Page 45 of Tough Justice

“So, Doc Tori,” Evan said. “Outstanding foosball skills. Did they teach you that in medical school?”

“Hardly. I never went out much during med school. There was never any time.” She took a sip, enjoying the relaxing effect of the alcohol.

“Where’s Deck?” Brett looked around, not seeing him.

“He stepped outside to take a call.”

Brett shook his head. “Leave it to Deck to abandon his date alone in a bar.”

She nearly choked on her wine. “I’m not his date.”

“Oh, really,” Evan said in a disbelieving tone.

“Really.” She plunked her glass down too hard. Some of the wine sloshed over the side, and she busied her nervous hands mopping it up with a napkin. One kiss didn’t automatically make her his date. “We went to the rehab center today. It was probably more convenient to bring me with him rather than go out of his way to drop me at home first.”

Brett scratched the burn on his arm. “Come to think of it, he’s never brought a date here before.”

“You know”—Evan turned slowly to face Brett, his mouth sporting the beginnings of a grin that made him achingly handsome—“you’re right. He hasn’t.”

“I am not his date,” she insisted again. “We have a professional relationship, that’s all.” Albeit, one involving super-hot kissing. A change of subject would do nicely here. “Forgive me if I’m overstepping.” She pointed at Brett’s forearm. “Have you tried aloe on that burn? It might ease the itching and facilitate healing. If you like, I can give you an aloe vera plant. You break off a leaf then squeeze the oil directly onto the burn, massaging it in. I think it’s more effective than the processed gel version pharmacies sell.”

Brett stared at her, and for a moment, she worried she really had overstepped. His forehead creased. Blue eyes turned hard as ice then clouded, as if something deep and dark were brooding inside his head. Or he was angry at her for bringing up a painful memory. However he’d gotten burned, it must have been painful.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, grabbing a curly fry and popping it into her mouth, chewing. “It’s a doctor thing. I see someone in pain, and I want to help.”

Evan watched them silently, his expression revealing nothing.

Brett looked at her a moment longer. “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that aloe plant.”

They all turned as Deck stepped back inside the bar. His expression was dark. As if a silent message had been relayed, Brett and Evan set their beers on the table and joined him by the door.

…

“Let’s talk outside.” Deck pushed open the door, and they stepped into the parking lot behind Mick’s. He searched the lot to verify no one was within earshot. “Just got off the phone with Rivera. The stash we just grabbed…it was dirty cocaine. Not a speck of gray death or any other opioid.”

Evan grunted. “You’re the drug expert, but I’ve always heard that dealers are possessive about their turf.”

Deck nodded. “That’s true. They’re like the mafia that way. And there’s more. In the last twenty-four hours, there’ve been twelve more ODs brought in. All of them concentrated in hospitals north of Denver.” Up north. Again.

Brett’s phone buzzed, and he looked at it.

“Need to get that?” Deck asked.

“Nah.” He clipped the phone back on his belt. “It’s an FYI. There’s another fire in the Springs. They’re getting closer to the Air Force Academy. It’s drier than a desert down there and with no rain in sight.”

“How many does that make in the last few months?” Evan asked.

“In the Springs,” Brett said, “four. All suspicious.”

“You think it’s the same arsonist?” Deck asked.

“I don’t know, but Karen’s about to dump my ass. Running off to the Springs and working all that overtime is pissing her off. Speaking of dating,” Brett added, “what’s up with you and the doc? You guys dating?”

“No,” he snapped then muttered, “Shit.” The three of them had been through a lot together. Being a dick to his friends was, well, being a dick. He didn’t want to admit it, but kidding himself was stupid. He was beginning to have real feelings for Tori. “I just…like her.” He more than liked her. Christ.

“We get it,” Evan said. “She’s a doctor. After what you and your family went through, trusting one doesn’t come easily.”

“Yeah.” But working with Tori was changing his perspective. The doctor who’d cavalierly prescribed opioids to his sister was bad enough. What really kickstarted Deck’s mistrust of the medical profession was that after Marianne died, every single doctor who treated her had rallied and covered for each other. Tori wasn’t like that. He was beginning to trust her, and she’d already proven she was an asset to the SOTF.