Our food arrived before I got to the good stuff, but my stomach couldn’t care less about his past when I could practically hear the hushpuppies barking on my plate. I stole one before the waitress set my plate before me and popped it into my mouth. Judging by Wu’s quiet astonishment as I demolished my meal, he’d had no inkling his future partner was three-quarters stomach, but he didn’t seem to mind. Even if he couldn’t keep up.
Dessert was served as the main course vanished, and we didn’t get a say in the matter as we were each handed a swirl of gray ice cream served in a black cone. Twisting it in my hand, I took a delicate sniff. “Do I want to know what flavors make these color combinations?”
“The cones are made with almond charcoal, and the soft serve is made with black sesame seeds.”
“You are a peculiar man with peculiar tastes.” I gave a tentative lick, and my eyes rolled closed at the savory avouri. Nutty, toasty, with a slight crunch thanks to the seeds sprinkled on top. “Lucky for me, I seem to share them.”
Wu’s grin was cut short by my phone ringing. “You can answer it. I don’t mind.”
“Thanks.” I brought it to my ear. “What’s up?”
“Jones scheduled a press conference in a half hour if you want to tune in. Should be on all the local channels. Word is she’s going to address the fires and ask the public to step forward with information if they’ve got any.”
“The tip line will be lighting up like a Christmas tree.” Too bad asshats with more time on their hands than sense made half those calls. “I don’t envy whoever lands phone detail.” And the unenviable task of weeding out the genuine tips from the crank calls. “This will be the first time Jones steps up to the podium as interim chief.”
“Jones is good people. She’s not going to lose her cool or go glory hog on us.”
Roberta Jones resembled everyone’s favourite auntie, the persona one she had cultivated during her years on the force, but she had been known to chop the legs from under a suspect with the sharp edge of her bright smile, and she had never once raised her voice to be heard. Respect did that for a person.
“Yeah.” I gave myself an internal shake. “You’re probably right.”
“Bou-Bou, one thing you ought to know about me by now is that I’m always right.”
I snorted so hard I almost choked on the lick of ice cream melting on my tongue. “You’re something all right.”
Rixton hesitated. “What’s with the music?”
“Music?” I played dumb. “You must hear the TV.”
“Unless you’re watching Food Network for a change, then no. I’m not. You’re out somewhere. I can hear the conversation around you and the clink of dishware.” Glee rang through our connection. “You’re on a date. Hot damn. A second date. Or wait – the drive was this morning. Does that make this part two of the first one?” He gasped. “Will this be a trilogy?”
“Keep this up, and I’m going to get a complex.” My eyes met Wu’s briefly. “I’m not on a date. I wasn’t on a date earlier. I will never be on a date at the rate you and Uncle Harold are going.”
That didn’t begin to touch on Dad and his free tours for prospective suitors of his sprawling acreage and his shovel collection.
“Tell you what. You supply me with a list of candidates, and we’ll handle the rest. I’ll perform background checks on them, Trudeau can interrogate them, and then your dad can compile the data and select the best man for the job.”
A groan eased past my lips. “You three are not in charge of finding me a man. Ever. Even if I wanted one, and I don’t, no. Forever no. Infinity no.”
“You never let me have any fun,” he pouted. “Now that I have a daughter, I understand the requirements better than ever.”
Oh God.
“A stable job, a fat bank account, a clean psych eval, a nice house in a good neighbourhood —” he ticked off his requirements with gusto “— no chemistry, no touching, no kissing, no sex, no procreation without a surrogate…”
“As Nettie’s godmother, I’m using my veto powers on at least half those items. Mostly the second half.”
“Godmother veto powers are not a thing.”
“We’ll pick this up tomorrow, okay?” I shot Wu an apologetic glance. “I gotta go.”
“’Cause you’re on a daaaaate,” he sing-songed.
I ended the call with a jab of my thumb and muted the ringer to block his redial, which… Yep. Right on time. Vibrating, my phone buzzed its way across the table. Ignoring Rixton, I gave up on my ice cream and placed it on an empty dish. “I would apologize for my partner since I’m sure you heard every word of that, but once I started, I would never stop.”
Wu watched my ice cream melt for the longest time. “I can see I have even bigger shoes to fill than I first thought.”
“Honestly, it’s best if you don’t try.” The sentiment flashed his eyes up to mine, and I winced. “What I mean is Rixton is Rixton. I’ve already bought stock in him. What you have to do is sell me on you.”
“I can do that.”
He sounded so very certain he could that I questioned the sanity of offering him the advice at all. Maybe that’s why I pressed harder. “What do you want from this partnership?”
“I want to break the cycle of violence that plagues this world,” he said with such earnestness I had no choice but to believe him. “I think you and I can do that. Together.”
A month ago, world peace would have sounded like a beauty pageant answer. Now it sounded pretty damn good if you asked me.
“Can we get the check now?” I stole one last scoop of melting ice cream with my spoon. “I hate to rush, but I need to go face the music. I didn’t exactly tell my uncle I was going out again, and he’s likely to be cleaning his shotgun on the porch when we get back.”
“I’ve already paid.” He tossed his napkin on the table and rose. “We’re free to leave.”
“I might have spaced out while I was on the phone, but the waitress didn’t bring our ticket. I would have noticed.”
“They have my card information on file. They’ll add the usual tip and charge me accordingly.”
I pulled a fifty from my purse. “That ought to cover me.”
Wu accepted the bill, wrinkled his forehead, and then folded it into a paper ring he slid onto my pinky. “I invited you out. This was my treat. You can pay next time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” I should have taken the ring off, but it was such a cool trick I left it on my finger.
During the return trip, I read the ubaste file from front to back, having no illusions about Wu letting me take the information with me. I was on my third re-read when he glided to a stop at the curb in front of the Trudeau home and came around to open my door. I let him, because it was kind of nice, and it sent the right message to the man waiting on the welcome mat for me wearing a Canton PD shirt over his faded flannel pajama bottoms and #1 Dad house shoes.
“Wait a minute,” Dad called as Wu attempted to make his escape. “I’d like to have a word with the man who took out my daughter.”
“Oh boy,” I muttered then escorted Wu to his interrogation.
CHAPTER TEN
The dad who spent a solid ninety minutes extracting a fascinating – if totally fabricated – life story from Wu was absent at breakfast the next day. His clarity lasted a few hours after my undate ended, and we spent them on the couch watching a documentary on Torres Strait Islanders while munching popcorn and skimming SportsCenter in the hopes of catching the final score on the game he had slept through.
Glued to his side, I kept him company until cloudy-eyed exhaustion dragged him under before climbing in my own bed. The spaced-out look hadn’t left him when I sought him out and found him staring at the same spot on the wall as usual.
Around the time I noticed I was gazing off too, a text came through from Miller assuring me that he and Santiago had vetted the clients with missing pets to ensure they were human. That didn’t eliminate the charun element from the equation, given someone had riled up the ubaste, but it meant the clients had been victims and not cohorts. Now we just had to determine whether the same could be said for the arsonists.