"Excuse me," Frank said, and Bobby murmured, "Uh-oh."
The three men were talking on the sidewalk and Frank called Hunt's name. Dimmler swore under his breath. Muhoz said, "Lieutenant, I'm —"
She held up a hand. Hunt was a good head taller than Frank, bigger and meaner. Under his chin, close in to break his swing if he wanted one, she said, "I can't tell if you're stupid, psychotic or both. Even a dumb cowpoke like you has got to know you just bought a CUBO, maybe a suspension. If you've got a union rep, you better call him."
Thumbs hooked in his jeans, he laughed, "Thanks for the tip."
"I'm glad you think this is funny," Frank smiled, " 'Cause it's going to get a whole lot funnier."
"Whatever you say," he mocked.
"Take him home," she ordered, not leaving his face. Dimmler hustled him away, but Hunt wouldn't break his derisive stare. And Frank wouldn't let him. Even after his buddies got him into the back of their car he kept his eyes on her. Craning his neck, he flicked his tongue from the rear window. Frank watched the car drive around the corner, stood there after it was out of sight.
When she reclaimed her chair at the table, Johnnie speculated, "I wonder how Hunt's new asshole feels."
"You should know," his partner jabbed back, and the boys started one-upping each other over who'd gotten the worst reaming by Frank. Gail's drink was empty and Frank asked, "Can I get you a refill?"
Gail shook her bob and Frank finished her soda. She was tired of cops and men, their noise and banter. Glancing at the doc, Clay's advice came to her.
"Hey. You like Italian food?"
Frank had to lean close to ask, and she picked up Gail's peachy shampoo again. "Doesn't everybody?"
"Want to get out of here?"
"I'm right behind you."
The doc drove behind Frank to her favorite restaurant, and as they settled heavy linen napkins in their laps, Frank told Gail she was great with Hunt.
"God, what a creep."
"You should lodge an official complaint. The guy's got some serious problems. I'm going to take care of it from my end but the more stuff that goes in his file the better."
"You're damn right I will. What an asshole. Or am I just an asshole magnet? First his beefcake friend, then that other guy? Maybe it's my pheromones."
Frank tried to suppress a smile, but Gail insisted, "No really. Christ, I get so tired of all these gorillas running around thumping their chests. And if one more man ever says to me at work, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this, I'm going to lay him out on the table! I swear I am."
Frank let her rave, then Gail said, "You must get that a lot too, huh?"
"Not really."
Gail looked puzzled, then laughed. Frank was handsome, especially when she was relaxed. Wheat-blonde hair usually held back by a pair of ray-Bans or a ponytail fell straight to her shoulders. Her eyes were deep and dark, like international waters. She had strong features and a long, fit body. Frank could have been a knockout, but her bearing clearly discouraged male attention.
"I'm sorry. I have to put up with apes like that all week, and the last thing I want to do is deal with them on my own time."
"I understand. Believe me."
The waiter glided to the table. Greeting Frank by name, he asked if she'd like to start with a carafe of wine.
"Not tonight, but the lady might like something."
Gail declined and the waiter recited the specials. After he left, the doc smiled coyly.
"I like the way you said, 'the lady' like there was only one of us here."
"I don't consider myself a lady."
"Why not?"
"Ladies are . . . hmm. How best to put this without being offensive."
"I was going to say, you're on some pretty thin ice."
"Ladies are beautiful and gracious," she said carefully.
"Neither of which you are?"
"I don't see myself as beautiful, nor gracious."
"Really?"
"No. I mean, I'm not ugly, but I'm not winning any beauty contests either."
"Well, I think you're very good-looking. And gracious to boot."
"Well, thank you. Now can we change the subject?"
Gail laughed and picked up her menu. Noting the red bumps on her hands, Frank said, "I see you you're still wearing latex."
"I'm always running out of the vinyl gloves and then I forget to order them."
"You can get them at a drugstore, can't you?"
"Yes, but I forget to do that too. I'm not horribly organized."
"I know. I've seen your office," Frank teased.
"I remember that day you came barging in when you were Working on the Delamore case."
Frank winced slightly, but Gail didn't notice.
"I thought you were the rudest person I'd ever met."
"See?" Frank said. "Not gracious at all."
"You weren't that day. So RHD ended up breaking that case. Did you help them with it?"
"Hey. I'm sure we can find better things to talk about. The oso bucco's to die for."
Gail's mouth dropped open.
"You eat veal?
"Sure. Why?"
"Do you know how they raise veal calves?"
"In tiny little cages with no exercise or food, only milk to keep them tender."
"And you can still order it knowing that?"
"If I don't order it will they stop making it?"
"No, but how can you participate in such cruelty?"
"Guess I shouldn't order the lamb, either," Frank joked, but Gail's outraged expression didn't change.
"I know you're not a vegetarian. I saw you slam that roast beef the other night."
"No, I'm not. But at least cows and pigs and chickens have some sort of a normal life."
Frank conciliated, "Would you be happy if I got pasta?"
"You can get whatever you want. It's your conscience, not mine."
Don returned, asking if they'd decided.
"Certainly not the oso bucco," Frank mumbled.
"I should certainly hope not," Gail shot back. Without even opening the menu, Frank said, "I'll have the butternut ravioli, Caesar salad, and a glass of the Baileyanna chard with dinner."
Gail smiled into the menu, saying, "And I'll have the veal Marsala —"
"—hey!"
"Just kidding," she laughed, ordering the eggplant Parmigiana. Don whisked the menus away and Gail smoothed the perfectly flat tablecloth.
"So. Does this count as our second date?"
The question startled Frank enough that she chuckled out loud.
"I'm not sure. Do you want it to be?"
"I'm not sure, either," Gail offered. "I figured that's why I'd better check."
"Then how 'bout we just say it's dinner and call it good?"
Gail grinned, "That'll work."
Dinner was excellent, and as they shared a creme Brule, Gail mentioned that one of her doctors was execrable. Frank smiled.
"You know what I like about you, doc?"
"Tell me."
"You use big words like didactic and execrable."
"I've got to put eight years of college to use somehow"
Watching Gail swipe her spoon at the last of the Brule, Frank asked, "Are we done here?"
"Oh God, I am so full I can barely breathe. That was exquisite."
They both reached for the tab but Gail snatched it.
"This one's mine."
"I won't argue," Frank said.
"Smart," Gail said, pulling out a credit card. "I like that in a woman."
Frank walked Gail to her car, making sure she got in safely. The doc teased Frank about being gallant.
"Wouldn't look good if I let the County Coroner get assaulted."
"Are you always on duty?"
"Gets to be a habit after a while. You pick up a sixth sense for stuff you couldn't filter out even if you wanted to."