Free In Bed With the Badge by Marie Ferrarella Page B

He wasn’t one of those people who felt everyone had to plow their own row. Sharing often sped things along.
    “No forced entry. People are in the house, asleep,” he recited. There had been four people in the house rather than just a married couple, but the basic factswere the same. “The robbers tie them up, then use chloroform on them so that they can escape without worrying about the police being summoned immediately. The garlic, though, is new,” he allowed, shifting his foot back onto the accelerator.
    She nodded. “You might consider going back to the first victims and asking about that detail.”
    “Why?” He saw no reason for something so trivial. “The robber probably ate something for dinner that had garlic in it. Even if he does that on a regular basis, it’s not exactly something we can use.”
    “No, but what if it isn’t because of something he eats?” she suggested. She saw she had his attention and went on. “Maybe when he sweats, he smells like garlic. I knew a kid in elementary school who was like that,” she told him. It had been years since she’d thought of Joel Mayfield. “The kids made fun of him all the time. The sad thing was, the more fun they made of him, the worse it got.”
    He’d never been one to be singled out and picked on, nor had he ever picked on anyone, not even to be part of a group. Ever for the underdog, he hated people who did that.
    “What happened to him?” he asked.
    She thought a minute, then remembered. “His parents moved when he was ten.” After that, she never heard about him again. No one she knew even wanted to stay in touch with Joel. “By now, he’s either some wealthy millionaire, obsessively working his way into a fortune to show up all those kids who tormented him. Or he’s a serial killer.”
    He nodded, understanding her reasoning. It was always people on the fringe of society that surprised the rest of the people. “For everyone’s sake, I hope it’s the former.”
    “Yeah.” And then, remembering, Riley glanced at her watch. She took out her cell phone.
    “Who are you calling?” he asked, making a right at the end of the next block.
    She didn’t answer him. The phone on the other end of the line was already ringing. “Hi, it’s just me, Riley. I’m calling to check how everything’s going. Uh-huh. Terrific. You know where to find me if you need to. Thanks. ’Bye.” Closing the cell phone, she leaned slightly to the left to tuck it back into her pocket. She looked at him and smiled. “By the way, your daughter’s doing fine.”
    His daughter.
    God, he’d forgotten about her again. How long was it going to take for him to get used to the idea of having a child? Of being a parent? He had no answer for that.
    “My daughter,” he said out loud. “Do you have any idea how odd that sounds?”
    “Probably as odd as having a dad seems to her,” she speculated. “The only difference is Lisa will probably adjust to the concept very quickly. The same can’t be said for you.”
    He spared her a glance, then took another right. He didn’t like being typecast this way, even if there was more than a grain of truth in what she said.
    “Just what makes you so certain you know me so well?” After all, they hadn’t really seen each other since the academy.
    “I don’t,” she admitted. “It’s just a calculated guess on my part because you’re a grown-up compared to her not being one. Kids are the resilient ones in this setup.” She scanned the area. This didn’t look familiar to her. “We on our way back to the precinct?”
    “Nope.”
    Was he going to make her drag it out of him? “Then where?”
    Obviously, the answer was yes. “Since you think you know me so well, you tell me.”
    She shook her head. She didn’t like games. “You’re losing the points you just gained.”
    “And what points would those be?”
    “The points you got for sticking up for Mrs. Wilson when her husband started coming down on her.”
    That