by Lori L. Lake
She nodded.
“Otherwise,” he said, clearing his throat, “how are you doing?”
She knew what he referred to, but she wasn’t about to speak of Ryan or her feelings or anything else the department shrink had encouraged her to discuss with her superiors and peers. Instead she said, “I’m hanging in there, Lieutenant. Some days better than others, but I’m fine.”
“Good to hear,” he said heartily. “Nice job. Go out and get ’em, Reilly. Have a good shift.”
“Yes, sir.” She’d only half heard him. Her head was busy trying to figure out why Jaylynn jumped ship. Beat her to the punch was maybe the better cliché, for she decided she felt like she’d been socked upside the head. She walked toward the women’s locker room in a daze, and sat on the bench outside her locker for several minutes before standing up and unlocking it. Unlike her neat apartment, her locker was stuffed full of gear and clothes. In a fit of frustration, she hauled everything out and piled it on the floor in front of her, then sat back on the bench with her head in her hands. Tears threatened to fall again, and she looked around in alarm only to note she was alone. Pull it together, Reilly, she thought as a feeling of panic ran through her. Don’t be foolish. You can’t expect her to want to keep riding with someone who just rejected her. Can’t go back to holding hands.
She gave a cynical laugh and began sorting through all her belongings and putting them in good order in the locker.
Jaylynn arrived in the meeting room seconds before the sergeant called roll. Dez sat on the side, near the back in her regular spot, drinking water from a quart bottle. Jaylynn glanced at her and noted the impassive face, the cold eyes, the alabaster skin. Dez’s eyes flicked toward her, not meeting Jaylynn’s gaze. Though Dez did give an almost imperceptible nod, she looked away and didn’t turn back. Jaylynn felt her knees shake and, instead of sitting in the back near her ex-partner, she took a spot in the middle of the room a few chairs ahead of her.
The sergeant called everyone to order as Cheryl came rushing in to join Jaylynn. “Didn’t miss anything, did I?” she whispered loudly.
“No. He’s just starting.”
Jaylynn tried to concentrate on what the duty sergeant was saying. She could hardly restrain herself from getting up and dragging Dez outside to talk. All she wanted was to explain the switch, make her understand. But what good would it do? We can’t talk about it anymore, and as she said, we just disagree. What would be the use of forcing the issue again? It didn’t work earlier. What could I say now? She’s made her decision, and I’ll respect it. I don’t have to like it, but I’ll respect it.
With a heavy heart, Jaylynn left after roll call ended, followed by Cheryl who laughed and talked with everyone on the way out the door to the parking lot. Jaylynn didn’t look back, but she swore she felt those chips of blue ice burning into her back.
Several days passed before Jaylynn felt like she’d regained her equilibrium. Each day’s roll call was a trial, but she managed, hoping each time it would get easier. It never did. She considered switching from Tour III, but she didn’t have enough seniority to bid onto Tour II days, and she sure didn’t want to work the Dog Watch graveyard shift. Besides, as much as it hurt, as much as it disconcerted her, she felt compelled to see the taciturn FTO. Sara told Jaylynn she was a sucker for sucker punches, but she couldn’t help herself.
Cheryl worked Saturday through Wednesday, so Jaylynn rode with her part of the time, but on Cheryl’s days off, she rode with a variety of cops. On Thursday and Friday, Jaylynn went to roll call and tried to pretend she wasn’t hoping she’d get assigned to Dez. But as a few more days went by, it appeared it might not happen. One night she rode with a gray-haired black cop, Reed, who very kindly quizzed her on procedures and helped her to learn the radio codes more thoroughly. Another night she had a miserable time with a handsome officer named Barstow who thought he was God’s gift to the world. She chalked it up to experience. After a week, she was assigned to ride with Crystal Lopez on Cheryl’s nights off.
Every afternoon, she found Dez in the back of the roll call room calmly sipping water, her face impassive. Was it her imagination or did the quiet cop’s face look more hollow and gaunt each day? Usually the blue eyes bored past her like cold icicles, not really connecting at all. Just one warm look—just one, Jaylynn thought. If only one time Dez would look even the slightest bit welcoming. But it didn’t happen. The words to a Stevie Nicks song, “I Still Miss Someone (Blue Eyes),” kept running through her head at inopportune moments. She tried to put the song out of her mind, but it kept coming back to haunt her.
One night after she’d worked with Crystal off and on for a week, they got on the subject of Dez Reilly. Jaylynn drove slowly through the Selby-Dale area, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. The night was quiet with lots of dead time for chatting, and she and Crystal touched on the lives of many of their fellow officers.
“Can I ask you something?” Crystal said.
“Sure.”
“What’s up with you and Dez?”
“What do you mean?” Jaylynn asked, holding her breath.
Crystal reached across the car and punched her playfully in the arm. “Come on, mi amiga, I know her well enough, and I’m getting to know you. She’s giving you that tough macha mean chick routine. She doesn’t do that unless you got under her skin. What’d you do to her?”
Jaylynn kept her hands on the wheel, but gripped it tightly. She stumbled on her words, not knowing how to explain. “I don’t know. I mean, I can’t say. It’s not that I did anything to her. It’s more like she doesn’t want to be around me.”
“That’s hard for me to believe. She likes you a lot. I can tell. She only said good things about you when she was training you. And believe me, once she’s your friend, it’s for always. She’s very loyal. We had a big screaming fight one time—” Crystal laughed heartily. “Let me rephrase that—she didn’t say much. We had a disagreement, and I bitched at her big time. We were really pissed at each other. The next night I found out my partner’s mother was deathly sick. I lived in a rough neighborhood back then, so Dez came to housesit and take care of the dogs so we could go to Louisiana. I didn’t even know she was allergic to dogs ’til we got back. It was winter, and she basically slept on the three-season porch in a sleeping bag, but hey, she looked out for our house. She’s reliable, that one is. Even if she’s pissed at you, she’ll treat you fair.”
“What happened to your partner?”
“Nothin’. Why?”
“I mean where is he or she now?”
Crystal gave her a blank look. “She’s at home, where else?”
Jaylynn paused a moment. “So she doesn’t ride with you anymore?”
Crystal let out a snort of laughter. “Shayna wouldn’t be caught dead in light blue. Says she only looks good in orange and olive and autumn colors. Colors like that make me look sallow and dead.” She laughed again. “No, she’s not on the force. She never wanted to be a cop. Ever. She works at a craft store framing stuff, selling thread and needles and shit like that. And she’s my partner. My sweetie. Know what I mean?”
Jaylynn felt embarrassed for being so dense, but she grinned and made light of her misunderstanding. “Oh! Partner—like a wife. Gotta get me one of them.”
“Si, senorita. Real good idea. You sure you’re the type?”
“Uh huh, though my mother will probably be disappointed.”
“No wonder you and I get along so fine,” Crystal said. “I should have known. But hey, I don’t assume. Bad idea, you know. So now you can tell me all about your life and loves. You with anyone now?”
“Nah, not since the first couple of years of college. Didn’t work out.”
“I know quite a few nice girls—single, I mean—I should introduce you to.”
“No, I don’t know—”
“What?” Crystal playfully stuck her arm out as though she was going to smack Jaylynn again, but Jaylynn fended her off. “You’re young, you’re s
weet, you got those nice hazel eyes. I bet you look great in street clothes. I could set you up with a ton of good-looking chicas. You just say the word.”
“Sure. I’ll let you know.”
Crystal gave a sigh. “All right, why you holding back, Jay?”
Jaylynn grimaced. “My heart’s not in it right yet. Kind of a rebound thing.”
“You let me know. We can go out to the club, meet some nice women. I’ll show you around. When you’re ready.”
Jaylynn nodded and smiled over at her, then turned left and headed north over the freeway overpass.
Crystal put her hand out and grasped Jaylynn’s forearm. “Let me give you a piece of advice about Dez. Don’t let her mean ass routine get to you. She looks like that on the outside. On the inside she’s mush.”
When Jaylynn didn’t answer and only nodded slightly, Crystal watched her surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye. She shook her head and smiled a knowing smile, taking a few minutes to think before starting up another conversation about an entirely different subject.
Crystal continued to badger Jaylynn about going out and about meeting new friends. Finally, one afternoon toward the middle of March, Jaylynn agreed to go out after their shift was over.
“All right!” Crystal peeked around the corner in the locker room. “Lemme just call Shayna, and we’ll see who we can round up. I know Merilee will come, and maybe Marshall, that other new rookie. I don’t know her first name yet, but hey,” she said suggestively, “she’s pretty cute.” Crystal flashed her a wide smile and then disappeared through the locker room door.
Jaylynn shook her head. Pretty cute. Ha. That’s the last thing I need. Paula Marshall was pleasant at Police Academy, and Jaylynn had liked her a lot, but not to date. She felt no spark between them. Paula might eventually be a good friend, though. She finished buttoning up her blue shirt, tucked it in, and fastened her belt. She checked her watch and decided she’d better get a move on. She hastened around the corner to the bathrooms and ran smack into 175 pounds of glowering Desiree Reilly.
“Uh, sorry,” she said as she rebounded off the solid form.
In response, Dez inclined her head, giving Jaylynn the slightest of nods, then scowled and hastened past. Jaylynn figured she must have heard the conversation with Crystal, and she wondered if that was why Dez had been so abrupt. No, actually, she was rude. She went into the bathroom stall fuming. She doesn’t own me. She can’t pick my friends. If I want to go out and whoop it up, then dammit, I will. She emerged from the restroom and took the stairs two at a time.
As she passed down the hall toward the roll call room, a clerk on the telephone gestured to her, and she stopped, puzzled. “Me?” she asked, pointing to her own chest.
He nodded. “Yeah. Phone call here.”
She walked across the Comm Center and took the phone from him.
“Hello, sweetie,” said a kindly voice.
“Luella?”
“That’s me. Say, I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner again. I haven’t seen you for so long, I’m missing you.”
“How nice to hear! Sure, I’ll come. When?”
They arranged to have supper the following Tuesday night, and Jaylynn hung up the phone and hustled over to the roll call room. She was glad to hear from Luella. She had missed her a lot.
Jaylynn arrived at Luella’s house and parked her new Camry out front. She got out of the car and slammed the door, looking down with pride at her most expensive acquisition ever. She’d gotten quite tired of relying on the bus and the vagaries of Tim’s schedule in order to get around, and had been saving for three months. The previous day she bought the modest gray Camry from a neighbor who’d upgraded to an Avalon. The bank loaned her the money without a problem, and now she was the proud possessor of a neat and tidy Toyota with less than thirty-eight thousand miles on it.
When she got into Luella’s house she proudly pointed it out, and Luella surprised her by saying, “Well, hey! Let’s take it for a spin.”
“You want to drive?”
“No, but you can be the chauffeur.”
“What about your dinner?”
“That’s the nice thing about casseroles. I’ll just lower the heat a bit, and we’ll come back in fifteen minutes to a nice hot dinner.” After a quick visit to the kitchen, Luella returned to the porch and shrugged on her black quilted jacket. Today she wore a scarlet wool skirt and a long-sleeved ivory blouse. She slipped out of the ubiquitous pink slippers and into a clunky pair of Nikes. “Wish I could still wear heels, but these old feet won’t allow it.”
Jaylynn pointed to her Nikes. “I’ll take sport shoes any day. I don’t care if I ever wear fancy shoes again.” She took Luella’s arm and they made their way down the stairs.
“I always liked elegant shoes. Had a whole closet full when I was a young thing like you.” She sighed. “But times change. I’m just thankful to God that I can still get around at my advanced age.”
Jaylynn laughed. “I can only hope I’m in half as good a shape when I’m your age, Luella.” She opened the passenger door, helped her in, and shut the door.
Dez watched from the upstairs bathroom window. She saw Jaylynn tuck Luella into the car and hurry around to the driver’s side to get in. As they drove off, Dez wondered where the car came from. She knew it didn’t belong to Tim. Maybe Sara’s? She backed away from the window and wandered into the living room and stood uncertainly for a moment. Luella hadn’t told her she’d invited Jaylynn over, and she wondered whether Luella knew she and Jaylynn weren’t speaking. Sometimes she thought Luella was psychic.
She cracked her knuckles and shook her hands out before reaching down to snag her acoustic guitar. She slouched down on the couch, one foot up on the coffee table. Checking the strings, she adjusted the tuning and started picking a pattern and playing various chords with it. Her mind wandered as she played.
She considered the friendship that started to develop with Jaylynn and how it had been ruined. She wasn’t sure how she could have done things differently, but she knew she should have. Why did things never make sense to her until she thought about them for a long while? It took her so long to figure out what she was feeling, so no wonder she didn’t have any close friends anymore, not that she’d ever had many.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she scolded. What’s the point? She focused on playing the guitar, moving through a series of minor chords and throwing in some C-majors and F-majors. A smile came to her. This chord progression and melody was going to stay with her. Lately, every time she picked up the guitar it flowed out of her fingers, and every time it happened she thought of Jaylynn. Guess I’ll have to call this “Jaylynn’s Song.” Maybe someday I’ll think of some words to go with it. She leaned the guitar against the couch cushion and got up and moved over to the roll-top desk. Sliding the top open, she avoided looking at the pair of photographs on the inside desk surface and instead grabbed a pencil and a stack of lined paper, and shut the top.
At the coffee table, she spent some time writing out the chord progression and the melody line for the song. In the middle of it, she heard the downstairs door slam, so she rose and looked out the bathroom window again. The gray Camry was once more parked out front.
A part of her wanted very much to go down the back stairs and drop in, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Up until the last few days, her pride would not have let her even think of such a thing, but her pride wasn’t preventing her from doing it now. She didn’t think Jaylynn would appreciate the intrusion. It was obvious Friday afternoon in the locker room that she had moved on to other “cuter” friends. Besides, Jaylynn had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with her, so Dez had no intention of upsetting her any more than she already had. She sighed and moved back into the living room, now feeling unexpectedly claustrophobic. Shuddering, she returned to the couch where she picked up the guitar and quietly played the chord progression she couldn’t get out of her head.
CHA
PTER FIFTEEN
Saint Patrick’s Day dawned clear and cold, but sunny. Jaylynn rolled out of bed in response to the clock radio blaring. She wasn’t happy to go to work early, by eleven a.m., and to work until at least midnight. For one thing, that meant she wouldn’t get to run at all today. But the day was also going to be awfully long. The old timers on the force had told her Saint Paddy’s Day was always fun because of the parades and festive spirits, but Saint Paddy’s Night was hell with all the drunk driving and bar brawls. The pleasant March weather was likely to bring out a raft of people, though her colleagues said it wouldn’t be as bad on a Tuesday night compared to when the holiday fell on a weekend.
She showered, dressed, ate a big breakfast, and packed a variety of snacks to take with her to the station. She wasn’t used to arriving in the roll call room so early and obviously, neither were her fellow shift members. Oster looked like he’d rolled out of bed and forgotten to brush his short hair. Pilcher and Lopez sat in the folding chairs yawning and complaining. The rest sat in silence, waiting to jumpstart their day. Even the duty sergeant was crabby. Jaylynn sat down in a chair near Lopez, but not before noticing haunted blue eyes in the rear of the room. Dez leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest and feet up on a chair in front of her. If she didn’t know better, Jaylynn would wonder if the Irish cop had already tied one on the night before. Instead, she suspected Dez simply hadn’t slept enough.
Jaylynn listened carefully as the duty sergeant outlined their assignments. At half past eleven, all of them were to be out in full force in downtown Saint Paul to line the streets during the parade. The sergeant went through a long list of “do’s and don’ts,” then quickly shouted out which corners each would be assigned for the duration of the parade and its aftermath. Jaylynn knew she would be in front of the parking lot on the corner of Fifth and Wabasha with Crystal down the block near the towering Landmark Center. They would go on patrol, have an early meal break, and be ready for events to start rolling as it grew dark out.