Christa Wick

Curve Patrol

I exited the bathroom still wet from a long soak in the tub. With my terry robe wrapped tightly around me, I stalked toward the kitchen on the hunt for a giant mug of hot chocolate. A triple latte espresso would have been better, but it was nine at night and I'd had a long week working on a deadline cover illustration. I just wanted to put the finishing touches on the piece and call it a day.

Pretty pathetic for a twenty-six year old on a Saturday, but I am what I am.

My plan was obliterated the second I stepped into the living room. The red and blue flash of police lights bounced against my closed curtains as a heavy, authoritative knock landed on the front door. I hurried over, pressed my eye to the peephole and saw Noah Lodge, my brother's best friend and a city cop.

Noah at my front door was nothing new. He lived three houses down on the opposite side of the street. With my brother Mike in Afghanistan, Noah was in charge of keeping an over-protective eye on me. That didn't explain why he was on the other side of my door so late in the evening, in his city police uniform with his lights flashing in the drive.

He didn't patrol this neighborhood — the city didn't allow it. I ripped the door open, my head suddenly filled with the idea that Mike had listed Noah as his emergency contact so someone he trusted could gently break any bad news to me.

"What's wrong?" Tears were already filling my eyes. I didn't know what I'd do if I lost Mike. He was the only real family I had left.

Noah's hands came up, landed on my shoulders and gave a soft squeeze. "Nothing to panic about."

I didn't believe him. There was a slight tremor running through his voice and he gave my shoulders another squeeze that was harder than the first. "Is it Mike?"

"God, no, baby girl." He shook his head and rubbed at my arm. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you-"

"No one's hurt?" Now that I knew Mike was okay, I was even more confused. Something looked very wrong with Noah. His pupils were larger than normal and his skin was flushed, like he was in fight mode or something.

He frowned. "No one's hurt — yet."

"Then why the hell are you standing at my front door with your lights flashing in my drive?" I tightened the robe around me, suddenly envisioning every last one of my neighbors peeking from behind their curtains. Most of them I didn't know — wouldn't even recognize them in the local grocery store. Only a few people — like Noah — had grown up on the block.

His cheeks, already flushed, grew a little pinker. "Sorry, baby, give me a second."