Gun Shy

by Lori L. Lake

  “Good evening, folks,” Dez said smugly.

  They mumbled greetings and looked away from her, at one another and around the store.

  “You two been out partying?”

  Jaylynn watched the thin man begin to quiver as he tried to shake his head no. She saw both kids’ eyes were vacant and glassy.

  Dez said, “You got any ID?”

  The girl pulled a driver’s license out of her back pocket, but the boy shook his head.

  “You better not be driving,” Dez said to him.

  “No, sir, I mean no, ma’am.”

  In a low menacing voice, Dez said, “You better not be jerking me around.”

  “No,” he said, a note of desperation in his voice. “Honest. I’m not.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Arnie Jensen.”

  “You go to school around here, Mr. Jensen?”

  He nodded. “St. Thomas.”

  “And you don’t even have any school ID?” She handed the license back to the girl.

  “Not on me, officer.” His speech was slow, but he was trying hard not to slur. He swallowed and took a gulp of air. The girl tucked her license back into her pocket and stood sullenly holding the cold bottle of Mountain Dew.

  Dez said, “Huh, I’ll bet you’re not twenty-one.”

  The boy didn’t respond.

  Dez stared at him for a few seconds. “Where do your parents live?”

  “Duluth.”

  “You play any sports?”

  He spoke in a slow mumble now. “Hockey.”

  “How would you like me to call up your parents and tell them their son is stoned out of his mind and should be taken home? How would you like me to contact your coach and let him know about this little incident?”

  The boy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and suddenly his voice was much clearer. “I wouldn’t like that at all. Please, please don’t.”

  Jaylynn marveled that the boy was still on his feet since his legs were shaking so badly. The contrast of his black hair against pale skin made him look unnaturally pallid. She looked up at Dez beside her and realized her FTO was enjoying the confrontation. Her eyes sparkled and she seemed to be working very hard to maintain a stony face. To the girl she said, “I would suggest you leave that car of yours right out there and either walk home or call for a ride. If I see you drive the car out of this lot, you’re goin’ downtown for a fun night in jail.”

  Now the girl’s eyes nearly bugged out. She set the liter of Mountain Dew down on a stacked display of Valvoline motor oil. “Can we go?” she asked.

  Dez inclined her head slowly, nodding while she fixed a mean stare on the two. As if a starter’s gun had gone off, both plaid-shirted kids bolted for the door, the boy looking back only once. Jaylynn saw them walk around the side of the building to the Nova. The girl reached in for something and locked up the car. Without a backward glance, they took off down the street.

  Dez picked up the sweating bottle of pop and returned it to the cold case. “I’ll be back in a second.” She disappeared around the corner to the rest room.

  Jaylynn watched the boy and girl as they ambled away from the gas station. The girl’s gait was steady, but the boy lurched along. The second time he stumbled, the girl took his arm and leaned into him. They turned the corner and that was the last she saw of them.

  Jaylynn hadn’t been one to get wasted in high school or college. She’d been a “good kid” and hadn’t gotten in much trouble—at least not trouble anyone ever caught her at. She smiled thinking about all the small parties she’d been at where everyone mostly sat around drinking beer or wine and playing Trivial Pursuit. She’d always enjoyed staying sober enough to converse—not to mention being lucid enough to laugh about intelligently funny things. She’d never liked hangovers anyway, and from what she tell, both those kids were going to feel rotten in the morning.

  Dez reappeared next to her, startling her from her thoughts, and flashed a glance toward Jaylynn. “You want a pop or something?”

  “Sure.” Jaylynn stepped to the cold case and opened the glass door. She snagged a Pepsi and watched as Dez picked out a quart bottle of Chippewa Spring Water.

  When they got to the counter, Dez waved her away and took out her own wallet. “I’ll get this. You can get the next round.”

  In a pleasant voice the counter clerk, a gray-haired man with a significant five o’clock shadow, said, “You running my business outta here again, Reilly?”

  “Yeah, can’t be helped. Buncha drunk college students. They’ll be back to get that car.” She pointed to the gray heap out the side window. “You’ll get some business from them then.”

  He said, “Why don’t you go ahead and take that on the house?”

  “Thanks, Mr. Fisher, but this is your livelihood.” She offered him some bills. He rang up the purchase, took two pennies out of the penny dish by the register, and handed her even change.

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on this place.”

  “No problem. See you later.” She twisted the cap off the bottle as she moved toward the door, her long legs eating up the distance in four steps. Jaylynn scooped up her Pepsi and strode quickly behind her. They got back in the car, and Jaylynn took a swig of her pop.

  “No matter what,” Dez said, “pay for everything wherever you go. Some guys take stuff on the house. Don’t do it, Savage. It’s too short a step to being on the take.”

  Jaylynn nodded. “Okay. By the way, would you mind calling me Jaylynn—or just Jay, if you want. I’m still not used to everyone calling me Savage.” She giggled. “Makes me sound like a brute.”

  “Okay. Eat if you want now. We may not get much chance later.” She opened her paper sack and drew out an item wrapped in wax paper. Jaylynn unzipped her fanny pack and extracted a package of Hostess chocolate cupcakes. She started picking at the cellophane as Dez’s wax paper opened to reveal a sandwich, thick with turkey or chicken. Dez saw her peering at the sandwich in the dark. “Want half?”.

  “Oh, no, that’s okay. I can eat this.”

  “A cupcake won’t stay with you long, Savage—I mean, Jaylynn. Here, have half. I’ve got three more in the bag.”

  Jaylynn accepted the sandwich. “You brought four sandwiches?”

  “I usually do.” She took a big bite and while chewing said, “I don’t always eat the bread, but I need the protein.”

  Jaylynn nodded as though she understood completely, though she had no idea why Dez would need four sandwiches. She took a bite and found the turkey cool and moist, even if it was all too dry for her taste. “What’s on this?”

  “Turkey. Nutty oat bread.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah. You don’t like it?”

  “No, no, it’s good,” she hastened to say. “The turkey is nice and tender.”

  “I try to spice up the meat because I don’t put on mayo or anything like that.”

  “I see. Want one of these cupcakes for dessert?”

  “Sorry. Never eat sugars after six. But thanks.” She popped the last of the sandwich in her mouth and swiped her hands on her pants legs, then started the car. “Okay, let’s get back at it.” She drove out of the parking lot and swung onto the dark street. “I think we should take a look at that party over by Hamline again.” With gusto she said, “Won’t be long before we get to arrest a few people, which ought to liven up your night.”

  From that moment on, Jaylynn noted Dez’s demeanor toward her changed. For no apparent reason, her FTO began to talk—rather, she gave information, and lots of it. She explained what she was doing and why. She gave advice. She quizzed Jaylynn about procedures and laws. In short, she made the nights of observation fly by, and every day when midnight approached, Jaylynn was sorry to have to knock off and go home. By the time the ride-along observations were over, she was enthusiastic about getting into her regulation uniform and assuming her duties.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Dez Reilly sat at a desk in the Reports
Room putting the finishing touches on FTO reports for Oster, Mahoney, and Savage. They recruits had performed adequately—or better—during their initial rotations with her. She was recommending to Lieutenant Malcolm that all three be advanced to official rookie status after the first of the year. She slid open the metal drawer on the rickety desk and picked out a stapler to tack the pages. Rising, she scooped up her bottle of spring water and the reports and headed off down the hall to turn them in.

  The watch commander’s office was next to Lieutenant Malcolm’s, and as she passed, she saw the room was decorated with red and white Santa mosaics, pictures of misshapen Christmas trees, and yards of red and green chains made of construction paper. Every year, Commander Parr’s five kids trimmed the office he shared with the other commanders, and every year Dez was amazed at the sheer volume of bad art.

  The duty sergeant looked up from his report and greeted her. Belton, a slim black man in his fifties, had always gotten along well with her. She gave him the stack of reports. He said, “Hi, Reilly. You working Christmas Eve?”

  “Yeah. I took Christmas Day off, but I’ll be here tomorrow. And New Year’s Eve and Day, too.”

  He shook his head. “Glutton for punishment, huh?”

  She shrugged. “What the hey. I’ll use the double time money for something special—maybe get myself a facial or something.”

  He frowned and looked up only to see the twinkle in her eyes. He stifled a smirk. “Try the pedicure. My wife swears by it.”

  She nodded solemnly. “Pass these on to the lieutenant for me, okay?”

  “Will do. And Reilly?”

  She paused. “Yeah?”

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “You, too, Sarge. Hope you have a nice holiday.”

  She turned away, catching a whiff of evergreen smell reminding her of Christmas trees and reindeer. She headed off down the hall to the back entrance to get some fresh air, fully aware that she’d grown to dislike Christmas. She paced outside in the late afternoon light, her hands behind her back. Don’t want to be a grinch though, she thought. She didn’t hate the holidays, but she was grateful when they passed. The only thing that made Christmas bearable was Luella. Her landlady always invited over her clan of family and friends starting on Christmas Eve, and the celebration extended for several days after, with people coming and going, bringing presents, sharing holiday food. Dez was glad her apartment was separate, though. She could get away when she needed a break, or she could choose to hang around the pack of laughing, jovial people who showed up for the cheer and good food.

  Other than Luella’s shindig, Dez attended no festivities. Her father was dead, she didn’t speak to her mother, and she had no idea how to contact her younger brother. Family had not been in her picture for a number of years, and she liked it just fine that way.

  An old red Toyota rolled into the parking lot and stopped a dozen feet away, the occupants unaware of her leaning against the side of the building. She watched as Jaylynn leaned over to give a brief kiss to the red-haired guy from last summer, then launched herself out the passenger door, hustling through the chilly air to the back entrance.

  Dez shivered. The man backed up the clunking car and made his way out of the parking lot, not noticing she was staring daggers at him. She exhaled a big breath of air and watched as it clouded white smoke in front of her face. Full of tension, she stomped over to the door and went in, making her way downstairs to the roll call room.

  Dez sat on a metal folding chair near the back of the silent briefing room and took a long pull from her water bottle. Checking her watch, she noted she had nineteen minutes until roll call. She set the water bottle on the floor and closed her eyes. Starting with her feet, she systematically tightened and released her muscles until she sat motionless and relaxed. She heard a tiny squeak, and her eyelids popped open to find Jaylynn standing uncertainly in the doorway.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “You’re not interrupting.” Dez straightened up in her chair and stretched neck muscles that still felt tight.

  Jaylynn strode into the room and sat in the chair next to Dez. “Do you have big plans for tomorrow?”

  “The usual.”

  Jaylynn suppressed a grin with difficulty. Getting any personal information out of Dez was next to impossible. She’d already learned that prying didn’t work; Dez only retreated farther underground. So far, the only tactic that yielded results was to overflow Dez with her own personal details, and then occasionally the veteran cop volunteered something.

  Jaylynn said, “I guess I’ll have quite the phone bill this year. I’m staying in town, so I’ll have to call my family. Lucky I can go hang out with Sara’s folks, and of course Tim has the house decorated to the nines.” She paused, giving Dez opportunity to speak. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Dez take a swig of her water. She decided Dez used those bottles of water like some people used cigarettes—as a distraction. Dez didn’t appear to be listening at all, so when the dark head swung toward her and penetrating blue eyes bored into Jaylynn, she was taken aback.

  “Where does your family live?”

  “Seattle.”

  Dez nodded slowly. “Why don’t you fly out for Christmas?”

  “There isn’t enough time.”

  “You could take some extra days. The sergeant would work it out.”

  Jaylynn smiled warmly. “I wanted to stay. I didn’t want to miss any training. Besides, they’ll all be here over spring vacation in a few months, so I’m looking forward to that.”

  Dez took another drink from the bottle. “You’re off tomorrow though, right?”

  “Yeah, I think we’re planning on eating about six different meals at various places. I’ll be a couch potato by shift time, so I didn’t want to have to work.”

  Oster shot into the room. “Hey guys,” he said enthusiastically. “How you two doing?” He clapped a meaty hand on Jaylynn’s shoulder and sat next to her, two chairs away from Dez.

  Dez tossed him a glance and nodded.

  Jaylynn said, “Things are going okay. What are you doing for the holiday?”

  Oster crossed his arms across his chest and shared a smug, self-satisfied look. “I’m givin’ my girlfriend the biggest diamond rock I could afford and hoping she’ll say yes.”

  Jaylynn gasped and socked the smiling man in the arm. She threw an arm around him and gave him a hug. “I’m so happy for you, Mitch! I just know she’ll say yes. Who could resist you?” She sat back in her chair, eyes shining, and gave the blushing man another punch in the upper arm. “Where you going on your honeymoon?”

  “That’s totally up to her. If she’ll marry me, we’ll go anywhere she wants. I think she’ll pick Hawaii though.”

  Dez said in a low tone, “Hope you’re packing away a ton of dough, Oster. Hawaii ain’t cheap.”

  Oster leaned forward in his chair. “Ever heard of charge cards, Reilly?” He grinned as he sat back and beamed at Jaylynn. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life, Jay. I’ve got this great job that I really like, and I think I’m gonna marry Donna.” He did a little chair dance but stopped when a clatter of footsteps came down the stairs and some of the other officers filed into the room followed shortly by the duty sergeant.

  Dez casually focused her attention on Oster, staring at him over Jaylynn and out of the corner of her eye. She frowned. For some reason Oster’s happy news rankled her. She wanted to smack him. She turned away and concentrated on the sergeant’s updates.

  Dez’s sour mood persisted through the shift, which was eventful, though routine. She and Jaylynn broke up the same kind of bar fights, arrested battling spouses for the same kind of domestic disputes, and answered the same kind of noise complaints as any other night. The only difference was the proliferation of seasonal red and gold and green splattered all over every home and business. By the time midnight rolled around Dez decided she did indeed feel like a grinch.

  When they returned to th
e station, Jaylynn signed out and headed straight downstairs. Dez took a detour to the property room and dropped off a watch they’d found on the street. Sooner or later, perhaps someone would come looking for it. She threw her empty plastic water bottle in the trash and headed down the stairs, meeting Jaylynn coming up. Jaylynn carried a gym bag and had changed into tennis shoes, blue sweat bottoms, and a big bulky coat.

  “Have a good day tomorrow,” Jaylynn said in a tired voice.

  “You, too. See you Saturday.” Dez squeezed past and made her way into the locker room, unbuttoning her shirt as she drew near the locker. In front of her bright blue metal storage locker sat a small square package, wrapped in red, blue, and green striped paper and adorned with a golden bow no bigger than a walnut. She bent over and picked it up, hefting the lightweight present and recognizing it immediately as a CD. She removed a tiny card from the front, ripped open the envelope, and read it: Merry Christmas, Dez. Thanks for all your help during my training. I can never thank you enough. Love, Jaylynn.

  She tore away the wrapping paper and uncovered a disc by someone she’d never heard of: Lisa Stansfield. Crunching up the cellophane and colorful wrapping paper, she walked over to the garbage and tossed them in. She felt bad. This was a kind gesture from her trainee, and she knew she’d been such a grump all night that Jaylynn couldn’t have enjoyed the evening. Oh, well. Not her job to entertain the new recruits.

  She changed, gathered up her things, and trudged upstairs to the lieutenant’s office. The duty sergeant was away from his desk, so she tapped on the frame of the open door, and Lieutenant Malcolm looked up, startled. “Hey, Reilly. You have an okay shift?”

  “Yes, sir. Went fine.” She gestured at the compact disk in her hand. “My assignee, Savage, left me a Christmas present. I understand from the rules that FTOs aren’t supposed to—”

  Waving his hand through the air, he cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, she mentioned it to me, and I gave her the okay.” He smiled at her. “Will a ten buck item cause you to give her a good recommendation if she doesn’t deserve it?”