Not in the Cards

by Alex Westmore

  “Exactly. And we have less than forty-eight hours to find them.”

  “But how? They could be anywhere.”

  Connie looked over at Tony and they grinned. “Tony and I found out one of the reasons why they steal red Camaros.”

  Delta waited. “Why?”

  “Because that’s the name of the film they’re shooting. Remember the classic movie we saw as kids called the Red Balloon?”

  Delta nodded. “It was about that little boy who had a red balloon and the other kids...” Delta raised her hand to her mouth.

  “Right. Well, Rubin’s boss is making a movie called Red Camaro. They use the stolen cars in the movie.”

  Delta reached over and took Connie’s hand. “We’re getting closer, aren’t we?”

  Connie grinned. “I believe so.”

  “So, now what?”

  “Now, we wait to see what the guys at the lab come up with.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, it’s show time.”

  Delta fished around her drawers for the one shirt she knew Megan really liked. In a few days, Megan would be headed for Central America to put her life in order. Away from the daily grind at the book-store, away from the throng of idiot college boys hitting on her, Megan might find whatever it was she was looking for. It would be good for her.

  The day had crawled by, with more than twenty calls to and from Connie about additional information Eddie had picked up. They were zeroing in and Delta was getting high on the excitement. She owed Rubin and the thin man a few bruises.

  Bruises. Gina had come over earlier in the day to apply makeup to some of the bluer bruises Delta now wore. She didn’t want to upset Megan before she went on her trip; it would only make her worry more than usual. No, Megan deserved to go off and do her own thing without wondering whether or not Delta was being dragged out to the desert to give some asshole head before he plugged her full of lead.

  Right.

  Plucking out the turquoise polo shirt Megan had bought her, Delta held it up to her chest and smiled. They’d had so much fun the first time they went clothes shopping together. In Neiman-Marcus, Megan handed Delta this shirt and Delta, as was her custom, looked at the price tag first.

  “Eighty dollars?” she had practically yelled. “Eighty dollars for a shirt? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  The next thing she knew, she was being hustled into the changing rooms with a hand clamped over her mouth. She knew by the Opium perfume whose hand it was.

  “Would you mind not embarrassing me?” Megan said in mock anger.

  “Embarrassing you? It’s those people out there who should be embarrassed! Eighty dollars for a stupid shirt. Hmph.”

  Half an hour later, Delta walked out with $880 worth of clothes she was sure she could have gotten for less anywhere else.

  It had been a day when life wasn’t so complicated.

  After tossing the shirt over her head, Delta surveyed herself in the mirror. She, too had changed since they had met nearly two years ago. Megan had brought to her black and white world an unexpected freshness of grays and a rainbow of colors. Megan was the first really honest person Delta had ever been with, and Megan had taught her how to relax and enjoy life in front of the badge. Face it, Delta thought, Megan’s taught me a lot, period.

  The ringing phone pulled her away from her thoughts and Delta belly flopped onto the bed to answer it.

  “It’s your lucky day!” she said happily. “This is not an answering machine!”

  “Aren’t we in a good mood?” It was Connie.

  “Yes, I am. I’m finally having a well-deserved date with my lover.”

  “That’s right. Then I won’t keep you long. We’re batting 500 in the fingerprint department.”

  Delta rolled over and grabbed her pen. “Shoot.”

  “Rubin’s real name is Elliot De La Cruz, and he’s a big time hustler from Chicago.”

  “Chicago?”

  “He’s wanted for practically every major deviant law on the books. Apparently, he’s been in Mexico for the last five years and has resurfaced as the right-hand man of this Poppy fellow.”

  “Nothing on him yet?”

  “Zilch. We won’t get him until we bag at least a medium-size fish. The guy whose wallet you took is D.H. Trindell, AKA Dice or the Dice Man. So called because of the way he sliced and diced up other inmates in the slammer.”

  “Nice guy. What about the other set?”

  “Nothing so far. They’re not the greatest quality prints, so it’ll take a little time for the computer to sort through.”

  Delta jotted all this down.

  “I have some buddies on the Navajo reservation who helped me get information on the kids snatched from the Southwest reservations.”

  “And?”

  “And the little boy found at Richardson’s belongs to the Chiricahua tribe in Arizona. I told him where the child is and what happened to him, and my friend Two Fist, promised to call in all of his markers to help us locate the families of the missing kids.”

  “Damn good work, Connie.”

  “Thanks. Now enough is enough, okay? There’s nothing more to be accomplished tonight, so try to have some fun. You go out with Megan and give her your best. And yes, that’s an order.”

  Delta smiled. “I’m going, I’m going. Say ‘hi’ to Gina and send her my love.” Hanging up the phone, Delta sighed. She might have a good time, but she wouldn’t stop thinking about the men she was after—not until they were behind bars. Grabbing the receiver for the decoy cars from her nightstand, Delta put it in her pocket and headed out the door.

  Delta tugged at the laces on her high tops one more time before looking at the finished product in the mirror. Megan would approve of the “little tomboy” look Delta so perfectly achieved. Wearing the turquoise polo shirt, 501 button-down jeans, high tops, and her brown leather bomber jacket, Delta decided she much preferred that term over “the big dyke look” which Sandy, her ex, had called it. Either way, both clothes and words were a more comfortable choice. Pulling out of the driveway, she set the receiver on the seat of the truck. It never ceased to amaze her how many electronic gizmos Connie could pull out of a hat. She had connections even the CIA would envy.

  Checking the receiver wouldn’t slide off the seat, Delta sighed. She wondered if she didn’t have some sort of secret wish to get kicked out of the department. How many more times could she skirt the rules and bend the letter of the law before someone came down on her for good? Rolling her window down, she also wondered how so many cops could continue to work in a system that continually failed everyone except the criminal. Over and over again, vile human beings were allowed to roam the streets because the system was set up to protect “the innocent.” In Delta’s world, the innocent meant women and children; it meant those who did nothing more than be at the wrong place at the wrong time. The innocent didn’t mean the pusher, the pimp, or the pornographic prince. But they were the ones who knew how to beat the system at its own game. They knew that lady law was a fickle bitch, and because they knew it, because it was so obvious that the system too often supports crooks instead of victims, they are able to stoop even lower and victimize children.

  Children like Helen, who had simply gotten in the way of a lunatic bent on destroying Connie, children like the ones who were snatched every day in this country. Delta saw clearly that if children were increasingly becoming victims in this warped society, then the rules needed to change. And if no one changed them, Delta Stevens would.

  Pulling into Harry’s parking lot, Delta wasn’t at all surprised to find it crowded. Recently, Harry had mounted Patriot missile shrapnel some vet had given him and a lot of new faces showed up to look at his find.

  The thought of traveling across town to see this made Delta want to shake her head. She didn’t want to think about such sadness tonight. No, tonight, she wanted to be with Megan. She wanted to hear what Megan was feeling and really listen to her needs. Tonight, Megan would get a
hundred percent of Delta Stevens.

  Delta grabbed the receiver and stuck it in her jacket pocket before locking the truck and heading toward the bar. It was a cool night and, she was glad she hadn’t thrown her favorite jacket away when Sandy asked her to.

  Opening the door, Delta squinted through the darkness and toward the area of the bar where she and Megan usually sat. Instead of finding Megan sitting by herself, Delta was unpleasantly surprised to find Tony sitting with her, leaning far too close.

  “Damn him,” Delta growled, stepping away from the door. She knew Tony well enough to know he was probably wearing his “aren’t I handsome” face, and for a moment, Delta wanted to go over and rip that stupid smile off his face and cram it down his throat.Then Delta remembered. Tony didn’t even know that Megan was her lover. He didn’t know that she wouldn’t be the slight bit interested in him or any other man in the bar. He didn’t really know squat.

  On further inspection, Delta noticed the look of utter contempt on Megan’s face as she tried to move away from him. Like so many men Delta had met, he was completely ignorant of any messages Megan might have been sending. Because of his inability to read anything other than the lump in his pants, Tony had failed to notice the fact that Megan was not laughing, she was not smiling, she was not flirting, and she appeared utterly bored. Still, Tony was undaunted, and Delta had seen enough.

  Strolling over to the table, she held her finger to her lips when Megan caught sight of her.

  “Hey, Carducci,” Delta offered, patting him jovially on the back.

  Tony barely looked up. “Uh, hi, Delta.”

  “Fancy meeting you here on our night off. Is this your girlfriend?” Delta tried not to grin at Megan, who managed to keep a poker face. Delta would remember that if they ever played cards against each other.

  Leaning closer to Delta, Tony whispered over his shoulder, “Beat it, Delta. Your cramping my style.”

  Moving closer to him, Delta whispered back, “Don’t worry. You don’t have any.”

  Straightening up, Tony cleared his throat while giving Delta obvious facial signs that she was getting in his way. “I forgot my manners,” he said, turning his most charming smile on for Megan. “It’s rude of me not to introduce my partner. This is Delta. And Delta, this gorgeous creature is Prudence.”

  It took every ounce of energy Delta had to keep from busting a gut on that one.

  Reaching her hand out, Delta took Megan’s warmly in hers and fought back the guffaw begging to be released. “Prudence? What a lovely name.”

  Megan held Delta’s hand a moment too long and batted her eye-lashes. “Why, thank you. Delta’s an interesting name as well.”

  Delta pulled out a chat and sat across from Megan, next to Tony, and held her sapphire eyes in hers. They were both enjoying Tony’s discomfort a bit too much. “It’s the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet. My grandparents were Greek fishermen.”

  Megan leaned closer and continued gazing at Delta. Unsure of what to do, Tony put his arm around the back of Megan’s chair.

  “So, you’re Greek?” Megan purred, not taking her eyes off Delta. Delta grinned, more at Tony’s uneasiness than at Megan’s question.

  “Well, Delta, I’m sure you have things to do, so we won’t keep you,” Tony said, casting his eyes at the door.

  Taking Delta’s hand in hers, Megan squeezed it. “I think I’d like to keep her.”

  At this, Tony practically jumped out of the booth. “What the hell? Man, come on, Delta, I saw her first!”

  “Finders, keepers, Carducci? Aren’t you a little old for that?” Rising from the chair, Delta motioned for Tony to sit back down.

  Pulling Delta aside, Tony mumbled his apologies to Megan before taking Delta on. “Remember when we had that talk about you being...”

  “A lesbian?” Delta practically yelled the word.

  “Keep your voice down! Man, you’re really blowing it for me.”

  “You’re assuming you have a chance.”

  “Well, I did, until you came along!”

  Turning from Tony, Delta gave a tiny wave to Megan, who waved back. “Forget about it, Carducci, she’s way out of your league.”

  “Oh, and I suppose she’s in yours?”

  Smiling, Delta nodded. “I hope so. She’s my lover.”

  Tony opened his mouth but silent air was the only thing that came out.

  “Lover, Carducci, as in partner, mate, spouse, girlfriend. You know.”

  “You’re shitting me,” he muttered, staring at Megan as if she were a mannequin who had just sprung to life.

  Delta shook her head. “Nope.”

  Scooting across the booth so she could exit and stand, Megan joined them and held her hand out for Tony. “I’m Megan.”

  Reaching into his pocket, Tony pulled out some dollars and slammed them on the table. “You don’t...she doesn’t...oh, fuck it,” he said, jamming his fists in his pockets. “What’s a guy got to do these days to see if a broad is just a damn broad?”

  Delta clamped down on her jaw and stepped closer to him. “I’m sure you’d like to rephrase that, Carducci. We might have had a little fun at your expense, but that doesn’t mean you have to act like an asshole.”

  “Del, it’s okay,” Megan interjected.

  Delta held her hand up. “No, hon, it isn’t. He didn’t need to insult you.”

  “Insult her? Get off it, Delta, you pull a gag like that on me and expect me to play nicely?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Well forget it. You get all pissed off at me for just doing what guys do—”

  “And what’s that, Carducci? Act like big dicks with tiny little heads?”

  “Jesus! Cut the feminist crap, man. It was an honest mistake. This isn’t a gay bar, you know.”

  Suddenly, Harry called out to them. “Hey, you two, take it outside.”

  “What do you know about guys, anyway, Delta?” Stepping past the table, Tony headed for the door. “You’re always so damn busy putting us down, you wouldn’t know a decent guy if he ran over you.”

  “You’re right!” Delta yelled, starting after him. “It’s been a few years since I met one! Aren’t they on the endangered species list? I’ll let you know if I find another one in this decade.”

  Standing at the door, Tony whirled around. “Look, we can’t all be like your sainted Miles Brookman, but you’re going to miss out on a lot of good people if you keep that female superiority shit up!”

  Delta felt the blood drain from her face. “Don’t you dare talk about Miles Brookman! You’re not fit to clean his gun!”

  “Man, you’re crazy! I’m outta here.” Shoving the door open, Tony stomped out.

  “Del, please let it go. He didn’t mean any harm. Besides, we’re the ones—”

  But Delta had stopped listening. Storming through the bar, Delta brushed off any hands that tried to stop her. Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the fear, and maybe it was her horrible experience at the hands of Dice, but Delta had gone over the edge and wanted to strike out at any man who invaded her space.

  At this moment, Tony Carducci was that man.

  “Look, Carducci,” she said, as she ran to catch up to him. “I don’t have to sleep with men to know what big pricks they can be.”

  “Maybe not, but you haven’t even given me half the chance I deserve because I have one! Man, don’t you see? What you’re doing to me in the name of feminism is every bit as shitty as what straights do to you.”

  “What in the hell would you know about bias, Carducci? You’re a white man. You have all the power.”

  Tony shook his head and picked up a rock to throw at a parking sign. He missed. “Man, Delta, what do you want from me? Perfection? I’m doing the best I can here just to understand that my partner is a lesbian. I’ve never known a lesbian before. How the hell was I supposed to know she was your…your...”

  “Lover, Carducci. That beautiful woman in there is my lover. She’s not a broad, she’s not a
dame, she’s a woman. And you were treating her like she was the main entree when I walked in. Women are people, Carducci, not meals, not delicacies, but people.”

  “Right. And she’s a beautiful woman, Delta. Everyone in that place wanted a shot at her. Why should I be any different?”

  Delta took two steps away from him. Then, she stooped to pick up a rock, and threw it at the parking sign. She hit it. “You got me on that one. Why should you? Why not act like all the other assholes? She’s my lover, Carducci, and you were all over her like a cheap suit.”

  “How was I suppose to know? Instruct me, oh Training Patrol Guru, how the hell I was supposed to know she was gay? By the way she sipped her drink? By the way she sat? I’m not a fucking mind reader, Delta!”

  “No one’s asking you to be, Carducci! All I’m asking is for a little decency. Not all women enjoy being pawed, Carducci. And just because a woman is good looking doesn’t mean she wants assholes groping her.”

  Shaking his head, Tony started walking away. “You got a hot poker up your ass, and I sure as hell don’t have to stay around while you yank it out and try to shove it up mine. I’m sorry about what happened to you out in the desert, but it had nothing to do with me.” Delta started her retort, but Tony continued. “Whatever your beef is, it isn’t with me.”

  Before Tony could take another step, the receiver went off. Both Delta and Tony stopped mid-stride.

  “That’s our car!” Delta cried, grabbing the receiver from her pocket. “Tony, call it in! I’m going after them.”

  “But—”

  Delta waved him off. “There’s no time! Just go!” Sprinting in the direction of Harry’s parking lot, Delta was stopped by the sound of Megan’s voice.

  “Delta!”

  Caught between possibly busting the perps and saving her personal life, Delta turned around and waited. On one side stood Megan, their rocky relationship, and their life together. On the other, was her career, her sense of duty, and the lives of others.

  It was not an easy choice. But she made it anyway.