TrueCrimeJunkie 2 (Patreon)

Tim regretted it almost from the moment they started. He swapped Lucy out for Nolan—Nolan, of all people—riding with him. He could admit Nolan was good police, but that sunny disposition… it was one thing on Lucy, she was young and a girl and his partner. But Nolan was a grown man. You’d think he’d have figured out that the world was a cruel and unjust place by now.

But he needed advice.

“So!” Nolan said, smacking his hands together—he seemed not to know what to do with them when they were riding in a shop but he wasn’t at the wheel. “Just us guys today, huh? Just two of the fellas! Bros.”

“I’m not your bro,” Tim said firmly.

“I wasn’t saying you were, sir, just… bros in the general sense. The universal… brotherhood of…”

His good cheer bordered on smarm; it made Tim feel like he was about to hear a sales pitch for toothpaste or something. “Listen, Nolan, we’re not simpatico. I’m here to arrest people, you’re here to…”

“Serve my community,” Nolan ventured.

“Yeah.” Tim’s jaw tensed. He couldn’t help but hear that phrase as something people said right up until a crack addict was taking a dump on their front porch. “It’s fine. Doesn’t mean you’re a bad cop. Just makes us different kinds of police. And the department doesn’t just need sheepdogs. It can use…” The word ‘Pomeranian’ sprung to mind, but that wasn’t fair and not something any half-decent sergeant would say to one of his men. “Other dogs.”

“I’d say I see myself as a Beagle. Oh, and I think you’re a good cop too.”

Tim had not asked.

Nolan cracked a grin, like he’d just amused himself with something in his inner monologue. Which he would feel compelled to share—“This your roundabout way of saying you’re in the doghouse with Lucy?”—now.

Tim glanced at him. “What makes you think I have a problem with Chen?”

“Nothing!” Nolan said, as quickly as squeezing one of those stuffed toys got you a squeak. “It’s just that you two usually have a good repartee and, as you said, you and me aren’t ‘simpatico’…”

“I wanted to ask you for advice,” Tim said.

“Advice?” Nolan repeated, at least self-aware enough to know that he’d usually be the last person Tim went to for recommendations on his conduct.

“Credit where credit’s due: you’ve had a lot of luck with the ladies.”

“Me? I’m not some kind of—“

“Lucy told me about the two of you. And you had a pretty good marriage before it caved in on you, which I know can be no one’s fault at all. And then there’s Jessica, Grace, Bailey, Rosalind…”

“We’re counting Rosalind?” Nolan asked. “She’s a serial killer!”

“She’s a redhead,” Tim countered. “And of my last few relationships, one of them only happened because Lucy made a bet with me.”

“That is a bit She’s All That… sir.”

Tim would be offended by that if he knew what it was. He thought it might be an old teen movie, but surely Nolan had been too old, even by the 90s, to care about Freddie Prinze Jr. “So, man to man, I would like your read on a situation.”

***

Lucy did not know what to make of Nyla. She hadn’t known what to make of Tim either, but Tim had turned out to be… Tim. Warm, gooey, melted marshmallow heart under enough layers of cynicism to make the wreck of the Titanic look like it just had a few smudges on it.

Nyla might possibly be cynicism all the way down. At least, to Lucy. She knew the woman had her kid and her boyfriend and her pregnancy, but those were far off directions for Nyla’s empathy to be aimed. She doubted Nyla would shine that spotlight on her the way Tim did when she needed it…

Still, Lucy decided to put her best face forward. “This is nice, right? Just us girls for a change. Just the sistahs. Doing it for ourselves. Don’t need no man, don’t want no man.”

“Are we rapping right now?” Nyla asked.

“Uhh…”

“Because I don’t want to be rapping with you. I know you and Tim have your thing—we’re not going to have a thing.”

Lucy’s throat tightened. “I don’t have a thing with Tim…”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Nyla saw Lucy’s stricken expression. “You have a good working relationship. No shame in that. Crockett has Tubbs, Starsky has Hutch…”

Lucy made a relieved grin. “Well, I guess we do work well together.”

“Which makes me wonder why I got saddled with you.”

Lucy’s grin vanished. “You think he’s mad at me?”

“I’ve got a feeling Tim is the type to let you know when he’s mad.”

“I mean—yeah, sure—but if he worried it would hurt my feelings, he might bottle it up—“

Nyla glanced at the clock. She clucked her tongue. “Not even a minute to go from sisters doing it for themselves to you obsessing about your man.”

“He’s not my man.”

“In LAPD world? Every girl knows not to get between the two of you.”

“They do?”

“You think no one’s noticed how he looks? You think nobody’s noticed how you look?”

“I…” Lucy bit her cheek before replying. “We’re a police department, not a singles bar. Of course people don’t go throwing themselves at me, or him.”

“Uh-huh,” Nyla said. “Or it could be that no guy wants to be the second most important man in your life.”

***

Nolan was holding his hand to his mouth. Tim didn’t like it. It was an effeminate gesture and seemed just a little overly demonstrative for a man of Nolan’s years. Besides which, he was doing it after Tim had told him about the TrueCrimeJunkie business.

“So that’s not that bad in this day and age, right?” Tim asked. “Probably everyone’s done it—“

“It’s pretty bad,” Nolan said.

“No it’s not… is it?”

“You’re spyingon your partner.”

“Don’t be overdramatic.”

“It seems fitting when we’re talking about Lucy.”

Tim had to concede the point.

“Look, I get it,” Nolan said consolingly. “When Henry was growing up, I was insanely worried what he was getting up to online. But there’s a trust there. I couldn’t snoop on what he was doing any more than I could follow him under the bleachers to make sure he wasn’t smoking pot.”

“This is her smoking pot right in front of me, in that analogy.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Nolan asserted. “When you care about someone, you have an obligation not to do anything you think will harm them, even when it’s perfectly innocent. It’s about boundaries…”

“Yeah, yeah, if I say you’re right, can I get out of the Father of the Year lecture?”

Nolan shrank a little into his seat. “I wouldn’t call it a lecture…”

“If I didn’t know it was wrong, I wouldn’t have asked for your help. I’d be able to—“ Look her in the eye. “How do I make it up to her?”

“Well, you have to admit what you did to her—“

“I’m not doing that,” Tim said immediately.

“That’s how this works. You either want to make things right or you want to assuage your guilt. The difference is telling her.”

“I tell her, it opens up a whole new can of worms.”

“What can of worms?”

***

There was an attempted ATM robbery, but no need for fireworks. Just a dumbass who’d tried to pull an ATM out of the wall with his Volvo. Nyla and Lucy steadfastly ignored his sob story as they took him to Booking. He could repeat it all to the public defender.

“Okay, what if Tim thinks that I need space?” Lucy tried.

“Why would he think that?” Nyla replied, as she had to every attempt by Lucy to get into Tim Bradford’s head.

“I don’t know! I haven’t sent any signals…”

“Not sure you’re the best judge of what signals you’re sending.”

“What’s that mean?” Lucy insisted.

Nyla glared at her.

“Miss. Ma’am. Sir…” Lucy said apologetically.

“What I mean is that Tim’s clearly protective of you and you encourage it.”

“I don’t—I do not—you really think so?”

“Have you ever known me not to mean the thing I said out loud?”

Lucy gulped. This suddenly seemed serious. Not just a ladies’ night in the shop, but like Tim might want to distance himself from her… permanently. Why would he do that? Why would he not want her riding with him even once?

“You think maybe that’s the problem?” Lucy asked. “If there is a problem? Maybe Tim thinks that I’m too dependent on him—which is ridiculous—and he wants me to learn to be a cop on my own—which, is so presumptuous of him…”

“Who’s Tim?” the perp in the backseat asked.

Nyla rapped her fist on the screen. “Oh no, you are not jumping into the conversation now, I’ve put man-hours into this. Don’t even think you’re qualified to comment here.”

“You think that’s it,” Lucy realized. “You think he’s throwing me from the nest…”

“Stop right there. And not just because you’re making a baby bird analogy with you as the baby bird, God, it’s been one hour since sisters doing it for themselves. One hour. I was actually kinda looking forward to that.”

Lucy nodded. “Oh, me too, I really thought I could lend you a friendly shoulder about the pregnancy…”

“Chen,” Nyla interrupted. “Why do you think I know Tim or what goes on inside his close-cropped head any better than you do?”

“Because you’re… you’re a…”

“I met him after you two had already been through a terrorist plot. You’ve known him longer than I have.”

“Yeah, but you…” Lucy flailed a little. “Sit at the big kid’s table.”

“Tell me that’s not how you really think about it.”

“A little…” Lucy admitted.

“Yeah, well, this big kid has no idea what runs through that man’s head. Even less so since he’s spent a year hanging around with you.”

“It’s not like I don’t have any insight into him. It’s just he’s… sometimes he lets you know exactly where you stand with him and other times he plays his cards so close to the chest, I just wanna… slap him in the face and scream ‘Hey! What are we?’”

“Why don’t you?” Nyla asked.

“Why don’t I what?”

Nyla sighed. “I’d never condone violence, but why don’t you give him a little love tap, ask him how he really feels about you, and maybe do something with your crush outside the pages of your dream journal?”

A long, taut moment passed. Then Lucy let out an unconvincing laugh. “He is not my crush.”

***

“She has a crush on you?” Nolan demanded.

“Keep your voice down,” Tim ordered, as if they weren’t riding alone in a shop together.

It just seemed like the thing to say to a shrill John Nolan.

“How long has this been going on?” Nolan wanted to know. “We were dating when she was your boot. She never said ‘hey, honey, crazy what a studmuffin my TO is’.”

“She wouldn’t call me a—oh God, she would.”

“She would,” Nolan said accusingly.

“Would you lay off? Clearly it’s a recent development…”

The radio crackled, telling them about a home invasion, but it was well out of their range and Thorsen got it.

“Well?” Nolan prompted.

“Well what?”

“Do you—“

“No.”

“No, we’re not getting into that, or no, you’re not even slightly into her?”

“Just… no,” Tim insisted. “I shoulda gone to Wade. He may have only hooked one woman, but she still puts up with him.”

“That’s hurtful,” Nolan said. “And… and Lucy Chen? With you?”

“What about me?”

“I don’t know, you’re just… such a departure for her. I really didn’t think she was the type to go flocking to some alpha male.”

Tim sighed. “I’m not an alpha male.”

“I would’ve thought venture capitalist… maybe an actor… an actor who does his own stunts, at least.”

“She’s dating an ADA.”

“Yeah, that fits. Bet he has a really nice beard.”

“He doesn’t,” Tim snorted.

“She’s really lowering her standards. That frozen eggs thing must’ve gotten to her.”

“You being an example of her high standards? The middle-aged man working an entry-level position in a police department that’s wallpapered in lawsuits?”

Nolan cleared his throat. “I don’t see how I can talk to you if you’re going to be hurtful.”

Tim thudded his skull against the headrest. “No, what I should’ve done is suck it up and rode with Chen. At least it’d be…”

He trailed off.

Nolan clicked his teeth together before trying “Easy?”

“Yeah. Why should it bother me if she has a crush on me? That’s her problem. It’s not like I encourage it.”

“Of course not.”

“I wear the same uniform every day. It’s not tailored. It’s not even that tight.”

“I think mine gave me this ring around my waist—“

Tim pressed on over Nolan: “Am I in good shape? Sure. It’s my job to be physically fit. If anything, it’s unprofessional of her to sexualize me when I’m just trying to work.”

“I always thought Lucy looked pretty cute in her uniform. Not that I ever let it interfere with our duties.”

“Why am I even talking to you?”

“Are you talking to me?” Nolan asked.

“I shouldn’t be, you had that dumb idea about confronting Chen with that crush she has on me.”

“And you had that…” Nolan checked himself. “Idea that you can just ignore this whole thing and it’d go away.”

“Not ignore. I’m going to do something nice for her and call it even.”

“With her not knowing that you know about her crush.”

“What’s a crush, anyway?” Tim demanded. “She’s a grown woman. You find someone attractive, that’s a… thing. It’s not like she puts little Valentines into my locker.”

“She did that for me once. But it was on Valentine’s Day.”

Tim groaned. “Nyla. I could’ve talked to Nyla about all of this.”

***

“Y’see, that’s annoying. You’re a strong, confident woman, but with this guy, you puff up your big, Disney princess eyes and you wobble your lip and…”

“I do not!” Lucy said fiercely—maybe a little petulantly.

“I get it, you work well together as is, but how can you really be partners when there’s something between you?”

“Lots of people have… we’ve…” Usually, she’d think better of mouthing off to Nyla, but it was just such a complete misread of her relationship… of how she was with Tim. “Just because you have to be this hardass all the time and I have someone I can let my guard down with…”

“’Your guard’ is the Disney princess routine,” Nyla snapped at her. “You act like a simpering little girl and he’s the big daddy figure taking care of you and that’s your comfort zone.”

“So now it’s a failing of mine that I occasionally need support? I support him plenty!”

Nyla shook her head. “You say you want him to see you as an equal, but then you two would have to act like equals, which scares the hell out of you, so don’t tell me you let your guard down. If you did, you wouldn’t be talking to me about your feelings, you’d be talking to him.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the guy in the backseat: “So, is Tim, like, your guy’s—a boyfriend?”

Lucy groaned.

***

“You know what my problem is?” Tim asked, rolling the shop into its parking space.

“I’m beginning to develop several theories,” Nolan replied.

“I’m honor-bound to make it up to her, but all the ways I know how to do that… flowers, chocolates, a home-cooked meal… it’d just send the wrong message.”

“Plus that last one requires you know how to cook.”

Tim glared at the other man as they got out of the shop and went around to the back for their kit.

Nolan took a deep breath. “You really want my advice?”

“At this point, it seems like I’m stuck with it.”

“It feels like you’re the mover and shaker in this… dynamic you have. You’re setting the tone, you’re saying what happens, she’s following your lead.” Nolan hefted the go-bag. “Maybe just do something she wants to do. I know for a fact she has all kinds of interests that aren’t in your wheelhouse. Pick one and indulge her. Pamper her a bit.”

Tim picked up the shotguns. “That was almost good advice until I heard the word ‘pamper’.” He turned around and found himself confronted with Lucy the same way some people found themselves in the middle of minefields. “Nolan--!”

“Don’t worry, Sarge, I got it.” Nolan grabbed one shotgun from him and clutched the other under his arm. “Don’t mind me, I’m just moseying along, no lingering for me, plenty t’do…”

I’m gawking, Tim thought to himself, and firmly shut his mouth and forced words from his throat. “How was your shift with Harper?”

“Good,” Lucy nodded. “She’s… really opinionated.”

Tim shrugged. “You’re used to that.”

“Yeah, but we have a shorthand. Nyla and I, there’s no shorthand.”

“Shorthand’s not that important.”

“Yeah, no, it’s just… weird when it isn’t there.”

Tim nodded. Lucy nodded. They seemed to both be nodding without actually agreeing on anything.

“She thought I should be more assertive,” Lucy popped.

Tim scoffed. “You’re plenty assertive.”

“If you say so,” Lucy teased, earning her a weary grin from him. “But I was thinking that since you couldn’t work a shift with me, maybe we could go to the Bowl.”

Tim grimaced in confusion. “The Hollywood Bowl?”

“Yeah. There’s a concert there. Live music… violins… tubas… that sort of thing.”

Tim nodded along. “An orchestra.”

“Well, if you don’t want to get technical, sure.”

“I could go for that.”

“I know it’s not really your thing,” Lucy began, before shifting gears: “But you just agreed to it, so I don’t have to keep talking.”

“You can if you want to, for old time’s sake.”