“It’s here.” Rox glanced back at the police officer while she separated the loyalty rewards cards and credit cards and gym ID with her fingernails. “I swear to God, it’s in here.”
“Take your time.” The officer examined the small book and asked Casimir, “Is this real?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
“We don’t see this kind of thing very often.”
Casimir shrugged. “I can call someone, if you’d prefer.”
“It’s no problem. I just have to check it out.”
Among the cluster of cards in her wallet, Rox found her driver’s license. She put her thumb over the picture lest Casimir see that horrible photo and held it out to the police officer. “Found it.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll just run these.” The officer walked back to her car and bent to get in the front seat.
“What was that?” Rox asked.
Cash raised one eyebrow. “What?”
“That passport. That diplomatic passport.”
“I carry a diplomatic passport. It gets me out of parking tickets.”
“This isn’t a parking ticket.”
“And we didn’t do anything wrong. We were the victims of a crime, and the passport will help smooth things over.”
“Why does a lawyer need a diplomatic passport?”
He was looking straight at her, and while he didn’t look angry, he did look like he was wearing his resting bitch face, the stern expression that he put on when dealing with antagonistic opposing counsel. “All Dutch citizens carry a diplomatic passport. There are only fifty of us.”
Rox said, “I call bullshit.”
“Fine, but let’s talk about this later.”
“Oh, we will. You can count on that.”
A small smile sneaked through his blank expression. “I suppose we shall.”
Four more police cars sped into the parking lot, sirens blaring and rollers flashing. They surrounded the first police car and their SUV.
“Cash, is there something you need to tell me?” Rox raised her hands slowly, making no sudden moves that might be misinterpreted.
The police officers in the other cars hopped out, drew their handguns, and faced outward, surveying the parking lot around them.
“What the heck is going on?” Rox asked him.
“We’ve been the victim of a violent crime,” Casimir said. “Surely the police are here to protect us.”
The first police officer came back to the car and handed them back their identification. “Thank you, sir, ma’am. You’re free to go. Do you require any additional assistance, a tow truck or medical assistance? Do you need a ride home?”
“Uh, no thanks?” Rox had never heard of a police officer offering someone a ride in California.
Back home, sure. Back home, a police officer might offer to drive you home if you were coming out of a bar and hadn’t gotten into your car yet, just to make sure everyone got home safely.
But in California? That was weird.
“Thank you, officer,” Casimir said. “We would appreciate a ride back to my house.”
“We don’t need a ride,” Rox told him. “We could just call a cab, or I could call Brandy or Wren or somebody to give us a lift.” She turned to the police officer. “I’m sure that we don’t need to trouble you.”
“I believe that you would be safer in an official vehicle with a police escort, ma’am,” she said.
One of the other officers, also a woman, looked back over her shoulder and said, “You should accept our offer, sir. I’ll drive you.”
“I was the responding officer,” the first police officer called back at her. When she turned her head, Rox could see that her black hair was braided into a complicated bun on the back of her head. “I’ll drive them home.”
“I took the diplomatic defensive driving course, and I outrank you,” the other lady officer retorted.
“But I am the responding officer!”
Rox leaned over to Cash and whispered, “Lord Almighty, you haven’t slept with both of them, have you?”
“No,” Casimir said. “It’s the diplomatic passport. It brings out the best in everyone.”
She squinted at him, but she couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.
Casimir called out, “Thank you, officers. We would be most grateful for a ride home.”
THE HACIENDA, AGAIN
The entourage of police vehicles dropped them off at Casimir’s house.
Rox walked inside without holding on to anything. Waves of weakness ran up her legs. She was almost falling off her heels, and she stood inside the house right next to the door from the garage, leaning against the wall.