Thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter. I hope you like this one just as much.
Disclaimer: Nope. Checked this morning, and as far as I know, I still don't own anything.
TWO
After Lilly left, Andrea smiled and wound her arms around Scotty's neck again. He grinned at her but brought her arms down gently.
"Enough of that," he said in Spanish.
She pouted. "Why?"
"Not that I don't like your attention, but I got a job to do." He touched the badge at his hip pointedly and stepped past her. Nodding to his father, he said, "I'm gonna find out whoever has the case and get a start on it."
His father nodded and smiled. "Of course." He patted his son on the back before returning to his spot by Enrique's bed.
Scotty nodded to the rest of them, most of whom were preparing to leave for the day, and opened the door. He stepped out into the hallway, slipping on his coat with a sigh.
Dammit. If there was any place he really hated, it was hospitals. Nothing like a place with bustling doctors with their noses buried in a file and nurses too busy to talk to you to make you feel useless. He'd had his share of hospital visits, what with his busy youth with sports and also Mike's share of activities. Never liked the place. He'd come to hate it after Elisa's illness. He'd need twenty hands to count how many time he'd sat in a stiff hospital chair, waiting for the latest news of Elisa. Every time, he'd felt helpless, like a bystander just waiting for the bad news. He hated waiting, made him feel damned restless and cranky. He always itched to do something. So it was probably a good idea to get his butt out of Enrique's room and get down to the station for some news.
He walked back to the station, so caught up in his thoughts that he was nearly flattened by a bus when he stepped into the street. By the time he'd made it back, it was past noon. Still, the parking lot was unusually empty, an indication that most of the detectives had taken the day, if not the whole week, off for holidays. Scotty headed up the stairs before pausing and glancing back into the parking lot, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Lilly's car. Still parked there where it had been in the morning. Was she still here…? But Boss had said…
Scotty rode up to the bullpen hurriedly in the elevator and stripped off his gloves and coat. Leaving his gun in his locker, he entered the bullpen.
It was quieter than normal. Scotty picked out the blond head instantly in the sea of empty desks.
"Lil, what are you still doin' here?" he asked, crossing over to her desk.
She looked surprised to see him. "I headed home, couldn't find anything to do. So I came back and requested the file for your cousin's case. Been looking at it."
For a long moment, he stared at her, feeling strangely overwhelmed. It wasn't so much the fact that Lilly, his partner who knew next to nothing about his cousin, had volunteered her time to look into the case. For him. It was more of the fact that she didn't have anything better to do, even on such an important holiday as Christmas. Everyone, he thought, no matter who or where you came from, should have something to do on Christmas, whether it was meeting family, or buying presents, or just all-out arguing with parents. But she didn't. It made a pang of sadness shoot through him, and for a moment, he could only stare at her with sudden, overwhelming affection and compassion.
"Scotty?"
The moment was broken. He coughed into his sleeve, hoping she hadn't noticed anything. "Yeah?"
"You okay? Spacing out there."
He shook his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Find anythin' yet?"
"Nothing much in here," Lilly replied, flipping through the pages. "Lock on the door wasn't forced, so it must have been somebody Enrique knew or a delivery person of some sort. He was shot with a 9mm, close range, once in the chest." She turned over another page quickly before he could get a good look at it.
"What was that?" he asked, reaching for it.
"Photo," she answered. "Do you want to see it?"
Did he want to see it? See his cousin all sprawled on the ground with a hole in his chest and blood pooling all around him? Hell no. But did he need to? Yeah, to get a better read on the case, he did. So he reached for the picture and turned it over.
It was just as bad as he'd expected. To the side of the living room, Enrique laid on his back, his eyes closed, his hands on his chest, obviously trying to stem the flow of blood. The carpet beneath him was stained deep red. A phone lay nearby, bloodied from his fingers. From what Scotty had heard, his cousin hadn't had a chance to call police before he passed out.
Then his eyes traveled to the wall behind Enrique, and his heart skipped a beat.
A smear of blood extended down the light-colored wall, ending where Enrique lay. Just the sight of it catapulted him back to that interrogation room where everything had been so close to ending. He saw Ed Martenson's body again, felt for a pulse, then looked up and noticed for the first time Lilly slumped against the wall, her eyes far away, blood staining her shirt and the pale gray wall. That feeling of self-loathing and helplessness washed over him again. Dammit, he'd been too late, and his partner had been shot, and why was he so goddamn useless?
"Scotty," Lilly said sharply, and he snapped back quickly, suddenly aware that she was staring at him.
"Yeah? Sorry, I was just…" Thinking about when you almost died.
He shook away the thought. "Yeah, keep goin'."
She shot him a strange look but didn't press him. "There isn't any obvious evidence left at the scene, no murder—" She coughed. "No weapon in sight, no notes, nothing to ID the assailant. Forensics is going over the blood, but they're pretty certain most of it's Enrique's."
He smiled a little at the slightly harried look on her face. "Kinda weird, havin' a lot of evidence, isn't it?"
"Fresh too," she agreed, smiling back. "It's even weirder having a live victim."
He winced at her wording. Sure, it was a victim, but it was his cousin. Hearing the word victim made it just that much clearer how close they'd been to losing him.
Apparently, she'd noticed the flicker of darkness in his eyes. "Sorry," she apologized hastily. "I wasn't thinking."
He shrugged. "It's okay." He reached down and picked up a paper at random and scanned it. "So there're no leads?"
"It would help if your cousin woke up," Lilly said, shuffling the papers to put them back into the folder. She pulled the page he was holding from him and slipped it into the file before closing it. "We can't do much with what we have."
"Who's the officer on this?"
"A…Detective Richard White," Lilly answered, reading the name on the file. "He and his partner Charlie Rizzo were the officers assigned to the case."
"Never heard of them." Scotty ran a hand through his hair and sighed. They hadn't put some of the more experienced officers on the case, apparently. So they were handling it like it wasn't important, didn't merit some guys who actually knew what the hell they were doing. A ripple of anger shot through him.
Lilly watched the anger cross his face. "They're kind of fresh. About half a year into the detective job, both of them."
"Damn," Scotty breathed, rubbing a hand over his face angrily. "So they just stuck a couple of kids on this case? It's never gonna get solved."
"Hey," Lilly said softly, "that's what we're doing." For a moment, it almost looked as if she'd reach out to him again, and he waited in anticipation, wondering if she'd slide her fingers along his skin like she'd done earlier. It made him shiver, thinking about the way she'd touched him. But this time, she didn't move.
He managed a small grin. "Yeah. Right. Where do you think we should start?"
"Crime scene?" Lilly guessed, leaning back in her chair. "The place has already been picked apart, I'm sure, but we could just see if there's anything to find. Until your cousin wakes up, there isn't much to go on."
Scotty nodded. "Let's go get this bastard."
After flashing their badges to get past the police tape, they walked up to the house. It was small and simple, but looked comfortable enough.
"Is anyone home?" Lilly asked, pausing on the porch of the house.
"The door's open anyway," Scotty answered. "Ongoin' investigation. Police have been in and out all morning."
Nodding, Lilly pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was nice and warm inside but also dark. Behind her, Scotty flipped a switch and the lights popped on in the hallway.
"Living room's that way," he said, pointing to their left.
"Been here before?" Lilly asked, stepping in the direction he'd shown her.
"Yeah, a couple of times for their kid's birthday."
"Kid?" Lilly repeated in surprise. She entered the living room, which was also dark. Crossing to the windows, she pulled open the blinds to let some of the afternoon light into the room. It cast a warm glow on the crime scene.
"Good kid," Scotty replied. "His name's Trevor. Just turned seven, I think."
They walked slowly through the crime scene, taking in the details. None of the furniture had been upset, so the assailant had probably taken Enrique by surprise. Lilly moved until she was across from the bloodstain on the wall, directly in front of it. Had the attacker stood here? If he'd fired from here, Enrique would have stumbled back, hit the wall, and slid down to the floor, where the carpet was blood red.
"How long was he lying here?" Lilly asked, kneeling by the bloodstain.
"Not long," Scotty answered. "Pam said she'd left the house for about twenty minutes. When she came back, he was lying here."
"So the attack happened in under twenty minutes," Lilly said, standing. "The gunman entered the house, shot Enrique, and left in under twenty minutes." She paused. "Did Enrique own a gun?"
Scotty frowned. "I don't think so. At least, Pam never mentioned it."
"Maybe it was a robbery?" Lilly guessed.
Scotty shook his head. "Nothin' was taken."
"Doer panicked? He could have come in here, shot Enrique, panicked, and run."
He shrugged. "Not enough evidence to say anythin', really."
"And the neighbors didn't hear anything." Lilly sighed, scrutinizing the stain on the floor again. "I can't imagine someone firing a gun in a nice neighborhood like this and no one noticing."
"Police have been askin' people up and down the street all mornin'. Nobody's said anythin' yet."
The place looked exactly as it had in the photos. Nothing looked out of place or moved. Lilly walked around the area one more time before shaking her head.
"I don't see anything the police haven't already seen. I think we should have a talk with—"
"Scotty?"
Both of them whirled, and Lilly had her gun halfway out of its holster before she recognized the woman standing in the hallway.
"Pam?" Scotty asked incredulously, releasing his hold on his gun. "What are you doin' here?"
She eyed Lilly, who still had her gun half-drawn. "What's she doing here?" Then hastily, she added, "I'm sorry if I sounded rude. I'm just wondering."
"No problem," Lilly said, putting her gun back into the holster. "Scotty and I thought we'd have a look at the crime scene."
"You have a lead?" Pam asked hopefully.
Scotty shook his head. "We don't have anythin' but we're tryin'. What are you doin' here, Pam?"
She pointed down the hallway to one of the open rooms. "I was getting some things packed. Since it's a…crime scene, I thought it would be best for Trevor and me to leave for a while. Ramiro said we could stay with them until…well, until this blows over."
Scotty nodded. "That's probably a good idea. You'd be safer too."
Pam paused, her eyes wide. "Safer? You think whoever did this to Enrique will come back?"
He shrugged. "It's a possibility. No need to take chances though, right?"
Was is appropriate to ask questions now? Normally, she wouldn't have hesitated, but it was Scotty's family. Was it okay to pry, even with a detective's right? Lilly stepped forward hesitantly, glancing at Scotty. When he didn't object, she asked tentatively, "Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"
Pam shook her head. "Of course not, if it helps find whoever did this."
"About what time did you find Enrique?"
"I don't know…at about seven thirty last night?"
Scotty started. "What? Last night? And you didn't call me 'til this morning?"
"Enrique had to go through surgery and we were scared to death through the entire night," Pam defended, wiping away a stray tear. "We didn't think to call anyone 'til the morning."
"Seven thirty," Lilly cut in, noting it in her legal pad. "So you left the house at about seven ten? For what?"
"I was…I was picking up Trevor from his soccer game." She pressed her hand to her mouth, clearly holding in tears. "Enrique and I had a stupid argument before I left, something about leaving the microwave door open. Enrique was the one who was supposed to pick Trevor up. If only I hadn't been the one to go…"
"Don't blame yourself," Scotty interrupted, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If you were home, you'd probably be hurt too."
She nodded, sniffling back tears. "I know. I know, it's just…why did this happen? Enrique's a good guy, never hurt anyone. Everyone likes him. I just don't know who would do this."
Lilly paused, waiting for her to get her tears under control. Scotty's hand on her shoulder seemed to work wonders for that, as Pam managed to wipe away most of the wetness from her eyes.
Clearing her throat, Lilly asked, "Did you have any visitors yesterday? Anyone suspicious?"
Pam shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. Eric—our next door neighbor—came by at around six, asking for Enrique. They went into the garage for a little bit. I didn't see anyone else the whole day."
"Eric," Lilly echoed, making a note of it in her notepad. "Left side neighbor or right side?"
"Left." Pam paused, seeming to realize something. "You don't think Eric did this? He's a good man, I don't think he would do anything like this."
"Covering the bases," Lilly explained. "Do you know what they talked about?"
Pam shook her head. "They were in the garage for maybe twenty minutes. Then Eric left."
"Do you own a gun?"
"What?" Pam laughed softly, incredulously. "No, I don't. Are you suggesting that I shot Enrique?" She shot a suddenly hostile glare at Lilly, backing away a step. "I love Enrique, why would I shoot him?"
Scotty stepped forward, holding up a hand. "Nah, that's not what she means, Pam. We just wanna know where the attacker got his weapon from. If Enrique had a gun, that could be the assault weapon. If not, the attacker brought the gun with him."
Her cheeks pinking in embarrassment, Pam flashed Lilly a mortified look. "Oh…I'm so sorry. I don't know what got into me."
"It's okay," Lilly told her, smiling consolingly. "You've been through a lot. I understand." She flipped the legal pad closed and nodded to Scotty. "I think we have enough. We'll be going now."
"You want me to stay 'til you're done packin'?" Scotty asked softly, rubbing Pam's shoulder.
Pam nodded gratefully. "Would you? I'd feel…safer."
"Sure." He glanced at Lilly. "You gonna be okay?"
"Sure. I think I'll have a talk with Eric next door."
Lilly moved toward the door, but to her surprise, Scotty caught her wrist. He hesitated a moment before murmuring, "Be careful, Lil."
She stared at him for a second, caught off guard. Be careful? He only very rarely told her that, and only when he was truly concerned. Not when there wasn't any apparent danger, and talking with the neighbor didn't seem particularly perilous.
"I think that goes without saying," she said slowly, with a smile.
He released her, nodding. "Yeah, sure. I know. Just wanted to tell you."
Shooting him a last quizzical glance, Lilly left the house. Outside, even with the sun glaring down, it was still cold enough to make her shiver. She slipped on her gloves and crossed over to the house on the left. It was similarly small and simple but painted red instead of blue, like Pam's house. There was a car in the driveway, so Lilly strode up to the door and knocked.
After a long moment, the blinds at the window beside the door were pushed aside. A small face peered out at her curiously. It was a child, maybe nine or ten, with dark curls and wide inquisitive eyes.
"Hi," Lilly mouthed, waving to the boy. "Open the door?"
He smiled and shook his head.
She bent down into a crouch so she could see on eye level with the boy. "Why not?" Lilly asked, smiling.
He giggled and made a silly face into the window but didn't answer. Lilly couldn't help but pull a face of her own. At her expression, the boy laughed and crossed his eyes, pulling on his ears.
The sound of footsteps interrupted their silliness. "Jerry," someone reprimanded sharply, pulling the boy away from the window. Lilly straightened up as the door opened.
"Who are you?" the woman behind the door demanded suspiciously. She was a slender, graceful-looking black woman in an apron and what looked to be home clothes. Her long hair was pulled back into a quick, messy ponytail, and behind her, Jerry clung to her leg.
Lilly held up her badge to placate her. "Hi, Detective Lilly Rush, Philly homicide. Do you mind if I talk to you or your husband?"
At the word homicide, the woman went wide-eyed. "What…what is this about? Who's been killed? Not Eric? Oh God, not my husband!"
"Not Eric," Lilly assured her. "No one's been killed. This is about Enrique Valens, your neighbor?"
That gave the woman some pause. "Enrique? What's happened to him?"
Lilly looked at her in surprise. "No one's spoken to you about this yet?"
"No, I just got home. I was shopping all morning. What's this about?"
Well, that explained why the police hadn't questioned her yet. "Can we step inside?" Lilly asked instead, shivering in the cold. The warmth that seeped from inside felt wonderful, and she eyed the fireplace crackling in the living room.
The woman stepped aside instantly. "Of course! I'm so sorry I've kept you out in the cold. Come inside, please."
Gratefully, Lilly stepped inside, taking off her gloves and pulling out her legal pad and a pen. With Jerry scampering in front of them, the woman led Lilly into the living room, and together, they sat in front of the fire as Jerry settled himself on the carpet with a pencil and paper.
"I'm sorry, Eric's not in right now," the woman said, "but what can I tell you?"
"Your name first," Lilly answered, flipping her legal pad open to a fresh page.
"Grace. Grace Jackson."
"Alright, Mrs. Jackson, do you know Enrique well?"
Grace nodded. "We talk from time to time, and Enrique invites us over for dinner occasionally. What's happened to him? Is he okay?"
"He was shot last night," Lilly told her. "His condition was critical, but he seems to be okay now. He's in the hospital."
"Oh my god," Grace breathed, her hand over her mouth. Her eyes darted momentarily to her son, clearly wondering if this was something for a child's ears. Jerry seemed to be preoccupied with whatever he was drawing, though, so she turned back to Lilly. "What happened?"
Lilly smiled. "I was hoping you could tell me. Pamela told me that your husband went over to see Enrique at about six?"
Grace shook her head. "If he did, I didn't know. I didn't come home until later. Eric goes over there from time to time to talk with Enrique. It isn't unusual."
"Do you know what they talk about?"
"Oh yes. They never talk about anything else. It's always about the soccer league."
Lilly paused. "Soccer league?"
Grace nodded. "Yes, Eric and Enrique started this junior soccer team together for the kids. They're really into soccer, and since they can't play themselves—no time, you know—they set up a team for kids. Children all around the neighborhood are in it. Jerry's in it too."
"They had practice last night?" Lilly asked, remembering that Pam had gone to pick up Trevor before returning to find Enrique in the living room.
"Yes, they did. That's where Jerry was. Eric went to pick him up at around seven. He came back at about eight."
Lilly glanced at her. "How far away is practice?"
Grace shrugged. "They practice in the park nearby. About five, ten minutes away? Practice gets out at seven fifteen."
"And where did Eric go after that?"
"After that?" Grace repeated, confused.
"After picking Jerry up," Lilly clarified. "If he went straight to the park and back, he should have been home by seven thirty at the latest."
"Oh." Grace paused, her brow furrowed in thought. "I…I don't know. Sometimes he takes Jerry to the ice cream shop after practice. I thought that's where they'd gone…" She trailed off and looked down at the son in question. "Jerry? Where did you and Daddy go last night after practice?"
"Nowhere," Jerry answered, looking up from his drawing. "We stayed at practice 'til real late yesterday."
Lilly leaned forward in interest. "Why?"
Jerry shrugged a thin shoulder. "Daddy and Mr. Elliot had a fight. Then they went to the side and talked for a long time."
Lilly and Grace exchanged the same, questioning look. Lilly asked, "Do you know what they were arguing about, Jerry?"
"Something about Coach," Jerry answered. "He wasn't there yesterday. Where was he?"
"He wasn't there?" Grace repeated in surprise. "Who coached, then?"
"Mr. Elliot stayed and made us run practices," Jerry said, making a face. "I don't really like him. He's kind of mean sometimes."
"Mean?" Lilly repeated.
"Got a temper, Ronald Elliot," Grace explained with a sigh. "His son is on the team, and sometimes, when the coach—Enrique—can't make practice, Ronald steps in."
"Enrique's the coach?" Lilly asked. "Then he should have been at the practice last night?"
Grace shrugged. "He didn't say anything about not going. Usually he calls the families to tell them that he can't make it. He didn't yesterday."
"Hmm," Lilly murmured, scribbling down some notes. "Last few questions, Mrs. Jackson. Were you home last night from seven to seven thirty?"
Grace nodded, so Lilly continued. "Did you hear any strange noises? And did you happen to see anyone entering or leaving the Valens house?"
Slowly, Grace shook her head. "Nothing strange. I wasn't looking outside, so I couldn't tell you if anyone went to the Valens', but I did hear something that sounded like a car door slam. Maybe someone stopped on the street. I don't know that whoever it was stopped by Enrique's, though."
"You were alone?" Lilly asked. She doubted the woman was a suspect, but it never hurt to be sure.
"Yes," Grace said, "but I was on the phone with my friend Annie Sutton until about seven thirty-five. You can ask her about it."
"I will. Thank you, Mrs. Jackson," Lilly said, rising. "That's all I need to know for now. When Eric comes back, tell him to stay in town. We might need to ask him a few questions."
"Of course." Grace rose also and accompanied Lilly to the front door. "If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call or visit. I want to know who did this to Enrique."
She reached for the door, but before she could open it, someone knocked. With a bemused expression, Grace pulled the door open.
"Hi," came the familiar voice. "Scotty Valens, Philly homicide. I was wondering if my partner's still here?"
Lilly grinned at the sight of him all bundled up on the porch. "Yeah, I was just finishing up."
Was that her imagination, or did his eyes brighten a little at the sight of her? She shook her head slightly, banishing the silly thought.
"Hey, Lil," Scotty said, stamping his feet against the cold. "You ready to go?"
Lilly nodded. "Yeah. Eric's not home, but his wife, Mrs. Jackson, told me some things we might need to check up on."
"Okay, great. Let's go then."
Lilly stepped past Grace and her son into the cold outside. "Thank you for the help," Lilly said, smiling at them. Together, she and Scotty walked down the steps and continued down the sidewalk to his car parked in front of Enrique's house.
"How's Pam?" Lilly asked, shoving her hands in her pockets.
"Doin' okay, considerin'," Scotty answered, shrugging. "I told her I'd give her a ride to my dad's house."
Lilly stopped, shooting him a surprised glance. "Now?" But they'd ridden together in Scotty's car, leaving hers back at the office. She still needed a ride, but she didn't want to have another go at meeting Scotty's family, especially at Ramiro's house. Besides, Scotty would probably want to go inside and talk with his family for a while, which would make her all the more uncomfortable as she waited. Maybe it would be best just to call a cab, or walk back to the office. It wasn't that far anyway.
"Yeah, now." He glanced at her and stopped too. "What's wrong?"
She shot him a smile. "It's nothing." She was being ridiculous. She could face hardened criminals and serial killers without batting an eye, but she couldn't face the idea of meeting Scotty's family again? She was more of a coward than she'd thought.
"It's nothing," she repeated, pulling the passenger door open quickly. "Let's go."
"Sure," Scotty said, glancing at her inquisitively. But he didn't ask anything, only helped Pam get her suitcase into the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat.
"It's not far," Scotty said, more for Lilly's benefit than Pam's. "Only about thirty minutes away."
Wonderful. Thirty minutes to figure out how exactly to interact with family. Oh come on, she thought irritably. You've talked with hundreds of people before. This is no different.
But it was different, on some level. This was Scotty's family. Strangers or not, some part of her wanted to put on a good impression. To show that yes, Scotty's partner was good and nice and…deserving.
Deserving of him? Good God, where had that thought sprung from? She sounded like a nervous girlfriend, for goodness sake! Hurriedly, she clamped down on that train of thought and tried to turn her mind to the case. The case, the case…
Pulling to a gentle stop at a stoplight, Scotty glanced surreptitiously over to Lilly. She looked deep in thought, her brow furrowed as she stared straight ahead. What was she thinking about? The case maybe, probably. She had that look on her face that she got when she was trying to figure something out. If anyone could solve this case, he had no doubt she could. She was the best detective he'd ever met, with an uncanny ability to drag the truth out of even the most unwilling suspects. Once again, he felt a wave of gratitude that she'd volunteered to take the case.
They were a couple of minutes away from his father's house now, pulling into an older neighborhood with large houses spaced farther and farther apart. His father had worked hard all his life to buy a house that his large family could enjoy. The result was a two-story home with enough rooms to house almost all the relatives of the Valens family when it came time for the holidays. Scotty rolled through the list of family and counted at least twenty-six who would be staying at the house for Christmas week. It would be a wonderfully loud and festive Christmas—or it would have been, if Enrique wasn't stuck in the hospital.
They pulled into the driveway, which was already packed with cars.
"We're here," Scotty said unnecessarily. "Trevor's already here?"
Pam nodded. "Ramiro took him home earlier from the hospital." She opened the door and got out.
Scotty looked over at Lilly and was surprised to find a look of growing dismay on her face.
"You okay?" he asked, wondering what was eating at her. She'd had that apprehensive look on her face since he'd mentioned they were dropping Pam off at his father's.
She looked at him distractedly. "Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine."
Like hell. She looked like she was going to bolt any minute. Was the thought of meeting his family so frightening? He'd seen how reluctant she'd been in the hospital, but he'd thought that it was only because she wasn't ready to be crammed into a small room jam-packed with twenty people. Was it because she was actually afraid to meet his family?
No way, he thought, pulling the keys out of the ignition. Lilly didn't get scared. Sure, when she was staring a gun down its barrel, she was shaking, but over meeting his family? No way. There was nothing bad about it. His family were all nice folk, and they treated guests right. So what was there to be scared about?
He pushed open his door and stepped out, calling to Lilly, "You comin'?"
She didn't move. "I…I think I'll wait out here."
"Wait? Come inside."
"No, it's okay. You won't take long, right?"
He leaned on the car roof, sighing as he ducked his head back inside. "It's freezing out here. Come inside. Won't take long."
She hesitated, her expression for once unguarded. In one of those rare moments, Scotty could read her face like a book. Holy crap, she was scared, scared of his family. Of what, exactly, he had no idea, but apparently, the thought of meeting all his relatives scared the crap out of her. She was sitting frozen in her seat, glancing at him a bit nervously but obviously trying to hide it.
He knew he shouldn't say anything. If he so much as mentioned her being scared, she'd get defensive, and somehow, they'd end up arguing, and the car ride back to the office would be tense and uncomfortable. Or she'd say she was fine, and that would piss him off because he knew she didn't mean it, and they'd still end up in a frosty silence.
Of course, he'd never been too good at holding in words. So he said, "I don't get why you're scared to meet my family."
As he'd expected, she looked offended and indignant almost instantly. "I'm not scared. I'm fine."
Wow. She'd gotten defensive and told him she was fine. He was starting to get a little pissed, having no idea what she was getting so worked up over.
"It's just family," he said slowly. "It's nothin'. They're all nice. I don't get what's eatin' at you."
She sighed irritably, and he knew then that something big was bothering her because she didn't usually get upset so easily. He tried to take a closer look at her, but she'd slipped on that damn Ice Queen mask again. When the hell had she done that? Half a second ago, he'd been able to tell what she was feeling practically before she could.
Before he could say anything more, she opened the car door and got out. "Okay, let's go."
She walked up the path with slow, steady strides, feeling Scotty's eyes on the back of her neck. She'd almost snapped at him back there. What the hell was wrong with her? And why was she getting so worked up over this? It was just another family, just some more strangers. She met strangers all the time on the job; this shouldn't have been any different. It wasn't as if she was going to meet her boyfriend's family or something.
Good God, I've got to stop thinking things like that, Lilly thought, putting a hand to her forehead. Maybe the cold was affecting her more than she'd thought. Maybe she was coming down with something.
Ahead of them, Pam had already opened the door and greeted whoever was inside. Lilly's strides slowed unconsciously, and she paused, watching the doorway.
"Come on," Scotty said from behind her, his voice annoyed. "Let's go."
And now he was pissed because he'd seen through her, seen her nervousness. With a sigh, Lilly brushed hair out of her face and followed him to the door.
"Scotty!" It was Ramiro in the doorway, waving to his son. "And your partner." He nodded to Lilly, who smiled back.
Scotty and his father launched into some Spanish, and Lilly stood uncomfortably between them. Once or twice, their eyes traveled to her and she got the feeling that they were talking about her.
She suddenly realized another reason she was reluctant to meet with Scotty's family—they could speak Spanish 'til kingdom come about her, talking about all sorts of things, and she'd never understand. Hell, they could be insulting her for all she knew and she'd never know any better.
But why did she care so much about what they thought anyway? She'd never put much stock into other people's opinions anyway. Working as a woman cop, she'd learned to ignore other's comments, which were more often hurtful than not. She shouldn't care about what Scotty's family thought of her.
But some part of her did, for some inexplicable reason. Shaking her head, she brushed away the thought and tried to get a feel of what Scotty and his father were discussing.
"Come inside," Ramiro said eventually, in English.
Scotty shot her glance, and she shrugged, stepping inside in front of him. The house was relatively large, even bigger than it had looked from the outside. Scotty had warned her that most of his relatives were staying here, but she didn't see anyone other than Ramiro. Maybe the rest of them were still at the hospital.
They tramped into the living room, where Ramiro and Lilly took seats. Scotty, however, remained standing.
"I'll go get some drinks," he said, patting his father on the back. "Be right back."
He was leaving? Panic shot through her, and she half-rose. "Scotty?"
He smiled tightly at her, and the look in his eyes told her he was doing this on purpose. Damn him. What was he doing?
"Play nice," he teased, touching her shoulder briefly before disappearing into another room.
Play nice? She was very nearly panicking, and she knew he knew it by the small, half-smile he'd flashed her. He was definitely going to hear it later, the bastard.
Slowly, she sat back down and nervously smiled at Ramiro.
He chuckled. "My son. Always transparent, isn't he?"
Lilly looked at him quizzically. "What?"
"He likes you very much," Ramiro said, settling back into the chair with a fond smile on his face.
That doesn't mean anything, she thought instantly. Of course Scotty liked her; they were partners. She might have been blushing. Maybe. Or maybe the room was just too hot. "I'm sure he does," she answered casually. "We're good friends."
Ramiro turned a curious gaze on her. "Friends?"
Lilly forced a smile. "Yes. We've worked together for many years now."
He nodded slowly. "Ah," Ramiro said, smiling knowingly. "I understand."
Understand? He understood what, exactly? Lilly shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
"You like him too?"
She nodded. "Of course. Like I said, we're very good friends."
"You're keeping him in line then?" Ramiro chuckled. "Scotty—always getting into trouble. You keeping him from getting shot?"
"More like the other way around," Lilly said wryly, grinning. "He saved my life."
Now Ramiro's eyes registered true interest. "Did he?"
Suddenly realizing that she'd opened herself up to a boatload of questions and memories, Lilly said hastily, "It was a long time ago. Maybe Scotty can tell you about it some time."
"Maybe," Ramiro agreed. He seemed to sense that Lilly didn't want to talk about it, and for that, she was relieved. This wasn't altogether too difficult. She could just shut away her emotions and treat Ramiro like a person from a case. Nothing personal about it, just asking questions and answering like she was on a case. Simple.
Scotty returned with drinks, and they spent the next few minutes talking comfortably—in English, thank God. Eventually, Scotty told his father that they needed to be leaving, and Lilly shook his hand before walking back to the car.
"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Scotty asked, grinning a little as he opened the car door.
"It was okay," Lilly admitted. At least his father had seemed to like her…And why did she care about that anyway?
"Told you it wouldn't be bad," Scotty said, ducking inside.
"Whatever," Lilly said, smiling at him. "Take me home."
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