* *
Dispatched by Sean Cavanaugh, Dirk Bogart peered into the lab, looking for the woman he’d been told by his boss to fetch.
Spotting her at the far end of the room, Bogart smiled as he called out, “Put your papers aside, Suzie Q. We’ve got a live one. Or rather,” he corrected with a grin that went from ear to ear, “a dead one. Boss man says to tell you that you’re up. I’ll drive.”
The words came out like rapid gunfire, one after another, barely allowing Suzie to absorb one sentence before Bogart had already moved on to the third.
Replaying the words a beat or so behind their actual lightning-fast delivery, Suzie nodded and grabbed the gear she personally packed and then repacked after each trip to a crime scene. Experience had taught her that anything else would already be in the car and ready to go.
Because she liked being in control of any situation she found herself in, Suzie preferred driving to the crime scene and she preferred to do that driving alone. But she knew that making waves, even little waves, put people off, and in this case she had to admit it really wasn’t worth it. She was careful to pick her battles and fought only those that really needed to be fought.
This was not one of them.
Although, she thought several minutes into the drive, she would have done a lot better on her own. If there was anything that Dirk liked better than the sound of his own voice, Suzie had a feeling it hadn’t been discovered yet.
The two-year CSI vet talked the entire way to the crime scene. He talked about the weather, the state of the country and how he was a thrill junky, which was why, he went on to tell her, he’d taken this job in the first place.
For the most part, Suzie managed to tune him out, and made appropriate noises that might have been taken as agreement only when it sounded as if he was ready to challenge her if she didn’t concur with his many stated opinions.
When Bogart finally brought the vehicle to a stop at what was clearly a roped-off area, Suzie was quick to get out of the car, clutching her crime scene case to her. She was glad to see that Sean was already on the scene.
Spotting him, she made a beeline for the man.
“I see we managed to get you away from your paperwork,” Sean observed pleasantly.
“Could we get me away from Bogart now, as well?”
The words just slipped out, surprising her as much as they obviously did Sean. Ordinarily, she wasn’t given to complaining and she could see that her request immediately registered with the man.
He laughed, an understanding look on his face. “Couldn’t stop talking, could he?”
Following her superior into the abandoned department store, Suzie shook her head. “Not for a second. I didn’t know a human being was capable of saying that many words a minute.”
Sean walked toward the taped-off area. “I thought that maybe being in your company, he’d pick up a few tips on how to be silent. Guess not,” he concluded philosophically. “Next time, you can ride with me.”
“I think I’d really like that.” She tried to sound neutral about it, but didn’t quite succeed. She heard the older man laugh again.
“He’ll hit his stride, given enough time,” Sean told her.
“What if that is his stride?” Suzie asked, far from comfortable with that thought.
“People transfer out of the department on occasion,” Sean answered, as if that was something that might give her hope. “The crime scene is right over there.” He pointed ahead of them.
Relieved that Bogart hadn’t caught up to them with the rest of the equipment yet, Suzie hurried closer to Sean.
“Do we know anything yet?” she asked, assuming that whoever had called the crime into their division had given a few details.
“Only that apparently Aurora has a whole nightlife I know nothing about,” said a man who walked up behind them. “According to the two kids who found the body, there are supposedly decadent ‘floating’ parties being thrown in abandoned, high-end buildings all through Southern California.”
Sean nodded, taking the scene in. “Anything else, Chris?”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” the newcomer replied. That was when his voice finally struck a familiar chord for her and Suzie turned around.
About to say something else to his uncle, Chris could only stare at the young woman who had come in with Sean. Recognition came, riding a thunderbolt, in less than a heartbeat.
The woman from last night’s party.
The one he hadn’t been able to get to first base with.
First base? Hell, he didn’t even get to pick up the bat to begin to play the game. Their entire interaction had consisted of a great many back-and-forth exchanges that had passed as banter, at least to his ear. Looking back, he realized that it might not have necessarily seemed that way to her.
As a matter of fact, since she had disappeared the way she had, he was sure of it.
Yet here she was, standing in front of him, looking very different in the light of day—and yet enticingly the same, except that she was wearing jeans and a jacket instead of the clinging cocktail dress she’d worn last night.
“You,” Chris stated.
A great deal was inferred in that single word. It spoke of the party she’d attended and the time he’d spent attempting to get to know her. It spoke of his bewilderment when he’d turned away just for a moment, only to find her gone. He’d scanned the area, trying to find her, before he finally gave up and moved on.
Moving on had ultimately proved more fruitful, which was why he was so tired this morning.
Tired, but far from satisfied.
He had to get it into his head that he wasn’t eighteen anymore, Chris told himself, and that any all-nighters he pulled had to be centered around work, not partying.
“Me,” Suzie replied with a smile, neither her expression nor her voice giving anything away.
For all Chris knew, it could be just an automatic response. Except that it was her, the woman who had, like a very old song had once said, drawn him from across a crowded room. He was sure of it.
Sean looked from his nephew to the young woman he felt had all the earmarks of becoming his best investigator, once whatever baggage she was secretly carrying was unpacked and put away. “You two know one another?” he asked, interested. It certainly sounded that way to him.
Chris was the first to speak up. “Apparently not,” he admitted, thinking of the way last night had gone and the vanishing act she had pulled. He’d waited around before ultimately moving on, but his mystery woman never made a reappearance. He’d just assumed she had left the club. “But not for lack of trying,” he added significantly, still looking at the woman who had come in with his uncle. From the way she was dressed, she was obviously part of the department. Something else that hadn’t come up last night.
