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JONESY

The crowd at Propagation was exceptionally lively, even though the space wasn’t large. I hoped that once Craig arrived, we could get served quickly, then head to his house for some much-needed stress relief. While I waited for him, I took in the bar's vibe. Among the many potted plants, it had an Asian feel, with red paper lanterns and large inverted paper umbrellas hanging from the ceiling. The dark wood complemented the greenery in different-sized planters placed strategically around the establishment.

I was always eager to try new venues, and a couple of the guys in the precinct had raved about the small-plate bites and low-sugar drinks. My initial thought was to take off my sports coat and drape it over the stool next to me to save it for Craig, but if I did, I’d expose my firearm holster strapped around my shoulders and the detective badge on my hip. I didn’t feel comfortable advertising that an officer of the law was seated at the bar, so I placed a cocktail menu on the stool instead.

The outside traffic noise increased slightly, and I glanced up from my phone to see Craig walk in the door. I watched him quietly stride across the room, his broad shoulders held high, and a smile that always gave my heart a jump start. He looked good, and it looked like he’d had a good day. My dick took notice.

Craig carried himself with confidence and poise, which sometimes made me feel insecure and distant. As a tough detective, I often intimidated others, partly because of my size and the constant scowl I wore. Years on the force shaped my tough exterior, and the brutal nature of my work made me adopt a stern ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude. But as he came up to me, I felt my armor fall away, and I stood as he gave me a hug that looked more ‘bro’ than affectionate. I knew he did that for my benefit since we were in public.

“Is that a gun you’re packin’, or are you happy to see me?” he asked softly and seductively as he pulled away.

“My gun is in my shoulder holster, but what’s between my legs is all for you,” I said with a huff, but not loud enough to be overheard.

He chuckled as he picked up the menu I’d placed on his stool and sat down. My eyes roamed his face, and it was all I could do not to kiss him. But my resolve around public displays of affection held me back, and I planned to attack the man once we were alone at his place.

“You look like you’ve been through a lot today,” he said with a slight pinch to his brow.

I did my best not to look so downtrodden. “Well, investigating the death of a young woman this morning and then seeing her laid out on an autopsy table, kinda sets the mood for the day.”

“Oh, Jesus,” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry.”

“The life of a homicide detective,” I flippantly offered.

Before we could continue, the bartender asked what we’d like to drink and if we’d be eating at the bar. Craig picked up the menu and said we would be, telling him we’d order food after we had our drinks. The bartender nodded, placed two glasses of water in front of us, and set off to make our cocktails.

“I’m going to stick to our after-work rule about chatting about how our day went. We each get ten minutes to vent, answer questions, and then we change the subject,” he proclaimed, picking up his water to take a sip.

“Best rule we ever agreed on,” I added.

“So…tell me about what homicide did today.”

I let out a heavy sigh. “Sean and I went to the scene of a murdered young woman first thing this morning. From what we deduced, it looked like a body dump.”

“Shit,” he replied. “Did you get any ID?”

“No. Sean and I visited the ME’s office today, and they’d just finished the autopsy. Seems she was strangled. The evidence was sent to forensics. What was odd was that she was still in a formal evening gown when we found her. I thought it might have been a date gone bad, but the ME said she hadn’t been sexually assaulted.”

The bartender arrived with our drinks and placed them on cocktail napkins in front of us. Mine was a double bourbon on the rocks. Craig chose his usual gin and tonic with a dash of elderflower liqueur. He said the sweet addition took the juniper bite out of it. We clinked glasses, and I watched him take a sip, closing his eyes as he hummed his approval.

Craig set his drink down and asked, “How long had she been dead?”

“The ME said sixteen to twenty hours,” I replied, after feeling the warm burn of the bourbon coat my throat as if making those hours wash away. I looked at my watch. “I have three minutes left of my turn, if you have any more questions.” I gave him a wry smile and a wink.

He looked away as he gently chewed his bottom lip. His gaze settled on his gin and tonic, and he slowly rotated his glass on his napkin with his thumb and forefinger. “What was Sean’s take?”

“He didn’t say much. You know he has a daughter the same age who recently moved to San Diego for a new job. He was visibly upset as we chatted with the ME, and was quiet all the way back to the precinct.”

“I bet he’s calling her tonight,” Craig replied solemnly, his eyes still glued to his drink.

“You can count on it. He said he was,” I murmured.

I shifted the tone of our serious conversation. I wanted to hear about his day, so I clapped my hands once to get his attention. “By the way, Sean and Lorraine expect us for dinner sometime once we figure out dates.”

“I’d love that. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen them. Sounds great.”

“Enough about my day, fill me in on yours, handsome.”