Free B00BSH8JUC EBOK by Celia Cohen

a look of blue steel.
    It had its effect on Jaws. She had that sweaty glaze that comes when all you can think about is calling your lawyer.
    Randie’s eyes did a slow scan of Jaws, taking in the broad shoulders and the big hands and the athlete’s build that no clothes could civilize. Randie’s search was so thorough, she should have had a warrant.
    “Hey, Lieutenant,” I said. “This is Jaws.”
    “Kotter, considering the circumstances, you might as well call me ‘Randie’ when you’re in the house.”
    That sure surprised me. Someday I would figure Randie out, but now was not the time. The last thing   I expected from her was this Officer Friendly routine.
    Jaws was disarmed. Her natural cockiness returned, and she smiled at Randie. Personally, I thought it was a little premature to be feeling comfortable, and I decided to keep my mouth shut as much as I possibly could. After all, I hadn’t even gotten through the introductions without being thrown for a loop.
    “Have a seat, you guys,” Randie said.
    Jaws and I sat on the sofa at a polite courting distance. We didn’t touch.
    Randie and Jaws had a lot of mutual friends through Randie’s involvement with the Police Softball League and Jaws’ college softball team. They had a very pleasant conversation going until Randie paused, suddenly thoughtful, and said, “So tell me, Jaws, whatever were you thinking when you took a high school student into the towel room and sexually exploited her?”
    Jaws gasped. She turned so stone still, she forgot to breathe. Randie got up and stood in front of her.
    “Well?” Randie demanded.
    “I—it—it was mutual,” Jaws croaked.
    “Mutual? It’s mutual when you find a kid fooling around with her friends and turn it into such a big deal that she fears for her academic standing, her future and her family life if she doesn’t do exactly what you say? It’s mutual when you order her into her gym clothes and lock her in a room where you have an absolute hold over her? Is that what you call mutual?”
    “Oh my God,” Jaws said hoarsely.
    “You can tell the school district it was mutual. You can tell your college adviser it was mutual. You can tell Kotter’s parents it was mutual.”
    “Lieutenant, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything you say. I swear to God I’ll never touch her again.”
    Randie chuckled. “No need. Fortunately for you, Jaws, it was mutual,” she said mildly. “Come here, Kotter.” She put me in front of her, both of us facing Jaws, and wrapped her arms around me protectively. “Kotter’s the baddest kid I know, but she’s going to be a good cop, and I’m not going to let anything interfere with that. So listen up, Jaws. Kotter has got to spend more time at the station again, and you two have got to stop doing it in public places. Understood?”
    “Yes, Lieutenant.”
    Randie’s infernal chuckle came again. “I thought you all were going to call me Randie.”
    “The problem is, you keep acting like a lieutenant,” I said, which was a very brave thing to do, considering that Randie had me folded against her. All she did, though, was give me an affectionate squeeze. I wasn’t the villain tonight.
    Julie was waiting patiently to serve dinner, so we moved our discussion to the table. She had prepared her usual masterpiece—the stroganoff and a vegetable medley and some homemade bread that came from the oven, not from one of those tinker-toy breadmakers.
    “After we finish dinner, Julie and I are taking you two out,” Randie said. “Have you ever heard of the Hollies?”
    We hadn’t. Randie smiled and explained. It was a discreet retreat snuggled into the foothills out past the Buena Vista Country Club. If you didn’t know where it was, you’d never find it.
    A discerning clientele liked it that way. Patrons could escape to its finely furnished rooms, small gourmet restaurant, bar with walk-in fireplace, mountain trails and nightly live music that was always soft, urgent and