Free Ten Days in August by Kate McMurray

effectively put them facing each other again, the heels of Nicky’s shoes bringing him up close to Hank’s height. They were close enough to kiss again.
    But now was not the time for that. Nicky briefly entertained the fantasy of letting go and kissing Hank and seeing where things went, but he had to suppress it. Instead, he took a step back.
    â€œCan I call on you again?” Hank asked. “If not here, then perhaps at your home?”
    Nicky hesitated. He had learned years before not to trust a police officer, but an inverted police officer was another matter. Unless he was lying about that, too. But, no, Nicky trusted his instincts, and Hank was definitely attracted to him, as more than just a font of information.
    â€œAll right.” Nicky grabbed a scrap of paper from a side table. “Do you have a pencil?”
    Hank pulled one from his pocket. Unable to bend over to lean on the table, Nicky gestured for Hank to turn around and then used Hank’s back to write out his address. He handed the paper to Hank. Hank looked it over.
    â€œThank you,” he said softly. “I appreciate that you trust me enough for this. I’ll call on you tomorrow afternoon.”
    â€œI’ll be home.”
    Hank nodded slowly and glanced at the door. He opened his mouth to speak, but then Julie ran by and shouted, “You’re on, Paulina!”
    â€œYou have to leave,” Nicky told Hank.
    â€œAll right. Tomorrow?”
    â€œFine.”
    Hank met Nicky’s gaze again, and then nodded and left.

Day 3
    Friday, August 7
Temperature: 101 °F

Chapter 5
    A ccording to the thermometer in front of the Herald building, it was already seventy-eight degrees at six a.m. when Andrew left his apartment. It felt even hotter inside the car of the elevated train he rode downtown. Bodies pressed together, the smell of sweat pungent and sour, and everyone on the train looked as abjectly miserable as Andrew felt. He wondered if his suit might suffocate him before he even got to his desk.
    The newspaper he grabbed between the train station and police headquarters contained Department of Public Works Commissioner Collis’s decree that work hours be changed to prevent workers from keeling over during the hottest times of the day. Andrew knew of six people who had collapsed on the job the previous day, and not all of them survived once they reached the hospital.
    Perhaps New York City had finally sunk into Hell as so many had predicted.
    Commissioner Roosevelt stood outside his office when Andrew arrived to check in for the day. He stroked his mustache absently a few times before hopping and coming to life suddenly. “Ritchley. Meeting.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œI want the captain of the Eighteenth Precinct in my office by noon. We need to discuss the force necessary for William Jennings Bryan’s visit on the twelfth.”
    â€œI’ll see to it.” Andrew considered just how much force would be necessary. Bryan was scheduled to make a campaign stop, giving a speech at Madison Square Garden that would be his formal acceptance of the nomination as the Democratic candidate for President of the United States. Roosevelt had no fondness for Bryan and had made his displeasure about having to make policemen available to act as security for the event known loud and clear ever since Bryan had announced the speech.
    â€œI’ll be leaving for Oyster Bay in a few days. I intend to spend time with my family.”
    â€œOf course, sir.”
    â€œNow what is next on my schedule?”
    Andrew deserved a raise. “Well, sir, you’re supposed to do a ceremony in a few minutes commending the officer who killed a mad dog yesterday.” It was nasty business, this particular commendation, but Roosevelt had heard about it the day before and been enthralled. The officer embodied the masculine energy Roosevelt seemed to want the New York Police Department to emulate.
    â€œAh,