“Yes, sir. Shall I use Stash? He doesn’t have a badge now…”
“Contact him, at least. The badge makes no difference. He ought to know someone suited to handle Carter; he’s been retired how many years now? It shouldn’t be difficult.”
“That was excellent work, Lieutenant Investigator Ashton; excellent work! You not only scoped out the perp, you set up an effective sting and took the perp into custody,” Deputy Chief of Investigations Colonel Maia Peterson told Ashton in her office. The Imperial City Police Chief, Brigadier General Harold Quan, stood beside her, looking on in approbation. “And you trained our new investigators while you were at it! Very well done, sir. Very well done.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Ashton said with a cheerful smile. “I appreciate your and General Quan’s approval. But you know I’m doing it because people deserve to be safe.”
“Of course we do, Lieutenant Investigator Ashton,” Peterson said. “And that’s all the more reason to approve.”
“Oh, it’s more than approval, Ashton,” Quan added. “You’re coming up on the end of your time in grade, and that just demonstrated to us that you’re ready. You’re now officially Captain Investigator Dominick Ashton. Congratulations.”
“Oh! Thank you, sir, ma’am!” Ashton said in pleased surprise. He took General Quan’s proffered hand and shook it, followed by Colonel Peterson’s.
“You’re more than welcome, Nick,” Peterson said with a smile, reverting to informality now that the official moment had passed. “You’ve been a great investigator for us so far, and if you keep this up, I think you’re going to wind up topping out things, one of these days, not too terribly far in the future.”
“Now, get with your team and the lot of you go out and celebrate,” Quan urged with a smile of his own.
But it turned out that none of “the guys” were available.
Except one.
“Terrific! Congratulations!” Cally Ames declared. “Sure, I’d love to go out and celebrate with everybody! Sounds like fun!”
“Nah, I gotta go home and see about laundry, or I won’t have any clean clothes to wear tomorrow. And you do not want me to show up buck naked!” Jones said with a smirk, shooting knowing glances at Smith, Weaver, and Compton. “Nor yet in already-worn clothes!”
“Um, I promised my mom last weekend that I’d come over for dinner tonight,” Compton tried. “I haven’t seen her in almost a month, and she only lives a couple blocks from me. Maybe tomorrow?”
“I’m meeting friends after work today,” Weaver declared. “We’ve got tickets to see a play. Yeah, tomorrow might work.”
Everyone looked at Smith, who winced.
“I had a glitch in my kitchen system this morning,” he explained, “and had to swing by and grab breakfast in the arcade, ‘cause nothing was working. I pinged the super in my apartment building, and he was sending a maintenance person by after work for repairs. I’m hoping none of the fresh stuff has spoiled, ‘cause I’d just done my bi-weekly grocery shopping...”
“Oh geez, man,” Jones said, as the others all groaned. “That sucks.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure what happened; I wonder if the thunderstorm last night threw a breaker or something.”
“Could be,” Ashton agreed. “I hope it’s an easy fix, Johnny.”
“Me too, Nick.”
“Anyway, why don’t you an’ Cally go on out and grab a brew or two, an’ the rest of us will try to do something later in the week?” Jones suggested, clapping Ashton on the back. “An’ congrats, pal.”
“Yeah, way to go! Congratulations!” the others chorused.
Then they cleared out, and Ashton was left standing with a happy-looking Ames, silently cursing to himself.
Nick decided to get through it by treating Cally like ‘one of the guys.’ Which, he considered, she was, after all. They headed out to the Laughing Cat Pub, going in the back door as usual. The ICPD’s favorite waiter George, spotting the two and recognizing Nick, promptly led them to the backmost back room, seated them in a corner booth, then pulled a movable wall across the opening, effectively creating a small private room just for them.
That works, I guess, Nick decided. This way, at least we stay well out of sight.
“So, what’s good here?” Cally wondered, picking up a menu and glancing over it.
“Most of it, I’ve found,” Nick said. “I usually get a stout and the bacon double cheeseburger, extra fries, extra bacon.”
“Heart attack on a plate? Sounds delish!” she laughed. “We’ll make it two.”
The food was as good as Nick’s word, George was discreet and unobtrusive, and soon they were relaxed and chatting amiably. The burgers were large and juicy and filling, the stout hearty, cool and foamy, and when they were finished, both wanted dessert, but didn’t have room.
“I got an idea,” Cally said. “Wanna split a piece of key lime pie? I love that stuff.”
“So do I,” Nick agreed. “Let’s do it.”
When they were finished, Cally insisted on paying.
“No, no, it won’t do, Nick,” she said with a grin. “This is a celebration of your promotion! I’m not letting you pay for it! That’s my treat!”
“All right, on one condition,” Nick decided.
“What?”
“You let me pay tomorrow night.”
“Why, Nick Ashton, that almost sounds like you asked me on a date.”
“…Almost.”
“Then I accept.”
He walked her home, before heading home himself.
Reprisals
Lee Carter and Maia Peterson were an established couple by this time, though they had not made things permanent as yet. In point of fact, Lee’s old-fashioned pride prevented him from formalizing their relationship – the fact that he had stagnated at the rank of captain while Maia made colonel meant that her income would always be significantly larger than his, when he wanted nothing more than to pamper and care for this woman he loved. When Maia even brought up the idea of adding him to
