Page 51 of A Dye Hard Holiday

“Take this with you,” I said, gesturing to the masturbation device on my desk. “Here, you can carry it out in this.” I pulled one of the plastic bags I use to line my trash can from the bottom drawer of my desk. Robert grabbed the bag from me and put his Fleshlight in it. “Don’t even think about it,” I said when he looked longingly at his confiscated joints.

“You’re totally going to smoke my weed,” Robert tossed over his shoulder on the way out of my door.

Adrian popped his head in as soon as they left. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked when he spotted the baggie on my desk.

“Yep,” I told him. “Mind logging that into the evidence room?”

“No problem,” my former partner said. “So, what happened?”

“You wouldn’t believe me. Hell, at one point, I thought about calling you in here so you could witness it for yourself.”

“Oh, come on, Gabe. It can’t be that good.”

“Sit down.”

I told him the entire story from start to finish, making sure to mimic the tones they used. Of course, I saved the best part for last.

“Fleshlight!” Adrian said, clutching his stomach from laughing so hard.

“Yep! She thought it was his Sara Jane pipe.”

“Shut up!” Adrian said through his laughter. “Oh my God.”

“You ready to head out and start knocking on some doors?” I asked after he stopped laughing and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Sure, but your day is going to be a complete downer from here on out.”

In relation to the case, I thought he could be right, but I knew there was a very bright spot awaiting me that night.My Sunshine. I wouldn’t allow myself to think about that or I’d lose my focus.

I saw O’Malley barreling toward us as soon as we stepped out of my office. “Captain, a Channel Eleven news van just pulled in.”

“What?”

“They must’ve picked up the story on the AP wire, or…” O’Malley’s words trailed off, but I knew what he was going to say.

Josh!There’s no way he would’ve called his producer and asked them to interview me. No fucking way! Just in case, I called him. “Tell me you didn’t do this,” I said when he answered.

“Do what?” he asked. He was confused, not playing coy.

“Never mind,” I said as the crime beat reporter got out of the van and started walking toward the police station. “I’ll tell you all about it—” I heard Josh’s muffled voice as he covered the phone to talk to someone.

“Oh my God! Channel Eleven is there?”

“How’d you know that? They just got here.”

“My client got a call from her neighbor whose daughter saw the van pull into the station parking lot.”

“She called her mom, who called your client, who told you all before the reporter could get inside the building?”

“You’ve lived here long enough that you shouldn’t still be surprised by the speed of gossip.”

“Faster than light,” I jokingly said.

“News travels fast, bad news travels faster,” Josh added.

“Jessica Stanley just walked in, Sunshine. Gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

“Captain Roman-Wyatt,” she said cheerfully as she approached me. “It’s been a while. How are you?”