Page 18 of Necessary Evil
Chapter 4
BACK AT THE PICNIC
Evan had barely made it back to the multipurpose room when one of the detectives from his old department called him over with drunken good-naturedness. “Evil! C’mere!”
“I’ll be right back. Try not to kick any ass while I’m gone,” Evil said, winking at her.
“You’re no fun,” she called after him.
“I’m a lot of fun,” he said over his shoulder.
She remembered. Oh boy, did she remember.
Making her way over to the bingo tables, she dropped a ten down and collected two cards. The caller was slower than a turtle on Quaaludes, so it wasn’t Lucy’s fault her mind wandered back to the retirement party two years ago.
When Lucy and Evan went back down to the bar area, the wolf whistles reminded her that her hair had been up in a bun when she went up to Evan’s room but now it was hanging down past her shoulders. Evan glared the guys quiet, and his light touch on her back propelled them forward into the crowd. A bunch more people had shown up since she’d gone upstairs. She wanted to run away, but every time she tried to sidle away, Evan tugged her back. After an hour, no one seemed to think twice about her being with Evan. Jenny and Sentinel came up for air and joined them for drinks. Evan introduced her to Warden and Ryder, and it was fun. Then he tried to pull her onto his lap in front of all those cops.
“O sixty-six!”
Lucy remembered that in bingo, O-66 was called the “devil’s number.” A few older women rang bells to chase the devil away.
Speak of the devil…Lucy craned her neck to get a glimpse of Evan leaning on the bar, his back to her. Her gaze lingered on how his jeans fit snugly across his backside.
If she had to do it differently, maybe she would have just let him hold her there on his lap. What the hell had been the big deal anyway? The knowing looks in a few of the cops’ eyes had burned, though. She hadn’t wanted to risk what little respect she had fought for to become just a piece of ass in their eyes.
So she’d fought Evan when he tugged her down, and dumped a full glass of beer in his lap to stop him. It had been easy to slip out the door in the commotion. After that, they had kept each other at arm’s length, both figuratively and literally.
“Bingo!”
Stella, one of the beat cops, punched the air in triumph.
There was good-natured grumbling and Lucy tossed in her cards. “Nice win,” she said, patting Stella on the back as she got up. Then Lucy grabbed another soda and went outside for some fresh air.
The summer heat hadn’t fully hit yet and there was a cool breeze coming from the bay. Lucy lifted up the heavy fall of her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, securing it with a scrunchie she found in her purse.
“Hey, Lucy, you want to play?” Bernie, the fire chief, called over. They were dividing up into teams to play softball.
“Nah, but I’ll keep score, though.” She’d get to sit in a shaded booth and just turn numbers while watching the game. Her brain could use a little mindless activity, and she’d get to be alone without having to go home yet. Her DVD collection could wait a few more hours.
—
“Steeee-rike,” the umpire yelled.
Lucy sighed and watched as the police sergeant who had just struck out went back to the bench to good-natured boos from his teammates.
Her wandering mind should have taken the opportunity to figure out how to get Attorney Meyers to hand over Chloe’s case or how she was going to handle her brother being in the same state. But her thoughts kept going back to Evan and those fantastic kisses in his apartment two years earlier. She couldn’t even remember how long they had been up there—time had stopped as they kissed. Lucy unthinkingly touched her lips with the pads of her fingers. She had had a few dates since then, and she’d even had a brief fling with another attorney at a conference. But none of those guys had rocked her world. Not by a long shot.
The crack of a bat brought Lucy back to the present long enough to see the ball head over the fence. She turned over a number to give the police team a run. Now they had a ball game.
Shaking her head, she forced herself to pay attention, but it had devolved into a shouting match between the umpire and the two team captains, who were arguing over whether the home run had in fact been a foul ball. You could almost smell the testosterone in the air. She was glad she was above that, both physically and emotionally. After watching them waggle their dicks at each other—figuratively speaking, thank God—and get back to the game, Lucy leaned back and fanned herself while finishing her root beer. She wondered if Evan had ended up with the watermelon-boobed chick after all, although Lucy couldn’t remember anyone with that description hanging around the bar that night. Even more depressing, she wondered if after he’d rescued her from her mugger he’d gone back into the bar and done body shots off the two bar skanks.
“Hi, Lucy.”
Lucy gave a guilty jump and eased over as the district attorney sat down next to her. Cynthia Abrahms would never be caught kissing a man in a towel above his bar. It was one of the reasons Lucy didn’t trust her. Cynthia was dressed in a chic tennis dress with immaculate white Chucks. Lucy wished her own outfit was less picnic casual and more classic. Clothing was very much like armor in these situations.
“Cynthia,” Lucy said with a nod. Never “Cindy.” Always “Cynthia.”
“Are you having fun?”