Calls at 4:30 a.m. never brought good news. Former homicide detective Steve Smiley thought about ignoring it. If it had been almost anyone else, a recorded message would be their punishment. But this was Leo, and at this hour it wasn’t a social call. The conversation lasted only long enough to make an appointment for a pre-dawn breakfast.
April Fool’s Day and Houston’s sky played a joke on the entire city. Steve heard rain splatter against the car’s roof, windshield, and on the window by his head. No wonder the Uber driver was surly. He cursed the rain in some colorful, but unimaginative prose, and didn’t volunteer to act as guide to the door of the Denny’s on the frontage road of I45. As a result, Steve reached into the left pocket of his pants for a wad of five-dollar bills instead of in the right pocket, which held the twenties. After thinking about paying the man to help him inside, Steve thought better of it, and was soon glad he didn’t slip the man an extra twenty. Not only did the driver not volunteer to help his blind passenger, he parked far enough away from the curb to ensure both shoes suffered flood damage.
Steve tapped and sloshed his way to the shelter of the building. An exiting customer flung the door open as he felt for the handle.
“Hey, buddy. Watch where you’re going.”
Steve stumbled back but didn’t go down. “I’d love to watch where I’m going. Want to loan me your eyes?” He regretted the words the second they left his mouth. Self-pity had almost cost him his sanity, and it had no place in his life now. After all, he’d shown he could still solve murders, even if Houston P.D. had put him out to pasture.
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t see the cane. Do you need help?”
“No, thanks. I hope you have a raincoat or an umbrella.”
“Rain slicker and a hard hat.” An awkward three second pause followed. “I’m sorry I almost knocked you down.”
“No harm.” Steve extended his hand and received a grip from one of the thickest, strongest hands he’d ever shaken.
The next voice was almost as familiar as his own. It belonged to his former partner in Homicide, Leo Vega. “Any trouble, Steve?”
Steve knew by the tone of Leo’s voice he was an inch away from giving the man a truckload of grief. Two truckloads if Leo thought the man had anything smart to say. He also knew Leo’s blazer was unbuttoned and gapped open so the man could see Leo’s gun and the badge on his belt. The testy reaction confirmed Steve’s suspicion of something gnawing at Leo.
“No problems. This gentleman and I were discussing the weather, and speaking of, let’s get inside and let this hard-working man get to his first appointment.”
“Not my first,” said the man. “I’ve been up most of the night trying to keep the lights on for people.” A phone rang and the deep baritone voice answered with, “You’d better tell me it’s still working.” Driving rain muffled the reply. “Don’t touch a thing. I’m on my way.”
Leo placed Steve’s hand on his arm and led him to a booth. The smell of coffee and bacon mixed with the sweet smell of syrup wafted through the restaurant. Dishes rattled and clanked as muted conversations joined to give the restaurant the sound of fifty voices pushed through a car muffler.
The waitress arrived with a coffee pot and two cups, filling them both to the brim. “There you go, gents. I’ll be back in a few to take your order.”
Leo moved Steve’s cup. “Your coffee’s at ten o’clock.”
“Thanks. The next time you call wanting to meet, make it on a day Noah’s relatives aren’t building another ark.”
“The weather fits what’s going on.”
Steve took his first sip of morning coffee, followed it by three more, and settled his mug on the table. “I have all day. Start at the beginning.”
“You might have all day, but I don’t. They’re transferring me.”
“Congratulations or condolences?”
Leo let out a harsh laugh. “Condolences.”
Steve picked up his cup, brought the mug near his mouth, but spoke before he took another drink. “You’re not making sense. Perhaps you’re the one that needs coffee.”
“I’m fully caffeinated. My day started at 3:30.”
“Am I smelling departmental politics?”
“You guessed it. I’m being transferred to Cold Cases.”
Something between a groan and a growl came from Steve. “Who did you make mad?”
“No one that I know of. We have a new wonder-boy lieutenant with a row of fancy diplomas on the wall of his office. Let’s just say he has his own ideas of what a homicide detective should be, and it’s not anyone pushing fifty.” Leo heaved a sigh. “All I wanted to do was finish my time working in Homicide, get my kids out on their own, and find a beach somewhere.”
Steve scratched his chin. “Are you sure you didn’t make someone mad?”
“Nothing serious, but Wonder-Boy didn’t like it when I helped you with that last case you solved.”
“All you did was help Heather and me solve a murder. Why would he have a beef about that?”
“I did some of the work on departmental time. Also, the request for help didn’t come from a law enforcement agency. It didn’t fit into any of the boxes in his spreadsheet.”
Steve shook his head. “Ahh. He couldn’t take credit for work you did.”
“He said he values team players more than anything, and my working on a case without his knowledge or approval set a bad example for the younger detectives.”
Steve leaned back in the booth. “It’s people like him that make me glad I work outside all the red tape. I’m sorry you’re being transferred, but I don’t know what I can do about it.”
Their server arrived to take orders, which delayed Leo’s response. Steve asked her to refill his coffee and ordered the Grand Slam, his usual. Leo surprised him by selecting from the heart healthy options and explained as soon as the server walked away. “If you ever remarry, don’t allow your wife to go with you for an annual physical. You’ll be eating oatmeal, nuts, and twigs for breakfast seven days a week.”
“When does the transfer take place?”
“Today, and I’m the April Fool’s joke. Lieutenant Chase waited until Captain Price was out for a knee replacement. There’s no telling how long he’s been looking to make changes.”
“Are you the only one?”
“Two others, all of us on the backside of our careers. Hank Jenkins is going with me to Cold Cases while Frank Harley gets to fly a desk at some new diversion program.”
“That’s a lot of experience to lose. I can’t believe the higher-ups are allowing it.”
“I was the only squeaky wheel. Hank and Frank are tired of getting calls in the middle of the night to go look at dead people. They both want to coast into retirement.” Leo blew out a full breath. “If I could afford it, I’d turn in my badge today.”
Steve gave his head a shake. “You know better than to base a decision like that on emotion. I’ll admit that Cold Cases doesn’t have the best reputation, but it might be a nice change of pace.” He took in a deep breath and raised the tone and tempo of his words. “At least you’ll still be working homicides. Who knows, they might give you a case that you can sink your teeth into and you’ll find you like the challenge of solving old cases.”
“Don’t talk about sinking teeth into anything when all I’m getting for breakfast is oatmeal, yogurt, and blueberries.”
Steve leaned forward. “I’ve always wanted to tackle a cold case, something that made a big splash years ago but left everyone stumped.”
“Do you want to take my place at work today?”
“I wish I could.” Steve snapped his fingers. “I have a wild idea. When you get your first case, let’s work it together.”
Leo hesitated. “I don’t know. I already got chewed out and transferred for working with you. If word gets out—”
“I won’t tell anyone. Will you?”
Leo laughed. “If I remember right, we never did put everything in the reports we turned in. I see no reason to start now.” He paused. “Are you sure you want to help solve a cold case? What about Heather?”
Steve waved off the question. “Heather’s up to her eyes working on a high-speed rail deal. We work on murder cases when clients bring them to us. We never said anything about cold cases.”
“You also realize there’s no money in this for you.”
“You’re forgetting how rich us pensioners are.”
Leo didn’t have a ready comeback to the joke, but he did have something else to say. “They expect us to solve cold cases from our desks. In at eight, out at five. Any travel is on my own dime.”
Steve lowered his voice. “You’re borrowing trouble. Scan and email everything in the file. We’ll put our heads together on how to proceed. If we solve the first case, I’ll buy you a proper breakfast. How does that sound?”
Leo tapped his fingers on the table. “Right now, I’d do almost anything for a stack of pancakes. Let’s try it.”