Chapter Four
Sam
My phone rings from the table on my side of the bed. Grabbing it with eyes closed, I swipe the screen, and put it to my ear. “Hello?”
“I want you in my office, now, young lady.” In my father’s mind, I never aged past seventeen and if anyone ever needed proof, his tone this morning would be it.
“Ah... Huh?” I squint at the time as dreams wrestle with reality.Is there really a kangaroo in the lobby?
“The mayor wants to suspend your license.” Dad’s words act like a bucket of ice water to my brain and the marsupial bounces away.
However, the Batmobile roars to life as I drop into the front seat. “It seems to me the leader of the whole of Gotham City should have better things to do than check my parking tickets. It was only one time.”
“What? Samantha. Wake up. I’m talking about your detective’s license.” A vision of my dad’s red face pops into my mind, a few gray cells fire, and I open my eyes.
“What?”Suds and Samhasn’t done anything remotely illegal… recently.
His heavy sigh crackles in the distorted connection. “My sergeant said one of his men complained. He claims you interfered in his investigation.”
My husband stirs beside me so I speak more softly. “Look at the pictures on my disc. It was a murderstagedto look like a suicide. Someone killed that dealer. I know the difference between a regular gunshot and one where a silencer was used.”
“They have witnesses who say differently.”
“I know what I heard.”I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. “You do remember I worked for the FBI.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck. It’s for NYPD to investigate, not you. Understand? You’re not a Fed any longer. Even if you were, I’d tell you to back off.”
“But Daddy…”
“No honey. Not this time. If you stay with this, I can’t protect you.”
“Can you at least retrieve my camera card? It has this month’s rent on it.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Promise me, you’ll drop this case.”
I cross my fingers. “Sure, Daddy. I will.”
When I hang up, Suds opens his eyes and stirs. “Your nose is growing.”
I cuddle back down into his arms and close my eyes. As I fall back asleep, the kangaroo returns, scolding me as he writes a ticket for parking in front of a hydrant. Then, lost in City Hall, I open about a million doors, trying to pay the damn fine.
“Wakey-wakey.” Sometime later, Suds’ voice puts an end to the weird dream.
“Urg.” My heavy lids lift and as I rise onto my forearms, I inhale the sweet perfume of ground coffee.
On the floor below, Suds holds forth a mug and I lean over to grab it between the railings. The sight of my sexy husband’s abs wakes me enough to sit and check out the window. Judging from the length of the shadows, I’m really late for work.
“Shit. What time is it? My alarm didn’t go off.”
Suds wanders to the spiral staircase. “I called your aunt and told her you’d have some spicy tidbits to share with the ladies. Rose just announced it on the website. Apparently, you can have the day off as long as you share all your news tomorrow.”
“Oh my fucking God.” I stick my head under my pillow and while he chuckles, I consider quitting the part-time job.
As always, common sense wins out. My aunt’s hair salon is a prime source of income. Those blue haired grannies know who’s filing for divorce before the ink is dry.
Yawning, I kick away the tangled sheets and open a drawer. My first decision of the day is to pair my softest blue jeans with one of Suds’ old t-shirts.
Once I arrive downstairs, I wrap my arms around his waist and nibble his upper back. “Good morning.”
