Sight Lines by Michelle DiCeglio

Author:Michelle DiCeglio [DiCeglio, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, Thriller, Crime, Suspense, lesbian, Detective
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

By the time I sat down at my desk, Bishop—and everyone else at the station—had heard that I was involved in an arrest of more than forty-five grams of heroin, with a street value of roughly five thousand dollars. It would be difficult for a superior not to acknowledge that kind of bust, despite any lingering hostilities.

Almost immediately, Bishop called me into his office. We hadn’t spoken since he told me to stay away from the Villa—for reasons I’m still uncertain about—so I wasn’t sure if he wanted to congratulate me or reprimand me.

It turned out to be a little of both, along with a reassurance that our dinner with Ali was still on for tonight. Part of me had hoped he would change his mind.

Ali met me at my place around 8:00PM and we headed toward Bishop’s. After polite hellos on his front porch, Bishop led us into the dining room. Ali and I sat on opposite sides from one another, and Bishop sat at the head of the table. The once-white lace tablecloth looked dingy and out of place underneath the crisp white dishes Bishop had set out.

To say there was an awkward silence across the table would be an understatement. If it wasn’t for the din of forks and knives across the plates, we would have been in complete silence—until Bishop decided to break the ice.

“So, Mills tells me you teach computers,” he said, his voice booming in the silent room.

“Mills?” She looked at me and smiled. “I manage a team of graphic designers,” she said. And then more silence.

“What else do you do?” Bishop asked.

“I paint,” Ali said, then looked at me for assistance. But I had none to give.

“I was never a painter,” Bishop said. “The house, sure, when it needed a fresh coat. But trees and people were never my forte.” He reached for another piece of bread from the basket on the table. “What do you paint?”

“Abstract and nature mostly,” Ali replied. “What about you? Any hobbies?”

“Not like I used to.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “I had an RV that I would take on camping trips with my wife and kids,” he said as he opened another bottle of wine. Hopefully that would help the conversation.

“Do you get to go camping much these days?” she asked.

“Not really.” He sighed. “My job keeps me pretty busy. And after the girls went off to college, they didn’t have time for their dear old dad.” Bishop forced a smile. “I assume Mills told you about my youngest daughter?”

“She did,” Ali said and looked at me. “I’m very sorry that happened. I hope they catch whoever’s responsible.”

“Me too,” he said and took a drink from his glass. “So tell me more about yourself— other than the computers,” he said, trying to change the subject.

“There isn’t much to tell,” she answered as she raised her empty wineglass. I watched as Bishop filled her glass half full, and I accepted a refill myself when he turned the bottle toward me.

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