This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Serena J. Bishop
www.serenajbishop.com
Second Edition published 2018
Cover design by May Dawney Designs
covers.maydawney.com
All rights reserved.
To my wife.
I think there’s something you should know
I think it’s time I told you so
There’s something deep inside of me
There’s someone else I’ve got to be
- George Michael, “Freedom ’90”
SEPTEMBER 2014: MEET STEVIE
STEVIE PACED ANXIOUSLY AROUND THE sunny Chesapeake Bay University campus as he waited for Bradyn to emerge from her Calculus II class. He hated math with a passion, always had, but he loved that he had a girlfriend who understood it—especially one as beautiful as she. She was tall, athletic, and every inch of her was covered in smooth, dark skin.
Stevie hit the jackpot with Bradyn.
In his nineteen years on Earth, he never had an issue finding dates. He knew this was because he was taught how to treat a lady. He also knew that a consequence of not treating a woman with respect were multiple ass kickings from a variety of different people.
Of course, Stevie’s looks didn’t hurt when he tried to capture the attention of females. He had his father’s 6’4” frame and lean musculature that aided him on the baseball team. He towered over batters when he stood on the pitcher’s mound and his long strides covered the bases quickly. He inherited his mother’s strong jaw and focused green eyes, which were helping him succeed as a double major in International Relations and History. His eyes were even more striking because they were paired with his warm, light brown skin; a genetic compromise between his white mother and black father. But despite his chiseled features, Stevie had an endearing, boyish dimple when he smiled. His godmother insisted that God wanted him to have at least one trait that was hers alone.
By most definitions, Steven Gino Fields was a stud. And on this particular sunny afternoon, he was also terrified.
So terrified, in fact, that when a gentle hand was placed on his upper arm from behind, he jumped with a squeal. “You scared me,” he said with an embarrassed smile as he leaned down to kiss his attacker.
“I know I did. That’s why it’s so funny.” Bradyn chuckled and gave him another chaste kiss before rubbing his rough chin with her thumb and forefinger. “You’re really trying to grow a goatee, huh?”
“I don’t have to try,” he scoffed confidently. Stevie had started shaving when he was fifteen. “Besides, I told my godfather I’d grow one like his.”
“I see.” Bradyn grasped the hand he held out for her. He began to swing their hands in a gentle rhythm as they walked through the grass.
“You know...I was trying to be sweet and surprise you after class, but it seemed to backfire on me. You’re done for the day, right?”
“Yep–although, I do need to work on my lab assignment that’s due tomorrow. I’m guessing you wanted to do something?”
Stevie took a deep breath. What he wanted to talk about was huge and explained the goatee. “Well, I was hoping we could have dinner off campus and talk.”
Bradyn stopped in her tracks and narrowed her brown eyes in accusation. “You better not be breaking up with me. I was just telling my Mom and Dad how good you are.”
“No! There’s no breaking! Absolutely not.” There was no way he was breaking up with her. Aside from being intelligent and gorgeous, Bradyn loved sports, shared his obsession with video games, and had gotten the seal of approval from his best friend, Devin.
He led her over to a shaded bench to sit and rubbed his hands on his cargo shorts to remove his anxiety-fueled perspiration. “I just want to talk privately. I want to ask you something and it’s kind of a big deal and something I haven’t really given you the details about yet.”
“Oh,” she crossed her long, dark legs at the knee and tossed many of her tight braids behind her shoulder, “what kind of details?”
“I’d like you to be my date to a wedding I’m in next month.”
Bradyn’s smile lit up the quad. To be the date of someone in a wedding party was a huge deal. “Of course, Stevie. I’d love to be your date.” The soft kiss following her acceptance made his tense muscles relax instantly. “Is the wedding nearby?”
“It’s a just a couple hours away, back home near Harrisburg. But I want you to know before you go that it’s kind of an unconventional wedding since I come from a rather unconventional family.”
“Stevie,” she tried not to roll her eyes at him. He could be such a drama queen sometimes. “I know your mom’s white. It’s no big deal and my parents don’t care either.”
“Well, that’s good, but that’s not what I was going to say. It’s my Mom and Dad who are getting married—”
“Oh my God, they got back together after the divorce. When?” she asked with excitement. Stevie had shared with her that his parents had gotten divorced when he was twelve, but had still lived in the same house, which she found truly bizarre.
Stevie shook his head. She had the completely wrong idea, but if he had to be honest with himself, most people would. “It’s a really long story.”
“And you want to tell me the story over dinner?”
Stevie patted Bradyn’s hand. “That’s my plan.”
DECEMBER 1990
OFFICER GINA DICARLO’S SPRINTING STEPS echoed through the dim alley and into the open street beyond. She rushed through the narrow Harrisburg passage, her arms and legs pumping. Her agile feet dodged shallow puddles and broken bottles as she focused on the alley’s tight exit and prepared to surprise her perpetrator. Gina accelerated, her adrenaline giving her a burst of speed she did not know she possessed as she saw a shadow slowly come into her view.
“Police! Stop and raise your hands in the air!” she yelled, not quite out of breath. When the shadow did as instructed, she slowed and decided a little repartee with her criminal was in order. “Thought you could run away, you little—Dammit, Steven!”
“Sorry, to disappoint you,” said the tall, black man in the matching police issue uniform. “Am I safe to put my hands down, officer?”
“Shut up. Where did they go?” Gina asked exasperated, scanning the area for the two vandals who were destructing public property.
“I have no idea.” Hands on his thighs, Steven caught his breath. “How are you faster than me? My legs are longer.”
Gina leaned down to mock her partner and best friend. Her deep-set brown eyes looked into his even darker ones. “Aw, did the Marine get bested by the Army? Again?”
“I will kick your Italian ass at pull-ups.”
“Racist,” she said with a slight smirk pulling at her lips.
Steven loved bantering this way with her. He smiled and took in the scene a second time. “I say, they either went up one of the fire escapes or busted through the fence over there.”
Gina inspected the soft ground nearest to the rusty chain link fence while doing the tongue clicks she was prone to while searching for something. “I don’t see any footprints. Fire escape is my guess. Want to call it in?” Steven cocked his head at her, annoyed. “What? I called in the last one.”
“I always call in the ones we lose!” he pointed out.
“That’s not my fault! You’ve let your physical training slide.” She pointed, “I see that you’re still huffing and puffing over there, Mr. Semper Fi Pull-Up.”
“Fine. I’ll call it.” He pressed his shoulder radio
. “Dispatch. Officer Fields, here.”
“Dispatch, here. What’s up, Fields?” asked the disembodied voice with a mild crackle.
“Suspects were lost in foot pursuit. Officer DiCarlo spooked them before we could apprehend.” Gina raised her hands in disbelief while her partner threw her under the bus.
“Put it in the report, Fields. Are you in the vicinity of nine-hundred block of Penn?” asked the dispatcher.
“Yeah. Mostly,” he confirmed, as both he and Gina felt raindrops. It had been cold and raining all day intermittently .
“Can you get a disturbing the peace at nine-twenty-eight Penn, apartment 1A?”
“Yeah, we got it. Out.” Steven motioned with his head, “Come on DiCarlo, the Affirmative Action Duo has more citizens to rescue.”
Gina walked with him down the rainy street back to the squad car. “You know, I really hate that nickname.”
“It’s what everyone else calls us, might as well use it to show them it doesn’t bother us.”
“But it does bother us. And it’s not everyone, it’s Underwood.” But, despite being annoyed by the name, she smiled slightly. “Thank God, I actually like you. But if the brass knew that, then they’d probably split us up.”
Steven had been with the police department for three years before Gina finished training and they were assigned to be partners. They both had similar paths and obstacles to overcome, which made them understand each other in ways others never could. Steven, despite being an All-Star high school athlete and former Marine, still had to endure racism on a daily basis. Gina served in the Army as a translator and faced sexism when she joined the department despite having the highest scores of her police class. Steven and Gina both understood hard work as much as they did hardship.
“And if they split us up then who would rescue the High Street sign from being stolen again?”
“Not the Affirmative Action Duo.” She opened the door to the patrol car. “Let’s go get these peace disturbers.”
***
Gina pressed the buzzer for apartment 1A. “I don’t hear much of a disturbance going around here, do you?”
Steven checked the perimeter. There were no consistent loud noises or evidence that there had been—no broken bottles or firework fumes. “Nah. Only thing disturbing me is the rain, which I’d like to get out of soon.”
“Who is it?” the 1A resident demanded, her voice full of static as it came out of the speaker.
Gina leaned closer to the wall. “Ma’am, did you call the police?”
“It’s about damn time. I’ll be right there.”
Steven and Gina waited, subconsciously huddling together for warmth as they waited to be allowed in. Independently, they surveyed the building. The exterior had clean brick. The windows weren’t barred and had neatly painted trim. In the non-winter months, there would have been a maple tree and several flowerbeds with blossoms in the front yard. In short, it was a pleasant looking place. But looks could be deceiving.
“I really hope this isn’t another domestic,” mumbled Gina.
“Don’t even say it. I still can’t believe we had to testify in court last week, but I’m glad that rich, abusive bastard got his comeuppance. That DA was a shark.”
“She sure was.” Through the glass, Gina saw a woman come towards them wearing a sneer along with slippers and a robe. “Showtime.”
The disgruntled woman unlocked the door. “What took you so long?” She gave Steven an especially unpleasant eye.
“We’re sorry you had to wait, ma’am,” Gina stated evenly. “May Officer Fields and myself come in?”
“I suppose you’ll need to in order to deal with the situation.” She stepped aside to allow them into the mail area.
“Thank you. What is the situation, exactly?” asked Steven in his nicest tone.
The perturbed woman crossed her arms. “That Mullins girl is having another one of her parties and it is almost ten o’clock at night. The quiet hours for this building start at nine. I called the super and he said to call the police if it was bothering me this much. So, I called...twenty minutes ago. What if I had been shot when I confronted her?”
Gina’s eyes went on alert, her stance tensed. “Shot? She has a weapon?”
“I don’t know. She could. I called her on the phone and told her to knock off the racket, which she most certainly did not.”
“Okay, ma’am. Officer DiCarlo and I will take care of the situation. What apartment is this Mullins woman in?”
“Apartment 2A, the apartment right above me. And her name is Veronica Mullins.” As an afterthought, she added, “I should have known she was no good the first time I met her. I got her mail by accident. You can tell a lot by someone’s mail.”
As they ascended the flight of steps, Gina asked, “I wonder what kind of mail this Mullins woman gets? And I still don’t hear any disturbances.” On cue, a boisterous laugh could be heard coming from the offender’s apartment.
“There it is,” Steven commented and knocked on the door. The laughter on the other side of the door stopped and the floorboards creaked as someone approached and stopped to look through the peephole.
Muffled through the door, Gina and Steven heard a female voice say, “Guys, shut up. It’s the police.” The occupant unchained, unbolted, and unlocked the door before opening it fully. “Hello, officers. I didn’t call the police. Is everything okay?”
Gina was too distracted by the bright green eyes and soft wavy, blond hair of the woman who had opened the door to answer the question. Steven, however, was not distracted. “Ms. Veronica Mullins?”
She nodded with an uncomfortable smile. “That’s me.”
“There was a disturbing the peace call made in regard to this address. Do you mind explaining what is going on here?” Behind Veronica, five other women were sitting in a circle. In the center of the circle were three bottles of wine and multiple copies of the novel Misery.
“Oh...Um...Why don’t you two,” Veronica read their name tags, “Officer DiCarlo and Fields come in and I’ll explain. It’s really pretty funny, actually.”
Gina crossed the threshold. “Thank you, Ms. Mullins, but—”
“Roni.”
“Come again?” asked Gina, as Steven stepped in behind her.
“Please, call me Roni.”
“Roni.” Gina liked that name more anyway. And she really liked that now since she was inside the apartment, she could appreciate all of her. Roni was trim with exceptionally shapely legs. Gina shifted her focus and cleared her throat. “There was a complaint lodged that you were violating your building’s quiet hours.”
Roni shook her head, annoyed yet amused. “It was Mrs. Fitzgerald, wasn’t it? The lady downstairs? She just doesn’t like me for some reason.” Roni turned to one of the women seated in the circle. “I told you this would happen, Sarah.”
“We’d rather not say who called in the complaint,” stated Steven, keeping his intimidating appearance in check. He was almost a full foot taller than Roni and used his height to scan everyone and everything in the apartment.
“Well, I’m very, very sorry you were called in for this. Normally we,” Roni gestured to the all-female group, “meet on the first Thursday of every month, but the holiday concert screwed up our schedule. Usually, this isn’t a problem because we meet when Mrs. Fitzgerald is out of her apartment for choir practice.”
“Holiday concert? You’re in a band?” asked Gina.
Roni laughed musically. “Oh no! We’re elementary school teachers and this is our book club.”
Steven turned his back and rolled his eyes. Gina, on the other hand, had a different reaction. “Book club?” she asked with delight and pointed to the copies of the novel on the coffee table. “You’re discussing Misery? I loved that book! I thought it had so much more depth compared to most of King’s other work...or at least the books of his that I’ve read.”
Roni smiled broadly at Gina, an act that softened her square jaw. “That’s what
we were talking about! Well, that and how creepy it would be to see a thumb in a cake. That was probably the ruckus she heard downstairs.”
“Oh, dear Jesus,” muttered Steven in the background.
“I guess book clubs aren’t his thing.” Roni winked at the female officer—she was feeling playful, especially toward anyone in uniform with gorgeous Mediterranean features. Although, finishing a bottle of wine by herself did make her bolder than usual.
Gina smiled in return. It was hard not to when a pretty girl winked at her. “No, book clubs are definitely not his thing. They’re more of my thing.”
“You should join us,” suggested one of the other members from within the circle.
“Yeah!” Roni enthusiastically agreed. “It would be great getting the perspective of someone with your experiences. The rest of us have such similar backgrounds that sometimes it prevents us from having more meaningful conversations. Do you work Thursdays?”
“Not second shift, at least. Are you serious? You’d invite me into your club?”
“Yeah! It’ll be great. Next month is...” Roni snapped her fingers as she tried to remember. The wine might have been fun, but clouded her memory. “Help me out, Sarah.”
“Clan of the Cave Bear,” Sarah mumbled around a thumb-less piece of cake.
Roni grimaced. “That’s right. Historical fiction isn’t my favorite, but what are you going to do?” she asked rhetorically. “Still interested in coming?”
“Absolutely.” Gina watched as Roni went to the nearby desk and wrote on her Penn State stationary. “My resolution for next year is that I’m going to be more social and this is a great way to start.”
“It really would be.” Roni finished writing and handed Gina a slip of paper. “That’s the date and time of when we meet along with my phone number, in case you have any questions.”
“Thank you.” Gina graciously accepted the note. She also appreciated the accidental graze of Roni’s thumb that had slid over her finger. “I don’t think there will be a problem, but it’s good to have, just in case.” She peered over her shoulder to her partner. She could tell he hated every second of the past few minutes. “Officer Fields, I think the situation is taken care of.”
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