Page 51 of Daybreak

“Yes, the heart attack couldn’t have been prevented, but if the kid had been paying attention to driving, he’d still be alive. It’s been hard on the whole Crossroads community.”

“Is Holly still at the ranch?” Asher asked.

“No. She’s on her way back to Dallas as we speak. And I need this shit over with so we can get on with our lives,” Gunner said.

Asher felt like he was failing him. “Since this has all gone to the Feds, I don’t have access to much of anything now. If we discover anything else, it will be because of Nora. I’ll be in touch. Please don’t get yourself killed, kid.”

“Don’t plan on it. I have a woman to love, and a buttload of money to cushion the blow of early retirement,” Gunner said, and he could hear Asher chuckling as he disconnected.

He sat gathering his thoughts for a few moments, glanced at the time, and as he did, noticed the date. Birthdays were synonymous with his mother’s suicide, and he’d never been able to work up an interest in that celebration since.

“Well, hell. It’s my birthday. Maybe I’ll just pick up a cake to use as an excuse for a visit. Might even be inclined to strike a few matches and see what sparks,” he muttered, then made a quick call to the bakery at his local deli, told them what he wanted, and was soon on his way to pick it up. He was armed up with everything but the bulletproof vest as he settled his hat on his head and headed for the garage. It was time to take a ride down to the precinct.

* * *

Lieutenant Andy Samuels was having lunch at his desk, as were the detectives still in the office. They were all kicked back, eating and chiding each other back and forth across the room when the door opened.

Gunner Kingston came striding in carrying a sack and a large, rectangular box that looked suspiciously like something from a bakery. The room went to an immediate uproar, with everyone asking questions and welcoming him back, all at the same time.

He put the box down on his desk, removed the lid, took paper plates and plastic cutlery out of the sack, and stepped aside.

“Yes, I’m here. No, I’m not coming back on duty yet. Today is my birthday; help yourself.”

Samuels came out of his office in the middle of the noise, saw who’d caused it, and came toward him with a big grin on his face. “Good to have you back, Gunner.”

“I’m not back. I’m just here celebrating my birthday.”

Samuels looked down at the cake and burst into laughter. “Are you kidding me?”

Everybody crowded around to see the cake, expecting to see a Happy Birthday greeting on it. But all it said was BULLETPROOF in big red letters.

“Enjoy,” Gunner said, then gave Frankie Adams, their lone female detective, the side-eye as she sauntered up beside him.

“You should have the first piece!” she said.

“So, today your hair is green?” he said.

“Little sister’s latest lesson at beauty school. The better to notice me,” she fired back, and then saw the writing on the cake.

She frowned. “What? Is this like a money-back guarantee that comes with a product you’re buying?”

“More like a statement of fact that I’m not for sale,” he said.

His emphasis on the word did not go unnoticed.

Frankie wasn’t fazed. “Then let them eat cake!” she cried. “I want the piece with a B on it. B for bitch has to be mine,” she said, then she laughed at her own joke, took her cake and a little plastic fork, and winked at Gunner as she walked away.

“Do you want to talk?” Samuels asked.

Gunner shrugged. “I don’t think so. Enjoy the cake.” He turned to walk out.

“Cliff will be sorry he missed you,” Samuels said.

“Then save him a piece of cake,” Gunner said.

“So, you don’t know when you’re coming back?” Samuels asked.

“Did you talk to Internal Affairs about my concerns?” Gunner asked.