Sitting on the side of the bed, elbows on her knees, she rubbed her fingers back through her hair and stood with a curse. Might as well get something done. Maybe she could catch a nap later. Right now, she needed coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Alone in the condo, she eschewed any clothing beyond the t-shirt she'd slept in and made her way down to the kitchen where it took two cups of coffee and the start of a third before her brain cleared enough to focus on any meaningful activity. A bleary glance around the kitchen brought a blinking light into focus, and she realized her phone was trying to tell her something. She hit speed dial for her voice mail.
The smooth bourbon of a Southern accent poured out. “Hey, Cyn, it's Nick. I'm getting a little worried here, darlin'. It's been a while. Call me."
Nick was an old friend. Actually, more, and less, than a friend. A friend with privileges. The two of them had a long-standing arrangement that was mutually very satisfying, both physically and emotionally. Nick lived on the other coast and called whenever he was in town. Over the years, they had both enjoyed great sex with no commitment, each free to move on if they met someone they wanted to spend time with. When the other relationships petered out, as they invariably did, the old convenience was always waiting. The affair with Raphael had come and gone so fast, Cyn had never even had a chance to tell Nick about it, and the wound was still too raw to even think about someone else. Nick, unknowing, had left a couple of his usual messages in the meantime, but she'd never called back. But now ... Now what, Cyn?
She dialed. It rang twice before he picked up. “Well, it's about time, Leighton. Where the hell have you been?"
"Nice to talk to you too, Nicky."
"Yeah, yeah. Come on, Cyn. I was worried."
"You're right. I'm sorry."
"Because we're friends, right?"
"Yeah. I said I was sorry."
"So what is it? Big case taking all your time? Met a new guy, madly in love? But then you'd be happy and call me. So I figure someone's broken your heart. You want me to kill him for you?"
Cyn laughed. “He might be hard to kill."
"Yeah? And I might surprise you. So what's going on? I'll be in town next week, if you want to get together."
Cyn was silent, thinking.
"Cyn, darlin', if you have to think that hard about it, you're not ready. The bastard. How about I just break a few of his bones?"
"I appreciate the offer, Nicky. Both of them. And you're right, I'm not ready. Not yet anyway. But I wanted to let you know everything was okay."
"Well, I do appreciate the call. So you keeping busy at least? You're not like hanging around the house and eating ice cream right from the carton, are you? ‘Cuz it'd be a shame to ruin that fine ass of yours."
"Gee, Nicky. Here I thought you were worried about me and it turns out it's only my ass."
"Well, it is a very fine ass, darlin'."
"Maybe I'll take my ass for a run on the beach later. Might clear some cobwebs and help me figure out a way to get some answers."
"So you are working a new case."
"Missing girl, my favorite kind. Not. And to make it more interesting, we've got a serial killer loose in town, and he seems to favor runaway girls. No pressure."
"You've still got pretty good ties in the department, though, right? That should help some."
"The department's not too happy with me these days. Even my regular guy's being cagey. He let me in a little, but he's closed the door for now. It's frustrating."
"So talk to his secretary or clerk or whatever those guys have. That's what I do. Secretaries know everything that's going on, and if they like you, they'll talk."
"Since most secretaries are female, I'm sure that's not a problem for you."
"Hey, the ladies like me, what can I say?"
Cyn didn't respond right away. “You know, Nicky,” she said thoughtfully. “You're not just a pretty face, after all. That's a great idea."
"Okaaay ... I'm not sure if that was an insult or a compliment."
"A compliment all the way. I'm glad I called."
"Yeah, me too. I have no idea what you're talking about, but okay."