A First Date with Death Read Free Page B

“I’m sorry; I got off on the wrong foot with you.”
    Martinez cleared his throat and indicated that officers were waiting outside. Scott and Edward left the RV, the paper-thin door banging repeatedly against the wall as the wind whipped it out of Scott’s hand. Martinez reached out and secured the door.
    When he was sure they were gone he asked, “What the hell are you doing on a reality TV show?”
    I moaned.
    “Are those two of the guys you’re supposed to be dating?”
    I covered my head with the blanket.
    After a moment I said, “Are you here on official business?”
    “Of course,” Martinez said.
    “I fail to see the relevance of my dating life, then.”
    Martinez grumbled. “Okay, tell me what happened.”
    I cataloged the events for him, as though they had occurred to someone else and not me. I supposed that was some stupid defense mechanism. After all, the last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of him and have that get back to Paul.
    Martinez took notes and when I finished, he asked, “You say someone pushed you?”
    I frowned. “Pushed me? No, no. Well, not really. I mean, someone did press against me, but I assumed it was Cheryl just trying to get the scene going.”
    Martinez looked down at his notebook. “Was there an order you guys were supposed to jump in?”
    “What do you mean?” I asked.
    “Who was supposed to jump first?” Martinez asked. “Was it always supposed to be you and Aaron?”
    I shrugged. “I didn’t think we were supposed to jump together. I thought there was a safety distance issue. Anyway, I assumed I’d go last, but maybe I made that up.”
    I was starting to feel fuzzy around the edges.
    “I think the cowboy wanted to go first. But the witch told Aaron and me to go,” I said.
    “Who’s the witch?” Martinez asked. “Becca?”
    I laughed. Only it lasted a little too long and bordered on hysterics.
    I collected myself and said, “I’ll tell her you said that. I meant the other witch, Cheryl.”
    Martinez made a note. “I’ll talk to her again.”
    I sighed. “Yeah, there’ll be a lot of talking. Lawyers, insurance people, even the supes from the city will get involved, I bet. Maybe even his royal highness, the mayor. You suppose he’ll want a little PR out of this horrible accident?”
    “Yeah, you’re probably right. Seems like he always wants publicity.”
    “Who do you think will be the P.I. officer assigned? Kristen?”
    “You know we don’t get involved with that. Doesn’t matter.”
    “It matters.”
    Even as the words tumbled out of my mouth I knew Martinez was right. I was no longer a public information officer. I’d been canned for releasing unauthorized information to the public. I’d been asked by the media about departmental overtime and potential steps to remediate the expense. At that the time I thought I was simply giving my opinion, but I soon learned that I wasn’t allowed an opinion. At least that’s what was made clear to me by the newly appointed police chief. He’d claimed that the overtime forecasts were confidential. City politics at its finest.
    First, I’d been put on administrative detail, a.k.a. the rubber gun squad—where careers go to die.
    Then, after my Skelly hearing, when the review board found me not guilty and recommended I be returned to my post, the decision to terminate me had ultimately been the chief’s. The board only provides “recommendations.” The chief, who reports to the mayor, makes the final decision even if it contradicts the review board.
    I was asked to turn in my badge and gun.
    Boom. Big mouth = career over.
    Martinez tapped my arm. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? Seems like you’re kind of spacey.”
    My eyelids felt heavy, but I managed a nod.
    “How come you haven’t called Brandi?” Martinez continued. “She’s hurt, you know, that you guys don’t talk anymore. She wanted me to tell you that just because you and Paul aren’t together doesn’t mean
she
dumped you.”
    I