Hidden thoughts

(A/N: I see more and more readers want this to be a romance, and I'm starting to have second thoughts, that maybe I should turn this into one...)

Chapter 8

It was late at night and Mike was hungry.

Fairway Grocers was where all the locals shopped. The automated doors made a sucking sound as they slid opened and he walked through them.

He carried a handheld basket, intent on picking up some fruit and maybe some toast for tomorrow's breakfast. As he walked down the fruit aisle, Mike happened to glance up and he did a double take.

Near the freezer section, pushing a shopping cart, was Connie. She was peering through the thick glass freezer doors at the vast assortments of ice cream.

Seeing her do an everyday chore brought a smile to Mike's lips.

He watched as she opened the refrigerated door and took out a pint of ice cream and place it in the front top part of her cart. Then, as if debating, she lifted it back up and then opening the refrigerated door, placed it back. Decidedly she next took one step forward, stopped, had second thoughts, stepped back, stared at that pint of ice cream, opened the door and placed it back in her cart.

As far as Connie was concerned, all she wanted to do was go home, grab a spoon, dig into the entire gallon of rocky road ice cream, while watching an old black and white movie. Ice cream helped when wallowing in misery with thoughts of ...of...work...on her mind.

No, she shouldn't...she put it back in the glass case.

Mike grinned watching as Connie debated back and forth about the ice cream. Open refrigerator door, pick up, close, open, pick up, close.

Her final decision was to put the ice cream back in the freezer section. As she did, she unexpectedly felt a prickly feeling go down her spine. It was a feeling one gets when surrounded by an unusual situation. Her sixth sense told her it was emanating from behind her.

Slowly she turned all the way around.

And there he was. Just looking at her. The blueness of Mike's eyes made her heart stopped. He returned her gaze and neither seemed to be able to should have felt embarrassed about being caught staring, but he wasn't. Maybe he secretly wanted her to see him. He smiled in acknowledgement of her presence. He was pleased when she seemed to relax and returned the smile. It was a friendly look; an inviting look. At least that was the way he would interpret it.

He started walking towards her. Mike didn't know what he was going to say, but he knew he wanted to talk with her.

After the fifth step he stopped in mid-step as an uncertain expression suddenly passed by his face.

A man seemingly came out of nowhere and was suddenly by Connie's side. The back of this figure loomed over Connie's cart, and in a domestic gesture, the man placed a six pack of beer in the cart.

And like the Titanic, Mike's heart sank.

Mike's mind also started clicking; the unknown male looked so familiar to him and then Mike remembered. Connie had once introduced that guy to him when they had sought the help of her ex-boyfriend in trying to identify a Mexican drug cartel. If Mike recalled correctly, the name of Connie's ex was...Jimmy...no, wait...Johnny?

Johnny, Mike determined, his mouth set as he turned away.

.

Mike.

Connie was being blocked from his approach. He would be upon them any moment.

"I got what I came for, Chica," Johnny was saying, after he placed the six-pack in her cart, along with a bag of snacks. He couldn't help but notice that Connie wasn't paying attention to him, "Hey, what is it, chica? Something wrong?"

"Yes, I mean, no.." Connie was trying to look around Johnny; first one side and then the next. Johnny turned in the direction she was looking.

"What? What is it?" Johnny asked, looking back, "Something strange going on over there?"

Both got a view of a young mother pushing her toddler in the shopping cart, as the automatic doors popped opened to allow them to depart from the store and out into the night.

Mike was nowhere in sight.

"I..," Connie swallowed hard, trying to hide her disappointment. Johnny gave her a puzzled look as she put on a reassuring smile, "Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew, but it wasn't..." she let the words lingered. Johnny, of course, was oblivious to Connie's distress as he looked at the few items in the cart.

"Hey, you didn't put anything in the cart!" Johnny announced, "Didn't you say you wanted some ice cream?"

"I've changed my mind," Connie responded before adding, "It's so late, and I really shouldn't be thinking about...ice cream," she stated regretfully, "Come on, let's go check out."

.

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The next morning, Mike came into work early. Sitting at his desk, he knew he had a lot to do, but he could only think about what had caused him a sleepless night yesterday. His mind kept wandering to the idea that Connie had someone. He had suspected it, but actually seeing it put a finality to it.

But then what had he expected? he rationalized. Did he think she went home alone every night? Should she be expected to remain single and forever tied down to the job? She was a vibrant, beautiful, intelligent woman who deserved more than what this job could offer her.

She deserved a life.

But did it have to include a relationship?

He was being unreasonable. She deserved to be happy with someone. Maybe he was feeling down because he had no one, he theorized. Just then his Blackberry buzzed. Good. Something to take his mind off of these unproductive meanderings, he picked it up and brought it to his ear.

"Cutter."

"Mike, it's Lupo," Cyrus said, his voice sounding his usual low with a toneless efficiency, "I'm calling about something you might want to know about the Brantley case. "

The Brantley case. That was what he should be focused on.

"Yeah...go ahead."

"The run-over body that was flattened like a beat-up pancake? We've been able to identify it," Lupo announced.

Mike sat up, "Who is he?"

"His name is Larry Carson. At least that's the name he gave when he registered at the Starlite Motel. It's also the name he gave when he rented a car from a rental car agency."

"Good work" Mike encouraged him, "Anything else?"

Lupo went on to explained that the identity had been a fluke. When the body was found, the detective noted that there was nothing in the pockets that could identify the person. At first he and Bernard didn't pay attention to the key chain until someone who had rented cars before noticed the code number on the key. That's when they traced the car with the GPS vehicle locator. It had been parked in front of the motel for a couple of days.

"Great that we have the identification," Mike said, "Anything else about the guy? For example, does he have a criminal record of any kind?".

"No, not even a parking ticket. But at least you have a name."

"Any way you can get any additional information about the suspect? His family? Friends? His residence?"

"That's a negative for now," Lupo was saying," The info on the rental car agreement turned out to be bogus. Meanwhile Bernard and I are swamped with a major case. Turns out a serial killer is on the loose and Van Buren is watching our every move. But if something more pops up about this Carson guy, I'll let you know."

Mike thanked him before hanging up.

When Connie came in, Mike was just getting off the phone. They exchanged quick greetings before she automatically sat across from him at his desk. An awkward few seconds followed, each wondering how to proceed. At last Mike decided to acknowledged that he saw her last night.

"Never knew you grocery shopped so late," he stated, watching for any uncomfortable signs.

Connie's lips felt dry, "You know how it is with this kind of a job, Mike," she stated reasonably, "when else could I do it?"

"True," Mike agreed, his tone never varying. His expression gave away nothing, honed in by years of being a brilliant prosecutor in court. Connie was his colleague, he reminded himself. He gestured towards the phone.

That's was Lupo on the phone," Mike switched the subject and was all business, "He called with information on the victim."

The quick change of topics made Connie blink quickly and she had to work to recover.

"Yes, of course, ...what did Lupo find out?"

"Right now," Mike stated, "all we have is a name with no record. So it's a dead end for now. Pun intended."

Mike felt frustrated. He was exhausted both physically and mentally. He hadn't slept well last night and with the way the case was going, he could do with some fresh air. He stood up and grabbed his jacket as Connie watched him with a questioning expression.

"Mike...?"

"I'm going over to Rikers to talk with the defendant, Tim Brantley," he announced to Connie more brusquely than intended.

"Oh, ...do you want me to come along?" she asked,as she, too, began to stand.

Mike was hoping she wouldn't ask. Unlike what most people thought of lawyers, he hated lying.

"Actually, there's plenty for you to do here, I think," Mike stated, with a tone that made him sound like an actual boss for once, "You might want to see if you can pull up any information on your end regarding Larry Carson. So far, we don't have anything but a name. It would also help for you to stay here in case Lupo has an update on the case. "

Connie, now standing, whipped out her notebook and pen.

"That's the name? Larry Carson?" she efficiently jotted down the name, "...Alright," Connie then added, "I'll get on that right away."

She kept her head down, not looking over at Mike walking away. He was almost to the door when he suddenly stopped. Shutting his eyes in frustration before opening them again, he hated himself for sounding like he did. It wasn't her fault that.. well, it wasn't her fault. He turned back around.

"And Connie?"

"Yes?" this time she looked over at him, her voice sounding hopeful.

He wanted to say something...nice to her, but he couldn't find the words.

"One more thing, Connie...what I'd like you to do is try and get in touch with Edison Brantley's assistant and see if I can have an appointment with the family patriarch for three o'clock," Mike announced in a businesslike tone, "If we have nothing on the victim, let's get as much background information on the suspect's family as we can."

If he were a contortionist, Mike would be kicking himself in the behind, right at this moment.

"Oh," Connie tried not to show disappointment at his use of "I" and not "we" when referring to getting in to see millionaire mogul Edison Brantley, "Sure, Mike, I can do that," she responded with a forced smile, "See you later."

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