Free SK01 - Waist Deep by Frank Zafiro Page B

let out a small laugh, more at the look Phyllis gave her than the request itself.
    “No, hon,” Phyllis told her. “Nothing fancy here. Just coffee.”
    “Tea?”
    “Lipton.”
    Katie nodded. “I’ll have that.”
    Phyllis wrote a T on her notepad. “Eating today?”
    Katie shook her head. “Have to be in court at one.”
    Phyllis glanced at her watch and back at Katie, shrugged and walked away.
    Katie followed her departure with her eyes, then shifted them toward me. “Gee, you’d have thought I asked for something exotic instead of a simple latté .”
    I shrugged. “I think, for here, that is an exotic request.”
    “Welcome to the 21 st century , people,” Katie muttered.
    “It’s part of the charm of the place,” I said.
    Katie didn’t respond, but slid the manila folder across the table to me. I left it alone, not wanting to admit that things looked like they were going the route of “let’s pretend.”
    Let’s pretend I didn’t screw up on the job.
    Let’s pretend I didn’t completely blow any chance of us making a go of things.
    Let’s pretend that her giving me this information is no big deal, when we both knew she could get fired for it.
    I didn’t want to pretend. I wanted to tell her I was sorry. That I still cared for her. That maybe we could try again.
    Phyllis set down a cup of hot water in front of Katie and plopped a packaged teabag next to it. Katie nodded her thanks.
    Brown-Eyed Girl played over the radio. Katie had hazel eyes, but the song sparked a bittersweet sl ice of emotion through my belly anyway. I knew that I was kidding myself. What did I have to offer her? Dishonor? Poverty? And I’d already shown how capable I was of hurting her.
    I was acting like a fool.
    “So you’re doing private investigations now?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
    “No,” I said. “Just helping out a friend.”
    “Oh. Anybody I know?”
    I shook my head. “Guy I went to high school with.”
    “Fellow Stag?” she asked, teasing.
    It had been a point of ribbing between us from the very beginning, when we started the police academy together. Katie had gone to Riverside High and they were arch-rivals of Deer Park High, where I went to school. When things had been good between us, we’d teased about the mascots of both schools—Deer Park Stags and Riverside Rams. The possibilities of what high school kids will come up with are as endless as they are obvious and Katie and I both had a good memory.
    But those days were gone, so I gave her a simple nod. She looked mildly hurt that I hadn’t picked up the gauntlet.
    “I heard you made detective?” I asked, almost as an apology.
    Her eyes brightened slightly. “Yeah. It only took ten years .”
    I shrugged. “Some people never make it. Some people push a cruiser for their entire career.”
    “I guess,” she said.
    “How do you like it?”
    “It’s a fun job,” she said. “I like it a lot.”
    “Slower than patrol?”
    “Yeah, but more mental. I mean, you have to think on patrol a lot, and most of the time you have to think fast. In investigations, I’ve had to get used to thinking slower.” She spread her hands apart. “And broader.”
    “So it’s not the retirement gig everyone says it is?”
    Katie grinned. “Well…for a few, it is. But there’s as much work available as you’re able to get done.”
    “Good for you, Katie, ” I said quietly. “Good for you.”
    “Thanks.” She motioned at the folder. “You going to look?”
    “Later,” I said. “I’d rather talk to you now.”
    I was surprised at how easily I said it, but my surprise washed away when I saw her reaction. A moment of concern flashed across her face and she winced. It was gone a moment later, but it told me everything I needed to know about any chance for us.
    Ever.
    “Stef…” she began.
    I held up my hand. “Never mind.”
    “But, I—“
    “No, it’s okay. Really. I didn’t mean it that way.”
    She looked at me with the same