Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Ulysses
Isat at my desk and eyed my phone as if it had all the answers.
—Can I ask you on a date? —
I held my breath after sending the text to Finn. At least Colton had located Finn’s phone and returned it. Bruised, but still intact.
He replied immediately. —You just want to get laid. —
—Maybe. —
—There’s no maybe about it. —
Before I could answer, my phone rang. ‘Hey.” I tried to inject as much softness as I could.
“Hello, yourself. I woke up alone this morning.”
“Yeah.” I winced. “You were sleeping so peacefully—and I had this press conference to get to.” All or nothing. “Can I ask you on a third date? And fourth? How many dates do we have to count before we stop saying they’re dates?”
A long silence ensued. Then some rustling. “This is beginning to sound like…well, a long-term relationship. Except you don’t do relationships. Remember?”
“If you want to know the answer to that question, you’d better turn up to those dates. I’ll pick you up at seven. Okay?”
“I can meet you there—wherever there is.”
“Stavros’s. Reservation for seven-thirty.”
“Wow. Fancy.”
I rolled my eyes. Stavros’s Greek wasn’t the fanciest in town…but the place was a step above what we normally did—which was fast food. “Would you prefer the Italian place?”
“And have you spend double the money? No, I’m good. You know me—I’m just as happy at Fifties as anywhere else.”
“Would you prefer Fifties?” I’d grown quite fond of the place myself in my months living in Mission City.
“Stavros’s is fine. I haven’t been there in years. I’ll be ready for you to pick me up at seven. For our date.” He hung up.
I spent the next six hours fielding interviews from various news organizations across the spectrum.
British Columbia, of course. A couple from around Canada.
A few online and one from Australia because of course.
Why the hell not? I was wondering about that call when I remembered we had a recent Aussie transplant.
Whether Dean being in Mission City for just over a year had anything to do with the interest from the land down under, I had no idea.
Something to ask, the next time I saw him.
“You look spent.” Spring put another Timmie’s coffee on my desk.
“Thank you. And I’m never going to sleep tonight.”
“You’ve got your date with Finn tonight. I’m certain you’ll find a bit of insomnia will be a small price to pay.”
“How do you know about my date?”
“Because I was sitting at the desk next to you when you spoke to him. Sheesh, Boss. Get with the program.” She chuckled. “You on speaking terms with Colton again?”
“I didn’t realize we were ever not on speaking terms.” I chuckled. “He’s still mad I didn’t call. That said, one less bad guy to prosecute isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not that I wanted Gerard dead or anything.”
“Or anything.”
“But, still. Not a huge loss in the world.”
“You know his wife’s death was tragic.”
“Yep.” I clicked my pen closed.
“And Marlon’s addiction to gambling started soon after that.”
“Yep.” I closed the lid of my laptop and secured it to the docking station. I was happy to leave it here tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to retrieve it.
“And Chief was at risk of losing the family home.”
“Got all that. But a child died in the fire in February.”
She bit her lower lip.
“And millions of dollars in insurance fraud hurts everyone. And selling drugs, Spring.”
“Well—”
“And Marlon left Finn to die.” To me, that was the end of any possible sympathy. A kid dying was bad enough. Truly. The family would be scarred for the rest of their lives—even though they hadn’t done anything wrong. And poor David, ODed— another lost child.
Then leaving a fellow firefighter to die in a blaze?
Yeah, that was right up there with unforgivable sins.
“Plus, the dogs—" I swallowed. That part of the investigation was looking pretty gruesome as well. “They won’t even be able to charge all the people who bet on those fights. Scum of the Earth.”
“Yeah. How’s Yanna holding up? You believe she didn’t know what was going on?”
“She’s got a sick child at home. Yes, she’s the manager for Hearts & Paws—so the proverbial buck stops with her.
But Meyer and Selah were good at covering their tracks.
Finn only figured out the false paperwork because he knows the numbers of the streets so well.
That kind of knowledge is certainly something I don’t possess. ”
“How many dogs were saved?”
“The cops found five. Three had to be euthanized because they’d been used for fighting repeatedly.”
“Oh my God.” Spring blinked several times. “That’s horrible.”
“The other two need homes. We can run a feature on them—”
“I’ll do it. And ensure folks know Yanna and the shelter aren’t to blame. That they’ll need our help more than ever.”
I nodded as I rose. “I’ll make a donation. Finn said last night he’d put in a bit of extra time while he’s on leave. The doctor said light exercise as he gets his equilibrium back might be a good thing. He just can’t overdo it.” I put my coat on. Overdo it again.
The overnight snow had mostly melted—but my bike was done for the season. Maybe forever. Finn really doesn’t like you riding that thing. He appreciates the leather—but not the risk. “You can close up?”
She waved me off. “Have a good date. Lock him in for a solid relationship—if that’s what you both want.”
I held my wool scarf in my hands. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Or of him.”
“He’s smitten. You’re smitten. You’ll figure it out.” She turned her attention back to her laptop. “Oh, another story just hit. I’ll forward you the link—but promise me you won’t look until tomorrow?”
“But if I’m the story—”
“I know where you are.” She made a shooing motion.
On that note, I headed out. As I drove to Finn’s, I reflected on the—so far three—stories published in other papers that had discussed my previous situation.
None had made it the focus of the story, though, so I was grateful for that.
I’d seriously considered giving Spring the byline for this story.
Except she just didn’t know it as well as I did.
So she couldn’t have bluffed the shoe-leather reporting.
Well, maybe she could’ve—the woman was damn smart.
Still, if things had gone south, I needed to be the one to take the flak. Whatever that looked like.
I kept my speed at the limit as I headed to Finn’s. The road were slick, as the snow had turned to a cold, heavy rain. Perhaps a night to spend at home by the fire. Still, I had dinner reservations.
And a plan.
Finn emerged from his cabin as I pulled up. He hopped in and leaned over for a peck. A kiss that came as naturally as breathing. “I’m ready.” His boyish smile emerged.
“How’s your head?” I turned my SUV around and had us heading back down the driveway.
“Mom says it’s okay for me to go out tonight.”
“Oh? I didn’t see her car.” I’d only spotted Finn’s pickup truck.
“Nothing like that. She came to visit.”
“And to check up on you, I’m quite certain.”
“You would be certainly correct.”
“I can’t blame her. Less than twenty-four hours ago, you were being shot at.” I pulled onto his road.
“Not sure what that has to do with a concussion.”
I chuckled. “Maybe that you need your head examined? Following me like that?”
This time, he laughed. “I saved your life.”
I chanced the quickest of glances toward him. “How do you figure that?”
“If I hadn’t been there, then you wouldn’t have known about the propane tank. If you hadn’t known about the—”
“Okay, I get it.” I laughed as I pulled on the street that would take us back to Mission City’s downtown. “I’ll grant you that much. I’d also appreciate if you didn’t stick your neck out like that again.” I cast another quick glance. “Profession aside. I’d never ask you not to be a firefighter.”
“Oh, phew. Because that would be a deal-breaker.”
I smiled. Yeah, I’d known that. To Finn, being a firefighter was his raison d’être.
Like, for me, reporting was in my blood. “I suppose I could’ve been a detective?”
“You planning to join the RCMP?”
I barked out a laugh at Finn’s question. ‘Uh, no. I was just thinking that if I wasn’t a reporter, I wouldn’t make a bad detective. Private, of course. I’m not meant for law enforcement.”
“No, too conformist for you. Too many rules.” No missing the smile in his words.
“Hey.”
“Just keeping it real.” He placed his hand on my thigh. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
“My pleasure. Truly. Now, when was the last time you went to Stavros’s?”
He regaled me with the few times he’d gone over the years. Usually with his mother. He also made it clear calamari was a hard no, and I wasn’t allowed to have it either.
Since that particular food wasn’t my favorite, I didn’t have a problem with that edict.
By the time we were seated, and Stavros’s niece Timothea had taken our order, my nerves were ratcheted up to maximum.
Finn held his hand out.
I grasped it.
“Unless you’re planning to tell me that you never want to see me again, then there’s no reason to be nervous.”
“How do you know I’m nervous?”
“Oh Jesus, Ulysses. I know you by now.”
“How did you know to follow me? Where I was headed?”
“An unlocked phone screen. You might want to be more careful in the future.”
I considered. “If I didn’t have confidential information on it—although deeply layered under encryption—then I could just give you my password.”
“Like I gave you the spare key to my place?”
“Oh yeah. I used that this morning when I left. I should give it back to you.”
He waved me off.
I didn’t argue.
“Two colas.” Timothea put the glasses on the table and grinned. Her blue eyes sparkled. “And your meals should be up shortly.”
Finn squeezed my hand. “No rush.”
She glanced down. “Yeah, I figured as much. Oh, new customers. I have to go.” With that, she headed toward the door and the new arrivals.
I followed her with my gaze and cocked my head.
Finn turned—obviously to see what had caught my attention.
He chuckled. “That would be Stanley and Justin. Must be date night because they don’t have their two kids.
” He pivoted his attention back to me. “Justin’s one of the handsome gingers I mentioned all those months ago.
I warned you Mission City has several very attractive gay redheads.
Fun fact—Justin looks nearly identical to Stanley’s ex-boyfriend, Maddox.
We all thought Stanley getting together with Justin was a hoot—because obviously the guy has a type. ”
“Stanley?”
“Yep. Although, to be fair, Justin sort of got thrown in his path.” He sobered.
“Stanley’s younger brother died, leaving his beloved son behind.
Stanley stepped up to take care of the boy.
Justin happened to be Angus’s counselor and, well—” He shrugged.
“Sometimes we don’t see love coming, and it catches us off guard.
Later, after the men formally adopted Angus, they adopted a little girl—Opal.
They now have this amazing life that came out of a profound tragedy. ”
I held his gaze.
“I responded to the call from Angus about his dad.” He tightened his grip on my fingers. “The man was dead, but Angus kept begging us to do something. Those calls—” He swallowed. “I hate when nothing can be done. Won’t stop me from doing my job, though. I want back out into the field. Real bad.”
Taking in the story proved tough. “Family’s what we make of it, right?”
He blinked. “Uh, yeah.”
“Do you want kids?”
He stilled. Slowly, he shook his head. “I love working with the kids at the high school. I love volunteering at the shelter. I’m not one of those guys who feels his life isn’t complete without having a legacy to leave.
I worried about my mom wanting grandkids, but we had that conversation.
She understands. She’s also the first to admit being a parent—especially a single parent—is really hard.
Now—” He drew in a breath and let it out.
“If I met someone who knew they wanted to become a parent—that their lives wouldn’t be complete without that—I’d reconsider. ”
“You shouldn’t have to.” I continued to hold his hand.
“Life is about compromises.”
“That’s a lifelong commitment. That’s more than a compromise. That’s—” I floundered.
“So how about you?”
“Nope. Kids are great. Someone else’s, though. I had a shitty childhood, and I worry I’d be a bad parent. And, frankly, it’s just not for me.”
“Knowing yourself is important. I love that gay people have choices.”
“Yeah. I’m old enough to remember when they didn’t. I’m happy to never go back to that time.”
“One moussaka and one chicken souvlaki.” Timothea waited until we pulled our hands apart before putting the plates of heavenly smelling food before us. “Anything else?”
We shook our heads.
“Bon appetit.” With that, she left us.
Finn held my gaze. “Was the kids discussion the hardest part of the evening?”
“Christ, I hope so.”
“Great. Let’s eat.”