What Janie Saw(103)

                Janie smiled weakly.

                “You’re here with Rafe?” By his tone, Nathan was surprised.

                “Yes, he’s making sure I stay out of trouble.”

                “Hmm.”

                Janie tried to interpret his hmm, but the attempt only took her mind back to wondering if she was business or pleasure. She wasn’t feeling much like business at the moment, but she wasn’t sure if her psyche could take the idea of becoming involved with a cop. Yet, so far, this evening had been one more reminder of why Janie should give officers more of a chance: it had been a night of camaraderie and fun.

                Someone shouted from the back of the room. Nathan excused himself and ambled toward the commotion.

                “He’s a good cop,” Mitzy said.

                High praise, but Janie was still wary of the detective. There was just something about the way Nathan had acted early on in the investigation.

                “My sister lives in Adobe Hills,” Mitzy continued, “and her husband is a detective on the force. Sometimes his cases cross over to the DEA or into Nathan’s authority. We go to my sister’s for dinner about every other week. Nathan often joins us. Apparently their issues with the drug trade have escalated in the last five years, especially meth.”

                Janie searched again for Rafe. He should be hearing this. But maybe he already knew.

                “Nathan’s responsible for keeping more dealers off the streets than anyone else,” Mitzy continued.

                More likely Justin was responsible, but Justin couldn’t take the credit, because he was undercover.

                Mitzy wasn’t finished. “I just wish Nathan would find somebody. He’s never gotten over his divorce. Foolish woman. Imagine being loved that much and throwing it away.”

                Janie looked over at Nathan. He was standing at the rear of the buffet line, alone, the only Robinson Crusoe in the room. It was hard to imagine this man cozying up to a relationship.

                Mitzy followed Janie’s gaze. “He worshipped her. I remember thinking how lucky she was. How lucky I am.” As if proving her point, her husband arrived and handed her a full plate and kissed the top of her head before taking off again. A server stopped at their table to refill their iced tea.

                “Was it a nasty divorce?” Janie asked.

                “I don’t know all the details, but his young wife got addicted to drugs and wasn’t willing to stop using. I guess Nathan tried interventions, sent her to rehab, everything. One day, she just packed up and left. He was devastated.”

                The buffet line moved forward, Nathan with it. Maybe, Janie wondered, his uptight stance and the rigid set of his shoulders had more to do with pain than with misplaced pride.

                She pitied him, though he probably wouldn’t appreciate the emotion.

                Like Rafe, he appeared to be a man who garnered respect from everyone he met.

                Not that respect, or rank, was helping either Nathan or Rafe earn front-of-the-line privileges at this event. Parking was one thing, food another. Grinning like the cat who ate the canary, Rafe returned, setting a serving of lasagna, garlic bread and salad in front of her and then scanning the crowd to find what had her attention.

                It didn’t take him long to figure it out. “Nathan? What’s Nathan doing here?”