Necessary Detour (32 page)

His friend Webber, from the department, answered. “Roger that.”

Pete’s own photo had been given too much press lately, for him to risk recognition.

When the perp approached the intended drop-off point for the money, Pete noticed him right away. It looked like he was alone, had a nervous, hungry look in his eyes and out of his depth with this felony. It was possible that he needed money for drugs.

Webber held the black duffel bag, trying to look like a dumb roadie. With long hair and worn jeans, he could’ve been one of Goldy’s stage crew. Pete watched the scrawny perp approach and reach for the bag.

“I’ll tell you where the dog is once I count the money.”

Was this kid working alone? Pete hoped so. He looked grossly inadequate but underestimating a situation too soon could be a mistake. They moved to a bench.

“Open the bag. Let’s see.”

Webber complied, dug through the bag to show the money was real and lifted some bills. “Don’t wave it around, you dumb fuck.” The kid knew that much.

“Now where’s the mutt?” Webber sounded like he had a date with a six pack of Budweiser and wanted to get this chore over.

Then the perp made his first big mistake. He didn’t count the money but instead, told Webber to zip up the bag. “I’ll call that number in fifteen minutes to tell you.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Webber put a firm hand on the duffel’s handle. “Tell me now or we’re done. Goldy hasn’t even asked about this stupid dog.”

The kid looked like he wasn’t sure what to do, fidgeting, wiping his forehead, all signs that he was nervous. Pete smiled.

“Where is it? Come on, man. It’s just a fucking dog.”

“In a black bag at the service entrance to a restaurant around the corner.”

“Which one?”

Pause. “Charlie’s Grill.”

“Charlie’s? You mean that place with the green awning out front and the—”

“In the back alley.”

Webber was buying time for Pete to get around the corner.

“You gotta come with me while I see if it’s him. It could be any stray dog, and you got some big dough in there for this.” Webber gestured to the duffel under his hand.

“No! I told you, behind Charlie’s!”

Good, the perp was panicking. Pete was half way to the service entrance when Webber spoke. “You’re not leaving here with the money until I check to see it’s the right dog. You could’ve brought me a fuckin’ dead Chihuahua. I gotta verify it’s him.”

There was a pause while the kid thought about what to do, then Webber said, “Tell you what. I’ll let you carry your money, and when I see it’s the dog, you can take off. I don’t want any trouble, man. I’m just a sound guy, not some fucking criminal like you.

Pete rounded the corner and saw the black bag up against the wall, behind a trash can, near the service entrance. He prayed that Elvis was inside and breathing. As he unzipped, a snarl erupted from within. “Easy, boy, it’s just me, just Pete.” Elvis snapped at his hand, his teeth penetrating the flesh on Pete’s palm. “Elvis.” He tried to use the high voice the dog responded to the best.

It was indeed Elvis, with his camouflage collar, and his big smile. “Elvis, you okay, boy?” The little dog jumped up on Pete’s knees and, clawing his way to kiss Pete’s face, tried to cover him with stinky kisses.

“It’s him, Webber. Affirmative.”

****

An hour later, Pete was handing over a twenty-two-year-old punk to the King County Police to be booked on one charge of theft and one charge of blackmail. Even though it would have been easy to just clip this guy on the side of the head for mischief then let him go, Pete had to remember that he’d been a punk once. And punks needed the reward and punishment system. He’d let the court system figure it out.

Sitting in the truck with Elvis asleep on his lap, Pete called Nikki’s cell again to tell her the good news, in case she knew that Elvis was missing.

Voicemail. “It’s Pete. I’ve got Elvis and I’ll bring him by the hospital right now.” He paused. “I feel so…so…terrible about what happened to you. So did Connie.” Elvis was snoring up a storm, and Pete had to speak up. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but maybe not. I’m also hoping everything is fine with the baby. Every since I felt her kick, well, I feel like I know her.” He stroked Elvis’s head. “I hope.” He chuckled. “Well, I’m doing a lot of hoping right now, so I’ll just head over to the hospital and hope to see you.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you cannot bring a dog into the hospital.” The hospital security man stopped Pete in the first floor lobby.

“This is Goldy’s dog. She’s in the VIP suite.” He flashed his badge, something he hadn’t surrendered just yet. Everyone knew Goldy was upstairs. The guard nodded. “I need to radio ahead to check the protocol on bringing in an animal that’s not a service dog.”

“I’ll wait.”

Once upstairs, Pete put Elvis down on the linoleum and leashed him. He’d stopped at the pet store, had Elvis shampooed and while he waited, bought a leash to match his collar. He was looking fine for his reunion with Nikki and Quinn.

The guards shook their heads.

“This is Goldy’s dog.”

“The dog is fine but not you. Give him to us,” one of them said.

Pete bent down to pick up the pug, prepared to clutch him to his chest.

“Give him up.” The bigger of the two guards reached for Elvis, and the dog snarled.

Pete showed the blood-crusted bite on his own hand. “He’s a biter. I better take him in.”

The older guard radioed someone, and then Quinn ran down the hall, tears pooling in her eyes. “Oh, my God, there you are, little guy.” Elvis looked like he was going to burst if he didn’t kiss Quinn, and Pete couldn’t refuse the transfer. Hell, poor little dog had been through a long separation from the women in his life. He handed him over.

“Thank you, Mr. Bayer.” Quinn let Elvis kiss her neck and laughed. “Oh, you look good for being lost.”

“Pete,” he said.

Quinn looked at him. “What?”

“Call me Pete.”

“Oh. Where was he?”

“Some nice people took care of him.” Pete handed over a bag of dog food. “Now, can I see your mother?”

“She’s asleep. I’ll have to call you later.”

“Ah, Quinn. You’re not playing games with me, are you?” He searched her face.

“No.”

“Come on, Quinn. Ask your mom if she wants to see me.”

“She’s asleep.”

Something in the way she stood and stared at him told Pete he was not going to win this. “Quinn, when your mother wakes up, please give her this and ask her to call me.” He reached for his business card, but she interrupted.

“I have your number from my mother’s cell.”

“Are you listening to her messages?”

Quinn turned to walk down the hall then stopped. She spun around. “Thank you for finding Elvis.”

There was no emotion in her voice. Dang, she was a tough nut to crack. He watched her walk away, Elvis smothering her face with kisses, and Pete felt as unloved as Elvis probably felt loved.

****

Nikki found the remote control in the folds of her thin hospital blanket and turned on the TV. Connie’s photo flashed on the screen. The text under her picture said her name was “Cathy Vanelli.” She turned up the volume.

“Ten-year-old son, Tony Jr., the offspring of east coast lawyer Tony Vanelli, murdered while visiting his dying mother in Seattle last summer.”
Oh, God!
“Lawyer to the crime lord Cassius Zetti, Anthony Vanelli’s death is thought to have been a mob hit. His wife Cathy was taken into seclusion to await her testimony.”

“Mom, are you okay?” The volume woke Quinn in the chair beside her.

“I’m remembering something.” Nikki squinted at the TV. She dug deep for recognition of the flashes in her mind. “Connie was a witness at her husband’s murder trial and Pete’s a U.S. Marshal.” The whole story was unfolding in front of her like a book had fallen open to the photo pages. “Pete was protecting Connie. They were waiting for the trial to begin. She had to testify.” Nikki glanced at the TV news which had moved on to another story.

The guard knocked on the door and peeked in. It was Dwayne. “Quinn, there’s something out here you’ll want to see.”

Quinn regarded her mother with concern. “I’ll be right back.”

Memories flooded back to Nikki, faster than she could process. She and Connie were friends on the sailboat. But she and Pete were more than that. Secrets had been shared. She’d fallen for Pete. He wasn’t married to Connie.

Quinn burst through the door with Elvis in her arms, and when the little dog saw Nikki, he let out a squeal that made Nikki laugh. “There you are, big guy. Have you been having fun without me?” She expected a visitor to follow Quinn, but the door closed behind her daughter.

“Mom, I can’t put him on the bed, because he’ll step all over you.”

“That’s fine, sweetie, just let him lick my face and I’ll scratch behind his ears while you hold him.” Elvis put up more of a fuss than necessary and Nikki laughed. “I missed you, little boy.” She looked at Quinn. “Did the Bayers bring him?”

“No.” Quinn didn’t meet her mother’s eyes, and when she finally put Elvis on the hospital floor and got him a bowl of water, she still looked guilty. What was going on?

Once Elvis calmed down, he curled up on the end of Nikki’s bed and fell asleep while Quinn settled in to study in the chair. Nikki tried to remember the time on the sailboat with the Bayers. Elvis had gas from eating stew, and Pete put him outside for an hour. Elvis had run around on a beach somewhere, and she’d fantasized about buying an island and living there with the baby, Elvis, and Pete. Pete’s lips were soft. She felt his hands on her body, his careful caress, and him saying, “Let me know if I should stop.”

It had been the night before they’d left for Seattle, although neither knew they’d disembark the following day. Connie had gone to bed with Tony. The stars were out in full force, twinkly pinpricks of brilliance through a velvet sky. After looking through the telescope, brushing against one another and smiling into each other’s faces, they’d zipped two sleeping bags together and lay on the outside couch to star watch. Somewhere after finding Cassiopeia, they kissed, first sweetly, then more desperately.

“Oh, Nikki, this’ll ruin me,” he’d whispered in her ear.

She hadn’t known what he meant, but answered him by deepening the kiss. Snuggled in the sleeping bags, Pete’s hands wandered under her clothes. They’d laughed about all their clothing. Still, Nikki could feel how ready he was.

“I want you to make love to me, Pete,” she’d whispered.

He hesitated.

“It won’t hurt the baby and you know it.”

“Are you sure?” He kissed her long and deep, searching for something. Permission maybe, but not from her. From himself.

“I’m sure.” The thought sent shivers through her body and had her almost climaxing before anything had happened.

She kissed that gorgeous mouth she’d been staring at all day. When he moved on top and slipped carefully into her wetness, he’d asked if that felt all right.

“Hmmm, better than all right.” She couldn’t help emitting a little sigh of pleasure. He’d fit inside her like it was planned, like puzzle pieces sliding perfectly together. His hard body on her, his smell, everything about being with Pete was like all her dreams merging. Going deeper with each thrust, their arousal escalated until holding back was impossible. The explosion was like shattering into thousands of glass shards, and the ecstasy took her somewhere she’d never been. Higher.

Pete smothered his face in her hair and pumped, grinding deeper and deeper until one final thrust and he shuddered against her. Nikki squeezed herself tighter. His racing heart beat against her breast, and she hugged him like she’d never let him go. They lay still, settling back to normalcy. Nikki wondered if anything would ever be normal for her after this.

“I love you, Nicole Anne,” Pete said.

Having heard those words many times with Burn, Nikki kissed him and let him believe he meant it.

After he softened and pulled out, they snuggled in each other’s warmth. Making love with Pete had been wildly exciting and brilliantly sweet at the same time.

“You are so…so…” He tenderly stroked her thigh.

“Sexy?”

“That too, but you are so soft, that it makes you even more sexy than you look, if that’s even possible.” Pete kissed her shoulder. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Nikki.”

She wanted to cry, for many reasons. “I love that you called me Nikki, and not Goldy.”

As first time lovers, they drifted in and out of sleep and each other, until the sky lightened. Then for propriety’s sake, Nikki suggested they move to their own beds.

Pete chuckled in her shoulder. “Good idea. Let’s just go off to bed, where we sleep inches from each other.”

“Oh, you’ve noticed, have you?” She kissed the scar on his chin. They dressed and gathered up the rumpled sleeping bags to sneak into their respective beds quietly. “Goodnight, Pete,” Nikki whispered.

“Goodnight, Nikki.” He reached across the three foot expanse. She extended her hand, and was surprised when a Yoruba protection necklace passed between them.

****

The house was on five fenced acres, overlooking Lake Washington. Thanks to trees on three sides, the privacy factor was off the charts. It had more square feet than Nikki needed, but, because of its expansive yard, view of the lake, and floor plan, she would overlook the extra bedrooms and bathrooms. At least the baby’s room would be next to her own, and Quinn could have her choice of rooms.

She sent Quinn and Merilee to look at the house, and three hours later they returned with a glowing report.

“It is exactly your style, Mom,” Quinn had said.