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checked the television guide for movies and found an old Thin Man classic starring William Powell and Myrna Loy. I love the old flicks, prefer them to most of the regular programming, films that depended on writing and acting instead of special effects.
       I grabbed a beer and some napkins, made myself a nice little set up on the coffee table and settled in to wait for dinner. I love the old movies but love the pause feature on the new televisions.
       When I heard someone on the stairs, I used that feature to stop the movie so I could pay the delivery guy. The money was already laid out on the table.
       Opening the door, I froze.
       Money in hand, hand extended to pay, I stood there with my mouth open.
       The delivery guy was familiar.
       Very familiar.
       From the blond hair to the dark eyes.
       The borrower of the sweatshirt stood on the third step down, balancing a pizza box in one hand. In the other he was holding up a folding wallet with an ID card and a gold badge.
       “Before you scream, or kick me down the stairs,” he said, “I can explain.” Even the voice was familiar, warm and seductive.
       “You have one minute.” I kept my hand on the door in case I needed to slam it.
       “Whoa, gonna take longer than that, ma’am. Here, can you take this?”
       “Is this your official job?” I asked, taking the pizza from him. I had to let go of the door to do so. It was a large pizza. “Or did you just threaten him with your comb?”
       “No, ma’am, we got here at the same time. I volunteered to bring it up.”
       “I hope you paid him,” I said, turning to set the box on the table.
       “Yes, I did,” he said, stepping up to the open door. “I even tipped him.”
       I stepped back a few steps.
       He moved on into the entry, shutting the door behind him.
       I grabbed my phone and stepped back closer to the table, keeping some distance between us.
       “My ID,” he said, handing over the wallet.
       According to the information in my hand, this was Detective Declan Burke of the California Criminal Investigation Division. If it wasn’t real it was the best counterfeit I ever saw. Even the picture was good.
       I handed it back to him.
       “May I come in?”
       “You appear to be in, Mr. Burke.”
       “Please, call me Declan,” he said. “After all, we do know each other.”
       “Do you want to explain? My dinner is getting cold.”
       I waited, folding my arms.
       “Okay. I can do that. It’s going to take a few minutes. How about sharing your dinner?”
       “You sure are pushy,” I said.
       What the heck, he was a cop. “Come on in, grab a plate. The napkins are on the coffee table. Do you want a beer? Soda?”
       “What are you having?” He stepped over and slid two slices on to a plate, then moved into the living room and set it on the coffee table.
       I went into the kitchen, tucked a beer under my arm, picked up another plate and joined him.
       He had pulled off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “This is great,” he said, looking at the television screen. “Are you watching this?”
       “I was,” I said.
       “The Thin Man?” I love these movies! Which one is this?”
       Terrific. I pushed the record button and set the remote on the arm of the couch.
       “Hate to disappoint you,” I said. “Explanation?”
       He seriously looked disappointed. With a sigh, he sat down. “Can we eat first?”
       “I can,” I said, picking up a slice and grabbing a napkin.
       “You’re not gonna give me a break, are you?”
       “Not on purpose,” I said.
       He actually grinned at me. “Okay, tough girl. I’m part of a state wide drug enforcement task force. I’ve been undercover for over a year.” He paused to take a swallow of beer. “Those guys at the beach were bad guys. I was running from them, obviously. If they had caught me it would have blown the whole