Yet here we are. I’d thought her note-taking on my every move in her little pink diary had been bad, but now she’s watching a recording of me flipping over the handlebars of my bike when I hit a rock. And she’s laughing.
I glare at Officer Harris. The whites of his eyes flash my direction in the darkness, so I know he sees me, but apparently my intimidation tactics don’t work on him anymore.
The video ends. The mirth continues.
Harris even has to wipe tears away. “That’s the best.”
It’s really not. “I would have preferred you use this recording as blackmail material, Harris.”
“So you could arrest me?”
“Absolutely.”
Gemma watches us with her chin resting on one palm like an enamored teenager. Though her infatuation can’t be with me. She could probably have any man she wanted. In fact, she’s got a couple of lookers on either side of her right now. Why isn’t she interested in them?
Oh. I nod. My uniform. She likes the power it represents, but she wouldn’t like the hours, risk, and public perception that come with it.
I’m a little surprised the bike-wreck video didn’t remove the hearts from her eyes. Especially with that moaning sound I couldn’t stop from making when I’d had the wind knocked out of me. Though maybe she sees the video as fodder, since she considers herself a writer.
Am I going to end up in one of her movies? The policeman who can’t ride a bike? She needs something actually impressive to inspire her.
“How about we show the class a clip I can enjoy too?” I suggest to my former partner. “You have any car chases uploaded from dash cams?”
Harris points the remote and clicks onto another recording. “You know it.”
A hush falls over our audience, which is then replaced by the sound of sirens. Aw, yeah. I relax a little at the sight of a MINI Cooper zipping around like a clown car. Bozo the Driver makes the mistake of turning down a dead end. When he notices he’s in a cul-de-sac, he whips around and tries to cut through a lawn but ends up hitting a tree. The footage shows patrol cars surrounding him, and the dark scene gets a little brighter from all the blue and red lights flashing. The suspect is barely out of his car when our men surround him. All in a good day’s work.
I cross my arms in satisfaction.
Officer Harris laughs and loads up a few more videos. He fields the questions as well.
I stand back and try to avoid eye contact with a certain playwright. In my peripheral vision, her face repeatedly turns my direction. I really hope nobody else notices. Namely Harris. He doesn’t need more to joke about.
Eventually Harris finishes up with Show and Tell, allowing me to flip the light switch. We all blink in the brightness. “If there are no more questions, we’re ready for our tour of the precinct.”
The dark-haired guy on Gemma’s left is the first to line up in front of me. Though we are pretty much standing face-to-face, he raises his hand. “Can we film the tour?”
“No.” It’s not that I don’t trust him—the guy is too direct to be able to lie about anything—but there are people out there I don’t trust. A lot of people I don’t trust. So I’d rather they not have video footage on the layout of my precinct.
Harris takes his place at the end of the line forming. He’ll bring up the rear to make sure no stragglers have the opportunity to cause problems. He expands on my simple answer. “While you can’t film, there will be a couple of areas where you can take photos. I’ll let you know.”
“Great.” The guy who’d asked the question waves for Gemma to join him. He even steps back to let her cut in front.
She squeezes between the two of us and smiles at me with clear blue eyes that I wish I could believe were as innocent as they looked.
But I catch the scent of coconut, as if she’s wearing sunblock because she just came from the beach. The beach on a workday?
Maybe her tan is natural after all. Not that it makes her vanity any more respectable.
I look past her to my former partner and current co-instructor. The sooner I can move, the better. “We ready?” Harris shouldn’t have any trouble with the end of the line today, because trouble is leading the pack.
The officer pauses in the multiple conversations he’s holding with the participants around him to wave me forward. “All set, boss.”
I do an about-face and take a deep breath of coconut-free air to cleanse my senses. This isn’t the first time I’ve had women in class want my attention. The good news is that it will only last the first four weeks, until the firefighters take over. After Gemma meets those rescue heroes, she’ll forget all about me.
I lead the way out of the briefing room and stop in the lobby by a gray bin that resembles a mail-collection box. “This is our drug disposal location. As it’s dangerous to flush or throw away medication, we offer a safe place for people to get rid of old prescriptions. No questions asked. It also helps prevent drug abuse.”
“Ooh …” Gemma acts as if this is the most interesting thing she’s ever heard, but maybe she just wanted an excuse to purse her dewy lips in my direction. Or maybe she’s got a prescription drug addiction she needs to kick. That would be one way to explain her disconnect with reality. Either way, I’m out.
