Haydon Cliff Box Set

Chapter 3

Chapter 3I awoke to the tune of some ancient rock song I couldn’t quite recognize in my half-sleep.

“Lopez,” Edgar said gruffly from the spot next to me in the bed. I could hear the rumblings of someone speaking on the other end of his cellphone but I couldn’t make out words. Edgar sat up straight. “All right. Okay. Yeah, I will. Give me an hour or so.”

I blearily blinked at the time on the ceiling. 3:00 AM.

Edgar put down his phone.

“A case?” I asked.

“No.” He rested his hand on my bare leg. “Family stuff. My sister showed up at my mother’s. She had a fight with her boyfriend again.”

“And what’s that got to do with you?”

I felt him shrug. “Mom wants me there. Probably wonders if she can press charges or something.”

“You want me to go with you?” Honestly, I hoped not. I wanted to stay in bed. We had the next couple of days off unless there was new information on the homeless case. There was another homicide team, Crane and Smith, who also worked the case as secondary. We shouldn’t be needed as they’d give us reports on any interviews or share any findings they might discover.

“No, you stay in bed. Family s**t is unpleasant. I’ll save you from my morning breath.” He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’m going home to shower first.”

I saw his shadowed body rise from the bed. “All right, see you.” I almost said the dreaded words, “call me,” but it was stupid. Edgar always called me anyway.

I heard him leave my apartment less than five minutes later. I stumbled out of bed and went to the front door to secure the deadbolt, then stumbled right back to bed. I was sore from his second-of-the-night f*****g and exhausted besides.

I was probably asleep before my head hit the pillow.

* * * *

When I woke again, the time above me read 9:00 AM. I debated lazing in bed for a while longer, but ultimately rose and headed for the shower. By the time I made it to my kitchen for coffee, about half an hour had passed.

As I waited for the coffee to brew, I grabbed a pad of paper to make a list for the grocery store. And then my cell vibrated, indicating I had received a text.

Come to my house for dinner?

Edgar.

I texted back…

What for?

To have dinner. Why do you think? Like 4?

Okay, so we’d had dinner before. Nothing new about that. We’d become friends since becoming partners. To refuse now would be weird.

Ok

So I fixed myself breakfast, went over some reports despite it being my day off, then did the grocery shopping before heading over to Edgar’s place. I’d packed a change of clothes in a small overnight bag, but I intended to keep that in the trunk of my car. I had a pretty good idea Edgar intended for us to f**k, but even if I allowed that—which I probably would—that didn’t mean I’d stay over. I’d play that by ear.

Edgar had a house not far from the main beach of Haydon Cliff. He’d owned it for years and had bought it with some inheritance he’d gotten while in his early twenties from a family member. He’d told me many times that it had been dirt cheap and had been previously owned by a widow who had moved in with her daughter in San Diego. It wasn’t a large house, more like a cozy little bungalow with just three bedrooms and one small bathroom. Built years before builders planned grand master bedroom suites as part of the floor plan. Edgar talked of someday expanding the bathroom, but he hadn’t done so yet.

I parked my sedan in front of his house and immediately noticed his mom’s little hybrid hatchback parked in the driveway. Edgar hadn’t mentioned his mom would be there. I got out of my car and turned to survey the ocean. It was a cold, overcast day, as many were in Haydon Cliff, but the view was still breathtaking. I doubted I could ever afford a view like this.

I went up the walkway just as the front door opened and Edgar’s mom came out. She smiled warmly.

“Scott! How lovely to see you.” She came forward and embraced me. She pulled back. “You look tired.”

“Maybe a little,” I admitted.

“It’s this case, no? I asked my son if I was safe. He said yes. But you never know, do you?”

“So far it’s only been homeless people, Mrs. Lopez.”

“Deena. So far, yes. But if it’s a serial killer—”

“Mama, there’s no evidence of that,” Edgar declared, coming up behind her. He gave me an apologetic smile. “She’s just leaving.”

“My own son throwing me out.”

“I am not.” He rolled his eyes. “She really was just leaving.”

Edgar’s mom waved her hand at him in a chopping motion, then returned her attention to me. “Are you sure you’re not gay, Scott?”

“Mama!”

“Hush. My son needs a nice boy like you to settle down with. I worry.”

I smiled. “I don’t really think Edgar’s looking to settle down any time soon.”

She grimaced. “I know. And who knows? Maybe it’s not such a good idea anyway. Look at my Gloria.”

Gloria was, of course, Edgar’s sister.

She squeezed my hand. “I really am leaving. See you soon, Scott?”

“Yes, Mrs. Lopez.”

“Deena!” she called over her shoulder as she headed to the hatchback.

We waved as she drove off. When I turned to face Edgar, he was staring at me rather intently.

“Sorry about that. She dropped by unexpectedly. She forgot to give me something when I was at her place earlier.”

I shrugged. “I’d hardly stop you from having your mother over.”

Edgar gestured to the front door. “Come in.”

I entered his house and he followed me inside, closing the door behind him.

“I thought we’d have baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy and a veggie. That okay with you?”

“Sure, whatever. Kind of fancy though. You feeling all right?” I joked.

“Something wrong with having a nice dinner?”

“Nope. We just never have. Usually you grill burgers and dogs.”

“It’s a little chilly to be outside grilling,” Edgar said as he went into his kitchen. “Beer? Wine? Tequila?”

I stared at him. “What kind of wine?”

“Uh. Hang on.” Edgar opened the refrigerator and peeked inside. “White Cabernet. I found it at the store today.”

Found it at the store? With a shrug, I said, “Sure, I’ll have some.”

He nodded and took out the wine and two glasses.

I leaned against the counter while I watched him open the bottle and pour me a glass, which he handed to me. It was a slightly darker pink than White Zinfandel.

“What are you doing?” I asked at last, wondering when Edgar had started dating me.

He blinked, clearly startled by the question. “Huh?”

“What is this, Edgar?”

“Dinner.”

“Right. But you and me. Okay, the first night was mostly me. But last night and today. Are we a thing now?”

Edgar scrunched up his face. “Do we have to put some kind of label on it? We’re partners. Friends.”

“And now…what? Lovers? s****l partners?”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Edgar asked.

I shook my head and took a sip of the wine. “We’re not exactly compatible”

“How so?” He raised both eyebrows. “We’re both cops. Both work homicide. We enjoy a lot of the same things. We live in the same city. We’re both gay.” He stared hard at me. “Aren’t we?”

“You have to ask that?”

“Well, really, Scott, until the day before yesterday you gave me zero clue you were into guys. You kissing me and pretty much throwing yourself at me was my first f*****g clue.”

I flinched. “Yeah, okay. So I attacked you.”

“Yeah, you did. And I’m not really complaining about that. You’re hot. I’m not going to pretend I don’t find you attractive because that would be completely ridiculous at this point. But you never even mentioned an attraction to guys before. Even when I talked about it. I didn’t know you were in the closet.”

“I’m not. Not exactly. But I don’t think we should go around announcing two gay cops are partnered together.”

“Probably not,” Edgar acknowledged. “But I thought I was your best friend. And you never let on at all.”

Best friend? I didn’t really think of myself as having a best friend. Sure, Edgar and I were good friends. Like most partners ended up being. We’d do some things together, occasionally. But we didn’t spend all our free time together. Lots of days off went by without me seeing Edgar. Especially when he went cruising for his latest pickups. I didn’t want any part of that, though he’d never asked me since he hadn’t known my s****l preferences.

For me, it had been a long time since I’d actually gone on a date. Longer still since I had anyone I could call a boyfriend.

“Anyway, whatever your reason for being secretive, I know now,” Edgar said. “And like I said, can’t we just…enjoy this, whatever it is, without having some big discussion about where we’re going and what we are and all that?”

We could, I guessed. But the thing was, I knew what I said to Edgar’s mom was true. He wasn’t ready to settle down. And I was going to end up hurt.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Even as I said those words, I knew I’d end up regretting them.