Page 67 of Sunset Beach
He cleared his throat. “I talked to Wendy, and asked her to ease up on you a little bit.”
“I’ll bet that went over like a lead balloon,” Drue said.
“You know, you could try a little harder to get along with her,” Brice said. “Like it or not, we’re family. And we work together. Okay?”
“Terrific!” Drue said. “We’ll all hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’ at the next staff meeting.”
Dead silence on the other end of the phone. “Christ!” Brice said. Then he hung up.
28
July 1976
Her orange Camaro was easy to spot in the Boyd Hill Nature Trail parking lot, even though she’d parked at the far end of the lot, under the thick shade of a clump of moss-draped scrub oaks. It was a hot, sticky Monday morning. Not even eight o’clock. He pulled the cruiser nose out next to her car, the one she said her asshole husband had given her for her twenty-first birthday. For her twenty-sixth birthday, which had been six weeks ago, he’d given her a dislocated shoulder.
She lowered her window and looked over. “Thanks for coming. I’m sorry, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
Brice leaned out to get a better look. She’d gotten good at covering the bruises with makeup, but despite the thick pancake and concealer, he could see her left eye was swollen and bruised. And her lip was cut.
“Damnit, Colleen. Why do you put up with this shit? Say the word, and I’ll take care of him. Jimmy and me, we’ll hurt him bad. And he’ll never see us coming.”
She shook her head. She’d fixed her hair so that it fell over the bruised eye. Maybe if you didn’t know to look, you might not even notice. “That’s sweet.But stupid. You’ll just get yourselves into trouble. That’s the last thing I want.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she said.
He got out of the cruiser, walked around and got in the front seat of the Camaro.
She put her arms around his neck and began kissing him. The next thing he knew, she reached down and unzipped his fly.
“Here?” he said, looking around anxiously. “You’ll get us both arrested for public indecency.”
“I don’t care,” she said, fondling him.
He pushed her hand away. “Cut it out. We’ve got guys patrolling this park all the time, looking out for pervs. I could lose my job.”
“In the meantime, I’m losing my mind, I’m so hot for you,” she whispered, taking his hand and putting it beneath her skirt. “Come on. Just a quickie. Nobody has to see.”
Before he could stop her, she’d pulled her top off over her head. Another minute later, she was straddling him.
When they were done, they were both drenched with perspiration and out of breath.
“Jesus,” Brice said, tucking his damp uniform shirt into his pants. “How am I gonna explain this to my sergeant?”
Colleen giggled as she searched the floor of the Camaro for the panties that had gone missing in the heat of the moment.
“Tell him you got hot and sweaty chasing pervs at the nature trail,” she said, waving the scrap of pink lace under his nose.
“Put those on,” he said, batting the panties away. “You act like this is some kind of game.”
“It is a game, as far as I’m concerned,” she said with a shrug. “Come on. Are you telling me you don’t get off on this stuff?”
“It won’t be fun if I get fired for conduct unbecoming an officer, and it sure as hell won’t be fun for you if your husband figures out what’s going on between us.”
She got out of the Camaro and using the car door as a shield, stepped intothe panties, smoothing her skirt and top before getting back in the driver’s seat. Then she pulled down the sun visor and combed her hair back into place and reapplied her lipstick.
“I’m serious, Brice,” she said, turning in the seat so that she was facing him again. “If it weren’t for times like this, being with you, I think I might go crazy.”
“Then leave him,” Brice said. “Get a divorce. You’re young. You’ve got a good job. Why do you need that asshole?”
