The Winter Quintet
AUTHOR: Lucky.
DISCLAIMER: Except for the creations of the author, all characters, characterizations, situations, and locations described in this unsolicited and not-for-profit work of fiction are the property of ABC Television, Capitol Cities, Inc., Steven Bochco Productions, the many talented people who created the world of NYPD Blue, and the actors who have made that world such a lively place. The author would also like to extend her personal gratitude to Mr. Scott Cohen for his light, his vitality, his inspiration, and for being such a compelling muse. Thank you, sir.
FEEDBACK: To Lucky
Diane took her shower, sending Harry in after her, and ambled around the apartment, cleaning up the breakfast things and tidying up a little. Listening to the sound of the shower and just knowing the presence of the man in it filled her with the homey warmth of being alone and not alone at once.
I haven't felt this right in a long time.
Presently, from outside her thoughts, she realized that she was hearing music. She stopped, pricking her ears up to listen, then had to chuckle and shake her head when she finally figured out what she was listening to.
You know, most guys just sing old Eagles songs in the shower...
Apparently, Harry preferred Bizet.
"L'amour est un enfant rebelle
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser,
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle,
S'il lui convient de refuser.
Rien n'y fait, menace ou pri�re,
L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait;
Et c'est l'autre que je pr�f�re..."
She hummed the tune along with him, making a mental note to ask him about the words he was singing when he got out of the shower. After ten more minutes or so, she heard the water cut out and predicted the next thing she'd hear out of him.
She counted all the way to seventeen before he called to her through the bathroom door. "My possessions have taken leave of me in my absence."
"Your clothes are in the wash."
Slight pause. "Isn't that what I said?"
"Just be glad I knew what you were talking about because I have no idea what the hell you said." Her reply started out loud enough for him to hear her and ran off in an exasperated grumble.
Her bathroom teased her again. "You have to speak up, Diane. It doesn't work when I can't hear the smartass part."
"I said you talk too much!" she hollered, hearing him snort with laughter. "Your clothes should be clean pretty soon."
"Are they in the washer or the dryer?"
"Washer. Harry, you've only been in the shower for twenty minutes."
"I fail to see how forty five minutes qualifies as 'pretty soon'."
"Forty five? Where did you get that number?"
She heard his weight come up against the door as he leaned on it from the other side. "Well, assuming that you absconded with my clothing when I first got in the shower, the average wash cycle on a well- maintained machine is about twenty minutes. As I have been in here for twenty minutes, I'm assuming that my clothes are ready to be dried. The average drying time for a load of laundry is approximately forty five minutes."
"One oxford, one pair of men's dress slacks, two socks and a pair of boxers isn't a load."
She heard him sigh and mutter to himself, "Never argue realities with a pragmatist."
"All of this could have been avoided by just asking me if I had anything you could put on while you waited."
The bathroom door gave a disapproving little cluck. "Where's the sportsmanship in that?"
"Fine, you wanna sit naked in my bathroom for the next twenty minutes, we can do that, too."
"What makes you think that's the only other option, Diane?" The knob on the bathroom door made a suspicious little noise.
She took a few light steps over and gripped the knob, just to keep him from turning it.
"Or you could come in. That would work just as well."
She sighed. "I'm not going in and you're not coming out."
"So we have a hostage situation." She heard his fingertips come down the inside of the door. "Fitting."
"Denby..." she flapped her mouth for a second, finally giving up with a groan. "God, you can be so aggravating."
The door creaked again as he leaned on it. "Okay, then let me ask you this. If you know you have something for me to wear, and you know I don't want to stand around naked in your bathroom for the next twenty minutes, and if I'm so aggravating to you... why are you still playing with me?" He listened to her silence for a moment, then continued in a silky tone. "All of this could have been over before it even started if you had left whatever you have for me to wear in place of my clothing in the first place."
"Dammit, Denby..."
"You enjoy this. Admit it. You always enjoyed this. It's why you kept coming back to me."
She turned her head away for a moment, then gave the door a sharp kick, hoping like hell he'd take it as a hint to back up. Then she tossed the bathroom door wide open with a push hard enough to bang it into the wall.
Harry, to his credit, merely folded his arms and looked at her.
She watched him for a second, then said, "You certainly aren't shy, are you?"
"Not with you."
She blinked a few times, realizing what he was telling her.
Realizing that she wanted to tell him, too.
She pulled off her tee shirt. Watching him carefully, she saw interest, but no threat. He seemed prepared to wait for her. She opened her jeans and slid out of them, leaving them in a pile on top of her shirt. As she came out of her bra and panties, he gathered a sharp breath, but still made no move toward her.
Finally, the pair of them stood, unfettered and unshielded, facing each other as they were made to. There was no job, no secrets, no partners, no pasts, and no amends. There was her and there was him and that was all.
She lifted a hand to him. "No more playing. It's just us, now."
He slid his hand into hers and stepped up against her, almost touching, not quite. "Just us." He took her mouth, lifting his hand as if to touch her, caressing the air over her skin.
She broke his kiss, panting a little. "I won't... I won't break." She glanced at his hand hovering over her shoulder, then looked up into his eyes. "Touch me."
He looked away, casting his eyes down over her, whispering. "You're so perfect."
"Harry," She placed a gentle finger under his chin, lifting his gaze to hers. "I'm just like you." He accepted her words, looking for all the world like he could never believe them. She traced her fingertips over his lips. "Touch me..." she whispered. "I want you to."
He pulled her in with a bright, hot force, running her body down the length of his, moving like a man who'd just had all his dreams come true. He made her fall like rain and she let him, flooding whatever space there ever was between them. Through the pounding of her blood and the swirl of her senses, she heard his voice over her, around her, inside her.
Where he is doesn't matter anymore. He's with me. That's all that matters, now.
"I love you."
"No, no, no... come here."
"Harry, I can't!"
"Come on... one more."
"I've got ice cream coming out of my ears already!"
All of Diane's bedding lay in a pile on her clean little kitchen floor, courtesy of Harry Denby's adventurous sexuality, and there he sat, kneeling over her with a half empty half gallon carton of chocolate ice cream in one hand and a spoonful of it in the other, trying to sweet talk her into letting him feed it to her. In its entirety.
He pouted at her for a second, then directed the spoon into his own mouth, pointing it at her once he'd emptied it. "You're too thin."
She gave him a sigh and biffed him with one of her pillows. "Yeah, I'll bet you say that to every girl."
He giggled and pushed at his messy hair with the back of his wrist, still holding the spoon. "I'm serious! You just look so..." He stretched up to put the ice cream and spoon up on the counter over his head, thinking.
"I look so what? Full of ice cream?"
He gave her a sigh, bringing his body down around her and placing sticky little kisses on her mouth. "No. You look so delicate... like a little glass hummingbird." Harry searched her eyes, then suddenly broke into a bright grin. "Although I've never heard a hummingbird scream quite so loud."
She laughed, putting her hands into his hair and pulling his head around a little. "Harry!"
"I fully expect to be chased from your building by villagers with torches for making you screech like that."
She wound her arms around his neck, straddling his thighs comfortably. "Not before you get the chance to do it again."
He nuzzled at her, his low chuckle vibrating through her body. "Your wish... is my wildest fantasy."
She kissed him, tasting the last traces of chocolate in his mouth, sliding her body around his as he pressed her back to the floor. She forgot all about her too-full belly in her excitement, just knowing that he was going to love her.
Again.
Just as both of the little human motors on the kitchen floor began to run in concert and fill the apartment with music, the sourest note Diane had ever heard blared out. She sighed heavily and pressed at Harry's shoulders, pulling him away from her mouth.
"Get up."
He whined, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. "Oh, no... No, honey. Let the machine get it."
"There is no machine."
He drew himself up on his elbow and stared at her. "What year is it on your home planet?"
"Just get off me so I can get the phone."
He shook his head at her and rolled away, watching her pull herself to her feet. "You're too thin!" he called after her, earning himself a middle finger. Harry shook his head again and stood up, wrapping a sheet around his shoulders.
Diane picked up the phone just in time to be wrapped up in the sheet with him and pressed close along his body. She put the phone to her ear and leaned back against his shoulder. "Hello?"
"This is Lieutenant Masters in Narcotics. I was told that Detective Denby was with you, Detective Russell. Any way I could speak to him?" He sounded like he was either just getting over being pissed or just about to get pissed.
Diane cleared her throat quickly, not wanting to talk to a superior officer through a love induced haze. "Yes, sir. I'll see if he's available."
"No," Harry murmured gently, nipping at her neck, answering her before she could even tell him who was calling. "I am utterly indisposed at the moment."
Diane rolled her eyes and covered the mouthpiece. "It's Lieutenant Masters."
He sighed and plucked the phone from her hand, exchanging it for the corner of sheet he held. Diane amused herself by squirming against him as he tried to talk.
"Good morning, sir... Then good afternoon... No, I haven't." He pulled the mouthpiece away from his mouth long enough to plant a firm bite into her neck and she tried not to squeal aloud. "Yes, sir. I suppose I should sound quite happy... I'm not at liberty to say." He laughed. "No, I am being honest with you... Mm-hm... mm-hm... Anyway..." He was silent for several seconds, listening to whatever his lieu was saying and stifling excited little noises as Diane touched him. Suddenly, he fell still and drew a sharp breath.
"What?" The change in his voice was enough to pull Diane around to face him. He glanced down at her with worry in his eyes. "You can't possibly be serious... Yeah... yeah... What? Absolutely not." Harry began to get angry. "No, absolutely not!" Apparently, Masters told him to calm down, because he took a deep breath and tried to return his face to something approaching placidity. "Right... okay... okay. Yeah. What time did you say it was? Fine... yeah. By four. Right." He twisted and slammed the phone back on the hook, then turned back and buried his face against Diane's neck.
"What's going on, Harry?"
"Why didn't you tell me that your buddies were slapping Martin Skye around?"
"I didn't think it was... Harry, what's wrong?" She followed his face with her eyes as he rolled his head around and looked generally irritated.
"Nothing," he said flatly, dropping a kiss on her mouth and leaving her standing, wrapped in the sheet with herself. "Nothing's wrong. I just wish you would have said something, that's all."
"Harry, I'm sorry."
"No... no. You didn't know. You wouldn't have made the connection yourself." She watched him walk around and look like he was missing something for a moment, then, "Where the hell are my clothes?"
Diane couldn't keep the 'lady cop' from falling over her face as she walked through the living room and tossed open something that looked like a closet next to the bathroom door. A small but sufficient stacked laundry unit was nestled inside.
Harry didn't miss the drop in temperature. "Please don't let's do this again, Diane."
"No," she said, trying to sound breezy. "Don't worry about it, just... your clothes are in the one on top."
"Don't punish me for being angry, Diane."
His sad little voice caught her attention and she turned to face him. He stood, naked, solitary, colored like life in the light of day as it streamed in from behind him.
"You promised."
Dammit... She dropped the sheet and went to him. As he slipped his arms around her, she leaned back and looked up into his eyes. "Can we have an understanding, here?"
"Capricorn."
She wrinkled her nose at him in confusion and he chuckled. "I don't get it."
"Forget it. I get it enough." He ran his hands over her back and smiled. "Go put some clothes on."
Diane fluttered her eyes and sighed heavily. As long as Harry's happy, I guess... "Okay." She pulled herself out of his arms and headed for her dresser.
He twisted to watch her for a moment, then went after his own clothing. "You're still too thin."
She had to laugh. "Shut up, Denby."
"I can't believe you let me drive."
"Yeah, well, I'm not compelled by a y-chromosome to treat my car like it was my firstborn child."
Harry laughed and pulled Diane's car into her customary spot in front of the station house. He took a quick look up at the window of her office and turned back to her with a wicked grin. "Stay put for a second, okay?"
"O-o-kay," she replied warily, not entirely sure of his suddenly playful mood.
He slung the driver's side door open and circled the car, carefully avoiding looking at the building. He popped her door open and offered her his hand. She slid her hand into his and pulled herself out of the car using him for counterbalance.
"Danny's watching, isn't he?"
His eyes sparkled into hers. "Yep."
"You're lucky he doesn't come out here after you."
"He's lucky I don't bend you back over the car and take you right here."
She arched her brow delicately at him. "Which him?"
His dark little laugh trickled through her like warm honey and she regretted ever getting up off her kitchen floor in the first place.
"If we don't move soon, I'm gonna put you back in the car and call it a day, here."
She shook herself a little and put a hand into his chest. "Okay, Denby. Let's go."
"Lead on, Russell."
He stuffed his hands in his trenchcoat pockets and followed her across the street, trotting a little to pass her on the steps and hold the door for her.
She didn't miss the grin he tossed up at the office window before following her inside.
The argument was already happening before they even made it to the first landing.
"Look, it don't thrill me none either to see her with that creep, but she's got a right to make her own mistakes."
"It's not even that, Andy. He's just dirty. Even if he doesn't do anything, you know, physically with her, he's still gonna hurt her."
Harry caught Diane's elbow at the top of the stairs and pulled her to a stop.
"Harry, wh..?"
He put a finger to his lips. In the office, the argument continued.
"Danny, I know that you and Diane had your... your time together."
"Hey, you wanna keep your voice down? They're gonna be here in a second and I'm not an asshole like Denby."
Andy continued, quieter this time, but not quietly enough. "All I'm sayin' is that you can be her friend, but you gotta stop bein' her brother, okay?"
"Yeah, Andy," but he didn't sound like he agreed at all. "Sure."
Out in the hall, Harry brushed Diane's hair away from her ear and whispered close enough to give her chills.
"Know thy enemy." She looked up at him with wide eyes, but he only gestured towards the office with his chin and smiled.
She shook her head and turned around, taking the few last steps into the office. Danny's head snapped up.
"Diane."
"Hey, Danny... Andy."
"Morning," Andy grumped sarcastically.
"It's a... it's a real mess outside, isn't it?" Diane fumbled a little, feeling like she had something to hide.
"True, that," Danny agreed, nodding vigorously. "You make the drive okay?"
"Yeah," Diane replied, shrugging her coat off and draping it over the back of her chair. "Harry drove, so..." She trailed off, feeling suddenly under fire. She stole a glance back across the office. Harry still stood on the other side of the low gate, as yet uninvited, exchanging odd looking glances with John.
"Um..." Danny said, clearing his throat and dipping his fingers into his paperclip dish. "Greg and D are out on a shooting at the Hyatt. Looks like a drug deal gone wrong, but nobody's sayin' nothin' yet."
Diane glanced into Fancy's office. "I see Lieu isn't here yet either."
"Says he can't get his car started," Andy offered. "We're takin' bets as to where he'll be caught tossin' snowballs at his kids."
Diane managed a rusty chuckle. "Put me down for twenty in the Park."
Danny cracked a genuine grin. "Will do, Diane."
Harry cleared his throat.
Diane flapped her hand in his direction and then passed it back over her hair. "You guys have all met Detective Denby from Narcotics."
All nods, no words.
"Anyway, we're here because of some peddler you guys hauled in?"
Andy snapped his glasses over his face and picked up a file folder. He read the little pink slip paperclipped to the front. "Martin Skye. Collared making a deal with a cadet under cover on the corner a few blocks down from a public school."
"What was he selling?" Total silence followed Harry's quiet question.
Andy glared at him for a moment, then turned back to the file. "Black tar heroin. Said something about your buddy Don being his supplier."
Harry cupped a hand over his nose for a second, then turned on Andy. "Don Kirkendall, one, was a cocaine trafficker. He never had anything to do with black tar. Two, he was most certainly not my friend, and three, by all accounts, he's quite dead."
Andy pinned him. "You wouldn't happen to have anything to add to those accounts, would you?"
Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he'd just begun gathering his breath to bite back when Diane stopped him, driving her bootheel into the floor a few times. She caught his eyes and thought at him as hard as she could.
No fighting.
She could have sworn he pouted back at her.
Before anything else could happen, Lieutenant Ted Masters sauntered in and immediately clapped Harry on the shoulder, making him cringe a little.
"Harry... good, you made it in."
"As opposed to disobeying a direct order?" Harry muttered.
Masters ignored him, and Diane could only assume it was because he was used to Harry's smart mouth by now. Instead, the slick salt-and- pepper lieutenant addressed Andy. "Is Skye still in your interview room?"
"Yeah... his sister's with him."
Master's eyebrows jumped, but Diane barely noticed him. At his side, Harry had started to panic, covering his jaw and flapping his hand in his coat pocket.
Skye, Diane thought, trying to attach some significance to the name. Suddenly, her brain clicked in. Wait a minute...
Masters spoke again to Andy. "Are you sure that's proper procedure? Letting civilians sit in on an interview like that?"
"You wanna take them down to your end of the building?" Andy offered, taking off his glasses. "That's gonna be fine with me."
Masters smiled gently. "No. Everybody's here right now. We'll just get this one done." He turned and clapped Harry on the shoulder again. "Come on, Denby."
For a moment, Diane could read the "if you touch me again, I'll blow your brains out" on Harry's face, but his voice was calm as he spoke. "I need another pair of ears on this."
"For what?" Masters stared him down.
"Martin is likely to say things that need to be heard by more than you and me. I just don't want to spend another six months studying the logistical mechanics of industrial commerce."
Masters stared at him for a second, then chuckled lightly, clapping him on the shoulder again. "Fine, Harry. Pick your poison and meet me in the interview room." He walked away.
Diane was moving before Harry even turned to look at her, avoiding everyone else's eyes. As she came up to him, she put her hand up and brushed gently at the shoulder that Masters had abused. Looking up into his eyes, she could almost hear his voice in her mind.
I love you.
She smiled at him and turned away, hearing his footsteps behind her as she walked down to the interview room.
The door was open and Masters stood at the far end. At the table, a relatively young pair of people sat with their heads down, talking rapidly to one another. As Diane and Harry entered, both heads snapped up.
Yeah, that's her. Seated beside her brother Martin was Lauren Skye. Her black roots were gone and she looked like she'd showered in the last twelve hours this time, but she was quite a bit more pregnant that the last time Diane had seen her. About seven months worth.
Martin came to his feet, shrieking like an injured animal and jabbing a finger through the air at Harry. "You flaming prick!" He lowered the finger to his sister. "Who do you think you are that you can knock up my sister and leave me holding the bag for her support?!" He started to come around the table at Harry, but Masters grabbed his arm. As it was, Martin continued to scream. "This is all your fault, Denby, and I'm gonna take your badge and shove it so far up your ass you'll be chewing shrapnel for a week!"
While all this was going on, Diane was fixed on Lauren. She'd kept her head down throughout Martin's tirade, but she was either completely insane, way too confident in her brother's ability to capture attention, or just plain stupid.
She was smiling.
She screwed someone over, but it sure as hell wasn't Harry.
"Lieutenant Masters," Diane started, addressing him completely. "Would it be alright if Detective Denby and I... dealt with this alone for a minute?" Behind her, Harry gave a start.
Masters looked at her for a moment, then nodded, pushing Martin down roughly in his chair. "You want, you take." He stepped around the table and headed for the door.
Diane didn't miss that Harry made a break to the left for the sake of his shoulder.
"Call me when you've heard enough." Masters walked out, swinging the door shut behind him.
Martin came out of his chair again. "I swear to god, Denby..."
"Oh, shut the fuck up, you little weasel!" Harry hollered, cutting him off and shrugging his trenchcoat from his shoulders. "You're not impressing me." He tossed his coat onto the file cabinet beside him and came forward, leaning his fists on the table. "Who the hell do you think you are to drag me out of my bed and away from my girl and through a damn blizzard to call me names? You must have balls the size of Volkswagens to think I'm gonna let you pin your stupidity on me."
"This ain't about me, Denby," Martin hissed. "It's about you and what you did."
"And what's that?"
"Lauren, asshole, that's what!"
"She says her kid is mine?"
"Yeah."
Harry laughed in his face. "And you believe her? How many times do I have to smack you around before you get some sense in your head? She gets pissed at me 'cause I get out of her game, she runs to you and you just go off like Howdy Doody with her hand stuck up your ass!"
"Don't talk about my sister that way, limpdick."
Harry pumped his index finger into the tabletop, punctuating his words as he spoke. "Your sister is a crack whore. When are you gonna figure that out? That kid's probably got ten eyes and two fingers from all the shit she's been pumpin' into it."
Lauren piped up in her drug-ravaged rattle. "Who the hell do you think you're talking about?"
Harry turned on her, giving her an evil grin. "You."
"And who's baby do you think this is?"
"Whoever gave you your last fix."
"No, no, baby," Lauren drawled, trying to match his manner. "This kid's yours and you know it."
Harry straightened up, tossing his head back with a sigh. "Lying is so unattractive." He folded his arms and cocked his head at her. "Do you think I'm brain dead over here? I'm the only one who didn't fuck you for a favor... and now you're gonna fuck me? Unreal! Absolutely unbelievable."
Diane finally finished thinking and turning the story in her head and broke in. "Okay, wait a minute." She sat down at the table beside where Harry stood and addressed Martin. "You're trying to say that you're dealing drugs to support your pregnant sister, and that your sister is pregnant because of Harry, right?"
"Yeah. That's exactly what's going on," Martin replied, nodding. "And I'm not gonna get screwed over because he can't bring himself to be man enough to take care of his responsibilities. Business or otherwise."
"You son of a bitch," Harry growled at him, leaning over Diane's shoulder. "Why don't you get a job, mastermind?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa..." Diane put her hand up into Harry's chest, pushing him back. "Slow down." Harry stepped back, hissing and boiling. "Okay. Harry?"
"Yes." As mad as she knew he was, the quiet respect in his voice when he spoke to her was obvious.
"You say Lauren's baby isn't yours."
"Impossible."
"Why?"
"Because I never had sex with her."
Diane was forced to shake her head in order to get that piece of information into it. Behind her, Harry blew out another hissing sigh. After a few quiet seconds, Diane ran both hands up into her hair and left them there, as if she were trying to hold her brain in.
"Oh, Harry," she murmured quietly. "What the hell have you done to yourself?"
In front of Diane, Lauren gave a little snort. "Lying is so unattractive."
Diane brought a hand down to level a finger at her. "You shut up. You're probably too hopped up right now to realize, but I was watching you during your brother's little talent show tryout when we first got here. Next time you visit The Actor's Studio, you might want to brush up how to project contrition, because it's not a half- assed smirk."
Lauren paled by several shades.
Diane watched her shift her body around in the chair for a moment, then spoke off a sudden hunch. "Empty your pockets."
"What?"
Diane heard her name come quietly from behind her, but she just shook her head. "Capricorn. Empty your pockets."
That's what he meant earlier. I always look for the worst, but that's what got me my shield.
Lauren was visibly shaken, but protested anyway. "No way. You can't make me do that. Tell her, Harry."
"Have you noticed where you are, punkin'?" Harry asked.
Diane twisted around to stare at him, then back at Lauren. "You let him call you that? That's disgusting. No wonder you're a crack whore. Empty your pockets."
Lauren shook her head.
Diane leaned across the table at her. "Empty your pockets or I'll have them emptied for you."
"I just wanna say right now that the only reason I came down here was to bail Marty out," Lauren whined.
"Nice to know that family is important to you. Empty your pockets."
Lauren heaved a trembling sigh and dumped the contents of her purse on the interview table.
Surveying the scene over Diane's shoulder, Harry fairly chortled. "Hoo boy... you've really stepped up a notch, haven't you, Laur?"
The pile, along with various and sundry nonessentials, contained no less than three needles, all used, a glass pipe, also used, and, just from a surface scan, four little bags of white powder.
"There's more," Lauren muttered miserably, "but I'd have to take my shirt off."
"Oh, I think we have more than enough here." Diane twisted to look up at Harry. "Think so, Detective?"
"I think we can make a solid collar here, Detective," he replied, trying to fight back his grin.
"What about me?" Martin said. Diane looked up at him. His face was so red, she wondered how he didn't just explode.
"What about you?"
"I'm the whole reason everyone's here right now."
"I'm sure you're proud of yourself, too," Diane bit back. "All I want to know from you is how Don Kirkendall's name happened to come out of your mouth. Aside from that, if she came here to post your bail, we can't stop her. Once that's done, we can't keep you."
Martin folded his arms and tried to look as cocky as someone who'd been lied to by his own sister could. "Laur told me about Don and Denby being in business together. I know Don's dead, but I figured his name would be the best way to get Denby involved."
Before Diane could stop him, Harry walked around the table, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "For the last time..." He slammed his wallet down in front of Martin, open and badge up. He leaned down, planting one hand on the table and one hand on the back of Martin's chair, speaking slowly and in a near bellow directly into his face.
"I am a police officer. I don't know and I don't care what Don told you, but you need to listen to me right now. I'm a cop. Don was a job. Regardless of my concern for his children or his wife, Don Kirkendall was nothing but a paycheck to me, just like you, just like your crack whore sister over there, and just like the next pile of smack-peddling dogshit that comes in here. I am a cop and this is my job."
Diane felt like applauding. ... and that's why I love you.
But Harry wasn't quite done yet. "And for you..." He released Martin's chair and circled to where Lauren sat, lowering himself to her eye level and taking her hand in his. His voice went from the shout he'd offered her brother to a teasing, musical lilt as he spoke to the young woman. "If I had ever made love to you, it wouldn't have mattered to you what uniform I was in. You would have never... ever... let me out of your sight... ever... again." He set her hand back down on the table, patting it gently and giving her a sweet smile. "Have fun in prison, punkin'."
Lauren watched him stand up and walk away from her with wide, flat, blue eyes, her gaze falling on Diane's somewhat unprofessional smile, as he placed himself where he started, standing just off Diane's shoulder. Carefully, Harry plucked at a few of her more unruly burgundy curls, laying them gently back down among the rest.
You're damn cute, but don't think you've gotten away with it just yet, Diane thought at him as he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Detective Denby?"
"Yes?"
"Could you show these two out?" She turned to look up into his triumphant smile.
"Your wish..." He left his thought unfinished as he walked to the door and out of the interview room. She'd just barely had a chance to push herself away from the table and stand when he came back with four uniformed officers.
Detective Denby began issuing orders. "Take this one," he pointed at Lauren, "down to holding and start working her up for..." he waved his hand at the pile on the table, "this mess. That one," he pointed at Martin, "is having bail posted for him. Take him down to the clerk's counter and acquaint him with the magazine rack."
The officers carried out his orders, and the tallest one asked, "Who's posting bail on the guy?"
"The girl."
The four officers grumbled with low laughter. "We'll show him the coffee pot while we're at it, Detective," the tall cop quipped.
"That's why they call you the finest." Harry folded his arms and watched the room empty down to two with satisfaction. Then he turned, fielding Diane's rather suspicious look. "What?"
"You owe me an explanation."
"I owe you more than that," he replied, coming toe to toe with her and dropping his arms to his sides. "What do I owe you an explanation of?"
Diane shook her head. "Don't play dumb with me, Harry."
"I'm not playing dumb. I'm playing omnipotent prick. I should think you'd know the difference by now."
"They bear a striking similarity."
"Only to the unrefined palate."
"You never slept with that woman?"
"What brand of slime do you take me for?"
"The generic brand. Did you sleep with her?"
"No. I may have had a death wish, but certainly not for a slow one. That poor girl is a walking infection."
"And the sister?"
"What sister?"
"Enough said."
Harry grinned and slid his fingers around hers. "You're catching on, angel."
She returned his grin. "If you're lucky, I might let you buy me dinner tonight so you can explain to me just what I'm catching on to." She tried to step past him, but he blocked her path, still holding onto her hand.
"A compelling offer, Detective Capricorn... but tell me something first."
"What?"
"Do you believe me?"
She looked up into his eyes again. In the dimming afternoon light of the interview room, they ran deep and sheltered, like the soft mist of pure jade, with the gentle promise of waiting secrets.
Secrets that were ready to be found.
"Always."
Continued in Part 5.
