Chapter Nineteen. Casey pulled up beside Leslie's car, just like always

Casey pulled up beside Leslie's car, just like always. And like always, Leslie was waiting for her. She had two water bottles this time.

"I'm tired of you stealing mine," she said lightly as she handed one to Casey.

"And here I brought you an extra bag of potato chips," Casey said with a smile.

Their eyes met for a second, and Leslie nodded. Yes, they both knew what they were doing. And it was okay. Forget about yesterday. Start over. They could do that.

Casey pulled into traffic, driving slowly down Main, heading to Deep Ellum. Hunter and Sikes were already out, cruising the apartments. And with any luck, they'd find something. Because the idea of being out every night, cruising the streets, was depressing.

"Michael have plans tonight?" she asked.

"No. Actually, he was pissed."

"Told you."

"Doesn't matter. I told you that you weren't going out alone."

"Yeah, well, we can't keep this up indefinitely. You'll be divorced before you're even married and I'll never get a date."

Leslie laughed. "Those are our choices? Divorced and celibate?"

Casey pulled onto Elm, cruising slowly through the club district. "So, how pissed was he?"

"I'm apparently bordering on neglect."

"I see. Food or sex?"

"Both. He can't seem to order takeout on his own."

"But sex on his own is not a problem, right?"

Leslie laughed. "I wouldn't know. But we had quite the argument earlier."

"I'm sorry. Again--"

"Stop. Our argument had little to do with me being out again. It was just an excuse."

"I don't understand."

"When Michael has options, like a ball game, he doesn't care about my hours. But when he has nothing, like tonight, he cares. And as I told him, if I'd been left alone last night while he went to his ballgame, he wouldn't have considered it neglect that I was home alone. But apparently, since I'm out tonight while he's home alone, it's suddenly a big deal."

"So you left without having dinner and you're making him fend for himself?" Casey guessed.

"Pretty much. But he'll just end up going to Jeff's. They'll order pizza and play games, and he'll forget all about our fight by the time I get home."

And then you can make up with sex. Casey was surprised by the jolt of jealousy she felt at the thought. Good grief. They're engaged to be married. They're living together. They have sex. Get over it. They probably had sex last night. She glanced quickly at Leslie's profile. She was staring out the window, lost in thought. Yeah, they probably had sex last night. Casey was at home, agonizing over the little indiscretion she'd had, and Leslie was with Michael. Having sex.

She didn't realize the tight grip she had on the steering wheel until Leslie touched her arm.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"You have a death grip on the wheel."

Casey made herself relax. She took one hand off the wheel and reached for her water bottle, taking a long drink.

"Casey?"

"Hmm?"

"I like you a lot, you know."

Casey stopped at a red light, chancing a glance at her. But Leslie's gaze was straight ahead, staring out the window again. The light turned green and she went on, not knowing what to say.

And for the next hour, they cruised up and down Elm, and on the side streets, looking for anyone who caught their eye. They talked some, but their conversation took on a less personal tone. Which was fine. It was less stressful that way.

At ten thirty, just when she was planning her last drive down Elm, Leslie spotted him. She grabbed Casey's arm, jerking her around to her side.

"There. That guy."

He was young, tall and thin, and the only thing out of the ordinary was the long trench coat he wore. It was at least eighty degrees out. He ducked down a side street, walking quickly, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat, head down.

Casey turned down the street, following him at a distance. The traffic was light and she felt conspicuous. "I'm going to pass him. It's too obvious we're following if we stay back."

"Okay. But go slow."

And she did, moving past him at a steady speed, then turning on her blinker a block down and taking another street. She drove out of sight, then made a U-turn, and killed her lights. They waited.

"There he is."

He walked past the intersection of Baumer and headed north on Oak. Casey let him get a block ahead, then she pulled away from the curb. "You see him?"

"Yeah. He's up ahead."

"If he stays on Oak, he'll have to cross Gaston."

"Cascades? You think he's headed there?"

"Could be."

Casey waited until the light turned on the cross street before moving into traffic. She eased between two cars, going with the flow as they passed him again. At Gaston, she turned right. "Watch him."

Leslie turned in the seat, looking out through the back. "I've got him."

Casey drove as slow as she could without causing attention. One block up Gaston, at Hall, she crossed lanes, moving to the left. "Can you still see him?"

"No. He's out of sight."

"Goddamn," she muttered. She sped through the intersection, turning left again, trying to get back to Oak. "Where the hell are we?"

"We're on Swiss. Keep going. It intersects back with Oak."

And there they saw him again as he jogged across Swiss and turned onto Cobb, going north.

"Cascades is one block up," Leslie said. "Should we call Hunter?"

"Let's wait. Hell, for all we know, he lives there. He could have just had a night on the town and is going home." She drove past Cobb, taking the next street up. She saw the waterfall and turned into the entryway for the Cascades complex, parking in the first spot they found and then killed the engine and lights. "Duck down."

They both did, sliding low in the seat. And within minutes, he came into view, crossing practically in front of them as he ducked into the shadows, moving silently among the shrubs.

"He doesn't live here," she said.

"No. But he knows his way around."

"Let's follow."

They got out, closing their doors silently. Without thinking, Casey took Leslie's arm, pulling her, urging her to go first. She followed, keeping to the shadows, following him. Leslie stopped up short and Casey did the same.

"He went between the buildings," she whispered.

Casey nodded, keeping a hand on Leslie's arm. "Let's give him a minute."

And they waited. Casey could feel the tension between them. She squeezed Leslie's arm and she turned toward her, eyebrows raised.

"Ready?"

Leslie nodded, moving again, following him. They found him easily. He was beside a shrub, staring into an apartment, his hand inside his pants.

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. "He's jacking off."

"I think that's what Peeping Tom's do."

Casey pressed against the building, pulling Leslie with her. They stood face to face, their eyes meeting. "You stay here," she said. "I'll go around the side, keep him from running."

Leslie nodded, never taking her eyes away. But when Casey turned to go, Leslie pulled her back. "Be careful."

Simple words, but damn if they didn't tug at her heart. Casey's gaze dropped to Leslie's lips and she had such an overwhelming urge to kiss her, she panicked. She backed up, nearly tripping over the shrub, only to regain her balance when Leslie grabbed her.

"You okay?"

Casey grinned. "I'm an idiot. Other than that, I'm fine." She slipped away then, going back the way they'd come and down the sidewalk, and coming up from behind him. When she had him in view, she slowed her pace, walking purposefully toward him.

"Hey, man. What's up?"

He jerked his head around and they stared at each other for a second, then he bolted, taking off toward Leslie. She pulled her weapon, pointing it directly at him.

"Don't move."

He stopped, turning, but Casey was there and she grabbed his shoulders, pushing him against the wall of the building. "No, you don't," she said. "You're not going anywhere."

"Who are you?"

"Police. And you're being very naughty." Casey stepped back, looking at him. "Christ, man, put that shit back in your pants, okay?"

"I...I didn't do nothing wrong."

"Yeah? You think it's okay to watch girls and jack off while you do it?"

"But she leaves her blinds open."

"Whatever." Casey twisted his hands behind his back. "What's your name?"

"John."

"Well, John, you're under arrest." She slipped her handcuffs around his wrists. "Let's start with indecent exposure," she said, glancing again to his unzipped pants.

"I...I didn't mean no harm, ma'am."

"Uh-huh. And what's your last name, John?"

"Doe."

"Doe? Are you kidding me? You're going to give me Doe? John Doe?"

"What do you mean? That's my name."

Casey turned him around but she felt Leslie move beside her, felt her light touch on her arm.

"John? I'm Detective Tucker. This is Detective O'Connor."

"What's your name?" he asked.

She smiled. "It's Leslie. She's Casey."

"Pretty names. Mine is John."

She nodded. "Yes. We're going to want you to go with us to the police station, John. Is that okay?"

He shrugged. "She's got me tied up. I don't know if she'll let me go."

Leslie glanced at Casey. "She'll let you go. In fact, she's going to drive us."

"Okay then. I guess I can go, Miss Leslie."

"Good." Leslie turned back to her. "Okay?"

Casey nodded. "I'll call Hunter."

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