by Jack Davis
My EA has that information. I’ll have her send it as soon as we’re done.”
Kruzerski thanked the lawyer, then realized he had forgotten something. “I know I didn’t say anything up front, but I’m sorry about your clients.”
“Thank you. Like I said, we’ll do everything we can to help you catch the bastards responsible for this. I’ll have Mr. Fugate call you as soon as possible.”
With that both sides hung up, with significantly different opinions of how the call had gone.
53 | A Jog in the Park
Brooklyn, New York, 10/15/09, 1730 hours
Shortly after Kruzerski played Who’s on First? with the Blairs’ attorney, Morley received a strange request from Kensington: “Wanna go for a run?”
The two hadn’t run together since The Detail, so Morley knew the invitation wasn’t workout related.
As he followed his friend out of the building the fading October sun forced him to squint. He slid his Oakley running glasses into position.
The weather was crisp and clear. The mid-sixties temperature with wispy clouds and sunshine, was perfect. Morley loved New York even more on days like this. He never wanted to work or live anywhere else.
He breathed deeply. “Where to?”
“Let’s go down and run along the water.”
“Lead on.”
Morley decided to let Kensington take the lead on two fronts. The run—direction, pace, and distance—and the topic of conversation. He knew his former PPD Shift Leader wanted something more than a workout partner.
He’d made a mild assumption that the focus of the afternoon run was to readdress his refusal to consider bidding on positions out of New York. He appreciated his friend’s concern for his career and knew she meant well. He braced himself for what he knew would be her precisely reasoned argument.
“I appreciate you coming for a run,” said Mak as the two stretched just short of the running path. “And since you always workout in the morning, I figured I wouldn’t slow you down too much if it was your-second workout,”
“Any day I can get two workouts in is a bonus,” said Morley.
“A gentleman would have said ‘you wouldn’t slow me down.’”
Morley just laughed and started jogging.
The first mile and a half was filled with discussion of the case. It was just short of the two-mile mark Mak changed the topic.
“You know…the monthly meeting…I have…with all…the female agents…at my apartment?”
Morley noticed that Kensington’s tone had shifted from chitchat to business. “Yeah…the monthly…I hate men…meeting…. My side…of the fence…speculates…you have…classes in…how to…make voodoo dolls…and…ride brooms…sidesaddle.”
“You would….” Her pause was longer than normal. “We don’t…dislike…all men…just the jerks…. Some men…are useful…. Lifting heavy objects…opening difficult…bottles of wine…that kinda stuff…. Some…we are…actually quite…fond of…”
Morley saw Kensington turn her head to look at him. He unwittingly picked up the pace.
“I had a…get together…last night…. At the end…after we…decided who…would get…promoted next….”
This time Morley looked at Kensington.
She flashed a devilish smile. “Some of…the younger…agents…were talking…about guys…in the…office. The new agent…Mae Lau…brought your…name up…. I hate to…tell you…your ego doesn’t…need any help…but you got…a lot of…attention…. A few…wanted to know…if you…were married…or seeing…someone.” Then in a playful tone. “You know…how girls are?”
When the expected acknowledgment didn’t come, she continued. “After a…few comments…that I…won’t repeat…Pencala said…she wasn’t sure…but you might…be gay.”
“She would…” Morley let the thought trail off.
“She made…a compelling case…. You stay…in great shape… You dress…better than most women…you live at home…with your mother and brother….”
Again, Morley heard the deliberate pause. He decided not to provide any ammunition.
“I may…have gone…a little…too far…in defending…your honor.”
That could cause problems. Morley involuntarily closed one eye in a wince. “Hey, we’re out about two, you wanna turn back.”
“Yeah,” said Kensington as the two turned. “Without getting…into details…I assured them…you…weren’t gay…. You’re just committed…to being there…for Sean…. I was trying to do…the right thing…and help you out…in the process….And…I didn’t want…any of them to…get their hopes up.”
“Thanks.”
The two ran in silence for a while before Kensington seemed to switch topics, “You remember…how when…we were…on The Detail…and scanning crowds…how we…looked for…people…who had…inappropriate expressions?”
Morley knew Kensington meant watching the faces of the people in the crowd for the ones who looked out of place. The sullen-looking individual in a sea of adoring, cheering, supporters. The scowling face surrounded by the throng of wildly clapping true believers. Morley knew what she meant, if not where she was headed, “Yeah.”
“As I was talking…last night…I noticed…someone wasn’t…reacting correctly…She didn’t seem surprised…when I mentioned…your situation…” Kensington stopped.
“PJ, you have to break it off with Pencala.”
“Breaking Up Is Hard To Do.” (10/15/09, 2011 hours)
As Morley reached the third-floor landing, strains of Bonnie Raitt met him from under Kay’s door. On the heels of his jogging conversation with Kensington, he was sure that hearing the sulky nineties rocker wasn’t a good sign. Pencala came to the door wearing jeans and a Boston Red Sox T-shirt she knew Morley hated. The half empty glass of wine made it a trifecta—he was in trouble.
“Once in every girl’s life she should treat herself to a PJ Morley,” said Pencala in a harsh mocking tone.
The words made Morley wince, but before he could say anything, he was forced to duck as a CD case sped past his head.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Kensington?” Pencala demanded.
“I…. I don’t know. Those things are personal. I just don’t talk about that kinda stuff. I haven’t told anyone.” Morley’s voice indicated his discomfort with the topic as he moved farther into the tiny apartment.
“Not with the general population, but telling the woman you’re currently sleeping with that you slept with another woman in the office might be nice.” She drained the glass and set it down.
Morley hesitated. “It didn’t seem right…or fair.”
“You’re worried about hurting her feelings? What about me?”
Morley raised an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”
“What about my feelings?”
“How are your feelings hurt by me not mentioning a relationship I ended three years before I even met you?”
The logic of his answer slowed his adversary but didn’t stop her. Kay was angry and tipsy, a bad combination. She placed both hands on his chest and shoved. “Are there any other agents in the office you’ve…” she hesitated, “…no, I’ll make it easier for you. Are there any agents in the office you haven’t slept with?” She shoved him again.
Morley looked sideways as if in thought and inhaled deeply. “Well, most of the guys.” His eyes twinkled and his broad grin brought out the dimples in both cheeks.
Pencala couldn’t help but smile. “Ass.” Then in an almost cautious tone, “Is there anyone else?”
Morley moved toward his lover and looked hard into her sparkling eyes. “Including you, I’ve been with three women in my life. No one since Marilyn, and no other agents.”
“Three? That’s it?”
Morley nodded.
“That’s almost worse.” She looked perplexed.
Morley closed his eyes and shook his head. “A minute ago I was being castigated for not telling you about a previous lover, now it’s bad that
there aren’t more?”
“Three means she was special, you really cared about her.”
“Yes, I did.”
“How did it end?”
Morley didn’t answer immediately. He looked down after Pencala’s beautiful eyes widened.
“You told her what you told me, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” her voice rose. She pushed him away.
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
Pencala spun as she reached the middle of the small space that she called a living room. “It’s like a script for you, isn’t it? I can’t commit. It’s best for you.” Her eyes flashed again. She shoved him harder.
“It’s not like that.”
“No? What’s it like? Did you tell her the exact same things you’ve told me over the past month?”
“Yes” admitted Morley, “but it doesn’t make it any less true.”
“I can’t believe you.” Pencala drove a fist into Morley’s midsection. He didn’t flinch, adding to her anger. She dropped into one of the two pieces of furniture in the room, an old one-armed oak rocker.
“It…it, isn’t like I planned this, it just happened, it was a mist—”
Pencala was out of the chair in an instant. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare!” Her voice rose to a crescendo. Her emotions burst forth and she started to cry. “Don’t you dare try and tell me what we have is a mistake. It may be a mistake for you, but I refuse to believe what I feel is a mistake. So, DON’T ever say that to me.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I love you, more than you know. But that’s not enough.”
“Why? Why isn’t that enough?” demanded Pencala.
“It’s not enough,” was all he would say.
“Arrrgh.” Pencala pounded on Morley’s chest with clenched fists. “That’s it? That’s it?” She repeated his excuse in a mocking tone, “I love you but it’s not enough. You ass.” She pounded on his chest again.
“Would you stop hitting me?”
Pencala paused. “Are you gonna give me a real reason?”
“You mean besides the unethical and borderline criminal aspect of sleeping with someone I supervise?”
“I’ll transfer to another squad. I’ll transfer to one of the RAs or Newark. I’ll quit if I have to. I’ve told you that. I want the real reason!”
Morley knew he owed his lover the truth. His voice softened. “I have other obligations. I have to be there for Sean. He needs me.” He paused and spoke in a dejected tone, “You’re mad at me for not spending time with you, and between work and us, I’m hardly there for him. As it is now, I’m failing at both ends.”
“And heaven forbid Mr. Perfect fails at anything. Welcome to the world the rest of us live in.” She shoved him again. “Things are messy.” She shoved again. “They don’t always work out exactly like you want.”
“Stop pushing me.”
“No.” Pencala tried to shove him. This time he didn’t move. She stepped back to get more momentum. As she moved forward, he slipped to the side.
“I’m leaving.” He turned toward the door.
“No. I want an answer.” Pencala moved between Morley and the door. She tried a roundhouse right to his shoulder, but his reactions and her blood-alcohol level made it futile. “If you were a real man you’d stand still and let me hit you.”
Morley put both hands on her shoulders. “I told you, I need to be there for Sean.” He thought he saw something in Pencala’s face. Like she’d been thinking something and didn’t know if she should say it.
“Why do you treat Sean like that?”
She’d stepped over the line. “Leave Sean out of this.” Morley’s voice had a firmness that had been absent previously.
“He loves you more than anything in the world.”
“This isn’t about that.”
“Yes it is. You want to be with me, but you feel guilty not being there for him.”
“Kay, I mean it, leave Sean out of this.”
“Maybe he loves you enough to want you to be happy.”
Morley’s grip on his lover’s arms tightened. “Kay, stop.”
“Maybe he’s not as selfish as you are, or you think he is? Did you ever think of that?”
Pencala suddenly saw something in PJ’s eyes she’d never seen before. It looked like a mixture of frustration tinged with anger. He glanced behind her as if searching for something. Then he moved to the rocking chair and knelt. He set his left hand on the seat and with a powerful upward strike with his right palm detached the armrest. It came off in his hand and he slammed it to the floor.
“What are you doing?”
There was no answer as he stood and moved toward her. His eyes had turned slate grey and lost their luster. She backed away.
“PJ, you’re scaring me.”
In an instant he was on her, both hands up to her throat. In one effortless move he twisted the fabric of her T-shirt and tore it down the front. Before she knew what was happening, he kissed her. She kissed him back. She was lost. In the next second her bra fell away, and she could feel his strong hands moving down her abdomen. He undid her jeans before she regained enough control to put her hands on his. “Stop.”
He kissed her and moved her hands behind her back and leaned into her. Her arms were pinned against the wall by her own body.
He continued to undress her with an ease that amazed and excited her. He continued to kiss her and she him.
In seconds they were both undressed. He guided her arms around his neck and slid his hands under her muscular thighs. He gently lifted her off the floor. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him.
He turned and carried her to the now armless rocking chair and sat, easing her onto his lap. She involuntarily let out three quick sighs, each one slightly higher in pitch than the last, before she exhaled completely.
She tried to repeat the movement. He didn’t allow it. His hands on her hips kept her pinned. Instead he eased back in the chair and started to rock. It was heaven. She closed her eyes and dropped her head to his shoulder. He kissed her neck and continued the steady pace of the rocking. She moaned uncontrollably.
He picked up the pace. Both breathed heavily and soon started to sweat.
That’s when she heard it. “What do you want from me?”
It took a second for her to come back to earth and for the words to register. She glared at him and through clenched teeth said, “Nothing.”
He held her hips firm and they swayed faster and harder.
“What do you want from me?” he asked again.
“Nothing!”
The pace accelerated as did the sensation.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”
“Hey, you wanna stop biting me.”
Pencala, panting, unclenched her teeth. “Sorry.” Then after looking at the area, “That’s gonna leave a bruise. You might wanna keep a shirt on for a while.”
Morley glanced at the teeth marks appearing on his shoulder. “Nice.”
“You deserve it for what you did to my chair.”
“Yeaaaahhh, sorry ’bout that. I think I can repair it with some wood glue.”
“That’s okay. I like it better this way.”
Ten minutes later and partially clothed, Pencala sat Indian style on the floor. Morley was behind her on the newly renovated rocker. Brush in hand, he stroked her thick auburn locks in long steady strokes.
Early in their relationship she’d admitted that having her hair brushed was only slightly behind sex on her list of pleasurable sensations. Since that day, Morley had brushed Pencala’s hair every night they were together.
The two were silent for a long while until Pencala broke the spell. “I want you to wake up in the morning thinking of me. I want you to wonder how far into the day it will be before you get to see me. I want you to have butterflies in your stomach when you hear my voice from another room. I want you to feel disappointed when you know you won’t see me for the rest of the day. I want you to wonder what I’m d
oing and if I’m thinking of you.”
She rested her head on his thigh. Morley could feel her tears cascading down his leg.
“I want you to love me half as much as I love you, that’s what I want.”
That’s the problem, I do.
Part Eleven
54 | Suspect Identified and Located
NYFO, 10/16-17/09, 1400 hours
That Friday Morley missed the one constant in his life since adolescence: his morning workout. He lay in bed and turned off the alarm. He couldn’t get up and face the day, or more accurately, Pencala.
Even after the fireworks of the night before, nothing had been resolved. He was still madly in love, the strains of the U2 song “With or Without You” blistered his consciousness. He truly couldn’t live with or without her. He could resolve to break off the relationship, but then, in her presence, when he looked in those brilliant cobalt eyes, he was lost. His love was a force beyond his control. All other aspects of his life were regimented, orderly, and neat. Morley’s feelings for Pencala destroyed it all with a simple pout. He was a complete and utter failure at one of the most important aspects of his life.
Morley stared at the stucco ceiling of his room until he heard Sean’s alarm. As always, his responsibility roused him.
Throughout breakfast, as he sat across from a thoroughly delighted Sean, and confused Mom-mom, Morley struggled to push Pencala’s argument from his mind. He knew it would be too easy to convince himself that Sean would want him to be happy and be with Kay.
It’s not that simple.
With Sean off to school, Morley forced himself to his car and into traffic. The ninety-minute commute was a welcome delay to a day he dreaded. He fielded calls from three of his four Group Leaders and Kensington, all wondering if he was okay; no call from Brown.
By the time he’d reached the Holland Tunnel, Morley knew what he had to do. Once at the office he went to find Pencala. She wasn’t in her office, and he decided to leave a note asking her to stop by his office when she returned. Halfway through, he was assailed by a flustered Brown.