the glass. “I talked to Fletch just a few minutes ago. He said they’re clocking off in an hour. They’re finishing their paperwork and not accepting new cases between now and dinner.”

“They don’t really get to make that choice. Homicide detectives take orders. They don’t order dead people not to die.”

“You speak in riddles,” she snickers, crossing my office on dancing feet. “If they’re dead people, then they’re already dead.” She plops into my visitor chair, undignified and yet unrevealing, despite her miniskirt and knee-high socks. She wears too little, considering her vocation of choice, but she wraps her body in a sexy white lab coat between the hours of whenever the hell we wake up till whenever we can crawl into bed at night . Fashion is how the clever doctor expresses herself. Lab coats are how she protects herself. “And since they’re already dead?—”

“Moving on. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She flashes a wicked grin, her evilness rolling all the way up to her eyes. “But the mayor called.”

I drop into my chair and slump back, almost melting to the floor if not for the last scrap of dignity and self-respect I possess. “I have no desire to speak to that man. I know you told him I was busy.”

“It’s Thanksgiving!” She practically sings her words. “This is the holiday for being with our families.”

“He’s not my family! He’s a thief and a liar, and I met him only after I killed the last sitting mayor. My family is dead, and my husband is coming home to me in an hour. We’re ordering subs, drinking wine, and having lots and lots of sex. For that,” I smirk. “I am thankful.”

“That’s going to be hella awkward when the mayor turns up for dinner.”

“He’s not coming to dinner! He has his own family. He has a wife and daughters and grandchildren and pets and probably a plant or two. Those are the sorry sonsabitches who have to spend today with him. Not me.”

“Cato wants a family thing.”

“Great! Cato can walk his ass down to the bar and spend the holiday with his big brother. This leaves my apartment empty and, coincidentally, my sex and subs plan lives on.”

“Felix threatened to sleep on your couch.”

For fuck’s sake ! “Felix is busy on the East Coast. This is his first Thanksgiving with Debbie. I’m certain he’ll stay over there and probably try out the sex and sub thing, just like us.”

She smirks, taunting, yet sympathetic. “My mom asked for you to join us for Thanksgiving.”

“No.”

“Dinner’s at seven.”

“No!”

“Eli and Curtis will be there,” she giggles. “Their wedding is coming up, and you’ve been invited, so really…” She scrunches her nose. “It would be best if you met the groom.”

“I’ve met the groom! He’s tall and handsome and super gay. We’re pals, Aubree.” Frustrated, I bring my hands up and smother myself to death. I wish . “We don’t need to meet again.”

“You haven’t met the other groom. And you still need to meet my sisters. Katie is like…” She snorts. “If Eli is super gay for dudes, then Katie is suuuper hoe-tastic for dudes, too. She’s not like me.”

“A hippie flower hugging always-happy freak?”

My second in charge only shrugs, unoffended by my intolerance. “She’s loud and cute and likes to party and has no problem sharing her bed with random, handsome men.” But then she quips, “Kinda like you.”

Burn . “One time. And I married him. Go to family dinner, send your mother my regards. Assure her I’m happily spending the holidays with my family.”

“You said sex and subs!”

“Yes. My husband, and good food, are my family. Cato knows to clear out. Tim is busy running the bar tonight. You’ll be with your family. Felix will get laid on the East Coast. Micah, too, since Tiia is healing up nicely. Did I miss anyone?”

“Fletch.” Like she somehow proves a point, she sits back and broadens her shoulders. “You forgot poor, sweet Charlie Fletcher. His parents are tools, his ex-wife is a whore, and his best friend will be, according to you, too busy to spend time with him on this holiday. The first since Jada’s spiral, might I remind you.”

“So you take Fletch to meet your family,” I faux-smile. “Introduce him to the grooms. Let Mia be the star of the show. Hell, introduce Fletch to your hoe sister. They can be each other’s gift this year.”

Her nose wrinkles. Because maybe it’s all fun and games to know her sister has casual sex sometimes. But it’s something else entirely to consider that casual sex to be with someone she knows and cares about.

“You forgot Fifi.” She firms her lips. Another imaginary point for her, I suppose. “Her mother is a dead narcissist. Her father is dead. She doesn’t even have Mia to distract her, and now she has that new fandangled job. It’s only been a couple of weeks, so it’s not like she’s made friends yet.” Sitting forward, she presses her hands together dramatically. “Won’t you think of Fifi?”

“Take Fifi to family dinner. Take Fletch. Grab Hoe Katie. Toss them all in a room and see what happens.” I open my desk drawer and take out my buzzing phone, spying Archer Malone’s name flashing for attention. But I look to Aubree first. “Problems solved, and I still get laid. I’m looking forward to my subs. I want to get semi-drunk, and I choose to express my thanks in bed. With Archer and no one else. Now go.” I wave her off in an entirely dismissive, asshole way. So of course, her eyes narrow to slits. “I have to take this personal call.”

She stands, slow and evil-like. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Mayet. This is a family holiday, and you’re choosing to smite it all in the name of sex. Whatever punishment is coming for you, you asked?—”

“Uh-huh. Okay.” I swipe to answer and bring the phone to my ear. “You better not be calling to tell me you’ve caught a case.”

Archer’s chuckle is sultry and sexy. But best of all, the squeak of his desk chair tells me he’s still at the station. If he had a case, he’d be in the car. “Good afternoon, Chief Mayet. It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yours, too.” I smile and wave as Aubree stalks out of my office, the door swinging closed and her curvy backside plopping into her chair on the other side of the glass. “Aubree’s cranky at me.”

“Were you mean to her?” He lowers his voice, an almost admonishing tone. “You have to really try to piss her off. She’s chronically happy, so if you’ve upset her, I feel it’s because you were being especially unkind.”

“I wasn’t being unkind! I declined a Thanksgiving dinner with the whole hippie clan, and I’m saying no to Justin and his crazies, too. And since we’re on the topic, I choose not to be responsible for Cato’s, Tim’s, Fletch’s, or Fifi’s Thanksgiving happiness, either. This is our first holiday together, so I’m choosing us .”

“Which is a perfectly reasonable choice to make. Wanna eat first, then fuck, or…?”

“Order our food,” I whisper and grin. Though outside my office, Aubree scowls over her shoulder. “Fuck while we wait for the delivery guy. Then we can eat. Then we can go to bed again.” I plaster the phone to my ear. “I think we can manage a few, since it’s not infusion night and Cato won’t be at the apartment.”

“And you haven’t talked to Felix, right?”

“Hell no. His missed calls are stacking up, but I send him to voicemail every time.”

“Good girl. I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah, because I’m devastated about not talking to him. What time are you leaving work?”

“Five thirty, right after Lieutenant Fabian releases us from our meeting. You?”

“Five.” I cross one leg over the other and glance down at the hem of my white coat. “I’m not accepting calls from anyone else. Fake-Fifi is taking messages and I’ve autopsied six DBs today, so I’m calling it. I did my fair share.”

“Six is a lot. More than usual?”

“On par for Thanksgiving, given the statistics. Night shift will take over where we leave off. Besides, half of my staff is already gone, so unless an order comes from a judge personally, I’m not touching another body.”

“Except your own,” he murmurs. “Since you’ll have a thirty-minute head start, I expect you to be in our room, Minnnka. Waiting for me. Touching.”

“You’re being bossy.”

“I bought you a gift,” he teases. “It’s at the foot of our bed. Gold box. Red ribbon. Open it before I get home, then wait for me. Legs open, preferably.”

“It’s not my birthday yet.” I steal a look to my left, though I refuse to make eye contact with the techs who walk past my office. “I didn’t get you a gift.”

“Consider it a gift for us both. Be ready for me.”

“Sure.” I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and enjoy the pulse beating between my legs. It doesn’t take a genius to know I’m going to enjoy my night with a man who enjoys me, most of all. “Don’t be late, okay? I want to make the most of our evening.”

“I’ll run.” He twists on his chair, his stubble brushing the phone, when a shouted Malone echoes across his bullpen. So he stands, the squeak of his chair telegraphing his moves. “That’s my briefing. See you in an hour.”

“Okay.” I release my lip and smile. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He pulls the phone from his ear and kills our call, so I’m left sitting in the silence of a morgue. We’re working on a skeleton crew, despite the peak traffic rolling through our doors over the last twenty-four hours. Because unless the dead are part of a homicide investigation, the living and their families are more important.

Which is primarily Aubree’s argument, obviously.

Sighing, I stand and slip my phone into my lab coat pocket, then I start toward my door. Though, of course, Aubree spins in her chair and watches me make the walk.

She’s smug. While I’m… well, I’m not giving in on my stance about tonight.

But I suppose I could be kinder about it all.

Dragging the door open, I lean against the glass and meet her eyes. “I hope you enjoy dinner with your family. And I know the mayor will love having his daughters in town. I’m confident Cato will be fine with Tim, and I’m certain Fletch will take Mia to the bar for dinner. Because that’s what we do every other night.”

“I’m not trying to get between you and sex.” She snags a sucker from her top desk drawer—coincidentally, the same suckers I keep in my desk, which means I have another thief in my midst. Tearing the wrapper open, she plops the red, heart-shaped candy on her tongue and talks around the stick. “I’m just saying family is family, and don’t be surprised if your plans don’t go the way you want them to.”

“Are you saying you intend to knock on my door and interrupt the plans I’ve made?”

She shakes her head, lifting her chin in defiance. “Not unless you give me express permission to do so. In which case, I’m bailing on Casa Emeri and crashing at yours.” She stops and grins. “Do I have express permission?”

“No.”

Her eyes darken and her lips pop into a pout. “Fine.”

“So if you’re not knocking on my door, and Cato agreed to not be home tonight, and Felix is on the other side of the country…” I tilt my head. “I think my plans will remain intact.”

“It would be a disservice for me not to warn you.”

“Warn me of what?” I bring my hand up and scrub my face. “There’s nothing to warn me of! Archer is leaving the station in an hour. You and I are walking out in half that. Doctor Patten will arrive any minute now and take over for the night shift. Tim isn’t coming to my apartment: he’s running the bar. My biggest threat is Fletch and Fifi, since they don’t actually have families to spend the holiday with and now that I’m saying that out loud, guilt makes my stomach hurt. Everyone else has somewhere else and someone else to be with.”

“You completely disregard the fact that we’re family.” She pulls the sucker from between her lips and searches my eyes. “I have my mom and dad and siblings, and Cato has his brothers, and the mayor has his kids. Fletch has Mia. And Fifi… might have a cat, maybe. I should get her a cat,” she decides. “Everyone has someone, but you forget that we , together, make a family too.”

“We’re friends! Some of us are colleagues. That’s not cutting up a turkey family.”

She tsks in the back of her throat. “This is your first Thanksgiving in Copeland, so I’ll forgive your hurtful words. But next year, I expect a better attitude from my best friend in the whole wide world.”

The elevator dings, twenty feet from where I stand, the light above announcing its arrival. Then Doctor Patten steps out, fresh faced, rosy-cheeked and, no doubt, with a belly full of turkey.

“Thank God,” I groan. “The cavalry is here.”

Patten stops on the threshold of the elevator, eyeing us across the ninth floor. “What? Mass casualty event? Serial killer? More motor vehicle mayhem?”

“Nothing happened.” I drop my hands into my pockets as she leaves the steel threshold and moves our way. “Business as usual, if not somewhat more accelerated.”

“Well, statistically, today is the day more people turn up dead.”

“Right! That’s what I said. As soon as you take the wheel, I’m leaving.” I back up into my office and let the door swing shut, but Patten and Aubree follow, like I knew they would. “Rounds are complete,” I tell my night-shift counterpart. “We have seven DBs stacked up on the second floor. Delegate those to your staff once your shift officially begins. You’re down one tech; they called in earlier and cited a stomach bug.”

“Lou?” Patten takes the visitor chair, folding her legs and bouncing her foot. “She looked a little green when we left this morning, so I’m not surprised.”

“Sucky day to not feel well.” Aubree plops onto the leather couch pushed up against the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. “I’d prefer turkey and stuffing over vomiting and diarrhea.”

“Pretty sure everyone would prefer the turkey and stuffing,” I drawl. “And yes,” I bring my eyes to Patten. “Lou is the tech who is out. You can probably expect a busy night, considering the booze will start flowing soon, the snow is coming down, and people are, generally, stupid. I’ll pick up the baton when I get back tomorrow morning. Pack them up, bag, tag, document, then pass the reports over when I arrive. I’ll clear out as many as I can before end of shift.”

“This is why we work.” Patten bounces her foot. Too happy, considering the shit night she has ahead of her. “Spending the evening with your family, Chief?”

“See!” Aubree practically jumps onto the couch, Tom Cruise on Oprah style. “That’s what I’m saying! Thanksgiving is for family. Our wonderful Chief Mayet is choosing takeout and early to bed.”

“Oh?” Concerned, Patten brings her focus to me. “No invites, Chief? How rude of me to not even consider that you’re new to the city. My family is still celebrating if you’d like an introduct?—”

“For the love of meatball subs.” I poke my own eyes. “No. I don’t need more invitations. I have more than I can handle already, and enough emotional manipulation to last me a lifetime. I’m spending the evening with my husband. He’s my family, so we’re having a meal and choosing us for a night. We so rarely get to do that. Tomorrow, we’ll be surrounded by family again. We’re overflowing with them, so everything is fine, no more introductions necessary, and I swear to God, if the mayor thinks he can pout about this, I’m going to end up in prison.”

The phone rings on my desk, a trilling summons that sets my stomach on fire. So I reach out and tap the speaker button to answer. “Yeah?”

“Chief Mayet?” Callen announces. “Mayor Lawrence is on line three for you.”

“That’s my sign to leave.” Patten jumps from her seat, sniggering and bolting toward the door. “Happy Thanksgiving, Chief! I’ll do my job and save you all the best cases for tomorrow.”

I close my eyes and consider simply not accepting the call. I could have Callen tell him I’ve left the office already. She could even tell him I caught a diarrhea bug from my night shift, and trust me , it’s best I stay home tonight instead of shattering the porcelain of his guest bathroom.

“Take the call,” Aubree giggles. “Or he’ll be at your front door within the hour.”

“For fuck’s sake.” I kill my connection with Callen and hit line three instead. “Mayor Lawrence.”

“You’re still at the office, Chief.” He tsks under his breath. “It’s a holiday, and it’s almost five.”

“Literally doing the job you pay me for. Is anyone dead in front of you right now?”

He hesitates, before answering, “No…”

“Great! So this conversation is over. Enjoy your family thing tonight while you still have a life to live. I’ll talk to you tomorrow sometime, at which point, we can continue our discussion on the crimes you’ve committed against this office. Your insistence on infiltrating my life and forcing this relationship will be your eventual undoing.”

“Have I ever told you how your kind words comfort my heart, Chief? So much affection,” he teases. “So much adoration. We’re serving up around seven. We’ll wait for you to arrive.”

“Don’t. You’ll be sorely disappointed when eight o’clock arrives and I’m still not there. I intend to be in bed by then, so I sincerely wish you a happy evening with the people who are related to you by blood or law. Those are the poor souls obligated to tolerate your incessant haranguing. Fortunately for me, I lack both ties. Thus, excusing me from family dinner.”

“Mayet…”

“I have plans! Goodnight, Justin.” I pick up my phone, then drop it back into the cradle to end our call. Then I look to a pale-faced Aubree and smile. “He’ll get over it. Now get up and grab your bag. The longer we stay, the more chances people will have to call and annoy me.”

“It’s the happiest time of the year. You’re supposed to want to spend time with people.”

“I’ve spent countless Thanksgivings alone.” I stride to the rack by the door and switch my white coat for the one I wear outside. The second is thin and ratty and not nearly warm enough for a Copeland winter. But it’s mine and I like it, so it’s the one I wear. “I’m a creature of habit, Doctor Emeri. I enjoy quiet nights. Being out and with people and not getting home till late is draining to me. So if you care about my happiness at all, you’d believe me when I say I’m excited for my plans to be with Archer and no one else.”

She slips through my office door and snatches her purse from beneath her desk. “I can support your introverted endeavors, while also informing you that other people do things differently.”

“You sure can. But once you’ve informed me, it’s time to stop nagging about it.” I step through my door and let it swing shut behind me, and while Aubree collects her things and logs her computer out, I move to the elevator and slap the call button. “If you need a ride to your parents tonight, just take a George Stanley car.”

Stunned, she glances up and grins. “Really?”

“It’s way too cold to be waiting for busses. It would take you an hour on public transport, for what only takes fifteen minutes in a car. Screw that.”

“Thanks!” She snags a key from her desk and slides her finger through the key ring. Then she starts running when the elevator doors open at my back. “I appreciate you allowing this. I know they’re only for work use, but?—”

“I consider you freezing to death at a bus stop a valid reason for taking a car. If I have to come back here tomorrow and process a dozen DBs, I’d rather share the load with you.”

“You say those things—” She steps in after me and taps the G for ground floor, then the P for the parking garage. “But what you actually mean is I love you, Aubree. I value your input in my life. And something bad happening to you would devastate me .”

“Sure.” I hook my bag on the crook of my arm and smile as the doors close and the numbers take us down. “If that’s what you need to hear, write it on a card and I’ll sign it.”

“Grump.” She drops her chin and practically rests it on her chest. But I see her smile. “I love you, too.”