Page 6
Jesus, I’m really out of it if I didn’t even notice someone walking in.
“How’d you get in here?” I ask Rick, who looks a little guilty and completely out of place in the kitchen.
He cocks a thumb at the back door.
“It was wide open. I wanted to make sure everything was okay in here.”
Guess I forgot to close it when I walked in. I had my hands full of bags when I got here and then got sidetracked in the kitchen.
“What were you doing in the alley?”
“Looking for something a suspect may have dropped when I was chasing him back there.”
I remember seeing the patrol cars in the street when I got here. I glance at the clock and notice it’s already coming up on eleven.
“Oh my God, I’m running late. I haven’t even started lunch prep yet.”
Ignoring Rick, I duck down and collect the utensils from the floor, returning to the deep sink to wash them again.
“Can I help?” he asks behind me.
“No. You shouldn’t even be in here, Mom would have a fit. She’s very protective of her kitchen and her recipes.”
“I’m a cop, I can keep secrets and I won’t tell if you don’t.” He bumps me out of the way and takes over washing. “I’ve got this, you go do your prep.”
I only hesitate for a second before I head for the large cooler where we stock our produce.
“Where do these go?” he asks when I dump an armful of vegetables on the freshly cleaned prep counter.
I cock a thumb at a rod mounted to the wall over the large grill that houses all spoons, spatulas, and the like. I grab a knife and go to work on the onions while he puts away the collection of utensils he just washed.
“Put me to work.”
He appears beside me with a large chef’s knife in his hand, his surprisingly blue eyes sparkling.
“You don’t have to do that,” I protest half-heartedly.
“Look, I’ve got half an hour, tops, before someone starts looking for me. Let me make myself useful.”
I drag my focus back to my onions. It’s too easy to get lost in those eyes.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“I know my way around a kitchen if that’s what you’re worried about. I may pop in here for a meal on a regular basis but that doesn’t mean I can’t cook.”
He sounds almost defensive, and I find myself curbing a grin.
“All right then, let’s see what you can do dicing those bell peppers.”
Chapter 3
Rick
* * *
“There you are!”
I lift my head to see deputy Kingma coming around the container parked at the rear of The Kerrigan, just as I step back outside.
