More Than Friends (8 page)

“Absolutely. Give me the address.” She grabbed a pen and small notepad and jotted down the location.

“Thank you. I’ll meet you over there.”

*

Evelyn pulled her patrol car to the curb behind Melanie’s truck and surveyed the house in front of her. Several large trees shaded the small bungalow. Like every other place on the block, the owner had painted the exterior and trim in bright contrasting colors. But the attempt at individuality somehow made them all look the same.

She hit the button on her laptop computer that indicated to dispatch that she was on-scene and unavailable for calls, then climbed out of the car. Melanie stood in the driveway next to a white utility trailer.

Evelyn waved and warmth spread through her chest when Melanie smiled. She circled the car and headed down the walk toward her without hesitation. It had been too long since she’d seen Melanie.

When she reached the driveway, Melanie rocked forward on her toes, then back again, and Evelyn realized she’d just stifled the urge to hug her. Melanie’s eyes shifted briefly down her body then back to her face. Kendall didn’t like to be hugged in public while in her uniform. Evelyn didn’t remember ever actually agreeing with her, but she also couldn’t recall a single time when Melanie hugged her while she was dressed for work either.

“Hey, Mel.”

“Thanks for coming down.”

She examined the broken padlock that hung lopsided in the hasp of the trailer door. “Is this your trailer?”

Melanie nodded. “They broke a window in the back door of the house and got inside, too. The owner is pretty wound up. He’s inside.” Her eyes held an apology for the attitude Evelyn was about to get from the property owner.

If Evelyn looked between the two houses across the street, she could see several known drug houses. She already knew what to expect when she went in to make this report. This guy wasn’t the first to purchase and renovate a historic house only a few streets away from a high-crime area. The neighborhood would eventually change, slowly becoming more upscale, safer, and trendy. But the first wave of buyers should expect to make these repeated calls for police assistance.

“I’ll start with him, knock out his report, then we’ll do yours.”

“Let’s go inside and I’ll introduce you.” Melanie led her up the front steps. She pulled open the screen door and called out to the owner before entering.

They passed through the foyer and rounded the corner into an open living room lit by work lights on tripods in each corner. A beefy man with a shaved head wedged a crowbar into a piece of molding around the hearth. The muscles of his shoulders flexed against his sleeveless shirt as he worked it until the strip of wood came free with a resounding pop. In the silence that followed, Evelyn’s boots echoed on the dulled hardwood floor.

He straightened and turned, still holding the pry bar. His eyes dipped to the silver nameplate on the right side of her chest, obviously taking note of her name in case she didn’t handle the issue to his satisfaction.

“Paul Baxter,” he said, as he bent and leaned the bar against the wall.

“I understand you had a break-in last night, Mr. Baxter.” She used her most professional tone. “Was it the back door?”

“Yes. I’ll show you.”

As he strode across the room, Melanie tilted her head indicating she would be outside, and Evelyn nodded.

“Are you doing all the work yourself?” she asked as she followed him. She hadn’t seen evidence of any other workers in the house.

“Everything inside. I’ll need to contract out some projects outside. And of course, I hired your friend out there to do the flowers.”

She didn’t like the dismissive way he talked about Melanie’s work, as if it was as simple as sticking some plants in the ground. But she didn’t comment, focusing instead on the broken pane in the door where the suspect got in. “Do you know what time this took place?”

“I worked late, left about ten, and discovered the broken window at six a.m. Neighborhood thugs, no doubt.”

“Did anyone see the suspects?”

“If they did, they’re not talking to me. But I’m an outsider around here. So that’s how it usually is, isn’t it?” She almost expected a nudge and a wink along with this statement.

“Overnight—it’s not uncommon to not have witnesses. Most people are asleep, and only your closest neighbors might have heard breaking glass, anyway. Have you touched this door or the frame at all?”

“No.”

She made several notes regarding the forced entry and called dispatch to request a crime-scene tech for fingerprints. When the dispatcher responded “I’ll put you in line,” she knew the few officers covering the county must be backed up with calls. She advised Mr. Baxter about the wait time and told him what to do in the meantime.

When she finished taking his report, she went outside to find Melanie. The front yard was empty, so she circled to the back. Inside the privacy fence, which last night had helped shield a thief at work, she discovered a hidden garden. Lush green plants, accented with brightly colored flowers, lined the walkway. Shoots of new vines crawled up a lattice archway, and she could imagine how beautiful the area would be as the plants matured.

An outdoor sofa and chairs circled a fireplace and created a quaint conversation area steps away from the back door. She spotted a few well-hidden path lights and suspected there were a number more she didn’t see that would adequately light the walk at night.

“How do you have this much color so early in spring?” she asked when she saw Melanie kneeling next to a flower bed situated inside a bend in the path.

“We had such a warm winter that things are coming up and flowering earlier than usual. Some of our plants are local, but some come from even warmer climates. As long as we don’t get another hard frost, this stuff will be okay.”

“So you’re taking a chance?” She recalled a few years ago when it had been warmer than usual and the trees had all budded, but then temperatures dropped for about a week and killed most of the greenery.

“Yes. If it freezes, I’ll have to replace some of it, but he wants it done now so we’ll risk it.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Melanie stood and swiped her hands across the thighs of her well-worn jeans, leaving smears of dark soil. “But Lucas gets most of the credit. I’ve started letting him take on some of the design work. He’s really very talented.”

“He certainly is. Does Mr. Baxter know that
a man
did most of his design?”

“I don’t know. Why?” With the back of her still-dirty hand, Melanie pushed at a wisp of hair in her face. When the stubborn strand fell back down, Evelyn moved forward, intending to help her. But Melanie grabbed it and shoved it behind her ear, leaving her standing a little too close for casual conversation.

“Um—no reason.” How had she never noticed the dark ring around the grassy green of Melanie’s irises?

“Okay.”

She took two steps back, restoring comfortable space between them. “He just strikes me as a bit of a chauvinist.”

“I got that from him, too.”

“How bad were you hit last night?”

“I’ve got a list out front by the trailer.”

“Okay, great. Let’s go out there.” She wanted to escape the intimate backyard and return to the very public front of the house. Perhaps that would keep her from noticing how Melanie’s perfume mingled with the earthy smell of the soil she’d had her hands in.

*

“Thanks again. I know I could have just called dispatch, but—”

“It’s no problem.That’s what friends are for.”

Melanie nodded, trying to ignore the twinge of bitterness in response to Evelyn’s words.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Evelyn touched her arm. “What’s going on?”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

“Of course.”

“I—uh—I just—since the split, I feel like you took her side.” Did she sound petty? She’d tried to ignore the feeling that all of their former friends had dropped her, Evelyn among them. Other than a few texts inquiring after her well-being, she hadn’t seen or spoken to Evelyn in a couple of months.

In truth, many of their friends had been Kendall’s friends when they got together. Melanie had been working so hard to build her business when they met that she hadn’t had much time for socializing. Maybe she felt Evelyn’s absence even more because they’d grown close to her together. She and Kendall had been together for two years already when Kendall and Evelyn started working together.

“Mel, no. It seemed like she needed me more. You—you’re strong.”

“Maybe not as strong as you think.” Perhaps she should have been more honest in her replies to those texts. Instead, she’d answered with a generic reassurance that she was okay.

“You always seem to hold everything together. Hell, Kendall would have been lost without you, and, at times, I’m pretty sure I would have, too.”

“Sure, the little stuff, I can handle. But we’re talking about the end of a seven-year relationship. Do you really think I didn’t fall apart just as much as she did?”

“I’m sorry, Mel. I know it has to be hard for you, too.”

“I’m working through it. This is what happens when people split up, right? Their friends take sides.”

“I’m not taking sides.”

“But you’re naturally going to be closer to one of us than the other. It’s okay, I understand. You have more in common with Kendall.”

“Jesus, Mel, she was sleeping in my guest room. What was I supposed to do, invite you over for coffee?”

She pressed her thumb and forefinger to her forehead, over her eyes. “No. Of course not. I’m sorry.”

Evelyn sighed. “Don’t be sorry. You’re not wrong, I should have called you.”

She shook her head. She hadn’t intended this to be a pity party. “It’s in the past. Bygones and all. I don’t know if Kendall and I will ever be able to be friends.”

“Sure you will, that’s what lesbians do,” Evelyn joked.

She smiled. “Maybe. But either way, I hope you and I can still be in each other’s lives.” She didn’t know how not to put Evelyn in the middle to some degree, but she couldn’t just concede Evelyn’s friendship. So she said exactly what was in her heart. “I miss you.”

When she met Evelyn’s eyes, she relaxed a little. Evelyn’s brows drew up over her velvety brown eyes and she realized that no matter what had happened with Kendall, she hadn’t lost her friend.

The front door of the house banged open and Evelyn’s gaze shifted quickly toward the sound. Paul came out carrying an armload of scraps and headed for the construction dumpster nearby.

“I should get back to work.” Evelyn handed her a card, her tone professional in case Paul overheard, but her expression held friendly familiarity. “There’s your report number. Wait a day or two for it to be processed, and then you can go down to records and get a copy.”

“Thanks again.” She followed Evelyn down the drive and paused beside her car.

Once inside the car, Evelyn rolled down the window. “It was good to see you.”

“You, too.”

“Hey, are you busy tomorrow night?”

“No.”

“I’m meeting some of the girls out at the bar. You should come with me.”

“I don’t think so. Kendall and I aren’t ready to hang out yet, even in a group.”

“Kendall—won’t be there. Don’t you need a night out of the house?”

Maybe she could use a little distraction. And going with Evelyn could help ease her back into the social scene. She’d have a few drinks and let loose a little, and if she had a few too many, she could trust Evelyn to take care of her.

Chapter Seven

“Wow, it really has been a long time since I’ve been out dancing.”

Evelyn laughed. A dance mix set a pulsing rhythm for the flashes of strobes and laser lights that cut through the smoky air. “Yeah, it’s not Indigo-Girls-wannabes playing lesbian dive bars anymore.”

“Shit, I don’t want to do this again.” Melanie looked as if she might bolt.

“Hey, hey, come on.” She grabbed Melanie’s hand. “You don’t have to frequent the clubs. But for tonight, let’s just go with it.” She spotted Jennifer over by the bar, so without waiting for a response, she pulled Melanie behind her as she wove through the crowd.

“Hey, Jenn. You remember Melanie.”

“Yeah, right. How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Have you been here long?” she asked. Judging from the glassy, unfocused look in Jennifer’s eyes, she was quite a few drinks ahead of them.

Jennifer slung her arm around Evelyn’s shoulder. “Not too long. But I’ve been waiting for you.” Jennifer poked her shoulder a little too hard. She caught Melanie’s amused, questioning look and shrugged.

“Where’s your new girl? I want to meet her.”

“She’s not coming.” Jennifer waved a hand in a sweeping gesture. “Apparently she didn’t think we were exclusive yet, and she has a date tonight.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. But if you want to be exclusive you could just tell—”

“Come dance with me.” Jennifer grabbed her hand and pulled her into the gyrating throng.

As soon as they reached the dance floor, Jennifer pressed close to her, rolling her hips against Evelyn’s. Evelyn backed up, but she bumped into someone behind her. She turned far enough to make eye contact and offer an apologetic wave. Jennifer molded to her and wound her arms around her neck.

“Jenn, what are you doing?” She had to lean close to Jennifer’s ear in order to be heard over the music.

“Just dancing, baby.” Jennifer pressed her lips to the side of her neck. When Jennifer touched her tongue to the sensitive area below her ear, a swift surge of heat flushed her body.

She protested weakly. “Sure feels like more than dancing.”

“Feels good, hmm?”

It really did. Her recent dry spell, coupled with Jennifer’s blatant sex appeal, had her libido primed and firing. But when Jennifer slid her hands down the front of Evelyn’s shirt, she caught her wrists before she reached her breasts. Under her fingers, Jennifer’s pulse beat as rapidly as Evelyn’s. If she was interested in casual sex tonight, this would be the perfect scenario. Her history with Jennifer would eliminate any potential misunderstandings about the level of intimacy between them.