“So you’ll come stay with me?” Jovina asked.
“I’m still not sure it’s a good idea, Jovi,” Cat said.
Jovina shivered at the endearing nickname again, Cat noticed the shiver and canted her head.
“Guess no one calls you that anymore?” Cat said.
“No one’s ever called me that but you,” Jovina answered.
Cat didn’t respond, simply leaning in to kiss her lips gently, pulling back she looked down at Jovina again.
“Okay, I’ll come stay with you,” she said softly.
“Great!” Jovina said, smiling.
CHAPTER 3
Zoey followed Jericho out to the parking garage, no longer surprised by the car that Jericho drove. She’d expected someone like the Director of the most well-known law enforcement agency in the country to drive a Mercedes, or a Cadillac Escalade. She realized early on that it was almost impossible to figure out what Jericho Tehrani would do, she was highly unpredictable. After leaving Zoey’s little Geo Metro that was ten years old on the street, the car they climbed into to go to the office was no less than a brand new Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat. The car was red, with the complete trim package, including the interior seats that were black and red leather. The car resembled the modern equivalent of a classic muscle car. The car sported a 707 horsepower engine, and Jericho thoroughly enjoyed letting the horses run when she got the chance.
On this particular day, they were leaving the office after a particularly rough day that had started for Jericho at 5AM with a phone call of a use of force incident. The rest of the day had been spent running down the reports, making sure that the shoot was evaluated and the officer’s statement taken. There had been a million other things to deal with as well. Jericho finally shouldered her gear bag at 7 PM that night. She’d previously offered to have an officer drive Zoey back to the house to get her car, but Zoey had staunchly refused. Jericho hadn’t taken the time to hire an executive assistant; she only had a secretary who probably started with the department about the time that Jericho had been born. Zoey felt that she needed to help Jericho out by acting as her assistant as she shadowed her. She found herself needing to help the Director as much as possible.
On this day, Jericho was dressed casually, as she often was, wearing opaque black jeans and a light blue button down shirt. On her feet she wore, what Zoey had come to learn was her standard, black cowboy boots. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, Zoey had yet to see Jericho with her hair down, she wondered if she ever wore it down. Over the blue shirt, Jericho wore her Division of Law Enforcement windbreaker. She was far from a fussy dresser. Also, ever present, was the gun in the black leather shoulder holster. With her gold badge clipped to her belt.
Walking out of the office, Jericho opened all doors for Zoey, another thing that Zoey had learned about Jericho was that she was always a chivalrous opening doors and the like. As they walked through the parking garage toward the car, Jericho sighed heavily.
“I’m dusted,” she said, shaking her head.
“Well, yeah,” Zoey glowered, “you started this morning at o–dark thirty, from the sounds of it. Even you get tired.”
They’d reached the Challenger by that time, Jericho had popped the trunk to drop her gear bag inside. Zoey suddenly realized that the Director was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Even me?” Jericho queried an amused smile on her lips.
Zoey looked back at her, having learned not to vacillate with the Director, if she said something she’d better be able to back it up.
“You always seem to have endless stores of energy,” Zoey said, her look direct.
Jericho grinned, noting the look, the girl was definitely learning and quickly too. She found that she really liked Zoey, even if she was a bit naïve and far too trendy at times.
One day they’d been discussing a type of car, and Zoey had stated that her ex-girlfriend had this or that, and later said something about her ex-boyfriend. Jericho had felt the need to ask at that point.
“So, I take it you’re bi-sexual?” Jericho had asked.
Zoey had looked back over at the Director and had said, “I like to consider myself gender fluid.”
Jericho had stared back at the girl for so long that the light had changed and the car behind then had honked. Blinking a few time, Jericho had shaken her head.
“What in the hell does that mean?” she’d asked.
“I don’t like labels,” Zoey had replied.
“And you think a term like ‘gender fluid’ isn’t a label?” Jericho had queried with the ever raised eyebrow when something was perplexing or ridiculous.
Zoey had been taken aback by the question, and had stammered, that had been the day that she’d learned to be careful about how she answered the Director’s questions.
As they got into the Challenger, her phone rang. Glancing at the display Jericho sighed, it was Kelly. Whereas Jericho seemed very controlled, she also had moments where she surprised Zoey with her changeable mood. Over the week they’d been working together, Zoey had seen that Jericho was for the most part amiable. The one area her mood could go from zero to 100 in a split second was when it pertained to Kelly, Jericho had a hair trigger when it came to her absent wife.
Opening Zoey’s door for her, Jericho reached up putting her Bluetooth earpiece in.
“Yes?” she answered, her voice sounding as exhausted as she looked.
Zoey could only hear Jericho’s side of the conversation, but she found herself gritting her teeth all the while.
“She what?” Jericho queried, as she backed out of her parking space, checking her mirrors as she did, “okay,” she said then, nodding, “So she got a ticket,” she said, shrugging as she drove down the ramp to get out of the parking garage, “How fast was she going?” she asked then, then snickered at the answer, “Right, cause she always goes the speed limit,” Jericho said, rolling her eyes, even as she looked to the right to enter the one way street leaving the garage, “How fast was she really going?’ she asked, leaning back in her seat as she drove with one hand on the wheel and the other up on the driver’s side door, leaning her head on her hand. “Well, yeah, she was 20 over the limit, they can impound her car.” She said, nodding.
There was silence on her end, as Kelly apparently found this answer unacceptable. At a red light, Jericho closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the effects of the day starting to catch up on her. The last thing she felt like doing at that point was listen to the story of how a mean asshole of a patrol cop had pulled Sally over, and not only given her a ticket, but also a lecture about speeding.
“Kell,” Jericho said, finally having to interrupt the story, her patience very nearly at an end, “I don’t have any influence on local PD in El Paso.”
In the passenger seat, Zoey gripped the door handle of the car, annoyed beyond belief that Kelly didn’t seem to notice that Jericho was exhausted and on top of that, she wanted her to fix a ticket? Seriously?
At the next light, Jericho dropped her head back against the headrest, rolling it back and forth in exasperation.
“Fine, Kell, fine,” she said finally, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Zoey expected to hear the acceptance of effusive thanks at that point, instead Jericho blew her breath out, as apparently Kelly piled on the requests.
“Okay, yeah,” Jericho said, her voice toneless. “Anything else?” she asked.
Zoey glanced over at Jericho’s face as apparently Kelly had nothing else to say, she saw the flicker of pain cross her features, as she nodded at her end.
“Okay,” Jericho said, then, “Bye.” With that she hit the hang up button on the Bluetooth.
Reaching over she turned on the stereo, music blasted from the speakers. Jericho hit the skip button a couple of times to forward the songs on the iPod. Stopping at Adele’s Turning Tables, then proceeded to sing every word of the song. It was the first time Zoey had really seen how much emotional pain the Director was in over her w
ife leaving. The words to the song seemed to be an anthem to her pain, the first few versus seemed to say it all to Zoey.
“Close enough to start a war
All that I have is on the floor
God only knows what we're fighting for
All that I say, you always say more
I can't keep up with your turning tables
Under your thumb, I can't breathe
So I won't let you close enough to hurt me
No, I won't ask you, you to just desert me
I can't give you what you think you gave me
It's time to say goodbye to turning tables, to turning tables…”
The silence in the car when the song ended was almost deafening. Zoey knew she’d always remember the devastated look on Jericho’s face. She hid her pain so well, that Zoey really thought she was okay with the situation. That, apparently, was not the case.
They made most of the rest of the drive in silence, Jericho had allowed the iPod to continue playing music, but it was kept low. Zoey continually glanced over at the Director to make sure she was okay. When they got to the house, Zoey got out of the car in the garage and turned to go into the house. Jericho got her gear bag out of the trunk, giving her an odd look.
“Uh,” Jericho said, looking at her like she’d lost her mind. “Don’t you mean to go that way?” she said, pointing out of the garage to the street.
“Nope,” Zoey said, shaking her head, “I’m going inside to make you some dinner.”
“I can make myself dinner, you know,” Jericho said, leaning a hip against the Harley Davidson that also sat in her garage.
“Really?” Zoey said, her look quizzical, “What would you make?”
Jericho looked back at her for a long moment, then a slow grin spread on her lips.
“Yeah, you don’t know, do you?” Zoey said, putting her hands on her hips sassily.
“Uh,” Jericho stammered.
“Exactly!” Zoey said, turning back toward the door to the house.
“Hold up!” Jericho said, “Alarm…” she explained as she moved past her to open the door and disarm the house alarm system.
Inside, Zoey turned to Jericho, pointing toward the back of the house where the bedrooms were.
“You go do your thing,” she said, gesturing toward the bedroom, “I’ll get dinner going for you.”
Jericho stood looking down at her, “You do realize you don’t work for me, right?” she asked with a grin.
Zoey smiled up at her, “I also realize that if I don’t make you dinner, you won’t eat anything,” she said, having the temerity to poke Jericho in the ribs, causing the Director to jump slightly laughing “And you’re probably under-weight now.”
“Are you mothering me?” Jericho asked, her blue eyes softening slightly.
“No,” Zoey countered, “I’m just trying to keep you alive long enough to write my dissertation.”
Jericho laughed, shaking her head as she walked down the hallway. Zoey made them dinner that night and they ate companionably. By the time they’d finished, however, it was obvious Jericho was half asleep. Zoey guided her down to her bedroom and then left assuring her that she’d arm the alarm.
A few days later, Jericho had yet another call from Kelly, but this one went far differently than the last call had. They were driving over to the AG’s offices to meet with one of the Deputy’s Attorney General and Zoey was trying to help Jericho set up the Bluetooth in her car so she didn’t need to use the earpiece. She had Jericho’s iPhone in her hand when it rang. She looked at the display and glanced over at Jericho.
“Who is it?” Jericho asked, keeping her eyes on the road, traffic, as usual in Los Angeles, was heavy.
“Um,” Zoey stammered, “It’s Kelly.”
“Oh and good morning…” Jericho muttered, putting her earpiece in so she could answer the phone, nodding to Zoey to go ahead and hit answer on the phone.
“Yes?” Jericho answered, her blue eyes staring straight ahead as she listened to whatever Kelly was saying. Almost immediately she started rolling her eyes, every call was about money, it was becoming a litany. “Kell, you knew she had allergies in El Paso,” she said shaking her head as she did, “Yeah, well, you also knew that we were paying a fortune for the meds.” She listened again, making a snorting sound, “Oh, okay, so you never paid attention to that?” she said, her tone becoming annoyed, it never took long these days. “Well,” she said, her tone matter of fact, “If you’d thought about that before you took my dog,” she said, her eyes flashing in anger, “You might have realized that before you got her all the way there.”
There was a long pause where Kelly was obviously talking endlessly. Jericho’s knee was bouncing in agitation before long, but she didn’t say anything, obviously letting Kelly talk herself out.
“Again,” Jericho said, her tone calm, even as her eyes flashed angrily still, “Had you even talked to me about taking Riley with you, I could have reminded you about her allergies and how much the meds cost every month.” Kelly said something else then and Jericho shook her head, “Okay, you’re not hearing me,” she said, her tone sharp to cut through whatever Kelly was saying, “You took the dog, you obviously wanted the dog, and now you need to pay for the dogs’ meds, that’s it.”
Jericho rolled her eyes, “It’s not my cop tone, Kelly, it’s how I talk,” she said then, glancing over at Zoey who grimaced. “Okay, well I gotta go, I need to find parking in downtown friggin LA.” With that, she hung up the phone.
“Un fucking real!” she yelled the moment she disconnected the phone.
“She didn’t realize that Riley needed allergy meds in El Paso?” Zoey surmised.
“No,” Jericho said, “Apparently it never even occurred to her, and no she had no idea that we paid that kind of money for those meds…” her voice trailed off as she shook her head disbelievingly. “She just has no grounds in reality.”
“It does sound like that,” Zoey agreed, not wanting to speak badly of Jericho’s wife, but she hadn’t heard anything positive about the woman yet.
A few minutes later they were walking into the office of the Attorney General. An hour later they left, walking back to the car. No sooner had Jericho pulled the car out into traffic did her phone ring again, once again it was Kelly. Putting her earpiece back into her ear, Jericho hit the answer button.
“Yes?” she answered, her tone sharper this time, unable to believe that she was getting yet another call inside of two hours. She listened, and then her mouth dropped open in shock, “You’re going to fucking what!?” she yelled, her voice strident, “No, Kelly, no you’re not, I swear to God I’ll come there myself and wring your fucking neck if you even think it again!” she hollered, “No! I don’t have to fucking hear you out, you’re not going to do it, what you are going to do is give me my fucking dog back!”
Zoey was watching Jericho wondering if it was safe for her to be driving at that point. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she’d never seen Jericho mad, and to say she was at that point would be an understatement, she was furious. Zoey had to admit, it was gratifying to see and hear Jericho lose it at the woman who’d hurt her so much. She wanted to shout, ‘It’s about time!’
“Kell, listen…” Jericho said, her tone calmer now, “Kelly,” she repeated, “Kelly will you–” she said again, her voice louder this time. It seemed that Kelly kept cutting her off. Zoey could see Jericho’s eyes narrowing, and that was never a good sign in Zoey’s experience.
“Will you fucking shut up for a minute and listen to me?” Jericho finally snapped in utter exasperation. “I will pay the vet for the dose she needs right now,” she said, her lips twitching as Kelly tried to interrupt again, “And I will arrange for her to come back here.”
There was a burst of sound on the phone, and Zoey was fairly sure it was Kelly doing some yelling of her own. The woman did have a backbone, too bad it was being used to be incredibly stupid and selfish.
Jericho’s lips ti
ghtened as she did her best to hold onto her temper, “Just text me the vet’s information, I will pay him directly,” she said, her tone all Director at the moment, “And you will be handing my dog over to whoever I send to get her, do you understand me?” There was a momentary pause, and Jericho’s eyes narrowed again, then Kelly must have agreed, because Jericho was nodding again.
By the time Jericho hung up, Zoey was shaking her head.
“What?” Jericho asked, seeing the shake of her head.
“What was she going to do?” Zoey asked.
“She was going to have Riley put out of her misery,” Jericho said, looking physically sick as she said it.
“Oh my God!” Zoey, having suspected that was the case, “What is wrong with that woman?” she asked then.
Jericho grinned, “The funny thing is, everyone always thought she was the sweet one.”
“Were they deaf, dumb and blind?” Zoey asked, making a face.
Jericho laughed out loud at that she had to admit it was nice to have someone who was so obviously on her side.
Jovina opened the door to her second bedroom as quietly possible; even so, she saw Cat’s eyes blink open instantly. Cat was lying on her stomach on the bed, her arms around the pillow, Jovina noted that the white sheet only covered her lower half and the upper half of her body was naked. Walking over to the side of the bed, Jovina sat down, unable to avoid the urge to lean down and kiss a bare shoulder, noting the corresponding wound from the gunshot on the front of Cat’s shoulder.
She gently touched the spot. “It went all the way through?” she asked.
Cat turned over, pulling the sheet up as she did, “Yeah, thankfully.”
“Why thankfully?” Jovina asked.
“Because half the time there’s a lot more damage if there’s a bullet to remove.”
Jovina nodded, her eyes widening slightly. It seemed to her that Cat knew way too much about things like this. She was far from the happy wild child she’d been back in their younger days. It wasn’t that Jovina didn’t like the way Cat was now, but it was definitely different from what she remembered.
Turning Tables (WeHo Book 3) Page 5