Lethal Rage by Brent Pilkey Page B

dinners are hard for you.”
    â€œWhen we have kids, I’m going to teach the babies to splash food on him. Accidentally, of course.”
    He felt her shake her head against his shoulder. “I don’t understand why he picks on you so much. I thought he would stop when we got married.”
    â€œFace it, hon. Your dad doesn’t like me and he doesn’t like his only daughter being married to a cop. I’m sure he wanted you to marry the son of one of his colleagues. Probably still does.”
    She giggled. “Or someone I met at a political rally.”
    â€œRally sounds too radical for your father. Maybe a political convention or a lecture.”
    â€œThat’s where he and Mom met.”
    Jack had heard a glorified and detailed version of the story at his wedding reception, when Hawthorn had given a half-hour toast. Hawthorn, the ambitious doctoral student, and Evelyn, the freshly graduated social crusader, had met and fallen instantly in love at a political demonstration on the hills of the nation’s capital.
    â€œLove and political upheaval. Who could ask for a more romantic beginning?”
    â€œOh? And our meeting was more romantic?”
    They had reached the car and Karen leaned against the passenger door. She took Jack by the hips and pulled him close.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with meeting at the gym?” He leaned in to kiss her nose. “Okay, so we weren’t expressing social ideologies, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t impressed by your . . .”
    â€œMy what?” she asked with a smile.
    â€œYour discipline and dedication to a healthy lifestyle.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œWell, that and the way your ass looked in Spandex.”
    â€œSpeaking of my ass, I think it’s wasting away. I don’t know about you, but I’m still hungry.”
    â€œWhat my lady wants, my lady gets,” Jack declared, opening the door for her.
    Before he could close the door, she snagged his tie and pulled his head level with hers. The kiss she gave him made the night air cool by comparison. “Thank you, Jack, for putting up with my parents.”
    â€œI’m used to it.” He freed his tie and darted around the car. “Besides,” he added as he dropped into the driver’s seat, “whenever you speak up for me, your mom starts quoting scripture.”
    â€œAnd you’re such a naughty sinner.”
    â€œDamn right. And I intend to prove it as soon as we get home.”
    â€œBut dessert first.”
    â€œDessert, then sex,” he confirmed, pulling out of the parking lot.
    â€œHow about we get something to go and have dessert with sex?” Karen asked, toying with the buttons on her blouse.
    â€œI knew there was a reason I married you.” He grinned at her and stomped on the gas.

Thursday, 17 August
1717 hours
    â€œFucking bloody seat.” Sy muttered expletives as he threw his shoulders back against the driver’s car seat, which refused to budge from its upright position. “How the hell does anyone drive like this? My chest is over my fucking knees.”
    â€œAre you using the seat lever?”
    Sy glared at Jack. “Yes, I’m using the seat lever. Smartass.” He pushed once more and the seat back smacked into the Plexiglas partition behind the front seats. The headrest was missing and Sy smacked his skull on the glass. “Fuck!” He sat up and glared at his partner again. “One word, smartass, and you’re riding in the trunk.”
    â€œFar be it from me to laugh at my partner’s misfortune.” Jack swivelled the dashboard computer so he could see the screen and began logging them on. He couldn’t help snickering.
    â€œSmartass,” Sy repeated. It seemed to be his new word for the day. “At least the fucking seat’s working now.” He fiddled with it some more, then started up the car and cranked the air conditioning on.
    It was another