Rookie Mistake (California Dreamers #4) (7 page)

“I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Just a drink,” he says. “That’s all. You grab drinks with your colleagues after work, don’t you?”

I shake my head.

“You never go out with friends from work?”

“I don’t have any friends at work,” I admit.

He’s taken aback. “How long have you been on the force?”

“Seven years.”

“And not one friend.”

“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” I tell him.

When his eyes meet mine there’s a surge of electricity exchanged between us. It nearly takes my breath away. Getting a drink with him would be very dangerous. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I manage to squeak out before I hurry away.

I practically run through the parking lot and hop into my Kia Soul so I can speed away. I need to get as far away from him as possible so I’m not tempted by his forbidden fruit.

Instead of going right home I make my way over to Zoe’s place. I blame her at least partially for this mess. If she hadn’t talked me into the
overnight delight
Cody would be nothing more than a new recruit for me to train.

When I pull up to her house she’s standing outside with a black lab on a leash.

“Officer Navarro,” she says when she spots me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m off-duty,” I tell her. And it sounds so weird when she calls me that. “Do I stink?”

“That’s an odd question.” She sniffs the air around me. “No more than usual.”

“Funny. One of our calls today was a hoarder. The house reeked. I still can’t get the smell out of my nose.”

“Try working at a kennel your entire life. Your nose will never be the same again.”

“Cute dog.” I point to the lab.

“Rufus,” she says to the dog. “Sit.”

The lab stares at her.

“Rufus, sit.” This time she pushes his butt down as she gives the command. “Good boy. Good sit.”

“Training?” I ask.

“This dog is dumber than a box of hair. It’s taking some work.”

“You’re great with animals. I’m sure he’ll catch on.”

“So what’s up?” she asks. “You rarely stop by after work.”

“I told you today was my first day as a Field Training Officer. My big promotion. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“I take it things weren’t perfect.”

“It was a complete disaster. Even worse than that. What’s worse than a complete disaster?”

“FUBAR?”

I scrunch up my nose. “What’s FUBAR?”

“Fucked up beyond all recognition.”

I point a finger at her. “That’s exactly what this situation is. It’s FUBAR.”

“Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

“Believe me when I tell you it is that bad.”

“What is it?”

“The person I’m supposed to be supervising for the next ten weeks is the guy I picked up at the bar and slept with on Saturday night.”

Her eyes widen. “That is bad.”

“I told you.”

“What was he doing all the way out in the boonies at a country bar?”

I shake my head. “What were we doing all the way out there? Probably the same thing.”

“Didn’t you ask him?”

“We haven’t actually had a lot of conversation. Especially about
that
.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“What can I do? I can’t get out of supervising him. I would have to admit to my supervisor why it’s a conflict of interest. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want any of the other officers to find out either.”

“When you picked him up at the bar you didn’t know he’d be reporting to you. It’s not your fault.”

“My reputation is everything to me,” I tell her. “I don’t want anyone at work to know what happened.”

“Do you like him?” she asks.

“Is it that obvious? I like him a lot more than I should.”

“That definitely complicates things.”

I place my palms on my forehead. “I’m screwed.”

“You were screwed. And it sounds like you want to get screwed some more. That’s the problem.”

“It’s a prickly pickle,” I tell her.

“Can’t you continue to do the nasty and just not tell anyone?”

“That’s not a solution to the problem. That will only make things worse.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? If you get your freak on every night it will alleviate the sexual tension. That would probably make it a lot easier for both of you to perform your duties as police officers.”

For a moment I actually consider her idea. Until I come back to my senses.

“It was your brilliant plan to engage in a one night stand that got me into this mess in the first place. I don’t need any more of your brainstorms.”

Her eyes meet mine. “Why are you here, Maya?”

I heave a sigh. “Honestly?”

“When have we been anything but honest with each other?”

“I like him a lot more than I’m willing to admit. It actually scares me that I like him so much. He’s not like any guy I’ve ever been with. He knows I’m a cop and he still wants to be with me. He seems to want to be with me even more. That’s never happened to me before. But I can’t risk my job. My job is my life. I just don’t know what to do.”

Zoe gives me a hug. “I wish I had a snappy come back. Or some fortune cookie advice like
when life hands you lemons, make lemonade
. I honestly don’t know what to say. If it was me in that situation I wouldn’t chose. I’d fuck him as much as I could and I wouldn’t stop until someone told us we had to. But I know you’re not me. You always try to do the right thing. That’s why you’re a police officer and I’m just lucky I’ve never gotten arrested. I know it sounds trite, but you need to follow your heart.”

“That’s a lot easier said than done,” I admit. “You know I almost always follow my head. The times I’ve followed by heart haven’t turned out too well.”

“They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

“Whoever it is who says all these supposedly wise things, sometimes I just want to punch them.” I glance at my watch. “I just stopped by to tell you my news.”

“And it’s a doozy. You always manage to drop a bombshell.”

“I promised my mom I’d stop by for dinner. She wanted to hear all about my first day as an FTO.”

Zoe laughs. “Oh to be a fly on the wall when you have that conversation.”

***

“So?” My mom looks up from the salad she’s making when I enter the kitchen. “How did it go?”

I plop down on a stool across the counter from her.

“It was interesting.”

“How’s the new officer you’re training?”

I rub my chin. “Remember I mentioned the guy I picked up at the bar the other night?”

She raises an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“He’s the rookie I’m training.”

Her jaw drops. “Wow.”

“
Wow
is right.”

“What did you tell your supervisor?”

I gnaw on my bottom lip. “I haven’t exactly told him anything.”

“Yet?” She eyes me.

I have a sigh. “I just can’t do it.”

“You have to, Maya. You can’t continue to oversee his training. It’s not ethical.”

How do I tell my mom that I don’t want my sergeant to think I’m a slut?

“I didn’t know I was going to be supervising his training when I slept with him. And I don’t plan on sleeping with him again.”

The more I try to justify it, the worse it sounds. My mom is looking at me like I just robbed a bank.

Thankfully Hadley stomps into the kitchen. She slams her book bag and instrument case on the kitchen table. She’s been playing the violin since she was a little kid and she’s actually pretty good at it.

I’m not happy that she looks upset, but I am relieved that she’s taking the attention away from me.

“What’s wrong?” Mom asks her.

Her lips tighten into an angry line before she speaks. “We lost our assistant band director. He had to go out of town to deal with some sick relative or something. He was supposed to be working with the string quartet. It’s only two weeks before our spring recital.”

In typical teenage fashion she doesn’t take too many things very seriously. One thing she does take seriously though is the string quartet.

“Maybe they’ll be able to find someone else,” Mom offers.

Hadley rolls her eyes. “It’s too late now. We’re screwed.”

“Watch your mouth,” Mom warns.

Hadley turns her attention to me. “Mr. Duncan wants to meet with you.”

“Why me?” He’s one of the high school guidance counselors.

“He said you volunteered for Career Night. To talk about being a police officer. As if any of us would ever consider that as a career.”

“Not everyone can make money as a blogger or a YouTube sensation.”

“We’re the iGeneration. We’re digital natives. Of course most of us want to earn our livings online.”

“You still have to live in the real world,” I remind her. “Maybe some of your classmates would be interested in hearing about careers in cybercrime fighting.”

“Please just talk to Mr. Duncan. Every time he sees me in the hallway he reminds me to talk to you. It’s getting old.”

“I’ll stop by the high school when I have time,” I promise.

Four

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Cody blurts out as soon as we’re in the cruiser.

“Do what?” I glance over at him.

“This. All of this. Any of this. I just can’t stop thinking about you.” His eyes are blazing. “Especially in your uniform. You’re so hot.”

My first thought is:
he thinks I look sexy in my uniform
? My second thought it:
this can’t be happening
.

“You need to snap out of whatever this is,” I warn.

“I can’t…”

“You have to.”

“Maybe I don’t want to…”

My entire body begins to shake with anger. “This isn’t up for discussion. I’m your supervisor and you’ll do what I say. And I say you can no longer find me attractive in any way. Got it?”

His brow furrows. “It’s not that easy.”

Before I have a chance to say anything else we get our first call of the day: a cat stuck in a tree.

“Do we really have to respond to calls like that?” Cody asks, clearly not a cat person.

“We really do,” I assure him. 

We stop the cruiser in front of a gorgeous beachfront home that most likely belongs to someone famous. They’re the only folks who can afford that kind of a price tag.

Cody and I approach a petite blonde who looks like she’s in her mid-twenties. She’s standing in the driveway wringing her hands, obviously nervous.

“I’m Officer Maya Navarro. And this is Officer Cody Jackson.”

“I’m capable of introducing myself.”

So much for my authority as his training officer. “You’ll do what I say when I say it.”

“I’m Officer Jackson,” he says, seemingly just to spite me.

There are a lot of things I’d like to say to him right now, but I want to remain professional.

“A trainee is supposed to stay in the background and observe,” I whisper to him.

“Whatever you say Officer Sweet Cheeks,” he whispers back.

I take in a deep breath before I say something I’ll regret. Then I turn my attention to the blonde. “You called about a cat in a tree.”

She nods.

I remove a small notepad and pencil from my breast pocket. “Is this your home?”

She shakes her head, which isn’t the response I was expecting.

Then she clears her throat. “I live here, but it’s not my house.” The young woman is so nervous her voice sounds like one of those singing chipmunks.

Glancing up from my notepad I ask, “Who owns this home?”

“Jackson Drake. I work for him. Maddie Malone. I’m his assistant. He’s a writer…”

I cut her off. “I know who he is.” He’s a famous suspense thriller writer. I’ve read several of his books.

“It’s kind of a funny coincidence. His first name is Jackson.” She gestures towards Cody. “Your last name is Jackson.”

“What’s funny about it?” I ask.

“Who’s Jackson Drake?” Cody asks.

I glare at him. So much for him staying in the background and observing. “If you read anything other than nudie magazines maybe you’d recognize his name.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth I immediately regret them. Cody looks stunned by my mean comment. Although I did see a
Playboy
magazine in his bedroom I have no idea if that’s all he reads.

“For your information
nudie magazines
have articles, and they’re not the only things I read.”

I cross my arms in front of me and stare at him. “You’ve read a Jackson Drake novel?”

“Maybe…” Cody doesn’t sound very convincing.

“Then what’s his most popular main character?” I ask. “If you’re a fan of his you should know who’s featured in nearly all of his books.”

Cody gulps, but doesn’t reply.

“That’s what I thought. The correct answer is Blake Knox.”

“Speaking of Blake Knox,” Ms. Malone says. “The name of the cat that’s in the tree is Knox.”

“Right.” I glance down at my notepad. “Cats in trees really isn’t our jurisdiction. It’s usually the fire department that takes care of that.”

“Oh.” She looks disappointed.

“Or you may want to consider phoning animal control,” I suggest. “They may be able to assist you.”

“Does Mr. Drake have a gardener?” Cody offers. “Maybe he could help. He probably has to trim the trees.”

I glare at him. “Is he supposed to trim the cat out of the tree?”

“It was just a suggestion,” Cody fires back.

“A poor one.”

That’s when I notice what could be a cat scurrying in my peripheral version. “Is Knox gray?”

“Yes,” Ms. Malone replies hopefully.

I march past her and grab Knox from her hiding place under a large leaf. I hold her in my arms as I walk back over to Ms. Malone. 

“She’s beautiful,” I give her a few scratches behind the ears.

The cat purrs with enjoyment.

After a few moments Cody says, “You could give the cat back to Ms. Malone any day now.”

I hand the feline back to her. “Try not to let her out again.”

“I learned my lesson,” she assures me.

***

Cody remains quiet for the next hour as we do several vacation home security checks in a nearby neighborhood.

“What’s eating you?” I ask when I get tired of his silent treatment.

“According to my training manual you’re supposed to be
firm, but courteous
in your interactions with me.”

“I have been.”
Haven’t I?

“Honestly I think you could be a little more considerate.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I haven’t been as courteous as I could be. It’s possible I’m overcompensating because of my feelings for him.

“I need to make a stop at the high school,” I tell Cody as I turn into the driveway.

“What’s up?” he asks as we hop out of the car.

“This is what’s known as
community oriented policing
. Making contacts of a positive nature with citizens in the community. The school’s junior/senior guidance counselor wants to have a conversation with me about being one of the guest speakers at career night.”

“Well, aren’t you a superstar.”

“Not really. I’ve known Mr. Duncan for years. He was my guidance counselor when I attended the school.”

Cody starts singing
Another Brick in the Wall
by Pink Floyd.

“Do you have a song for everything?” I ask.

“Yup.”

Once we enter the high school we make a quick stop at the main office to let them know we’re visiting. Mrs. Myers, an older woman who sits at the front desk, gives me an enthusiastic wave when she spots me.

“Mr. Duncan is waiting for you in his office.”

The hallway is quiet as we make our way to the guidance office. The kids must be in class.

Mr. Duncan shares the guidance area with Ms. Reeves, the freshman/sophomore guidance counselor. I thought she’d be retired by now, but she’s still going strong even as she approaches seventy.

Mr. Duncan, on the other hand, is not even forty yet. When I was in high school he was in his mid-twenties. Back then he was the hot, new counselor all the girls had a crush on. Even now, in his thirties, he’s still crush worthy.

His sun bleached blond hair is cut shorter than the last time I saw him. It makes him look younger. He could easily pass for someone my age.

He gives me a big smile as soon as he sees me. “Maya! Look at you!” His blue eyes twinkle as he gazes at me.

Hurrying out of his office he stops just short of embracing me. “I’d give you a hug, but I’m a little afraid of your gun.”

That makes me grin. Mr. Duncan was always a bit of a liberal, hippy type. Not someone you’d imagine toting a gun. More like hugging a tree.

“Is this your partner?” Mr. Duncan indicates Cody.

“This is Officer Jackson,” I tell him. “Officer Jackson, this is Mr. Duncan.”

Cody gives him a polite nod.

“I know this is short notice. Things have been a little hectic this week. The Assistant Band Director had a family emergency and quit. It’s horrible timing, two weeks before our spring recital. We’ve been scrambling to find someone to work with the string quartet. They’ve still got a lot of practicing to do before they’ll be ready to perform.”

“Hadley mentioned there was a problem.”

“I’ve asked every music teacher in town to fill in, but everyone is booked up. After school hours is their busy time. Most of them don’t have any time to spare.”

“What time do they rehearse?” Cody asks.

Mr. Duncan and I look equally surprised by his question.

“After school,” Mr. Duncan says cautiously. “Four thirty to six thirty.”

“Our shift ends at three,” he says. “I could help out.”

Mr. Duncan’s blue eyes narrow. “Are you a music teacher?”

“I didn’t finish my student teaching, so I’m not certified. But I do have a degree in Music Education.”

My jaw drops. Cody did have quite a number of instruments crammed into his small bedroom. And he does seem to be a little obsessed with music. But a music teacher? He never mentioned anything about it. He never mentioned much about his personal life at all.

Of course I never asked either.

“That would be great,” Mr. Duncan says, although he doesn’t sound too sure about it.

If the school is that desperate to find someone, even if Cody isn’t a great teacher he’s probably better than nothing.

“I’ll let the band director, Mr. Julien, know that I’ve found someone. Could you meet with him after school today?”

Cody nods.

Mr. Duncan turns his attention to me. “Now about career night. Can I count on you to give a talk about the life of a police officer?”

As uncomfortable as I am about the prospect of getting up in front of several hundred teens to speak, I’d look like a jerk if I said no. Especially after Cody just volunteered to work with the string quartet.

“Of course,” I tell Mr. Duncan. “Anything for you and the students.”

He gives me another one of his winning smiles. “Thank you so much.”

I have to admit that even after all these years I still have a bit of a crush on Mr. Duncan. I’m sure I’m not alone either. There’s probably not a girl I went to high school with who doesn’t still get a little giddy thinking about him.

When he says, “We’ll talk again soon,” I take that as my cue to leave.

As Cody and I make our way down the hallway a bell rings. The hallway is immediately flooded with students headed for their next classes.

They look so young and I’m immediately reminded of how old I’m getting. When I was in high school I thought thirty was ancient. Now that I’m creeping towards my third decade, much more quickly than I’d like, thirty still seems young.

“Hadley,” I call when I see my sister in the distance.

She gives me a less than enthusiastic wave.

Cody follows as I make my way over to her.

“I don’t have much time to talk,” she says. “I’ve got to get to class.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I talked with Mr. Duncan.”

“Good. Now maybe he’ll get off my back about it.”

“And you now have someone working with the string quartet.”

She frowns. “Who?”

I point to Cody. “Officer Jackson volunteered.”

“A cop is going to direct the quartet?” She rolls her eyes. “Great.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” I tell her even though I’m not really sure at all.

“Our performance is going to suck. Just like everything else about senior year.”

Before I have a chance to respond Hadley disappears down the hallway.

“Sorry about that,” I tell Cody.

“Typical teenager.”

When we get back to the patrol car I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me you got a degree in Music Education?”

“You never asked.”

“That’s not some random thing someone thinks to ask. You told me you were in the military.”

He nods. “I was. For eight years. Then I put the GI Bill to good use and went to college.”

“But you didn’t finish your student teaching? Did you just quit? Who does that?”

He stares straight ahead and doesn’t respond.

Typical.

He clams up whenever the conversation gets difficult.

Before I have a chance to probe any further we get a call on the radio. A shoplifter at the Mini-Market.

By the time we arrive at the store there’s a small crowd gathered out front. It takes a few moments to determine exactly what’s going on.

“I’m the manager,” a tall man with a bushy mustache says. He’s holding the arm of an old woman wearing a much heavier jacket than the weather requires.

It’s not unusual for someone trying to steal merchandise to wear large sweatshirts or jackets even when it’s hot outside.