Picture Me Dead

She set a hand on his knee, telling him, “I’m so sorry.”

 

 

He was silent for a moment, then shrugged. “I really didn’t want to kill him. Not just because we’re still not sure who his partner, the one with all the money, is, but because…I always thought that if I found the person who killed Nancy, I’d want to rip his throat out. But Nancy believed in the law. And I found out tonight that I do, too. I didn’t want to kill him. I wanted him to stand trial for what he did. I’m sick at the thought that a man the public trusted, a man I worked with day in and day out, could be so brutal, so devious. Now there will be an inquest, this will all be in the papers, and good cops will suffer because one cop was bad.” He met her eyes, his expression haunted.

 

“Cops have gone bad before, and I know they’ll go bad again. But it’s not the norm. And I hate that people will think it is. And when I think about it, I’m sick all over again, because if anyone should have been able to see Marty for what he was, to recognize him…it was me.”

 

She had a feeling there was nothing she could say that would make him feel any better regarding Marty. She curled her fingers around his. “You saved my life. Your timing was incredible.”

 

His fingers closed around hers. A half smile curved his lips. “I hate to admit it, but you were doing pretty well on your own.”

 

“I couldn’t have outrun him forever. He had a gun, I didn’t.”

 

He was quiet for a long time. “You know, eventually you really should finish at the academy.”

 

She smiled, but she had no chance to respond, because Captain Blake was back; he needed Jake again.

 

It was another hour before they were able to leave. Marty’s body had been removed to the morgue, and the drug smugglers had been taken to headquarters where they would be questioned for hours.

 

She was glad to see that, despite the fact that there was still a piece of the puzzle missing, Jake was determined to leave things to the other members of the department, and especially to the men in the task force.

 

He drove his own car. Nick was in the back; Ashley sat up front with Jake. When they reached home at last, Nick got out of the car first, and when Ashley and Jake crawled out more slowly, Nick said to no one in particular, “Okay, even I know this is one weird request.” He turned and looked at Jake. “Just sleep in my house tonight, will you? I’d like to know you’re both close.” He stepped ahead of them then, twisting his key in the lock and entering the house.

 

Ashley felt a cool breeze stir her hair. It would still be a while until sunrise. She wished she weren’t so exhausted, that she could make it to watch morning come.

 

“So…what do you say? Mind sleeping in the house?” she asked. “It’s not that I’m the nervous type, but hey…there’s nothing like backup.”

 

“Everyone needs backup,” he said softly. “Besides, the opportunity to see your room is a definite temptation. Hey, do I get the first shower?”

 

“Um,” she said thoughtfully. “I’m not that magnanimous. How about sharing the first shower?”

 

“It’ll do.”

 

As it happened, they were both sporting a number of bruises and sawgrass cuts. They pointed them out to one another, then did things to make them feel better. When they emerged, the laughter stopped suddenly, and they stared at one another for several long moments.

 

“So…this is your bed, huh?”

 

“This is it.”

 

“Ashley.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

He wound his arms around her, buried his face against her neck, held her tightly. And began to move.

 

She had thought she was exhausted, but it was amazing just how awake, aware and vehemently energetic she could become.

 

Later, they remained together, side by side, yet curled together as one. She felt his fingers against her hair, gently smoothing it back.

 

“I have to admit, I’m probably always going to be a bit of a chauvinist asshole where you’re concerned.”

 

“That’s all right. I’ll just keep putting you in your place.”

 

“Just so long as you know.”

 

She sat up suddenly, looking toward the windows.

 

“The sun is about to rise.”

 

“It rises every morning.”

 

“This morning, I’d like to see it.”

 

Jake’s clothing was caked with muck; he had to resort to one of her bathrobes, but he did so with only a slight grimace.

 

They sat on the dock together. She leaned against his shoulder. “It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen that shade between gold and red before.”

 

“I have.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“It’s the color of your hair.”

 

She looked up and met his eyes then smiled.

 

“This is scary as hell, but…”

 

“Spit it out, Detective.”

 

“I’m falling in love with you, Ashley.”

 

She rested her head against his shoulder again. “Well, Detective, you should have figured this one out. I’ve already fallen in love with you. I think it all started the minute I spilled that coffee on you.”