The Interrogation
One Week Later
Detective Ramirez was brought in for questioning as he sat in the interrogation room—the wrong side of the table at that.
Captain Rodriguez and Officer Santos sat on the other side of the table, arms crossed, looking like they meant business.
Captain Rodriguez: “Detective Ramirez, do you know why you’re here?”
Ramirez leaned back in his chair with that infuriating smirk that Santos remembered way too well.
Detective Ramirez: “I assumed it’s about the Henderson case follow-up, but judging by Officer Santos refusing to make eye contact with me, this is about something else entirely.”
Santos started blushing immediately. She had prepared for this the entire week mentally for this moment, practicing in the bathroom mirror, telling herself she was a professional law enforcement officer who would not be distracted by the memories of what that tongue did to me.
She was failing terribly.
Captain Rodriguez: “Detective, the Police Department has received a complaint about inappropriate conduct during your last visit to our precinct.”
Ramirez’s eyebrow raised.
Detective Ramirez: “A complaint? That’s interesting, considering Officer Santos seemed pretty enthusiastic about—”
Santos: “THAT’S NOT THE POINT.”
Both men turned to look at her. She cleared her throat.
Santos: “The point is, Detective, that you… you engaged in conduct unbecoming of an officer in a public stairwell of a police station.”
Detective Ramirez: “As I recall, Officer Santos, you were the one who pulled me into that stairwell.”
Santos: “You followed me!”
Detective Ramirez: “You looked back three times.”
Santos: “That’s what I post to do if someone following you!”
Captain Rodriguez: “Alright, alright. Both of you calm down. Ramirez, let me ask you something. Do they call you ‘Hurricane Tongue’ back at your precinct?”
Ramirez’s smirk widened into a full grin.
Detective Ramirez: “Among other things, yes.”
Santos: “OTHER THINGS? There are OTHER THINGS?”
Captain Rodriguez shot her a warning look.
Detective Ramirez: “Captain, with all due respect, I’m not sure what you want me to say here. Officer Santos is a grown woman who makes her own choices. Very enthusiastic choices, if memory serves correctly.”
Santos felt a slight chill come over her.
Santos: “You handcuffed me to a stairs railing!”
Detective Ramirez: “Your handcuffs. Your stairwell. And if I remember correctly, you specifically asked me not to stop.”
Santos: “I WAS UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF YOUR TONGUE.”
Captain Rodriguez: “Ramirez, this is a serious matter. You left one of my officers handcuffed and disoriented in a public stairwell.”
Detective Ramirez: “I didn’t leave her I went to the car to get the key. When I came back, you had already found her, Captain. What did you want me to do? Announce myself and make it awkward?”
Santos: “MORE AWKWARD. You mean MORE awkward.”
Detective Ramirez: “Officer Santos, I apologize if I crossed the line. That wasn’t my intention. But I need you to be honest—with the Captain and with yourself. Did you or did you not want me to—”
Santos: “YES! Okay? YES! I wanted you to! Happy now?”
The room fell silent.
Captain Rodriguez: “I’m going to step out for five minutes. When I come back, you two better have this sorted out professionally, or I’m transferring both of you to school crossing guard duty. Understood?”
Both Santos and Ramirez nodded.
Detective Ramirez: “Santos, I really am sorry. I got carried away. You just… you know…..incredible. And when you kissed me when I came up, I kind of lost my mind.”
Santos looked up at him, trying to stay angry.
Santos: “You can’t just… do what you did and then disappear, Ramirez. Do you have any idea what this week has been like for me? I’ve been walking around like a zombie. I can’t focus. I burned my toast four times. I accidentally called the Mayor ‘Hurricane’ during a phone call.”
Detective Ramirez: “You called the Mayor ‘Hurricane’?”
Santos: “It’s not funny! This is all your fault!”
Detective Ramirez: “How about this—let me make it up to you. Dinner. A real date. No handcuffs. Unless you specifically request them.”
Santos: “Ramirez, you’re dangerous.”
Detective Ramirez: “So I’ve been told. But Santos? So are you. You just don’t know it yet.”
Detective Ramirez: “One dinner. That’s all I’m asking. And if at the end of the night if you want me to leave you alone forever, I will. But if you don’t…”
He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing her ear.
Detective Ramirez: “…then maybe we can discuss what OTHER THINGS they call me.”
Santos’s knees went weak.
Santos: “This is a terrible idea.”
Detective Ramirez: “The best ones usually are.”
The door opened and Captain Rodriguez walked back in, took one look at their body language, and sighed deeply.
Captain Rodriguez: “Please tell me you two figured this out professionally.”
Santos stepped back from Ramirez, straightening her uniform.
Santos: “Yes, Captain. Detective Ramirez has agreed to maintain appropriate professional work relationship.”
Captain Rodriguez: “Good. Ramirez, you’re free to go. And Santos—”
Santos: “Yes, Captain?”
Captain Rodriguez: “This doesn’t take you away from traffic duty for the rest of the month report there in the morning.”
As Ramirez headed for the door, he paused and looked back at Santos.
Detective Ramirez: “Officer Santos? Friday night. Seven o’clock. I’ll pick you up be ready.”
Santos: “I didn’t say yes!”
Detective Ramirez: “You didn’t say no either.”
He winked and left the room. Santos stood there, torn between frustration and excitement.
Captain Rodriguez: “Shit, Santos please tell me you are not actually going to go out with him.”
Santos turned to her Captain with a devilish smile.
Santos: “Captain, have you ever tried to outrun a hurricane?”
Captain Rodriguez: “No.”
Santos: “Me neither. And I’m not about to start now.”
Rodriguez shook his head as Santos practically walked out of the interrogation room.
Captain Rodriguez (to himself): “I’m definitely putting in for early retirement.”
Down the hall, Santos pulled out her phone and stared at the screen. A text message appeared from an unknown number:
“Wear something comfortable. Hurricane season is just getting started. - Ramirez”
Santos smiled, contemplating whether she should respond to the text. Finally, she typed:
“I’ll bring my own handcuffs this time.”
She hit send.
Some storms, weren’t meant to be avoided.
Some storms were meant to be experienced at full force.
And Hurricane Tongue was definitely a Category 5.