Split Second
Page 103
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“What a lovely thought. Only thing is, I really hate fishing.”
“I’ll do all the dirty work for you, not to worry.”
She grinned against him, and he felt it. She leaned up to look down at him. “I know a couple of wives married to cops, and they’re always stewing about danger, and I’ve seen the fear of something happening to their husbands come to define their marriage.”
“The reason for so much divorce,” Savich said.
“At least both of us are together, to help each other, to look out for each other. I think we’re right where we need to be, Dillon, as long as we feel we make a difference.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I hope we do make a difference.”
She sprawled again against him. “Dillon, do you think Coop and Lucy are sleeping together? I mean, they do remind me a bit of us, and look where that led.”
“They don’t dislike each other any longer, that’s for sure.”
“And it’s you who put them together because they weren’t getting along. Coop’s reputation—I guess that isn’t a problem any longer. Now it’s like a red beacon glowing whenever the two of them get within six feet of each other.”
“I never believed his reputation, anyway,” Savich said. “It didn’t fit the man.”
Sherlock sighed. “This whole ring-and-letter business—at least she did tell Coop about the letter, so that’s no longer a big secret.”
He said, “It’s driving me nuts trying to figure out what the blasted ring can do. How could it have saved Lucy’s mother? If it could have, somehow, then it’s something miraculous, I know it in my gut. But what?”
She said, “That word—SEFYLL—it means to stop, to be stationary, right? What does that mean? What stops?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe it’ll come out.”
“Maybe, but I don’t hold out much hope. Lucy’s a clam, and maybe she has to be—or maybe she’s supposed to be.”
“If they get married, do you think they can stay in the unit together?”
“That’ll be up to the director and Mr. Maitland. I’d have no problem with it. It would be pretty weird if I did.”
“Can you imagine the jokes? We’d be known as the dating service of the bureau.” She added, “I forget to tell you, I got a call from Dane before I came up to sing a bedtime duet with Sean. Dane thinks he’s got a bead on the guy who may have driven the other white van. He’s betting his name’s Andrew ‘Hoss’ Kennen, a twotime felon, spent time in Briarwood with the dead guy, Ben Eddy Dukes. The two of them got paroled about the same time.”
Savich heard her voice slow, knew she was about ready to hang it up. So was he.
He kissed her, said against her temple, “I heard the weather’s going to be great tomorrow. Why don’t we ask Coop and Lucy to go to the park with us tomorrow morning.”
“That’d be good,” Sherlock murmured, tucked herself closer, and went to sleep.
CHAPTER 58
Delaney Park
Saturday morning
Savich flicked the Frisbee to Sean, who yelled as he caught it, then whipped it off to Coop, who, surprised, had to back up ten feet to snag it out of the air.
Lucy whistled. “Great throw, Sean. You had Coop on his heels.”
“Looks like another champion Frisbee player,” Sherlock said, and promptly dropped the Frisbee Coop sailed to her.
“Mama, you dropped it! We’ve got to start over!”
Sherlock apologized, promised to pay attention, and sent the Frisbee toward Lucy. They got into a nice steady rhythm until it was Sean’s turn to miss one. He picked up the Frisbee, hugged it to his chest, and did a little dance. “I dropped it, but it doesn’t matter. We broke the record. Twenty-one catches without dropping it. I counted real careful, Mama. Marty won’t believe it. You’ll tell her it was twenty-one times, won’t you?”
“Yep, I swear.”
Marty Perry wouldn’t be happy, she thought, ruffling her son’s dark hair and smiling into his glowing face.
At least the weatherman hadn’t lied—it was a lovely morning, bright sunshine, the temperature hugging sixty. Another dozen Frisbee throws and all of them would be tossing off their jackets. The small meadow in the park was empty except for the five of them. Soon, though, Sherlock knew, more families would show up, excited kids in tow, and the Frisbee circle would steadily grow larger as Sean, always ready to make new friends, invited kids and parents to join until it was a zoo. The adults would then diplomatically excuse themselves so it was a kids-only Frisbee fest.
“I’ll do all the dirty work for you, not to worry.”
She grinned against him, and he felt it. She leaned up to look down at him. “I know a couple of wives married to cops, and they’re always stewing about danger, and I’ve seen the fear of something happening to their husbands come to define their marriage.”
“The reason for so much divorce,” Savich said.
“At least both of us are together, to help each other, to look out for each other. I think we’re right where we need to be, Dillon, as long as we feel we make a difference.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I hope we do make a difference.”
She sprawled again against him. “Dillon, do you think Coop and Lucy are sleeping together? I mean, they do remind me a bit of us, and look where that led.”
“They don’t dislike each other any longer, that’s for sure.”
“And it’s you who put them together because they weren’t getting along. Coop’s reputation—I guess that isn’t a problem any longer. Now it’s like a red beacon glowing whenever the two of them get within six feet of each other.”
“I never believed his reputation, anyway,” Savich said. “It didn’t fit the man.”
Sherlock sighed. “This whole ring-and-letter business—at least she did tell Coop about the letter, so that’s no longer a big secret.”
He said, “It’s driving me nuts trying to figure out what the blasted ring can do. How could it have saved Lucy’s mother? If it could have, somehow, then it’s something miraculous, I know it in my gut. But what?”
She said, “That word—SEFYLL—it means to stop, to be stationary, right? What does that mean? What stops?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe it’ll come out.”
“Maybe, but I don’t hold out much hope. Lucy’s a clam, and maybe she has to be—or maybe she’s supposed to be.”
“If they get married, do you think they can stay in the unit together?”
“That’ll be up to the director and Mr. Maitland. I’d have no problem with it. It would be pretty weird if I did.”
“Can you imagine the jokes? We’d be known as the dating service of the bureau.” She added, “I forget to tell you, I got a call from Dane before I came up to sing a bedtime duet with Sean. Dane thinks he’s got a bead on the guy who may have driven the other white van. He’s betting his name’s Andrew ‘Hoss’ Kennen, a twotime felon, spent time in Briarwood with the dead guy, Ben Eddy Dukes. The two of them got paroled about the same time.”
Savich heard her voice slow, knew she was about ready to hang it up. So was he.
He kissed her, said against her temple, “I heard the weather’s going to be great tomorrow. Why don’t we ask Coop and Lucy to go to the park with us tomorrow morning.”
“That’d be good,” Sherlock murmured, tucked herself closer, and went to sleep.
CHAPTER 58
Delaney Park
Saturday morning
Savich flicked the Frisbee to Sean, who yelled as he caught it, then whipped it off to Coop, who, surprised, had to back up ten feet to snag it out of the air.
Lucy whistled. “Great throw, Sean. You had Coop on his heels.”
“Looks like another champion Frisbee player,” Sherlock said, and promptly dropped the Frisbee Coop sailed to her.
“Mama, you dropped it! We’ve got to start over!”
Sherlock apologized, promised to pay attention, and sent the Frisbee toward Lucy. They got into a nice steady rhythm until it was Sean’s turn to miss one. He picked up the Frisbee, hugged it to his chest, and did a little dance. “I dropped it, but it doesn’t matter. We broke the record. Twenty-one catches without dropping it. I counted real careful, Mama. Marty won’t believe it. You’ll tell her it was twenty-one times, won’t you?”
“Yep, I swear.”
Marty Perry wouldn’t be happy, she thought, ruffling her son’s dark hair and smiling into his glowing face.
At least the weatherman hadn’t lied—it was a lovely morning, bright sunshine, the temperature hugging sixty. Another dozen Frisbee throws and all of them would be tossing off their jackets. The small meadow in the park was empty except for the five of them. Soon, though, Sherlock knew, more families would show up, excited kids in tow, and the Frisbee circle would steadily grow larger as Sean, always ready to make new friends, invited kids and parents to join until it was a zoo. The adults would then diplomatically excuse themselves so it was a kids-only Frisbee fest.
