Some days I get quite a bit done. It seems today was one of those. Here, another excerpt from Bridge of The Broken, is a portion of that produce:
Venkman waited for Larissa to clear the door before following her from the building.
“This was nice,” she said over her shoulder, catching him watching her ass. She snorted, punched him in the shoulder as he took two long strides to catch up.
As he felt no remorse for appreciating her assets, and showed none, instead asking, “How so?” suspecting he knew the answer.
“Working together. Reminds me of how we met.”
He grinned, “Yes. Yes, it does.”
“What do you think is up?”
“I think it’s all mental masturbation until your guy gets back with more details.”
She nodded, a thoughtful expression he knew well creasing her brow, “If he finds anything.”
“True. Sometimes you don’t get anywhere until it drops in your lap.”
Larissa laughed, “Again, like how we met.”
His phone started to vibrate. He took it out, glanced at it. Now why is the Lieutenant calling me? he thought as he answered.
“Venkman, your partner was involved in a shooting,” the lieutenant said without preamble.
“I know, that’s why I took the day off, Lieutenant.”
What the fuck? Venkman thought, barely holding his tongue in check.
“Oh, no, I’m not talking about the one yesterday. Sorry. There’s been a new incident. This one involving Baptiste.”
“He’s alright?” he asked, sudden concern spiking his bloodstream with chemicals.
Larissa looked at him in alarm, sensing his sudden stillness.
“Yes, he’s uninjured. I just thought you should know… And I thought to ask if Baptiste has a girlfriend or something. I tried his home, but got nothing. I seem to remember a woman at the Christmas party…”
So you can scare the shit out of Myrna too, you fucking twit? Venkman thought. Rather than lie, he said nothing.
A moment passed in silence.
The Lieutenant broke it, “So, do you know a number where his girlfriend might be reached?”
“He must not have updated his record, Lieutenant. You can’t ask him?” he asked, knowing the man couldn’t.
“Oh, no. You know how it is. No one can talk to them but their representatives and the investigators from Homicide and Internal Affairs.”
“I’ll be there in a bit, Lieutenant.”
“I know. Still.”
A sigh, “See you soon, then,” the Lieutenant answered.
Not if I see you first, Venkman thought as he ended the call.
“What’s up?” Larissa asked.
“Light on details, but the LT says Baptiste was involved in a shooting. He’s alright. I need to go to Myrna’s place and get her.”
“Shouldn’t the Lieutena-“ she began.
He shook his head, calling up the address, “He about stopped my heart delivering the news. I won’t have him doing that to her.”
She stepped close, wrapped an arm over his shoulder, “You’re a good man, Nigel Venkman.”
Venkman smiled, kissed her cheek, “Thanks. Can I drop you at home or the office?” Baptiste and Myrna hadn’t had Larissa over to their home, mostly because Myrna held a grudge against Larissa for not executing Rankless Wardlaw when she had him in her power. Venkman didn’t want to take the chance Myrna would add this incident to her list of complaints against the former Imperial.
“The office is closer,” she said, releasing him and starting toward the truck.
Joining her, Venkman felt a warmth in his chest that had everything to do with her effortless understanding.