Fitz, Marcus and Lincoln had snuck off to their respective homes to see if they had taken a hit from the storm. Price had to deal with the law enforcement aspects of helping with the cleanup. He wasn’t very popular with the rest of the detectives in the CID at the moment. After a brief meeting with the chief of police, he’d called in all the off duty detectives. They weren’t happy to find they needed to go help Patrol work the roadblocks that had been put up around Nashville to help NES get the power back on.
With everyone gone, Taylor finally felt like she had some breathing room. She and Baldwin stayed in the homicide office, planning their next steps. The storm damage was impeding their ability to cross town to Vanderbilt to interview everyone again, and the phones were all down. The school had been evacuated, the student and administration scattered.
After a frustrating hour of waiting, they gave up, decided to take a break and get some food. She was glad for a momentary respite from the case to clear her head and recharge her batteries.
As they drove out on Interstate 40, circling around downtown, they were impressed at how quickly the clean up was progressing. Many of the streets had already been cleared. The damage was not as severe as it had initially looked, but many trees were uprooted and power lines were strewn across the streets.
Taylor decided it would be best to get out of the way, so she suggested they head back to her side of town to get some dinner. She lived in Bellevue, a small community just west of Nashville. It didn’t take them long to make the drive. The tornado had been confined to downtown. Once past the exits for West End, the streets were relatively clear.
She pulled into a neighborhood restaurant called Jonathan’s, and they went inside. The place was packed, a beehive of activity. It seemed no one wanted to stay at home; they’d all come out to share the day’s excitement. They made their way through the throng of people waiting for tables at the front door and went into the back bar.
They’d been making desultory chitchat on the ride over, mostly about the weather. The memory of her outburst had faded away. More comfortable together now, they ordered beers. Taylor brought out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Baldwin.
Baldwin gave her a grateful grin. “I’d love one, but I quit a few years ago.”
Taylor gave him a smile and lit the cigarette. “So did I.” She took a couple of drags, crushed it out and rose.
“Will you order me some fried clams? I need to go to the bathroom.”
“No problem.” He watched her walk away and saw many heads turn as she pushed through the crowd. He started berating himself. He knew now why he was interested in staying on this case, and it wasn’t only the murders themselves.
Taylor wove her way to the bathroom, grateful to find it empty. She stood in front of the mirror, pretending to smooth down her hair. She could have easily let Baldwin head to his own home, but instead she’d invited him to dinner. There was something about him that made her want to stay in his company. She’d lashed out at him earlier more from fear than anything else. When he’d offered to be there for her if she needed him when they were out on the steps, she’d had a yearning so strong it felt like a blow to the chest. Something about Baldwin had gotten under her skin, and she was furious at herself for letting that happen.
At the same time, she wanted to crumble into his arms, cry on his shoulder, try to explain the frustration, the pain she was feeling. She was lonely. He was the nearest attractive warm body, even if he was screwed up.
She gave herself a once over in the mirror. Knock it off, Taylor. This isn’t right. She nodded to herself in reluctant agreement and went back to Baldwin.
The kitchen had worked quickly; there was a plate of fried clams in front of her seat. She sat, noting that Baldwin had not started eating his cheeseburger. Manners. Hmmm.
Suddenly shy, she dug into her food. The clams were perfect, crunchy and smooth. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She noticed Baldwin was eating his burger as a man condemned, savoring each bite as though it was his last. It brought her up short, and she started laughing.
“You know, they’ll make you more if you want.”
“I feel like I haven’t had a chance to relax and eat in months. You know the other night at Mulligan’s was the first time I’d been in a restaurant for almost six months. I thought I’d savor the moment.”
Taylor saw the opportunity. “I’ve been wanting to ask how you were feeling. You seem to be, what’s a good way of putting it…”
“Better?”
“Yes. Better.”
He took a careful bite of his burger, giving himself a moment before he had to answer. “I guess you could say this case has caught my interest. I have a gut feeling it’s not over by a long shot.”
“The case. Of course.”
He gave her a long look, and her stomach tightened. What the hell was she doing?