Done in One (9781466857841)

by Jerkins, Grant; Thomas, Jan

The women watched him go. Megan frowned.

  “If you had kids, maybe he’d get it.”

  Jill fussed with the helium-filled party balloons tied to each chair, trying to ignore her sister. She asked, “What else needs to be done?”

  Megan’s answer to this was, “I guess God knew what he was doing, not bringing children into that kind of life.”

  Kate looked up sharply and said, “Megan!” Even she thought that was too harsh.

  “What? I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. But, am I wrong? He has no concept of the importance of family.”

  Jill sighed, ashamed to find herself near tears. And there was no way on this earth that she would shed a tear in front of her sister or her mother. She scooped up Caitlyn, nuzzling her neck and giving her butterfly kisses. “Let’s catch Brodie.”

  On her way out, she could hear Megan stage whisper to their mother, “What? So now it’s my fault she can’t get pregnant?”

  Family is so fucking special.

  * * *

  Loaded down with gear, and sticky with a long day’s worth of sweat and belly-crawling dirt, Jacob and Kathryn entered through the rear of the main building of the Sheriff’s complex. They looked exhausted. Kathryn headed for the door to the women’s locker room/shower. Jacob headed to the men’s section directly opposite, then stopped abruptly.

  “Hey!”

  “What’s up?”

  “Good job training today. You’ve almost completed Phase One.”

  “Almost, huh? Thank you. I appreciate it. How many phases are there? You know, out of idle curiosity.”

  “Only a few. Depends on the trainee. But, I was wondering. After we get cleaned up, us and our weapons, that is.”

  Kathryn rolled her eyes. Of course the weapons, too.

  “Would you like to go out for a drink?”

  Kathryn stared at him. She had steeled herself for some new level of training hell to be proposed. Shooting while hanging upside down from a tree. Smearing fecal matter into open wounds before plugging a dime at a hundred yards. But not this.

  “Uhm. Well.”

  “Unless you had other plans?”

  “No, no. Yeah, okay. Sure.”

  “Great. Meet in the parking lot around 1800 hours.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll be there.”

  “Okay, then. It’s a date.”

  Jacob turned and disappeared through the men’s locker room door.

  * * *

  Dressed in worn jeans and a plain white t-shirt, freshly scrubbed and with still-damp hair, Kathryn stood beside her Ford pickup in the gated employee section of the Sheriff’s complex parking lot. Waiting on Jacob. Men typically got themselves ready faster than women. She wondered if he was gussying himself up, getting ready for their “date.” If he smelled like anything other than soap, she was going to make an excuse and bow out. If he was wearing cologne, she was hightailing it. God forbid, Polo. Fuckin’Denton.

  But why was she so anxious? If a female deputy had wanted to meet up and have a beer after work, she wouldn’t have thought anything of it. She would have appreciated the friendship. But there was a power discrepancy between Kathryn and Jacob. While he couldn’t technically fire her, he was her trainer and her future within the S.O. in general, and within the SWAT team in particular, hinged on his approval. Jake Denton, the very married Jake Denton, held her future in his hands. And now he wanted to meet for drinks after work. This was bad. Fuckin’Denton. What exactly had earned him that nickname?

  When he’d said “it’s a date,” she figured he was being cute. Ironic. But now she wondered. She could tell him that she was gay. That typically worked. Except for the ones who were into that, and it ended up enflaming their desire. She’d seen it before. What the hell was wrong with men?

  She heard the back door creak open, and saw Jacob emerge. The evening breeze brought the smell of his cologne to her long before he made it down to her truck. Polo. He smelled like a teenager headed out for his senior prom. Fuck.

  “I know a place just down the road. I think it’s closer to your house, so if we drive our own cars we can leave from there.”

  “Sure, okay.”

  Jacob unlocked his vehicle.

  “So just follow me.”

  * * *

  The Sidewinder was a cozy bar with just a few tables and booths. The redwood bar was long and beautifully preserved, as were the vintage pool tables in the back. There was a small dance floor off to one side for live music. But tonight, the jukebox played.

  Jacob and Kathryn found a booth in the back.

  “I’m having a Corona. What can I get for you?”

  “Corona is fine, thank you.”

  Jacob went to the bar, paid and returned with the two Coronas.

  He sat and slid one across to her.

  “Thank you.”

  Jacob held his bottle up.

  “Here’s to a long, dedicated partnership.”

  “Here’s to an end to Phase One.”

  Jacob laughed. It was happy and unexpected. It caught Kathryn off guard. He seemed to light up from the inside. She clinked bottles with him. They each took a pull and then sat in awkward silence.

  Jacob said, “So. I know you’re not married, or I think I know.”

  “Nope. Not married.”

  She studied him. Wary.

  “But you are, right? Jill?”

  “Jill, yeah.”

  Another sip.

  Jacob asked, “Any kids?”

  “No. No kids. You?”

  “Nope.”

  They both took another pull. Only dentistry could be more uncomfortable.

  “Plan to have any?” he asked.

  “Uhm, I don’t know.” Kathryn looked back at the pool tables, hoping to intimate to Jacob that this particular line of conversation was not one that engaged her.

  “You don’t?”

  She faced him once again. “I don’t? What? If I plan…?”

  “Yeah. You don’t know if you plan.”

  “To have kids?”

  “Right.”

  “No … I’ve never had to think about it. I mean, maybe, well sure, if I met the right person.”

  “Have you?”

  “What?”

  “Met the right guy?”

  A long pause.

  Kathryn finally said, “I’m not sure. Why are you asking me these questions? It feels uncomfortable.”

  “Just small talk.”

  “I didn’t think you did small talk.”

  Jacob chuckled, and they both took another drink. Jacob got up.

  “Just some things to think about. That’s all. Men’s room, be right back.”

  Kathryn watched him walk away. Nice ass. But not for her.

  * * *

  The birthday party was over. Jill and Brodie sat in the porch swing staring up at the moon. Jill had her arm around him.

  “Auntie Jill?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Can I ask you somethin’?”

  “Sure, little man. What’s up?”

  “Do you ever get scared for Uncle Jacob?”

  “Do you?”

  Brodie snuggled in closer and said, “Sometimes. I get scared he’s gonna get hurt.”

  “Well, I guess I get scared, too, sometimes. But you know what? Uncle Jake works really, really hard at his job and he practices all the time to be very safe. So I’ve learned to trust what I know he can do.” Jill wriggled a finger into the boy’s ticklish side. “Like you on the basketball court … from the three-point line.”

  “I rock from the three-point line!”

  “I know you do, I’ve seen it!”

  The two were quiet for a while, listening to the insects chirping in the night.

  Brodie said, “If Uncle Jacob dies can we split his stuff?”

  Jill looked at the boy in mock shock, then exploded in laughter. Megan appeared behind them and cleared her throat.

  “Brodie, time to say good night to Aunt Jill so we can head home and
get ready for bed.”

  Brodie kissed Jill and she kissed and hugged him back.

  “Happy birthday, sport.”

  Brodie scurried off the swing.

  “And tell her thank you for your present.”

  “Thank you for my present.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Okay Brodie, go give Grandma a kiss, she’s inside.”

  Brodie ran to the sliding door and went in. Jill stayed seated in the swing as her sister loomed behind her.

  “You know, I’m not sure I want you teaching my son that stuff.”

  Jill turned and looked her sister square in the eye.

  “And what stuff would that be?”

  “This whole ‘superhero’ thing like Jake’s got some higher calling from God. He can take a day off anytime he wants to. He just doesn’t. Like we’re not important enough for him to even—”

  “Oh, I see. So he should come here to Brodie’s birthday party, and if someone takes hostages on the other side of town, who handles it? Well?”

  “Well, how should I know, but certainly there are plenty of other officers.”

  Jill stood and faced her sister.

  “Well, therein lies the distinction. There are other officers, but there is only one sniper. He can take time off and he does. But he’s on call twenty-four-seven, 365 days a year. He can’t control or predict when something happens and when it does he has to go. That’s why you’ve never seen him drunk and never will. He lives his life in a constant state of readiness. If he isn’t ready, there just isn’t anyone else who can do it.”

  “Well, obviously an emergency is an emergency but—”

  “The sooner he gets someone trained the sooner he gets to have someone else who can do it, then he can be here for things like this, don’t you see that?”

  Jill also believed, but would never in a million years tell Megan, that Jake felt a need to get his partner trained as much and as quickly as possible before his appointment with the psychiatrist. Just in case.

  “All I see is all this extra ‘training time’ with a female partner.”

  “Please don’t do this to me, Megan.”

  “Can’t handle the hard questions?”

  “You know what? Talk to your son. He’s got the guts to ask the really hard questions and to face the answers. But since you are clearly clueless, next time, try thinking it through, you know? Before you open your fucking mouth.”

  Megan’s jaw dropped open. Jill stormed by her and through the sliding glass door.

  * * *

  At the Sidewinder, Jacob returned to the table where Kathryn had nearly finished her beer. He looked at his watch.

  “Do you need to go?” She sounded hopeful.

  “Just checking the time.”

  He nodded at her beer. “You see an end to that?”

  She stared at him, then grabbed the bottle and downed the last few sips. His beer was still half full.

  “Okay then. Let’s go,” he said and stood up.

  “What?”

  “Let’s go. We’ve got stuff to do.”

  Kathryn slid from the booth and followed Jacob outside.

  In the parking lot, Jacob marched headlong for his truck. He called over his shoulder to Kathryn, “You okay to drive?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Great. Follow me.”

  Jacob got into his truck. Kathryn ran for her Ford to keep up.

  Out on the road, Kathryn struggled to keep up with Jacob who made abrupt turns in front of her until she was hopelessly lost.

  They emerged on a dirt road, and she had to slow down because the dust thrown up by Jacob’s truck obliterated visibility. Her Ford bounced and swayed on the rugged road. She hunched over the steering wheel, trying to see. The dust cleared all at once and Jacob was stopped directly in front of her. She hit her brakes and came close to rear-ending him. A small gate was stretched between two creosote-laden poles and blocked access to the road ahead.

  Jacob walked back to Kathryn’s truck. She rolled down her window.

  “I’ve got a key. I’ll swing it open and you drive around me and through, then I’ll follow. Just keep going about seventy-five yards and you’ll see a little turnout area for parking. Anywhere is fine.”

  “Okay.” She rolled up her window and did as he asked. The idea of being raped, beaten, and left for dead entered her mind. After driving through the gate she watched in her rearview mirror as Jacob pulled through, then exited his car and locked the gate behind them.

  Raped. Beaten. Left for dead. And all the surveillance footage from both the office and the bar parking lots (if they even had any) would show, was that she arrived in her own vehicle and drove off in her own vehicle. If anything, it looked like she was chasing him.

  She kept rolling forward and found the turnout Jacob described. She parked and turned off her car. And waited for her violent sexual assault. She was joking with herself, playing mind games. Kathryn could take care of herself. Even against a man as physically imposing as Jacob Denton. She wondered just what the hell he was up to, but she didn’t feel like she was in danger. Yet.

  There was a small weathered shed off to the right and beyond that, a large football field–size area, seemingly clear, though there were hulking shadows in the moonlight. The area was filled with something, but just what that something was, Kathryn couldn’t tell. Jacob pulled up next to her and cut his engine. He exited his vehicle, and Kathryn followed suit.

  Jacob pulled something from the toolbox mounted to the truck bed and put it in his pocket. Kathryn stood waiting. Jacob walked over to her.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Drunk? No.”

  “At least a little buzzed?”

  “Well, yeah, I can feel something. It was just one beer, though.”

  “Perfect. Get your rifle.”

  “What?”

  “Get your rifle out.”

  Jacob marched toward the shed, unlocked a padlock, and disappeared inside. Kathryn retrieved her Remington from the truck. She heard a switch being thrown, releasing electricity, and suddenly there was light at the far end of the field. A small row of lights illuminated targets at the hundred-yard mark.

  Jacob emerged from the shack and said, “Let’s go. Bring everything you’d need for a call-out. Let’s move.”

  Kathryn grabbed a large camo bag holding the rest of her gear and joined Jacob. There was a worn area in the grass and weeds just beyond the shed where people obviously laid to shoot. It was some other type of range, but a range nonetheless.

  “Okay, fire it up. I need you to shoot a cold barrel shot at target one on the left and a three-round group at target two on the right. Clear?”

  “No, not clear. You want me to shoot after I’ve been drinking? Isn’t there a policy about—”

  “Fuck policy. You say you’re okay to drive and only feel a little buzzed. You need to shoot.”

  Kathryn, thinking she had latched on to the point of all of this, said, “No. I’ve had a beer. I won’t do it.”

  She sat her bag and her rifle case down on the ground and folded her arms.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “What? You’re trying to check my ethics or something? I’m not shooting. I’ve had a beer. That’s all there is to it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  Jacob leaned back into the shed and the lights went out at the other end. He locked the padlock on the shed.

  “I’ll tell Cowell tomorrow, and you’ll go back to entry team or off SWAT completely based on his decision.” He walked by her. “We’re done here, you can go.”

  “Whoa, whoa! What the fuck? I’m out? Just like that? You fucking asshole. You set me up. You are not going to bully me into doing something I know isn’t right.”

  “No bullying here. I can’t use you.”

  “Why not?! ’Cause I’m not willing to risk my career on your bullshit?”

  “It’s not bullshit, and fran
kly, I’m disappointed. I actually thought you were coming right along, but you clearly have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. So I need to move on to a new trainee.”

  She darted around him and stood in front of him. He just stared at her. She snatched his truck keys from his hand, then pitched them into the darkened field.

  “You will talk to me. What is going on here? You’re married and invite me out for a drink? On a date? And you question my ethics?”

  “Jesus. I didn’t mean it was a ‘date’ date. It’s just a phrase. I’m sorry you thought otherwise.”

  Now she was infuriated and embarrassed, blushing wildly.

  “Now, if you wouldn’t mind retrieving my keys.”

  “I do mind. What is this? What is going on here?”

  Jacob sighed.

  “When you drink, how much do you drink? A beer a night? Two?”

  “You asshole. I hardly drink at all and usually it’s only one beer or one glass of wine. Okay?”

  “Okay. You feel buzzed now from the beer?”

  “I told you, just a little. But it’s mostly eclipsed by anger.”

  “So, if we had a call-out right now, this second, would you respond to the alert?”

  “Of course I would.”

  “Then don’t you think you ought to at least see how well you shoot when you’ve had some alcohol? Or were you planning on never drinking again?”

  She just stared at him, uncertain. It took a minute, but the shoe finally dropped. Kathryn realized what he was teaching her. The “date.” Him making sure she had alcohol in her system.

  “I get it.”

  “If you do this, you have to commit to it as a lifestyle. You have to learn your limits with alcohol, sleep deprivation, freezing temperatures, being sick, all of it. And you have to live within those limits every moment of every day. Otherwise, you might as well go back to patrol where you clock in and clock out and your free time is yours to do with whatever you want.”

  Kathryn’s shoulders sagged under the weight of this unforeseen commitment. She looked away as she absorbed what he was saying.

  “It’s twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five on my side of the fence. There is no ‘off’ time. You have to learn your limits and behave accordingly. I wanted you just a little buzzed. Most cops will admit to at least one beer at the end of their shift. So you need to see if you can still perform and how well you perform under those circumstances.”