“I need a functioning partner more.”
“If I’d woken you, we’d both be cranky and tired now.”
“And that’s bad because?” George brushed another soft kiss on his forehead.
“Because we’re meeting Savalle and DeCapristo today, and if we’re both unstable, the chances of a serious fallout increase. I need you to be calm and collected.”
“And if I thought for one second that was your motivation, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
And there it was again, Andi’s old insecurities raising their ugly heads, and George tackling them head-on because that was what his lover did.
“Andi, dear, I know you have a hard time believing me but trust my words. You’re not a burden. You’re my joy.”
Andi sighed deeply. “On an intellectual level, I know this, George. It’s my subconscious that needs convincing. Over thirty years of conditioning don’t vanish overnight.” It was hard to admit, even to the man he came to love more each day. Theoretically, Andi was aware that showing vulnerability in a relationship was better than not doing it. Practically speaking, it felt like somebody was cutting his belly open with a blunt knife.
“It’s fine, dear. We have all the time in the world because I’m not going anywhere. Promise me, next time you have a difficult night, you wake me up, yeah?”
“I can’t promise that.” The pill bugs communicated a flare in George’s electric fields before the subtle stiffening of his lover’s body registered through the change in pressure on the mattress conveyed to him by the mites. “What I can promise is that I’ll remember this conversation and that I’m going to do my best to overcome my reservations.”
It wasn’t entirely what George wanted to hear, and Andi could tell from his expression alone without needing his tiny spies to give him additional input. But they both knew it was all Andi could give at the moment, and George would take it because what choice did he have? He pressed another kiss on Andi’s forehead.
“Come on, get in the shower. We’re meeting Randy in,” he glanced at his watch, “forty minutes.”
Andi groaned but got up. A shower wouldn’t be nearly enough to wake him up—he just knew it.
Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to the café where they would meet Kaustrowitz, a golden retriever in human form. The rookie officer was already waiting for them at a table in front of the café, a little to the side to grant them more privacy. George veered off to Randy while Andi went inside to get their breakfast. Given the choice between making polite small talk with Randy, who they needed and therefore couldn’t alienate with Andi’s gruff temper, and simply growling out his order to a barista who saw worse every day on their morning shift, his preference was clear. The biggest rush was already over, and it took only ten minutes until Andi could carry his plain bagel and peppermint tea and George’s coffee with soy milk and a full-wheat protein sandwich outside where Randy was talking animatedly to George.
“…and then he just ran. Like there weren’t five police officers standing around. Of course he was caught immediately, and he seemed genuinely surprised.”
“It’s hard to tell how people react when they’re amped up on adrenaline,” George mused with a smile.
“I can see that now.” Randy shrugged and took a sip of his—Andi wasn’t sure what unholy concoction the young officer was drinking. There was cream and syrup involved. Even to his eyes, it looked like death by sugar overload. Again, Andi was impressed by his lover’s iron self-control. George didn’t flinch when Randy licked a hint of cream off his upper lip.
“Hi, Andi. It’s nice to see you.”
“Yeah. You too.” Andi sat down next to George, staring at his bagel in an attempt to make clear how much he didn’t want to talk. Randy got the hint. It was obvious the rookie had a brilliant career ahead of him. He turned back to George.
“So, I talked to the neighbors of Suzie Monahan and Isabelle Hopper. None of them had anything interesting to say. Those who had been there when Suzie was killed by the fire ants only got involved after they heard her screams, same for Isabelle. The neighbors who were there came when they heard the porch collapsing.” He turned the pages of his small, cheap notebook with the faux leather binding. “Talking to the neighbors of Rosalie Byrnes was definitely more interesting. They had nothing good to say about Jagger Thomasin. According to most of them, he was involved in shady dealings, selling drugs, and hanging out with the wrong people. Everybody I talked to said Rosalie deserved someone better. She’s well-liked in the apartment building.”
“And?” George cocked his head. Randy had yet to learn to control his facial expressions. He looked like a five-year-old about to tell his friends where the sweets were stashed.
“One neighbor in particular was very forthcoming. A Mrs. Tanaka? She’s on the same floor as Rosalie and watches her daughter, Tammy, when Rosalie needs somebody. She says Tammy is the sweetest child and didn’t deserve living with Jagger, who, in her words, was a worthless piece of gomi. Trash. She also told me that both Rosalie and Tammy sometimes had bruises. Rosalie tried to hide them with makeup, always saying she’d been clumsy. You know.” Randy paused. Domestic violence was a difficult and heartbreaking topic for every officer of the law. Until a victim was ready to walk away, there was usually little that could be done. And more often than not, when something could be done, it was too late. It seemed Rosalie and Tammy had been incredibly lucky.
“Tammy, on the other hand, always told Mrs. Tanaka everything. How Jagger hurt her and Rosalie, and how she could hear her mother crying in her bedroom. To quote Mrs. Tanaka, Tammy said he was evil, and she wanted him gone.”
George looked at Andi. “Understandable. Anything else?”
Randy sighed. “I’m afraid not. I haven’t gotten hold of Celeste Higgins yet, the librarian who sometimes looks after Tammy when there’s an issue with her daycare or Mrs. Tanaka has no time. I’ve managed to get an appointment with her on Monday. Apparently, she was out of town visiting a friend for the last week.”
“Okay, good work, Randy. Contact us if you find out anything new.” George patted the young officer’s shoulder across the small table. Randy beamed.
“I will.” He looked at the watch on his wrist and stood. “I’m sorry. I have to go now.”
“It’s fine. Have a good day!”
“Thank you! You as well!” Randy strode away from the café with the purposeful air of somebody young enough not to have his naivete crushed by real life. Andi almost felt pity because as a police officer, this positive outlook on everything couldn’t last. Or perhaps he was just a cynical bastard.
“How good can a day be when it involves a meeting with Chief Savalle and Agent DeCapristo?” Andi picked the last crumbs of his bagel from the plate.
