Page 20 of Manner of Death
How do you feel about Thai food?
Sawyer couldn’t have stopped the smile that crossed his face even if he’d tried. It hadn’t even been a day—not even half a day—and Bashir was texting him about dinner. I love Thai food, he sent back, then headed inside to prepare for the next interview and do some looking into the cause of death. Yellow oleander…
“Seriously, why are you so chipper?” Kurt’s grating insistence brought Sawyer back to the moment, and he put his phone down with a sigh. Kurt was like a dog with a bone when he got curious about something; if he didn’t tell him now, Kurt would hound him incessantly.
“I’ve got a date.”
“A…date.”
“Yeah, it’s a thing that people who aren’t married get to do on a regular basis.”
“Fuck you,” Kurt snapped. “Married people go on dates. Molly and I used to go on dates every Friday night. Not lately, of course, but we still order in special and watch a movie together. Who are you supposed to be on a date with?”
“Forget about it.” Yellow oleander…it doesn’t grow wild here. Let’s see if it’s a botanical gardens kind of thing…shit. Sold as a common decorative indoor plant. “So, yellow oleander is—”
“Who is it?”
Sawyer sighed. “Can we talk about this later?” Kurt just stared at him. “Fine, no, you’re right, now’s perfect. I’m going on a date with Dr. Ramin.” He glanced back down at his phone, silently counting down. Three…two…o—
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
“Right,” Sawyer deadpanned. “Because I’m known for that, how I love to kid around.”
“I’m serious! You want to go on a date with Dr. Death? Hey!” He shouted past Sawyer to the cooler, where another detective, Shenandoah Walker, was filling up her water bottle. “Hey Nan, you’re not gonna believe this!”
“Believe what?” Nan was good people, a ten-year veteran on the force and the kind of multitasker and problem-solver who made you understand how she managed two sets of twins at home, but that didn’t mean Sawyer wanted to make her a part of this discussion.
“Shut up, Kurt.”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Kurt chortled, leaning over and getting into Sawyer’s space. He smelled faintly…alcoholic. Shit, was he drinking on the job again? He only did that when he’d had bad news about Molly. “Nan, get a load of this—Sawyer here is going on a date with Dr. Death!”
“Dr. Death?” Nan wrinkled her nose as she came over to join them. “Kurt, you better not be referring to Boyce, because that son of a bitch wouldn’t know how to treat a man right if you laid it out in 3D. He backed into my car outside of Home Depot a month ago—backed into it—and you know what that man said to me?” Nan affected a low voice and a pugnacious, jutting jaw. “Are you blind, Walker? Didn’t you see my Porsche?” She rolled her eyes. “And now that asshole has an Escalade, because I guess he couldn’t do enough damage in a fucking Porsche.”
“It’s not Boyce,” Sawyer said before Nan and Kurt could go off on what an asshole the guy was. He was, but that would just prolong this conversation. “It’s Dr. Ramin.”
“Really?” To his surprise, she smiled. “I thought Dr. Ramin never dated cops.”
Sawyer shrugged. “Apparently I’m an exception.” As long as he doesn’t change his mind.
Please don’t let him change his mind.
“Well, good! He deserves to go out with someone nice. He’s a lovely guy. Damn good at his job, too.” She smiled at Sawyer, showing all of her teeth. “I suggest you try not to fuck this up, hon. God don’t make men like that very often.”
“Nan!” Kurt groaned. “You’re supposed to be on my side with this. A fuckin’ death doc and a cop? It’s a terrible idea.”
“It’s a great idea, and—” Nan sniffed, then sighed. “Kurt. Are you drunk?”
“I am not fucking drunk, how dare you—”
“Don’t you swear at me,” she warned, stepping forward and fixing Kurt with a glare. “You know the kind of trouble you’re courting with this. Was one suspension not enough for you?”
Sawyer frowned. “You were suspended?”
“For drinking on the job,” Nan said acidly. “And not responding to an emergency call that ended with his last partner in the hospital.”
Kurt sagged into his chair, rubbing a hand over his ruddy face. “I’m not drunk.” He refused to make eye contact with Sawyer. “I’m just…taking the edge off.”
“The edge off what?”