The Christmas Cop

Tough homicide detective Jake Morgan was a bah, humbug kind of guy. Getting injured in the line of duty wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to him–no, it was being assigned as the police department’s Christmas Cop while he recovers. He wasn’t one to bring any feel-good feelings with kids. He had no idea what kids wanted for Christmas. And he sure to goodness didn’t want to be paired with a pink-hair, do-gooder who looked more like a kid herself than a software engineer.

When Shea O’Reilly is paired up with the man most likely to win the exact-opposite-of-Christmas-spirit award, she’s thrown. It’s her favorite holiday. And her best day would be to make a bunch of kids happy. How can she manage that with the disgruntled Mr. Scrooge she’ll be working with?

Christmas for children? Or a holiday miracle of love?

Shea rubbed her eyes at the same moment her watch vibrated against her wrist. She'd been staring at the computer screen for almost an hour, no wonder her eyes felt dry. Standing, she started walking around the large room, dodging desks and chair as she made a serpentine circuit. She shook out her hands as she walked, making sure her watch noted the steps.

The Mondano Police Department wasn't known for luxurious accommodations–especially in the work rooms. Lucky for her, this was the overflow office. Though there were six desks and accompanying chairs, no one else used this space. Officers were either in the field or assigned desks in the large bullpen up the hall.

This room was the last stop on the hallway before the holding cells. She'd gotten used to the occasional criminals escorted by the door on their way to the cells. Some muttered, others fought against restraint. Some yelled and others looked dejected. She hadn't seen anyone today.

Stretching, she rotated her shoulders to loosen tight muscles. Checking every line of code for a complex software program wasn't the easiest thing in the world. But she'd find the error and make it right. The reputation of their company was on the line.

When her watched signaled she'd walked enough steps to satisfy the hour, she returned to the desk. It was easier to read the actual code here than the program back at the company. It’d worked on all the demos and all the beta tests. But once actively used there was a glitch.
She hated when that happened.

They'd tested and tested over and over to make sure it was flawless. Obviously not tested enough.

Sitting down again in front of the screen, she went back to studying the code–line by line.
When she heard a thumping in the hall, she hardly noticed. Someone else on the way to lockup, she figured.

Only the sound stopped by the door.

Shea glanced up and paused as she observed the man standing there. A cop for sure. She hadn't seen him before–she'd remember.

He was tall, with dark hair worn a just a little too short for her taste. While he looked mean enough to take on the worst offender, the cane was a dead giveaway that he wasn't going after bad guys any time soon. Her gaze dropped to the left foot, encased in a walking cast.

He stared at her for a long moment.

"I'm Shea O'Riley," she said with a grin.

"What are you doing here? Should you be in this room alone? What are you doing on the computer?" He snapped out the questions.

Shea frowned. So much for a friendly introduction. She withdrew her visitor's badge from her back pocket and flashed it at him.

"Yes, I should be here. Alone suits me and it's none of your business what I'm doing on the computer."

She looked back at the screen and did her best to ignore him. Maybe the police department should give lessons in manners when dealing with non-crooks.

Slowly he walked into the room. From the corner of her eye she saw him studying the layout. Noting more than once his gaze returned to her.

Probably the pink hair.

She'd gotten a lot of notice her first day here from everyone. And not everyone liked pink hair–but she did. At least this month.

Who knew what color would appeal in a few weeks?

He crossed to a desk on the opposite side of the room, as far from her as he could get. He shrugged out of his heavy jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. Then he sat down.

Shea frowned. He wasn't staying, was he? She liked to work alone. Weren't there other desks in the main bull pen he could use? She suspected he was on the disabled list and assigned desk duty. But surely he had a desk he normally used. Unless he was a beat cop. They probably didn't have desks.

A quick glance showed he wasn't the type to welcome desk duty. He looked as if he should be chasing bad guys, maybe even in a gun fight like the marshals in the old west.

He glanced at her and Shea turned her full attention back to the program. As long as he didn't bother her, he could do whatever he wanted.

Jake Morgan carefully laid the cane on the floor. He glared at the desk, the blank computer monitor, the phone. He'd insisted on coming back to work before he was fully fit to return to active duty because of sheer boredom.

His broken ankle was healing, but too slowly for him.

It'd been four weeks. At least two or three more to go. And then physical therapy until he could pass the mandated physical to return to duty. The doctor had assured him the cast would be off by Christmas, but that was still too long.

Sitting at home with his leg up and nothing to do had about driven him crazy. At least the lieutenant let him return. Though desk duty wasn't something he wanted, he'd make do until he was fully fit again.

And cold cases weren't the worst assignment. He could have been assigned to the public policy department answering questions when people wanted more information on how the Mondano PD worked.

He glanced over at the girl, woman, whatever. She looked like a teenager. Was she playing some game on the computer? Was she related to someone in the building and just killing time?

He took in the short pink hair–cotton candy pink–and wavy around her face. Her eyes were blue. He couldn't accurately judge her height while she was sitting, but suspected she was tall.
Who was she and why was she here?

He turned on his computer, checking the drawers in the desk while he waited for it to boot up. Fully stocked. He knew this room was used by the special task force when a major crime involved more than the Mondano PD. Most of the time it sat vacant.

He didn't know if being here was better than in the main bullpen or worse. There he'd be hearing about investigations and feeling frustrated with lack of involvement. Here, he was totally isolated. He'd do his best on the cold cases, but longed to return to full time duty.

Janey Strobridge walked in, carrying a banker's box.

"Hey, Jake. Good to see you again. How's it going?" she said with a smile.

"I'm doing okay. Those the files?"

"Some of them. There are two more boxes, but I'll let you get through these first."

She put the box on the desk. "Can you manage?"

He nodded. He hated being infirmed. His body couldn't heal fast enough for him.

"Call me if you need anything," she said as she turned to leave.

She glanced at Shea, then looked back at Jake, her eyebrows raised as if questioning how he liked his roommate.

He shrugged and reached to take the lid off the box.

Drawing out the first thick file, he opened it and began to read. It was a murder case that had never been solved. The dates showed it was almost ten years old. Before he joined the force eight years ago.

He pulled out a yellow tablet and began jotting notes.

He was making no headway when, some time later, Shea O'Riley jumped up and began walking around the room.

Distracted, he watched her. He'd been right–she was tall and slender. She sure could fill out a pair of jeans, though.

"Problem?" he asked.

She shook her head, winding her way through the desks.

He watched for another minute.

"What are you doing?"

She flicked him a glance. "Getting steps."

"Huh?"

She kept walking, dodging chairs, turning on a dime and going back.

"My job is very sedentary, I need to make sure I get enough steps in a day to give me some exercise. Sitting for long periods isn't good for you. So I walk."

She looked at her watch. Nodding in satisfaction, she went back to her chair and was soon glued to the screen.

Jake leaned back in his chair. He could use some exercise, but couldn't very well do much with the cast. He'd been elated when he'd been fitted with a walking cast. At least he was more mobile than when he had the crutches. But the limitations still chafed. If he was on his feet too much, the ankle began to ache and took hours to ease.

"I'm Jake Morgan," he said as a belated introduction.

If they were going to share the space for the foreseeable future the least he could do is be polite. It wasn't her fault he didn't want to be looking at cold cases instead of investigating active ones.

She nodded in acknowledgment but didn't look away from the screen.

"It seems like whatever you are looking at is engrossing," he said, curious now to learn what she was doing.

"It's tedious and annoying but yeah, I guess it's engrossing. I'm looking for a glitch in the code for this program."
A computer geek. Who'd have figured?

Though he wondered if pink hair was the norm for those people. He knew basics of computers, but nothing beyond that.

"What program?"

She leaned back in her chair and swivelled around to look at him.

"My company designed a special program for the police to match and tabulate DNA information from various databases. Cops started keeping DNA information a long time ago, but there was no standard method to save the data or make it available to others in law enforcement around the country. This program's designed to draw it from all the different databases, compile it all and conform it to current standards and deliver readable information–to enable it to mesh with Homeland Security's database and cross reference all the other ones out there like FBI and DOJ."

"But there's a glitch?" he repeated.

She nodded. "And I've been here a week and still haven't found it. Of course there's tons of code so I could be here a lot longer. It's just so frustrating. We tested it over and over and it should have worked flawlessly."

"Sounds like an ambitious program. And one that'd help us out a lot."

She nodded. "That's the hope. I guess you got desk duty because of your foot."

"Cold cases, not that I think I'll see anything the officers who initially worked on the cases missed. But my lieutenant thought fresh eyes might spot something. If even one gets solved, I'll be satisfied. Mostly I think it's busy work."

The frustration welled up, but he pushed it away. He knew when he signed on for the job there was the possibility of being injured one day. At least he hadn't been shot.

"Good luck," she said.

"You, too."