Chapter Twenty-Five
I got out of the car, so I was standing and facing her as she said, “Why are you waiting for me? I agreed to the dinner.”
“I’m not waiting for you,” I said.
“Were you going to follow me to see if I got a date or something?”
“It never occurred to me to follow you, Reggie.”
“You’re a cop, it’s part of what they teach you, isn’t it?”
“I suppose, but I’m just waiting—”
“For what; if you’re not waiting to see where I go next, what are you waiting for?” she demanded.
“To know if I join Charleston at the crime scene or go with another detective to get background on a suspect.”
That seemed to calm her down a little. “Oh, well, how long does that take to find out?”
My phone rang and saved us both from a conversation that I really didn’t understand at all. “Hey, Havoc, wait until you see what we found at the parents’ house!”
“Just tell me what it is,” I said, smiling because she sounded so excited.
“Who is that?” Reggie asked.
“It’s Detective Bridges.”
“Lila, you mean.” And she raised both her eyebrows up high enough that they showed above the sunglasses.
“Yes, Lila Bridges,” I said.
Lila said, “I thought your text said the therapy was over.”
“We’re in the parking lot,” I said.
“Is she asking where we are?” Reggie said.
“Yes,” I said.
“What?” Lila asked.
Reggie pantomimed me handing the phone to her, but I was too confused about what was happening, so I put it on speaker. “Lila, you’re on speaker, Reggie wanted to talk to you, I think.”
“Hi, Reggie,” Lila said, her voice neutral friendly.
“Hi, Lila.” Reggie’s tone was overly friendly and didn’t sound right. “Did he text you as soon as our couples therapy was over?”
“Her and Charleston,” I said.
“Havoc wanted to know if I was done talking to the parents.”
“Parents, what do you mean, parents?” Reggie asked.
“One of the people involved in the crime is a college kid,” I said, so that Lila didn’t have to figure out how much I’d shared or not shared with my wife.
“Victim or bad guy?” Reggie asked, but her anger seemed to be fading.
“Both,” I said.
“You mean this is all college-age kids?” she asked.
“Everyone’s young, or as old as they’re ever going to get,” Lila said, and she couldn’t hide the weariness in her voice.
She might have been excited about the evidence she’d found, but something about the case was getting to her.
It probably meant the parents had been nice.
Sometimes it was harder when the family seems like good people, especially if you’re trying to tell them their son is suspected in the rape and murder of another college student.
“I didn’t know the victim or that everyone else involved was so young. I’m sorry you had to go see the parents.” And Reggie sounded more like herself.
“Never my favorite part of the job,” Lila said, and she sounded tired.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with the parents, Lila,” I said.
“Hey, I took the new guy, MacGregor 2.0; he didn’t suck.”
“I’m glad he didn’t suck,” I said.
“I’m sorry that Zaniel couldn’t be there to help, too, Lila,” Reggie said.
“It’s okay, I just wish my wife had been willing to do counseling with me like you and Havoc are doing.”
“Are you saying that Annie refused to go to couples counseling with you?” Reggie asked.
“Yeah, I offered, but she said there was nothing wrong with her, she didn’t need therapy, and if I thought I needed it I should go to therapy, but couples therapy without the other half of your couple seemed sort of pointless.” Lila sounded about as unhappy as I’d ever heard her.
“That sounds awful,” Reggie said, her voice soft. The glasses hid most of her face, but she seemed more affected than I’d expected by Lila sharing.
“It’s okay, Reggie, I just want someone else to get the happily-ever-after I keep missing.
” She sounded genuinely sad, which I knew she was about her divorce, but she was letting Reggie hear it in her voice on purpose.
I didn’t know why, but I knew it was on purpose, because Lila could control her voice in an interrogation or undercover better than I could.
“Well, I don’t think we’re ready for happily-ever-after, but the counseling sessions are helpful,” Reggie said.
“I thought it was promising,” I said, fighting to keep my voice as neutral as hers.
“Promising is good,” Lila said on the phone, then added, “I’m taking all the paraphernalia we gathered at the house back to the precinct. I want you to see it before it goes to forensics. Neither I nor the new guy is that versed on this kind of occult.”
“I’ll meet you there,” I said.
“Okay, and good to talk to you, Reggie.”
“Good to talk to you, too, Lila.”
“See you back at home base, Havoc,” Lila said, then hung up.
Reggie looked down at the ground and sighed. I was almost able to ignore how it made the sweater move as she did it. I made sure I was meeting her eyes behind the black lenses when she looked up.
“I’m sorry, Zaniel, I don’t know what got into me.”
“It’s okay, Reggie, but I would never follow you to see what you’re doing. I would trust you to tell me if there was something I needed to know.”
“Oh, Zaniel,” she said, her voice soft and exasperated all at the same time, as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted to hug me or get mad at me again.
“What is wrong, Reggie? Why would you block my car in like this, like you’re trying to catch me out or something?” That made me ask, “Have you been following me around to see if I’m dating someone?”
“No, of course not,” she snapped that time, anger and that disdainful I-wouldn’t-stoop-so-low tone in her voice.
I was tired of feeling like I’d done something wrong when I hadn’t. “You accused me of doing it, why shouldn’t I ask you the same question?”
She opened her mouth to say something sharp and probably hurtful, but she stopped herself.
She took a deep breath in and then slowly let it out as if she was counting.
She was seriously angry, but I had no idea what about.
It was like she was having a hugely different conversation inside her head than the one I was having with her.
That wasn’t like Reggie; she was emotional, but not usually this confusing.
“You’re right, I started this, you have every right to throw it back at me. I am sorry for jumping to stupid conclusions. Too many people giving me bad advice from their divorces, I guess.”
“No one at work is telling me anything, except good luck with working it out.”
“That’s very mature for a bunch of cops.” And there was the disdain back in her voice, like she couldn’t help it.
“Well, at least the immature cops aren’t giving me bad advice that’s making me angry at you for things you haven’t even done, unlike your mature teacher friends.”
I expected her to be angry again, but she surprised me by saying, “You’re right, my friends haven’t been giving me very good advice.”
I didn’t know how to react to her just giving up; even if she was in the wrong, she didn’t give up on a fight this easily, but then maybe it wasn’t a fight—yet.
“I just want to come back home with you and Connery. I’m sorry you hate my job, but I’ve been a cop the entire time you’ve known me.”
“I know,” she said; her voice still sounded defeated, which I didn’t hear from her often. I didn’t like it, my Regina defeated.
I wanted to touch her face, to make her smile, but I wasn’t sure how she’d take the touch, and that made my chest tight like someone had hit me over the heart. Honest, the therapist kept telling us, we needed to be honest.
“May I touch your face?”
“You don’t have to ask just to touch my face, Zaniel.”
“I’m not sure of the rules, so I’ve been not touching you or looking at you, because it seemed to piss you off, so I’m asking.”
Her lips curled upward just a little. She reached out and took my hand in hers. Even that sped my pulse, and part of me felt stupid for reacting to such a small gesture. She placed my hand against the side of her face and smiled up at me.
I cupped the side of her face in my hand with her hand pressing against mine and it felt so right. “May I kiss you?”
“Yes,” she said, and this time I felt her face move as she smiled up at me.
I leaned over her and she turned her face upward to meet me, my hand still cupping the side of her face.
My lips touched hers, and the first thought was how soft they were, and then the slight thickness of her lipstick stopped me, because I knew it would smear.
She didn’t like to have it smeared in public, especially when she was wearing base makeup.
Her mouth tasted sweet and alive, but the lipstick was bitter; a lot of the darker lipsticks tasted that way.
I drew back to stare down into her face, which was still raised up toward me like an offering.
I couldn’t see through the dark glasses to see if her eyes were closed or if she was gazing up at me.
It wasn’t until I felt her face move slightly against my hand that I realized she’d opened her eyes.
For some reason the fact that she’d closed her eyes made me even happier than the kiss alone had.
She moved her head, so I dropped my hand away. “Why did you stop kissing me?” she asked.
“You hate it when I smear your lipstick all over your base.”
“I don’t hate it,” she said.
I almost said, out loud, You could have fooled me , but luckily, I was smarter than that and said, “You’ve told me not to smear your lipstick, especially when you’re wearing base.”
She leaned her hands against my chest, putting her body weight behind it. I started to put my arms around her automatically but hesitated partway through.
“Hold me, Zaniel,” she said.
I wrapped my arms around her, and she leaned into the hug for the first time in longer than I could remember.
I finally felt free to smile, but I was still tense holding her, waiting for her to pull away or tell me I’d overstepped my bounds.
What had once been so natural and easy between us had become a minefield that I no longer knew how to walk.
“Hold me, Zaniel.”