Chapter 2
Kate almost never ever did this, and the fact that she kept reminding herself of that not-inconsequential fact certainly wasn't helping any. She definitely didn't have time to date. She was a homicide detective for crying out loud- in the NYPD, no less- and there were a lot of murders in New York. A lot. She worked late. She worked weekends. And didn't most dates happen late and on weekends? Though she was long out of practice, she was fairly sure they did. No, she absolutely did not have time to date.
But she'd told Lanie she did. Sort of. Maybe. In some kind of I-just-want-to-go-home haze, she'd agreed to something, and whatever their conversation had been, it'd ended with her best friend screeching with glee and promising a phone call from a man, soon. Unfortunately, more often than not, when Kate's phone rang, it wasn't because something good was happening, and she already bleakly assumed this date would end up falling comfortably into that here-we-go-again category.
All day long Kate kept watch over her damn phone, not because it was chirping or buzzing or making any number of the other obnoxious sounds it was prone to make throughout the course of a day, but because she knew it might come at any moment: the call - from a man - about a date. A blind date, to be more specific. The kind of date where you didn't know the guy before you agreed to put on a skirt and eye shadow and you secretly dropped pepper spray into your clutch because he could turn out to be a serial killer. Surely a homicide detective should know better than to get involved in any of it. She really hoped Lanie ran some kind of background check.
"Watching it like that ain't gonna make it ring, ya know." Espo stood beside Kate's desk with a stack of paperwork and a grin. "Must be some important call. You've been staring at that thing all day."
"I have not, Javi," she snapped, her overly-defensive tone proving entirely the contrary.
"Whatever you say," he conceded, without conceding at all. "You wanna go over this stuff or what? Ryan's following up with the phone company."
"Yeah, let's see it," she agreed, unconvincingly.
What she really wanted was the stupid phone to ring so she could set the date up and move on with the rest of her day. In a desperate attempt at willing it so, she looked down and stared fixatedly at it like it was some perp across her interrogation room table. But desperate it was. And futile. A watched phone never rang, everyone knew. She pushed it aside with a clench of her jaw and stepped up to the Murder Board with Espo, consumed by thoughts of how best to kill Lanie and get away with it.
xxxx
"Detective, where are we with Rollins?" Montgomery stood within the frame of his office's open door and called across the bullpen to a case file-engrossed Kate. She hadn't looked up from the pile of papers on her desk for an eternity, her captain's voice registering as little more than white noise in the buzzing room around her.
Their current case had her tied in knots of frustration. Two whole days without a lead that offered anything more than a dead end. Her team was better than this. She was better than this. And then this Lanie business on top of it. Planning a date in the middle of a case wasn't wise or helpful- or good for the skin, apparently. Kate swore she could feel a pimple coming on.
"It's just that good, huh? Can't put it down?" Montgomery watched with amusement as Kate jumped in her chair with surprise.
"Sir?" Her brain was busy processing too many thoughts at once to come up with anything but a single word response.
"You've been sitting here for hours with your head buried in these files, Detective. Tell me we've got something on Rollins. 1PP wants to nail this son of a bitch, and so do I."
Two whole days without a lead. Kate hated waiting, hated that her boss had to ask her where they were with a case because she hadn't given him anything, hated the word unsolved because it reminded her of the biggest failure of her life.
She briefly met Montgomery's eyes, but turned back to the files almost immediately. "I know it's in here, sir. Ryan's been going through everything the phone company sent over. I just- I feel like we're close to something." But the truth was she didn't really feel it at all. She wanted to feel it. Like she wanted to feel excited about the date. But it was after 4pm and he, whatever his name was, still hadn't called. Probably best anyway.
"I hope you're right, Detective. Update me before you leave."
"Yes, sir."
Montgomery wasn't ten steps away when Kate's phone rang, and her reaction to it caught her most off guard. Her heart rate elevated and her breath quickened almost instantly, as though she felt some actual excitement. But that couldn't be because the date was definitely a mistake- no time, the case, not very good at this. Except, maybe.
But it was all for nothing, which hit her like a speeding train when she actually picked up her phone and realized it was Lanie calling. "Yes, Dr. Parish?"
"Oooo, bad day? You only call me that when you're pissed off about something."
Lanie knew her better than most people ever could or would. "Sorry. It's just this friggin' case. What's up?"
"You better watch that mouth, girl. That shit is not appropriate for a lady." Because she knew her better than most people, she could always make Kate laugh. "Now tell me what Josh said. When is his hot bod pickin' up your hot bod?"
Kate's eyes darted around the bullpen, wondering foolishly if anyone else had heard, but everyone milling about continued to mill about, entirely unaware, utterly without care. "He hasn't called yet, Lanie." The moment she said it, she wondered if she sounded disappointed. That wasn't…she wasn't…
"Damn, really?" Lanie was clearly the disappointed one. "Well, the hospital's an insane place to work. He'll call."
Josh from the hospital. Huh, maybe that didn't sound so bad.
xxxx
Kate briefed Montgomery on the very tiny morsel of additional information they'd been able to gather from Rollins' phone records and she marched out of his office toward her desk in a huff. She yanked her jacket from the back of her chair and hollered to Espo that she was leaving for the night. He returned a yeah on his way to the break room for another coffee. His tone matched her mood.
Another day was over. Another day without their suspect in custody. Another day of we-know-it's-him-but-can't-prove-it. Those were some of the worst days. And as Kate stepped out of the precinct and onto the sidewalk, she paused and angled her head toward the sky, her eyes closed, her breaths deliberate, as pedestrians paraded past her. After a long, still moment, she felt her phone buzz in her pocket and she reached for it, the number displayed one she didn't recognize.
"Beckett," she answered, a habit not easily broken simply by the completion of her working hours. The city was rowdy around her, and she could barely hear the voice on the other end.
"Kate?"
"This is Kate," she yelled more than said.
"Hi, this is Josh. I'm Lanie's friend. She told you I'd be calling?"
She did, yes, and I stared at my phone all day long like an insane person.
"Hi, Josh. She did, yes. I'm glad you called." In that moment, that was more a lie than not.
"So, I'm told we'd be fools not to try this whole setup thing." The longer than expected pause that followed made him wonder. "Kate? Are you still there? It's really-"
"Sorry, Josh, I'm out on the sidewalk so it's really loud. Hang on a sec." She waited for a break in the foot traffic around her and stepped back toward the precinct to try and find some quiet. She was practically screaming. That usually came at the end of a relationship, not at the beginning.
She pulled open the door and ducked back into the lobby. "I'm sorry about that. I was just leaving work when you called." She caught herself fussing with her hair and pulling unwelcome bits of lint from her jacket as she spoke- primping, she was primping for a phone call. How ridiculous, she thought, as she glanced over her shoulder at the desk sergeant, who, as it turned out, couldn't have cared less what she was doing or why. "So-"
"Right, yes, so," Josh jumped back in, "as I was saying before New York so rudely interrupted, I'm game for taking the plunge if you are. I mean, if you're as wonderful as I've heard, this could be the one time a blind date actually works out."
His voice was undeniably sexy. She had to give him that. And he did express a bit of hope. That was a plus. Her job didn't allow for much of that. "Well, those rumors are all true, of course," she replied playfully, almost proud she'd found a way to summon wit in the face of all the awkward she was feeling. "I suppose we could try it and see what happens." It wasn't an overly anxious or enthusiastic concession. In other words, it was perfect.
"Great, great. How about Friday night? My last surgery's scheduled for early afternoon. I'd love to take you out for a nice dinner. Maybe some late jazz?"
She hated how good that sounded, hated that she found herself suddenly swept up in a voice and a Friday and a trumpet. She'd railed against the entire idea since she'd agreed to it. But here she was, pacing the lobby of her precinct, twisting her hair around her finger and enjoying the thought. "That sounds nice, yeah. Um, my schedule's a bit less nailed down than yours, though, because I'm right in the middle of a case. It might be better if I just meet you somewhere, if that's okay."
"Of course, absolutely. A detective's work is never done, right? Well, sadly, but, right?"
"Yes, you're right," Kate giggled. She giggled? Oh, this was taking a bad turn.
"Okay, well, why don't we plan on 8PM and see what happens. Do you enjoy seafood?"
"I do, very much."
"Great. Meet me at Le Bernardin on West 51st at 8PM. I'll reserve us a table under my name, Josh Davidson."
Kate smiled. A nice name to go along with a nice voice. "It's a date. I'll see you there on Friday night."
"I look forward to it, Kate. Enjoy the rest of your week and good luck with your case. Goodnight."
"You too, Josh, thanks. Goodnight."
She made her way to the door and pushed out onto the sidewalk again. She wanted to call Lanie right away, but Dr. Josh Davidson: Surgeon and his stirring voice practically demanded a Google search. She was a homicide detective, after all, and she had little time to be wasting picking out a skirt and eye shadow if he turned out to have some secret rap sheet.