Usually wrapping up a case with a confession left Maddox Kelly feeling gratified. Today, though, job satisfaction didn’t seem to suppress a nagging sense of something missing in his life. Driving through his hometown of Sawyer Beach with one hand, unknotting his tie with the other, he squinted at the September afternoon sunshine streaming through his dusty windshield. Washing the SUV was a must before he garaged the vehicle during his upcoming surf vacation.
Besides sleeping and packing, it was the third and only item on his to-do list.
For the first time in a long while, his caseload didn’t loom over him. The lieutenant had practically shoved Mad out the door of the police department ten minutes ago. “You’re gonna burn out, Kelly,” he’d warned. “You won’t do your best detective work without rest.”
Yeah. Well. Truth was, though he loved his job, he did need a break. For too long, he’d been putting one foot in front of the other, with nothing on the horizon worth looking at. Everything seemed as dull as the glass he was staring through.
Upon reaching the town’s business district—a few blocks of small shops and businesses operating behind simple storefronts or within small homes built at the turn of the 20th century—Mad was forced to shift his foot to the brake, slowing for the inevitable Friday traffic. What with nearby colleges and a university, acclaimed wine growers and wineries, a few tech companies, oceanfront property, and a weekly farmers market featuring locally grown produce, Sawyer Beach attracted a wealth of tourists year-round.
A Vespa pulled in front of his SUV, forcing him to brake completely. While they both waited for a gaggle of visitors to jaywalk from one side of the street to the other, he glanced over at Fun & Games, the brew pub owned by one of his oldest and closest friends, Cooper Daggett. The bar offered food, drink, and retro arcade games and pinball machines. Then, as if he’d conjured him up, the man himself strolled out of the entry, his gaze lighting on Mad’s vehicle.
Grinning, Coop jogged over and Mad brought down his window. “Hey!” his friend said. “Perfect timing. I need you to play tiebreaker.”
“You do?” He saw the scooter in front of him accelerate, and instead of following, angled into an open parking space.
His friend leaned into the window as he turned off the car. “Come in for a beer. I’ll buy.”
Mad considered, then shook his head. “I want to get home, stretch out. I’m hoping for a straight eighteen hours of sleep. But I’ll break your tie for you first.”
Still, since September temps made it possible he’d roast in his car, he climbed from the seat and came around to lean against the front bumper. “What’s your dilemma?”
“I’m taking Willow to a B&B for the weekend in Monterey. She’s been working too hard.”
“Good idea.” Cooper, previously a serial dater with barrels of charisma but little interest in permanence, had fallen for one Willow Ray, an interior designer and relative newcomer to town. Coop had initially doubted whether he could commit like she wanted and deserved, but he’d been quickly struck down by Cupid or whatever capricious god that seemed to be attacking their group of friends these days.
But Mad liked Willow. Cooper should keep her.
“I’m debating on the right, uh, nightwear I should pack for her—I’m going to swoop her up from her latest job and just head north without stopping at home.”
“Oh.” Mad wasn’t sure packing for someone of the female persuasion was the best idea. “Uh…”
“Long and black and slinky or short and red and see-through?”
Mad eyed his friend. “Who are you discussing this with?”
“Grace,” Cooper said, naming his manager, a woman in her late twenties.
At least he wasn’t debating lingerie with the construction crew that showed up every afternoon for beers and Mario Bros.
“So,” Cooper continued, “black or red?”
“Willow’s been working too hard?”
His friend nodded. “Night and day.”
“Then nothing slinky or see-through,” he advised.
“Huh?” Coop frowned, clearly disappointed. Then he brightened. “Are you recommending no nightwear at all? That might work—”
“No, I’m saying go over to Gifts for Girlfriends.” He pointed toward the boutique run by the fiancée of another of their friends. “Have Gemma help you select some soft and comfortable pajamas. A matching robe.”
Cooper took a moment to think that over, then a smile slowly dawned. “Yeah. Great idea. She deserves pampering, not some horny boyfriend hitting on her.” With a two-fingered salute, he headed off in the direction of the boutique. Then turned around.