Through the evening Garreth mused that the silent cruise did reflect the town mood, as Duncan said. Even in the bars. He took not one drunk and disorderly complaint. Either the usual weekend hard drinkers were doing so quietly or had gone somewhere livelier.
A whole town in mourning. It awed him. The Moscone/Milk murders had shaken San Francisco and produced that massive walk to City Hall, and brought thousands to view the bodies lying in state at City Hall, but it had not shut down the city. Once the cruise petered out, Duncan went off duty, and the bars closed, the graveyard silence of last night enveloped Baumen. Again he seemed the only living — undead — thing walking Kansas or driving through the rest of town. And the rain drizzled gently but steadily.
Like angels weeping.
Who had he heard say that? Probably Grandma Doyle.
Maybe the mood soaked into him, too. He just knew he finished the easiest shift of his career totally exhausted. So on reaching home and finding Maggie on his steps again, this time in civilian clothes, leaning against the garage sound asleep under her slicker, his first impulse was to slip up the stairs past her.
Instead he shook her awake. “Maggie.”
She started, eyes widening and ears reddening. “Oh! Oh my god.” She jumped to her feet.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine! I was just walking and…” Her voice trailed off…casting for an excuse to be here?
He knew why she came…drawn by some vampire pheromone for luring prey. The reason Lane’s one-night stands came begging for more. Even Velvet wanted another go with him, and prostitutes did not enjoy sex. And of course he had strained toward Lane’s mouth in that alley, welcoming her lips, tongue, teeth.
“I mean,” Maggie said hurriedly, “I needed to tell you we’ve cancelled the waffle and sausage feed. It’s always a kind of celebration with family and friends and…I — we — just don’t feel like — Anyway, it’s off.” She started down steps. “I’ll go now.”
He blocked her with an arm. “Please don’t. Come in.”
“No!” She shoved at his arm. Her voice tightened. “I’m not looking for another pity fuck!”
Was that her assessment of it. Why did she beat up on herself? “Did you ever consider I might have needed last night as much as you did?” Maybe he did, remembering how good it felt holding her afterward.
“I didn’t need…” she began heatedly, then broke off to frown suspiciously at him. “You…?”
Could he stand ripping open the old wound for her benefit? “My wife died in a traffic accident last year. Sometimes you need to be reminded you’re alive.” More or less.
Maggie caught her breath. “Your wife… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Instantly sympathetic.
He nodded. “Let’s have tea.”
A hand under her elbow steered her up the steps and inside, where they hung their slickers on the coat rack. He put mugs of water in the microwave again and — oh, hell, he might as well — reached into the fridge for blood.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Of course she would ask. “A liquid protein health and energy drink.” Deal with this head on. Avoid any suggestion of furtiveness. “Try some.” He poured a little into a glass.
She swirled the glass and sniffed. “It looks like blood.”
Jump in with both feet. “It has beef blood in it.” When she wrinkled her nose he said, “There are African tribes who drink a blood and milk mixture as a regular part of their diet. But it is an acquired taste.”
She sipped, grimaced, and pushed away the glass. “It isn’t a taste I want to acquire.”
Which should make his supply safe from further curiosity on her part. She had not even asked where the beef blood came from.
He finished off the blood in the glass, to her obvious disgust, then brought her tea from the microwave and sat down with his. “Look, last night we…comforted each other. Think of it like that.” She started to speak, to protest, from her expression, and he cut her off with: “It’s a human need. I know an ex-hooker in San Francisco who made very good money in World War II meeting that need for soldiers and sailors on leave or shipping out maybe to die. So what happened doesn’t reflect weakness in you. Like I said before, you have bigger balls than many cops I’ve known. Or were you afraid I’d write your name on the restroom wall.”
She went bright red. “I…ah…I…no, I never thought anything like that.”
He smiled at her. “For a cop you’re a terrible liar. But I understand, since you don’t know me well enough to have a better opinion of me than that.”
The red deepened. “I’m sorry. I guess I should get to know you better.”
“I’d like that.”
She eyed him for several moments, then suddenly stood, with the look of someone acting before she lost her nerve, and unbuttoned her jeans. “These are wet. Can I dry them before I leave?”
Even given the vampire lure, that surprised him. Still, to be a gentleman, he should rise to the occasion, right? He stood, too. “Do you need help out of them?”
This time they unfolded the bed, and in comfort, proceeded slowly, exploring each other. Though they ended as fiercely and explosively as last night.
“Wow!” Maggie collapsed on him. “Wow!” Rolling off, she snuggled against him. “Yee-haw.”
It had to be the vampire thing. Not even Marti, unstinting in her enthusiasm, ever gave him a wow yee-haw. Nice to know unlife had one benefit.
He did not remember falling asleep, but woke near sunset to find a note by the pillow. Your energy drink certainly seems to work for you. It may not be to my taste but you are. I think, and hope I’m not misjudging you again, that we need to “comfort” each other regularly. And maybe even find a time we can go on an actual date. I tried waking you before I left for Mass, but you were dead to the world. I could hardly tell you were breathing. See you at the station. Maggie.
14
She saw him…but other than giving him a warm and breezy greeting — countering the continued drizzle outside — said nothing hinting at last night, nor indicated any change in their relationship with her body language. Then she came out of the locker room with her purse and paused to eye Nat, standing at the forms rack dropping reports into the Return To Officer box.
“I never noticed before, Sarge, but you have a nice butt. Yours isn’t bad either, Mikaelian.”
And took off down the hall, out the rear entrance.
Nat and Sue Ann stared after her. Garreth made himself do likewise while grinning inwardly. Nice move, making him an “afterthought” in her wisecrack. He had no trouble accepting the way she wanted to play this. Around here he doubted it could be kept quiet long, but when they were found out, Maggie might be ready for the smart remarks and tasteless practical jokes sure to follow.
“That’s a first,” Nat said. “I wonder what got into her.”
“Or who,” Sue Ann said.
Garreth ticked his tongue. “Don’t tell me you think getting laid is the answer to whatever ails a woman.”
“Yes,” she shot back, “…and for whatever ails a man, too. I know it’s always good for my Leland’s tension.” She wiggled her brows, then narrowed her eyes at him. “Wouldn’t hurt you, either, Garreth.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, and escaped before she saw more than he wanted.
Rain continued until about three, giving him another quiet shift. With Maggie waiting for him in the dark in his apartment when he reached home.
She blushed. “Helen Schoning stopped me outside the municipal court today and gave me a key. She said she’s afraid I’ll catch pneumonia on the steps. I’ll give it back if you don’t want me to have it.”