Chapter 13

Michelle tossed the wrapper to her hamburger in the trash with a flick of her wrist. Then she scattered the rest of her fries on the ground for the birds and the squirrels and sipped on her chocolate shake. The sun was hot on her bare shoulders, the breeze cool on her cheeks. She actually felt better, almost human again.

Nick was sitting next to her, drowning french fries in ketchup and munching on them.

"So," he started, keeping his tone of voice light despite the feeling of dread he couldn't quite bury.

"So, what?" She reached out and rescued one of his fries from the red ocean of ketchup and nibbled on it.

"You still going to respect me when I'm soaping bumpers at the car wash?" He bit into the exposed end of the fry she held and chewed then swallowed.

"Who says I respect you now?" she quipped, watching a squirrel chasing another around a tree. The park was quiet, what little kids had been here when they arrived were gone, probably home taking naps. The older kids preferred the park downtown where the toys were cooler. They had the place to themselves besides an amorous couple that was making out in a car in the parking lot. They had been there when Nick and Michelle had gotten to the park twenty minutes ago, and were still there now. They had yet to come up for air.

Nick followed her gaze. "Maybe we should go and show em our badges?" he asked lazily. "Nah, too much work," he answered himself and stretched out, folding up his leftovers to dump in the trashcan.

"Just a couple of teenagers. I wonder what they'll do come this winter?"

"What do all teenagers do in the winter, run the heater." He turned around on the picnic bench, leaning against the table, staring out across what was now just a little more than a stream but in the spring could flood the entire park.

He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sun letting the heat burn the cobwebs back. This had been the best medicine for him, sunshine had recuperative powers, his mother had always told him. She had gardened in the summer, a huge straw hat protecting her face. She would take him out, show him the different plants and insects. He would help her with weeding, work beside her contentedly, until his father came home from work.

He had wonderful memories of his mother. Extremely cherished memories and a few photos that had escaped the fire. His parents had died just a few weeks after the fire that had taken everything they had. It was a car accident that had taken them from him. He had been in the car too and had broken an arm but had been unhurt otherwise. They'd been killed instantly when the drunk swerved across the yellow line and hit them head on.

Summer would always remind him of her.

"So," Michelle said.

"So, what?" he asked, distractedly.

"So if you are soaping bumpers, who's gonna run the investigation?" She didn't pull punches. "Maybe you should just go to this meeting, kiss a little ass and keep the spot as primary?"

"Kiss the Sheriff's fat ass?"

She flinched back from expected temper. She could hear the disdain in his voice. The disbelief that she would even make the suggestion.

"You must be more tired than I thought if you think I know how to do that." He sneered the words, looking down at her.

"Just hear me out, Nick." She put her hand on his arm, wanting to touch him even if she knew she shouldn't. "Don't you think if you soothed the Sheriff's wounded ego a little, he would keep you on the case. You might have to deal with a task force, but I know you've done that before. You are the best man here, the only one with the experience to locate and arrest this killer." She stroked her hand down his arm, pausing to let it rest on his forearm. "Would it be that difficult?" She looked up at him through her lashes, her fingers caressing his soft shirt.

"And you would get to stay out of uniform and working the case," he stated.

She pulled back, lifting her hand off his arm like it was on fire and glared at him, affronted. "Do you really think that is the only reason that I want you to stay on the case? Because, if it is, you don't know me as well as I thought you did." She started to get up but he put his hand on hers, holding her where she was.

"No, I don't believe that you even think of yourself at all in any of this." He entwined his fingers through hers, pulling her closer to him. "Look at you, you are barely walking, you've slept what, maybe ten hours all week? And you've never asked for anything from me." He paused, then added, "Well, nothing but a chocolate shake. Oh, and that thing last night, you know, where you wanted me to..."

She slugged him in the stomach with their entwined hands. "I'm gonna start thinking you're as big a pig as Jimmy Benitti if you don't watch it."

He rubbed her hand across his muscled stomach grimacing at the comparison. He was much better looking then Jimmy Benitti and smarter. She laughed when he told her so.

They spent another half an hour at the park, sitting in the swings, Michelle laughing at the way Nick's long legs seemed to come up to his chin in the low seat. They didn't talk about the case, this was their time to get away, to regroup.

It ended too soon. Nick looked at his watch, his face clouding up.

"We should get back. I have to get everything together to take it in to the Sheriff's office." He was quiet, thinking about options.

She reached down and grabbed the edge of the seat that he sat on, yanking so that it dumped him in the sand. He looked up at her, blinking dumbly.

"What the hell was that for?"

She could have laughed at the outrage in his voice.

"It was one way to get you to quit thinking and start moving." She danced out of his reach, his fingertips just brushing the hem of her jeans. She grabbed her jacket off the picnic table and started running for his car, laughing when he scooped her up from behind.

"Is this moving fast enough for you, Chelle?" he asked. He stood looking around as if deciding what to do with her. He looked at the stream and smiled. She saw the direction of that smile and started struggling.

"Oh no, don't you even think about it, Nick. That water is disgusting and cold." She screeched when he took a step in that direction.

He dropped her legs and let her slide down his body until she touched the ground. But he didn't let her go. Instead he just held her for a moment, close. She leaned into him, her arms going around his back, under his. He dropped a kiss on the top of her hair.

"Want me to drop you off at home?" he asked, dropping his arms and turning her in the direction of his car.

"Why would you do that? I have a meeting to go to at four. Gotta go and protect my boss from the big, bad Sheriff." She made a face at him.

He snorted. "Like I want you there to see me get raked over the coals." He pointed the automatic lock button at the door and punched it, turning to look at her. "I think you look awake enough to drive if you want me to just drop you off at your car." He grunted, unprepared for her fist in his stomach.

"Hey, police brutality," he wheezed. "What the hell was that for?"

"You ask that question a lot. That," she emphasized the word, "was for being a stubborn jerk." She opened her door and got in, closing it behind her.

He stood in the parking lot, rubbing his stomach and looking at her in bemusement. Finally he got into the driver's seat and turned to glare at her. "Why am I getting hit this time?"

"Are we going or staying, cuz if we are staying, you could either turn on the air conditioner or open the windows." She looked out hers, noting that the amorous kids had finally decided to leave the park.

He turned the key, turning the air conditioning on high to dispel the heat in the car. Then he shifted in his seat and crossed his arms. "Well?" he demanded.

"You're being an ass," she stated. "An egotistical, arrogant, no good at nothing but feeling sorry for himself, ass."

His mouth dropped open.

She almost purred in satisfaction at his reaction and decided to move in for the kill.

"You ply me with fantastic pizza and juicy murders to get me to open up about myself, Chinese food and demented notes to get me to go to bed with you and chocolate milk shakes and autopsy reports to get me to be a good girl and go home," she poked a finger in his chest, "not to the meeting where I should be as your partner on this case." She dug the finger a little deeper. "If you consider me your equal, that's where I should be. Not at home like the little woman who needs to be pampered and protected." She sighed in disgust. "Now, can we get going. I have some work of my own to do before that meeting."

He just sat there, not moving. Did she really think that?

"Do you really think that?"

The hurt in his voice brought a tiny wave of disgust at herself. She tried to tell herself to be strong otherwise he would never treat her as an equal, he would always feel like he had to protect her.

She couldn't do it. "I want to be your partner on this case, Nick. I know you are my superior, but I'm as involved as you are. Shouldn't the Sheriff be looking to ream me too?"

"Just that thought turns my stomach," he sighed, rubbing his already abused stomach. "Okay, you want the bad with the good, right?"

She nodded.

"Then be ready to be reamed at four sharp, partner."

She beamed at him.

He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and kissed her, hard at first then softer as she leaned into him. "Does being partners mean I can do this when I want?" he whispered against her lips.

"Nope," she whispered back. She kissed him. "Only when we both want to, Nick. Now drive." She sat back when he put the car in gear. "I do get points for letting you drive and not saying anything about the white hair that I can feel changing from my blonde, right?"

"You know, you might just deserve that dunking in the river." He glared at her for a second as she sat there and smirked. The he drove back to the station, staying at the speed limit and in his own lane the entire trip.

The next two hours were spent copying files, compiling notes, finishing the profile they had started. The phone rang constantly, the lab calling, the desk sergeant calling, finally the victim's parents calling from the morgue to set up an appointment. Ten minutes before the meeting, the phone rang again. He answered it and then hung up.

"We've been summoned."

The Sheriff's office was on the second story in the back of the building. They trudged up the worn carpeted stairs. Nick carried his briefcase, the files they had made sitting snugly inside.

Before opening the outside office door, Michelle took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, pushed her hair back behind her shoulders and straightened her back. Nick looked down at her and smiled.

"Ready, Chelle?" he asked, winking at her.

"Ass," she answered back, pinching his rear end as she walked by him.