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Jeff Combs pulled the car to a stop in front of the brick colonial, and checked in the rear view mirror. Twelve-year-old Melinda sat with her arms crossed, red curls a jumble as she turned away to stare through the passenger window. Her lower lip pooched out, and high color on pudgy cheeks offered silent testament to the angry set of her shoulders. She looked so much like his wife, Cassie—ex-wife, he corrected himself—with a temper to match.
His eyes met William’s serious expression, and the nine-year-old shrugged and leaned to pat his sister on the arm. Melinda jerked away from her younger brother’s comfort, and her lip trembled with the effort not to cry.
The divorce had blindsided them all, but hit Melinda particularly hard. While William was a glass-half-full kind of kid and forgave pretty much anything, Melinda held each disappointment tight to her heart, taking it personally when life proved unfair. In that, she took after him, (Lord help her) and these days nothing seemed fair.
The custody arrangement gave him the kids for the two weeks leading up to Christmas. That would have worked out great except his leave of absence was cut short when Detective Kimberlane Doty took a new job in Chicago. His former partner’s defection left a hole the department wanted to fill fast. Ironic that Doty not only got him busted from Detective down to beat cop, but her departure gave him back his ranking sooner than he could have hoped. He couldn’t say no, the opportunity wouldn’t come again anytime soon.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and strained to turn around, and tapped Melinda on her knee. “I’m sorry. I’m disappointed, too. But I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
Hell, the sulky tone even sounded like Cassie.
“It’s okay, Dad. Like you said, we’ll make it up with an outrageous New Year’s celebration.” William addressed the words to Jeff, but pointed them at his sister. Always the peacekeeper. Like his grandma, God rest her soul.
Jeff blinked hard at that thought. This would be the first Christmas without Mom, and the first year after the divorce. Melinda had a right to be a cranky-pants, and he’d like to join her. But sadly, he had to be the adult. He sighed and opened the car door. “C’mon, troupes, I gotta get to work. Your mom’s expecting us.” In fact, he’d seen the curtains twitch and appreciated Cassie giving him time for private goodbyes before beckoning from the door.
The kids unlatched their seatbelts, grappled backpacks from the floor (a pink kitty-theme for Melinda, and the latest super-hero-du-jour for William), and tumbled out of the car. Melinda slammed her door extra hard and stomped toward the house, but William ran to Jeff’s open window for their traditional “man-hug” and knuckle-bump. “Go get some bad guys, Daddy.”
“You got it, champ.” Jeff called hopefully after Melinda’s back. “Hugs?”
She paused, hand on the doorknob, and glanced back. The scowl slipped, and she dropped the backpack and took a half step down the steps, tremulous smile fighting to blossom. Then Cassie opened the door. And the moment passed.
Melinda grabbed the backpack and shoved past her mother through the door, quickly followed by William. Jeff held out his hands, palms up, and shrugged, but Cassie said nothing. The door swung closed, blocking off the view of the sumptuous hardwood entry and formal appointments her new husband could provide.
“Happy holidays to you, too.” He rolled up the window, threw the car into gear and left tire treads on the brick drive that Cassie’s husband, Rick-the-Prick would pay someone to scrub clean. He scowled. Petty? Sure, but he had to take his pleasures where he could.
Forty minutes later, Jeff shook hands with his new partner, Detective Winston Gonzales, and his shoulders relaxed. He could have been partnered with anyone, even one of the cronies who still blamed him for the department’s black eye that had led to his demotion a year ago. Maybe his luck had changed.
Gonzales smiled past his carefully trimmed black mustache, handshake firm, tidy suit and tie matching the studied assessment as he met Jeff’s eyes. He sported a big dog attitude despite his small stature, and Jeff recognized his ability to face down most opposition with a steady stare, like a Chihuahua besting a Doberman on its home turf.
“Deja vu. You look a whole lot better than the last time I saw you.” Gonzales led the way to desk space on the far wall. “You still on that diet of caffeine and cookies?”
“Don’t knock it till you tried it. Sleep is highly over-rated. Trying to measure up to Doty’s standards.” Combs pulled out the rolling chair in front of the bare desk where the blond Amazon used to work. “How ironic is that? Both of us partnered with her until she takes credit for the bust, and moves on to greener pastures. So to speak.”
Gonzales snorted, and shed his suit coat, hanging it carefully on the back of his chair. “From where I sit, you measure up just fine. Doty is what she is. Let her take the credit. Got you back in the saddle, didn’t it?” He planted his narrow butt on his own chair and trundled back and forth, his version of a hamster burning energy on a wheel.
They’d briefly worked together last month to investigate Jeff’s mother’s murder. When Doty froze him out, Gonzales at least met him halfway despite the rumors around the department. The younger man treated Doty with the respect reserved for a more experienced partner, but everyone in the department knew she maneuvered for high profile cases to help her climb the career ladder.
Gonzales cared as much or more about justice for the victims as he did clearing a case. That reason alone was enough for Combs to like the younger man. He envied Gonzales’s ability to capitalize on the good and ignore the bad of the job—a glass-half-full kind of guy.
There it was again, he needed to be more like his son William and new partner Gonzales. Maybe that would balance out his own innate pessimism and suspicious nature. But it took a lot to balance getting kicked in the balls by your peers, wife leaving you, and kids’ disappointment.
“Here’s the current cases.” Gonzales shoved the stack of files on his own desk closer to the edge and watched Combs cage the first one from the top of the pile.
Before he could give more than a cursory read, a shadow fell over the desk. Combs stood quickly and held out his hand. “Thanks for the opportunity, Captain.” He had to raise his face to meet the towering man’s flint-gray eyes.
“We needed to fill the hole. I trust you won’t step in a big ol’ pile of stink this time?” Captain Felix Gregory crunched the offered hand, dropped it and addressed both detectives. He nodded at the pile of cases. “That can wait. We’ve got a body.”
