“I’ve seen how the pressure of the new job has been working on you.”
“Don’t do that. Minimize me by saying I’m not up for my own job now.”
“It’s only human. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and all that. It has to go somewhere. I can take it.”
And with that came ignition. “Well, aren’t you the noble martyr. Rook, this isn’t bimbo jealousy, or work stress. You know what it is? Me, sick of you acting out like a sophomoric prince, feeling no accountability and taking no responsibility. As usual, it’s all about you.”
He held up a palm. “Hey, now—”
“What, coming a bit too close to home?” Nikki still could have stopped, but dry acreage was being consumed and she had crossed the firebreak. “If all this crap you’re pulling is the death rattle of your bachelorhood, I don’t want to have to stand by and watch it. Let me know when you’re done, or let’s ask ourselves where this relationship is really going.”
Heat left Rook slack-jawed and speechless on the corner while she stormed back toward the police station, the sting of regret already spreading in her heart. Halfway there, she slowed and almost turned back. She thought about running to him for a reset, to start the conversation again and work this out. But Nikki couldn’t bear to have him see her tears.
When Heat stepped out of the women’s room from washing her face and composing herself, raucous laughter drew her to the homicide bull pen. It sounded as if Detective Feller was being taunted by the squad. But when she entered, he was the one laughing the loudest as Ochoa pinched his nose theatrically and Raley and Rhymer fanned the air around Randall with open manila files, calling him “Sasquatch” and “stink ape” and chuckling like frat boys on keg night.
Glad to see some tension getting siphoned off, Nikki eased into the squad room so she wouldn’t quell the fun with the shadow of her authority. But watching Feller’s pals needle him over his grubby beard, ripe clothes, and greasy hat-hair from his extended stakeout only brought more weight to Nikki’s sadness over her blowup with Rook. Things settled, either because they were all laughed out or had caught sight of their captain. “Don’t let me interrupt the horseplay,” she said.
“Horse is right,” called Detective Rhymer. “You getting a good whiff of Secretariat here?” Which kicked off another volley of name-calling and guffaws.
When that had died down, Feller told Heat that his lack of grooming came with a payoff. “I got me my man,” he said with some pride. “Fat Tommy’s persuader.”
“You nabbed Joseph Barsotti? Good for you,” she said. “He finally show up at Fortuna’s Wheel?”
“I gave up on that place after the first night with no action. I figured Fat Tommy had probably let it be known there’d be some attention after Lon King got killed.” He paused. “I really do stink, don’t I?”
Heat took a half step back. “You’re…fine.”