Arilyn groaned. “Poppy! That was between us.”
Stone laughed. Her skin grew more flushed. He couldn’t wait to show her the many ways he intended to make her blush later. “Me? I’ve been a model student. Besides, aren’t you supposed to lead by example? Seems you have a bit of a temper yourself.” He tugged at her hair and she gave him the familiar glare he knew and was beginning to like.
“I refuse to allow you to bait me tonight. Stone, this is my neighbor Mrs. Blackfire.”
Stone straightened and entered the senior firing squad. He offered his hand. “A pleasure to meet you again, ma’am.”
She shook his hand with pure suspicion. “I know who you are. Why aren’t you in uniform?”
“I’m off duty now.”
“What if something happens and the town needs you? The board said you were short staffed. That’s how drug dealers invade small towns, you know. Lack of police supervision.”
“That’s true. A solid reminder not to bother the police unless it’s urgent.”
She sniffed. “Are you referring to me personally, Officer?”
Stone grinned. “Were you the one who called three times to make a citizen’s arrest on the poor kid who delivers newspapers?”
“I caught him spying through my window. He may have been trying to see me in a compromising position.”
A shudder shook him at that visual. Patrick looked amused, though, and seemed to be a bit sweet on her. Interesting. “The paper got caught in one of the bushes and Pete knows how you like it centered on the front porch. You almost got him fired.”
“If he can’t throw, he shouldn’t be hired for such a position.”
“He’s twelve.”
“Good, he’ll learn early.”
Oh, yeah. This was gonna be a fun night.
Patrick eyed the six-pack of IPA and lunged for it. “You brought beer! My kind of guy!”
He caught Arilyn’s eye roll and held back a laugh. “Just one, Poppy! I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. And it’s IPA, my fave. Joan, wine?”
Mrs. Blackfire sniffed. “Half of a glass, please. I noticed that tree branch is still overgrown. It’s sticking out on my property. If you had let my tree guy cut it, we wouldn’t have this problem.”
Arilyn sighed. “You wanted to cut it down, not trim it!”
“A good thing they gave me back my money. I can’t afford to waste money with Social Security.”
Patrick interrupted, his tone firm. “Joan, I thought we discussed the tree. It’s not a danger, and Arilyn won’t cut it down. But if we’re going to have a nice dinner together, we no longer bring up the tree. Agreed?”
Silence descended. Stone held his breath, even though he had no idea what was going on. Somehow, he sensed a shift and didn’t know if it was going to be good or bad.
Mrs. Blackfire grunted. “Fine. Make it a full glass of wine, please.”
“You got it.”
Patrick smiled and winked.
Arilyn looked surprised. There was definite history between her and the neighbor. In Stone’s experience, neighbors made for the most dramatic fights in cop history. Stone walked into the small kitchen and began pouring the drinks. “Something smells good.”
She pushed her hair over her shoulder, donned oven mitts, and began serving. “Lasagna.”
“One of my favorites.” His stomach grumbled on cue. “I skipped lunch.”
She shot him a glare. “That’s not good, Stone. You should keep a granola bar in your car, or some fruit. It’s not good for your body to slip into starvation mode. Messes up your metabolism.”
“My shifts have been switched around since I got back to work.”
“How long have you been a cop?” Patrick asked.
Stone handed Mrs. Blackfire her wine, uncapped an IPA for himself, and checked on Arilyn. She seemed to have everything under control in the kitchen, so he sat down on one of the stools. He sucked at anything domestic anyway. She might as well find that out now. “Enrolled in the academy after graduation. Worked the Bronx for a number of years, then transferred to Verily.” He left out all the important parts.
“Tough neighborhood. Needed a break?”
“You could say that.” He pictured Arilyn’s ears pricking. “Got into a bad situation on a domestic abuse case. Things got ugly. I had to transfer. I picked Verily.”
He took a sip of his beer and waited for the twenty questions. Hell, it was the truth, and he had nothing to hide. Patrick swigged his beer, stretched out his feet clad in old-man shoes, and nodded. “Yeah, that’s how that stuff works. I kinda lost it in Nam years ago. I was commanded to take out a child for getting too close. Kids back then held grenades like stick candy, but it was my instinct to protect. I couldn’t do it.” His lively green eyes dulled as he got sucked back into the memory. “Damn war was so dirty. Good guys and bad began to blur. Anyway, I refused, citing my moral obligation to protect, so my officer commanded Bill Evans to listen to his order instead. Bill did. Shot the kid right in front of us. I think about Bill all the time. Remember his name, and think of that big chain-type restaurant. I think of how bad I wished Bill had gotten out clean and opened up a food chain empire.”