A Fine Specimen by Lisa Marie Rice Page B

wallet?”
    His frown deepened.
“What for?”
    Caitlin looked around
the four walls of the café as if they could help her. “Um…” She bit her bottom
lip. “To pay my share of the bill?”
    Martha slipped the check
near Alex’s right elbow and Caitlin reached for it. Alex clasped her wrist,
feeling her skin warm and soft under his hand.
    “No, really,” Caitlin
protested, “you must let me—” She pulled her wrist out of his grasp and knocked
Alex’s glass of ice water straight into his lap.
    Alex closed his eyes for
a second against the icy wet sensation in his groin. As opposed to the burning
wet sensation of the coffee an hour before. He opened them to see Caitlin
Summers’ mortified expression.
    Well, at least being
doused with ice water had made his dick go permanently down. Count your
blessings where you can find them, Ray used to say.
    “Tell me the truth, Ms.
Summers,” Alex said dryly as he threw two tens on the table and stood up. “Did
my dry cleaner send you?”

Chapter Four
     
    “ What are you doing
here at this hour ?”
    Caitlin jumped at the
harsh, deep voice behind her. She had no doubt who it belonged to. Lieutenant Alejandro
Cruz’s voice was unmistakable. It wasn’t just the deep timbre of his voice, but
the firm tone of command. Yes, it was definitely Alex Cruz.
    She stretched and then
turned around slowly, blinking and trying to clear her head to deal with the
man. He always seemed to catch her at her worst moments.
    They’d walked back to
the station house in silence after lunch, Caitlin’s cheeks red with
embarrassment. Alex had disappeared into his office and Caitlin had wandered
around, getting a feel for the layout, chatting with the officers.
    After a couple of hours
observing the workings of the station, she’d asked Sergeant Martello if there
were somewhere private where she could do some paperwork. Sergeant Martello had
led her to a big corner room just off the squad room with INTERROGATION etched
on the frosted upper panel of the door, and Caitlin had simply dived into the
questionnaires.
    She knew that
interrogation rooms were supposed to be windowless and featureless, stripped of
any decoration that could distract a suspect’s attention during the
interrogation so that the questioning could be focused. Almost a form of
sensory deprivation. Unfortunately, since there were so few distractions, the
room was also guaranteed to put her into a study trance, where she promptly
forgot about the outside world and about time passing.
    The lieutenant brought
her back to earth with a thump. Reflexively, she glanced at her watch and was
horrified to see that it was almost quarter to eight.
    “Oh my God!” she gasped,
rising and quickly shoving her papers together. In the windowless room, she
hadn’t been able to see day fading to night. “Thanks for reminding me how late
it is. I have to hurry. The last bus to Riverhead leaves at eight o’clock.”
    He stuffed two big,
heavy books into her book bag and hefted a third in his hand. “I’m glad these aren’t landing on my foot,” he said wryly, then glanced sharply at her. “You
don’t have a car?”
    “No.” Caitlin tussled
briefly with him over who was going to carry her heavy book bag, then let him
do it. She didn’t have time to waste arguing. It was a twenty-minute bus ride
and it would be almost completely dark by the time she got to Riverhead. And it
was at least a fifteen-minute walk from the bus stop to the Carlton. Ten if she
hurried. She would definitely hurry. The thought of walking through Riverhead
after dark was terrifying.
    Caitlin ran down the two
flights of stairs to the ground floor, barely noticing that the lieutenant was
right behind her. She had to battle her way down through laughing, joking
officers walking up. The night shift was coming on. She was about to push her
way through the heavy oak front doors when her elbow was caught in a hard grip.
    “Lieutenant,” she said
hurriedly, trying to