by Coulton, JC
Ryan is silent on the phone. I start to worry that he may know more. He says, “Don’t feel bad. I’ve seen worse shit happen. Talk to our PBA rep. They’ve seen it all. They can fix this.”
“Yeah man. That’s what Jacob said. Twice. She told me this was why I was suspended with pay until further notice. The Police Benevolent Association still has to be notified.”
“Well that’s good.”
“Not really, Ryan. It’s not looking good. I thought I’d tap in to Neon’s sources for some info on the April Lee case. I think the FBI old Jacob I was up there a suspect.”
“Buddy! This is bad news. So what’s the official line on how long you’re out for?”
“No idea. It’s pending an investigation.”
At that he is silent. We both seem to consider the consequences. It’s not good.
“Have you heard anything more on your end?” I ask. I have to ask because I can’t see how this alone would cause me to be suspended.
“Yeah man, I heard about the suspension and there’s been more shit talk about that FBI Cooper. He’s got himself a shitty rep, that guy.”
“What for?” I’d be interested in Ryan’s opinion on Cooper.
“If anyone got you suspended, it’s him. Guy’s a shit talker. He’ll never come to your face. I hear he likes to work behind the scenes to fuck officers up. I’ve spoken to someone else who heard rumors that he’s a nark. Don’t worry, brother. I’ve been keeping my eyes open. I’m making the most of my desk assignment. Can’t even work in the lab with this wrist!”
“Shit. Sorry, buddy. I got too caught up in my own drama…what’s the story? You gonna be chained to that desk for long?”
“Maybe a month. Depends on my progress, I have to do these exercises, get massages and physio twice a week.”
“Fuck! We’re both out of action then!”
“Yeah, man. Have you told Brenda yet?”
“Not yet. She’s gonna freak. I’ve got savings, but if this takes a turn for the worse, the pressure will do us both in.”
“You two can handle it. You’ll pull through. You could do some consulting or some security work while you’re off. Hell, maybe you can work for me at the house. You’re handy, right? I’ve been meaning to get a contractor to hire out some tradespeople to redo the kitchen.”
“Thanks man. I can manage that for you, if this ends up taking more than a few days.”
“Good. I’ll get myself organized and set it up. I’ll keep an ear out here at the precinct too, just in case there’s more dirt spreading around about why you got suspended.”
“Yeah. That’ll help. If the FBI or Cooper is shutting me down, there’s not much I can do but accept it. It’s either that or get out there and prove them wrong.”
“Blake,” his voice has a warning tone. “You could be facing way worse than a suspension if you head down that road. You’ve got no gun, no badge and no authority. It’s not a good idea.”
“I’m not doing anything wrong,” I say defensively.
“Yeah but you’re planning to. I can hear it in your voice. Just try to make sure that whatever you come up with, you’ll run it by someone, okay? If you’re out there with no backup, shit could get real.”
He’s looking out for me and he’s right, but my service weapon isn’t the only one I own.
“If I go anywhere dangerous on my own, I’m not going unarmed. I’m not a fool, Ryan.”
“I know you’re not, but you are my friend, and that means I get to say this shit.”
He’s right. I need to hear this right now. It’s why I called him. He has my back. I might be driving home from a suspension meeting, and wondering why the woman I love never wants to see me again, but at least I’ve got my boy Ryan to count on. He’s solid.
Special Agent Jason Cooper, on the other hand, is a snake. Now I know not to trust him for second. He seems to be out to get me. It’s bullshit machismo stuff. He must think I’m involved with Neon and playing Carrie, if he heard us yesterday morning. It has to be something like this, something I don’t know about. He wouldn’t just make life hard for me for no reason. It doesn’t serve the FBI or Carrie, and it certainly doesn’t solve the case.
I drive for another ten minutes. The next right move is to tell Brenda and it’s about time I cook dinner. I’ve missed my night for the last couple of weeks. If I’m going to bring her bad news, I had better deliver it with some good food. The next stop is the supermarket, for that reason. The aisles are not too busy. I take my time, wandering around to plan a meal that will soften the blow. I get fresh herbs and quality meat. I even pick up her favorite ice cream. Little sister is getting the works tonight. She’s unlikely to be angry, but she will be anxious. She had a lot to deal with on her own, before I was sober. This is supposed to be my turn to be the responsible one.
Walking around makes Carrie’s absence feel more intense. A pang hits me. I want her right now. I want that feeling of knowing that there’s someone waiting at home for me. If Carrie James were here right now I’d cook every night for her. I’d hold her in my arms and make sure she’s happy. I’m feeling all this pain about Carrie. Her rejection shook me to the core. She’s shaken me off before, but this time she was really hurt. I hate thinking that I’ve hurt her. I don’t want to see the tears glisten in her eyes as she holds them back.
This place gets to be too much in my sullen mood. It’s probably not the healthiest place to be, for a lonely man who’s pretty much just lost his woman and his job. I need to leave here and have a conversation with her. If we have even a small chance of a future together, Carrie and I need to talk this out. I want to know what really happened back in high school. Why she came back from summer break like a different, super-cold person. Why there was such a sadness and secrecy. Why she works so hard and cares so much. What I did yesterday to drive her away.
I want to get inside her mind and I want to be back in her heart. I walk around the aisles but I keep missing essential items for the meal I have in mind. It’s a beef and mushroom curry that both Brenda and George love. It won’t cook itself, so I find what I need. Finally, I have everything ready to go. Even though money’s going to be tight for the next month, I spare no expense.
I get through the cashier’s line and hurry to get home. Something about it sparks a tiny seed in my mind. What if I were forced to leave the NYPD? What would I do next? Should I study, or will I end up bartending again? I haven’t considered being anything other than a cop. I thought I’d be a lifer. I’ve even imagined relaxing on my pension after twenty years of service.
Maybe there’s another life out there for me. Teaching or building businesses. Travelling, maybe. Being a cop has been everything to me. I’m sure in time, I’ll get some perspective. I always do. I’ll come up with a new plan.
Chapter Twelve
Blake
The drive home passes in a daze of hope. It’s a phrase that Mark, my sponsor would normally use. It might sound weird, but the best way to describe it is that feeling you get when you start to believe everything will be ok. Maybe I’ll leave the force, maybe I’ll study. As long as I have Brenda’s emotional support, everything will work out.
Feeling this way is rare. It doesn’t happen often for me. It also doesn’t last long. I’m going to try and make the most of it. If there’s a pre-determined plan for me—one I clearly don’t know about yet—then I’m ready to have the courage to just let it happen.
For once, traffic doesn’t dampen my mood. In the short term, this news I’m about to give to Brenda doesn’t mean any real changes for her. She’s not going to have to pick up extra shifts at the café. I don’t want her to worry. In the long term, things could change, though. For starters, she should know that I’ll be home more for now, and the future isn’t as set in stone as it once was. We share expenses on the apartment. Tonight I’ll share what I know, and hope she doesn’t freak out. My savings account is in good shape, which means nothing has to change right now.
We’
re so much better off than when we arrived in New York, I shouldn’t worry at all. We literally had nothing. This event is just a blip on the radar compared to the desperation we went through back then. This is more of a luxury problem than anything. I’m an experienced cop. I could get all sorts of other work if I wanted it.
I park the car and head up to the apartment. It would be shame to lose our apartment here. The upkeep of the building is excellent. With that thought, I have another spike of fear at the idea of losing my job. I manage to pull myself back into the moment. I’ve gotta remember this is just an investigation. I haven’t been fired yet. I don’t know what’s going to happen, so I need to pull back and stay in reality in the meantime.
The place still smells of berries and jam. Again, I’m feeling grateful for everything we have. I put some music on and start prepping the food. Cooking is one of my favorite things to do when I can take my time. Carrie likes cooking too. If she were here, I’d pour her a glass of wine. I’d let her tell me about her day. I’d ask her questions and rub her shoulders.
The more I think about her, the more I want her. These thoughts lead to stronger feelings, and the more time I spend dwelling on her, the more I crave being with her. I need Carrie. She’s real, and tough, and she treats me well. She’s the polar opposite of all the women I’ve ever dated in the past.
The food is starting to smell great when Brenda and George charge in the door. He’s laughing and talking excitedly, and Brenda is carrying his backpack. Since our ice cream date, he seems to have relaxed. It’s great to see him. I get an urge to hug the little guy but tackle him instead. He keeps telling me it’s the more manly way to say hello. Brenda sniffs the air and immediately smiles at me.
“That smells good! I’m starving.” She sounds pleased.
“Yep. As the oldest in the family, I thought it was about time to let you relax and show off my chef skills tonight.”
“Right…” she laughs skeptically. I know she appreciates my reference to her workload lately. She has been steering the ship around her; doing the majority of the housework, plus cooking way too often. I’ve let her down often. I was distracted and absent. It’s good to start making amends. She walks over and lifts the lid on the pot.
“Yum. Curry. Looks so good. Thanks Blakey.” She hasn’t called me that for years. It was the name she would call me when we were kids; usually when she was scared. We would hide from Dad together under the house. I remember she would grab some sort of weapon on our way out of the house; whether it was a can of corn or a broomstick. Thinking of that makes me respect her even more. He would have overpowered any efforts she had made at defending herself back when she was little, but she was ready to try anyway. That took guts.
George sets up the placemats and cutlery at the breakfast bar. I look into his face and at Brenda’s relaxed body language. This is my family. We’re good together. They take a seat so I can serve up the food. It smells incredible, I only hope it tastes as good. We dig in. The table is silent, everyone is eating and nodding. I smile.
“Guys, I’m glad you like it.” I must have a sense of formality in my voice because they both put their forks down as I start to speak. “I’m going to have a little more time to make dinners like these in the next little while.”
Brenda is already shaking her head in disbelief.
“Promises, promises,” she says. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“No, I’m serious. I’m taking some time off work.”
She meets my eyes with an expression that says ‘tell me more immediately!’ I think it’s best to shield George from this conversation, so I wait for us to finish dinner. She promptly tells George he can play video games—the distraction will give us some alone time—and we head up to my floor.
“What’s going on?” she asks the second she sits on the sofa.
I’m being investigated. The FBI has come in to look at the way the April Lee case was handled. You know, Carrie’s friend, the kidnapping case.”
Brenda gets the idea of how serious it is. “Well I’m glad to be in the loop early on. Are you okay?”
“Mostly, yes.”
“So what is the investigation about?” Brenda asks me.
“When Carrie first arrived at the precinct, she wasn’t processed properly. Some evidence wasn’t collected as quickly as it should have been. Also, it turns out that Neon a suspect in a few other related cases. Basically, they just need to confirm I didn’t know about her involvement, and that I did my job according to protocol.”
“How do you think it’s going to turn out?” She turns an inquisitive gaze my way.
“I don’t believe I did anything wrong. I have nothing to be ashamed of. But we all make mistakes, and maybe I’ve made one I don’t know about.”
“Were you fired?” Brenda asks.
“No, not at all. I’ve been suspended with pay. Basically, little sis, it’s a curveball. I wanted to let you know.”
“Oh, okay, thanks Blake.” She looks fondly at me, and rests an arm on my shoulder to silently tell me not to worry. I watch her closely to check out the effect my heavy news has had but nothing seems out of whack. I decide to get some alone time.
“I’m gonna head out for a run.”
She nods and says she’ll clean up because I’ve done the cooking. I grab my workout gear, and within minutes I’m out the door, warming up at a park with a walking and running path. The somewhat fresh city air feels amazing. I can’t wait for the feeling of pushing my body to the limit. Once upon a time I used to do it with alcohol. These days, when I have feelings about something, I take it out by hitting the gym or pounding the pavement.
I run past the section of park with the new skateboard ramp and basketball courts. I remind myself to bring George here one of these days while I’m off work. I start to think of all the things that are going on. First of all, there’s April. Poor April. We only met a few times back in Cedar Rapids. I can barely remember her, except for the dim picture Carrie had of them dancing at the club, and the few photos she had posted with her dogs on Facebook. She was Carrie’s friend, but I can’t help the feeling of dread that something terrible has happened to her.
Then there’s this investigation. I have no clue how it’s going to turn out. The truth is I knew Erica was up to no good, but I still don’t know why she might have been under surveillance last night. Approaching her about April was supposed to be a good idea. I thought she could listen out about what was happening on the streets. I meant to help the case, turn her into a CI and make the most of our old connection. But there has to be more, if the FBI is watching her. And why did she tell Carrie she’d hurt April? I’m still confused about that; unless Neon knows way more than she’s letting one. Coming to think about it, Jessup had said something similar about her. I should really go find her again.
Then there’s Carrie. I’m crushed that she doesn’t want to talk or let me explain anything. If only she’d give me two minutes on the phone—or better yet, in person—I could convince her. The connection we have is special. It’s worth saving. Surely she can see that too.
I run for a little longer. The steady rhythm of my feet on the pavement keeps me company. Except for dinner, it’s been a shitty day. It doesn’t have to get any worse. I start to make my way down a residential block of homes. People are at their evening routines. Pulling their garbage cans inside and walking their dogs.
A loud motorcycle approaches from the other direction. A couple jumps off it and start walking my way. She pulls up her helmet and goes to say something to the guy. They’re in the middle of the footpath. He looks at her and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. Something about this interaction makes up my mind for me. We all need to be held, even when we don’t know it. Carrie James may not want to talk to me, but I’m going to make her. She needs to hear how I feel, once and for all. I’m going to find her tonight, and make that happen.
Chapter Thirteen
Blake
&n
bsp; I get back up to the apartment. Everything is clean again. All the pots and pans are hanging neatly. The place is quiet. This is what a home looks like. Carrie should be here right now. Winding down with me, watching a movie, getting ready for bed. When we’re together, we’re a good couple. I love her, and I care about her. That’s why I did all this, putting aside the rules and ignoring her request to leave her alone. Sometimes a woman needs to be chased. Carrie needs to know how much she matters to me. This is one of those times.
I’m determined and ready. I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m sure of my feelings. More sure than I’ve ever been. I’ve been running from intimacy for too long. At first, it was because I didn’t know myself. And I didn’t recognize she was the one until she slipped away in high school. And now I did it again! It was also the case and my ego, at being usurped by Jason. Now I have a chance to put that right. I can turn our first hug on the track field all those years ago into what it should have been—something incredible.
I take a quick shower and dress in a shirt she likes. I already know these things about her. Those little things—like the way she brushes her hair really fast, and the way she likes her eggs. Everything is incredibly clear to me. I take my laptop and head to the car. It’s getting colder at night. There’s no one else around. The car engine comes to life quietly and I reverse it, before pulling smoothly out and up to the street. I’m going to Carrie’s hotel and I’ll wait there until she’ll see me. That’s it. If she refuses to see me, I’ll start with the flowers. After that, I’ll send chocolate. It’s on.
I pull up at hotel and this time I head down to their underground parking. Convincing her could take some time. I don’t want to piss off the valet guys. Instead of taking the elevator to her floor, I walk outside to get her coffee and some flowers. I’m better to lead with something strong. There’s usually a street vendor selling flowers about half a block or so away. I get there and order a combination of exotic blooms I’m sure she’ll love.