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“Trust me, I get it.”
The lieutenant sent him a steely glance. “Do you?”
Not again. Every time something went off script, Chambers came down on him like a hammer to a nail. The undercover investigation had been right on target, until the rookie had forced Dante to make a snap decision. It was like Chambers got enjoyment out of making him squirm.
“I know the other team on this case. They’ll tie the entire ring together. With the information I acquired, these guys will go away for a long time.”
Chambers merely grunted in agreement.
Dante’s knee started jumping. He forced pressure on it with his hand to keep the lieutenant from noticing.
“That’s not why I called you in here.”
But you couldn’t resist mentioning it yet again, Dante thought.
“With the possibility of a future undercover case coming your way, I need to know I can rely on you to keep your cool and get the job done.”
“You know I always follow protocol, sir.”
“And your idea of protocol is improvising?”
Why did this conversation not seem different from the one they’d started out with?
“I’ll be honest, I’m worried about you, Matthews. How many undercover operations have you been part of in the last year?”
“Three.”
“And while two have been successful, I wonder if it’s too much.”
Okay, taking down high-risk criminals was intense work. Pretending to be someone other than himself for extended periods of time took a toll. He’d learned to conceal the fear or anxiety in a dicey situation, while reveling in the adrenaline rush during a bust. He had no problem arresting the bad people under surveillance when the time came. It was the innocent bystanders who were pulled into a criminal lifestyle by association or relationships that did a number on his head. Undercover jobs weren’t for everyone, but it worked for Dante.
“I think you should sit out the next assignment. Handle more routine calls coming into the department.”
Dante controlled his annoyance by staring at the family picture of Chambers, his wife and kids displayed on a credenza behind the desk. Family. It’s what got him into law enforcement in the first place, a love-hate relationship he dealt with daily.
“Is this coming from you or higher up?” he finally asked.
“A mutual decision.”
He nodded. At least he wasn’t suspended, or worse. He’d made a mistake. Would take his lumps, even if it meant the dreaded desk duty.
“Is that all?”
“One last question.”
Dante swallowed a sigh.
“Do you wish to move up in your career?”
Unexpected. Chambers had never discussed Dante’s career path before. “Move up, sir?”
“You do know we need to fill the sergeant position.”
“Everyone knows.”
“You passed the exam. It’s been brought to my attention that a supervisory position might be a good move for you.”
The sergeant job? Yeah, it sounded appealing, but with his rep, he doubted he’d be in the running. And he doubly doubted Chambers wanted him in the position.
“Think about it,” the lieutenant said, rising, which Dante took as his cue to end the meeting.
“I will. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
As Dante closed the door behind him, he yanked at his tie. The conversation with Chambers set his mind in motion and the idea of being weighed down in paperwork didn’t thrill him. Would there be reams more if he made sergeant? A definite check in the con list.
He’d just settled in his chair when Eloise caught his eye. She was busy writing something on a yellow legal pad. No doubt jotting down notes on a case or for a trial. She was organized that way. Making sure to cross all her t’s and dot all her i’s. Had mad computer skills he lacked. But there was an air of uncertainty about her that he understood. It made him want to coax a smile out of her. She took everything in life so seriously, not even recognizing his teasing until they were well into a conversation. Calling her Ellie was just icing on the cake. He knew it rattled her and thought it might secretly please her.
Beneath her starched, professional persona, she possessed a determination that impressed him. He’d noticed it a few months back when they’d disagreed on a certain department policy. Most colleagues gave him wide berth. Not Ellie. She stated her reasoning, concise and to the point, and he took notice, real notice, of her for the first time.
And why that mattered, he couldn’t say. Just knew he liked her. Admired her dedication to the job. Along with her knowledge. She had a way of catching his eye and kept him looking. What else was hidden in those still waters?
She closed a file and tapped it on her desk to even the edges. A satisfied smile curved her lips until she glanced across the room and their gazes collided. Behind her glasses, coffee-brown eyes widened. Her cheeks turned pink. He found himself wondering if she dated and, if so, what kind of guy she went for. When she turned away, he knew his procrastinating had come to an end. With Chambers breathing down his neck, he needed to get some work done.
Her phone rang, and after a short conversation, she grabbed her bag and left.
The afternoon dragged on during his stint working the front desk. Hating every minute of being confined, it irked him that he answered the phone but couldn’t go on any calls. He took a break to pour himself some coffee, hoping caffeine would give him a much-needed jolt. Maybe he’d see which guys were participating in the mud run or engage in some office gossip to perk himself up. When he went back to the squad room, he noticed Ellie had returned.
Mug in hand, he sauntered to her desk. Leaned against the side.
“Heard you’re going to the mud run.”
Her head jerked up. “What? Who told you that?”
“Mason. Said he heard it from some guy over at the Palm Beach PD.”
“Well, he heard wrong. I have no intention of running in mud.”
“Chicken?”
Her eyes narrowed at his challenge. “Sane.”
“It could be fun.”
“Says who?”
Her horrified look had him chuckling. “I’ll take that as a definite no.”
“Because my first answer was unclear?”
“Touchy.”
She blinked at him. “Bleary-eyed.”
“Guess my wrangling you into reviewing my reports is moot.”
“I can’t provide information I have no knowledge of.”
“That’s right, we’ve never worked on a case together.” He took a sip of the bitter coffee and grimaced. “Although that might change. I’ll be around more often.”
“No new exciting cases?”
He shrugged. “Not for me. For a while, anyway.”
“So you hone your detective skills in the meantime.”
“Saying I’m rusty?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never worked with you.”
She’d used his words against him. He held up his mug and grinned.
“Not that I’ve asked not to be paired with you.”
“I never thought you did.”
She relaxed.
Add nice person to the mental list he’d been making about her earlier.
“How come you never go out with your fellow officers after work?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know. I’m not a terribly social person.”
“Why is that?”
She shoved her glasses up her nose. A nervous tick he’d noticed.
“Not good company, I guess.”
“Then why is a Palm Beach detective interested in you?”
Her mouth gaped open. “Why would you think that?”
“Because he told Mason.”
“Good grief,” she muttered under her breath, then met his gaze again. “I think work relationships are better left at work.”
Interesting. History there?
“Fair enough.”
The conversation lagged for a few moments. Ellie glanced at a clock on the wall. “I need to head out.”
“You never answered me about dinner tonight. Two colleagues discussing work over a burger and fries?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, but thank you.”
She stood, gathered her purse and slid the chair up to the everything-in-its-place desk. He wanted to mess it up and see her reaction. Instead, he moved aside as she passed, her light floral perfume following in her wake. “See you tomorrow.”
“’Bye.”
He returned to his desk, a little disappointed. He would have loved to wrangle the truth of why she avoided work relationships out of her, but not tonight. He settled back in and, to his surprise, finished the last of his tasks in no time.
An hour later he ran along the broad sidewalk in Soldier Park that was situated parallel to the ocean, loud, headbanging music keeping pace with his stride. After a day of being mostly cooped up, he needed to get rid of the excess energy. Running had always been a way to do just that.
Or cars. Tinkering with an engine always grounded him. He never understood why, just accepted the gift. Working on cars had not only given him focus, but he’d spent the best times of his life working alongside his dad. It was the one thing they’d had in common. And growing up with three older brothers, it was also the one thing he didn’t have to fight and scratch for to get his father’s attention. His bothers preferred other activities.
Coming to the end of his run, he slowed down. The sun was setting. The early-spring temperatures were still cool for Florida, but in the next months the thermometer would begin to inch up to the ninety-degree days of summer. Dante would have to get up at dawn to handle the heat while he ran, but it beat going to the gym. Just wasn’t the same as getting out in the fresh air, charging past couples out walking their dogs or parents playing with their kids at the playground.
He stopped the iPod and yanked out his earbuds. Instead of raging guitars, the water crashing onto the shore greeted his ears. He gazed out over the undulating water, taking a deep breath. Salty with a mix of suntan lotion. Sunset, his favorite time of the day. He found peace watching the sun disappear from the sky, dragging streaks of pinks and oranges fading to purple with it, until the sky went black.
He loved it here in Palm Cove. His brothers, Derrick and Deke, worked in different states, and Dylan, on the opposite coast of Florida. When Dylan found himself falling in love during a case, their mother had decided to move to be closer to the only woman who, she was certain, would ever be a possible daughter-in-law. Jasmine Matthews knew how to lay on a guilt trip just as her boys knew how to sidestep her tactics. It was a game they played, more so since their father had died. Mom needed a hobby and acting like her world would end if she didn’t have daughters and grandbabies worked for her.
A smile crossed his lips. He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed her number.
“Dante. It’s been nearly a month,” his mother accused in way of greeting.
“I was undercover. I told you and Dylan.”
“Dylan’s been busy chasing after criminals. You boys need to give me better details.”
“We can’t always do that.”
“Please.” She tsked. “Your father always did.”
Dante knew that wasn’t the case. Daryl Matthews had been on the force for thirty-five years. There was no way he told his wife everything.
“I was just thinking about Dad.”
Her voice softened. “A good memory?”
“Cars.”
She laughed. “You two did have fun. How’s the Cobra?”
The ’65 Mustang he was currently retooling. “You remembered.”
