by D. Morrissey
Full of warm, earthy colors, it’s my meditation spot, where I go to pull my thoughts together. I have shelves full of almost every book I’ve ever read—I still like a real book that I can hold in my hand. I also have my desk, my laptop, and my thinking chair, which may be old and ratty, but it’s where I hatch my best ideas.
“Those are your parents?” He walks over to my desk and picks up my favorite family photo. I was eleven years old, not long before they died. We had gone to the fair and my father had one of the carnies take our picture in front of the Ferris wheel.
“Yes. That’s my mom and dad,” I say proudly.
He puts it down and picks up another one. “And this?”
“That’s my Pops, my mom’s dad. He died last year.” He stares at for a moment and then replaces it, picking up the next one.
“These are your friends Rachael and Misty?”
It seems strange to me that he knows them by name. Then I remember my file and the police report I filed.
“Yes. We went skiing at Angel Fire a couple of years ago.” The picture is of the three of us, skis on our feet in front of a huge fire place, our arms around each other as we hold up our ski poles and smile like idiots. He looks at it closely for a few seconds, which is fine with me since it’s one of the few pictures of me that I really like. Then he puts it down, scouring my room for more clues into the mystery of my psyche. Or psychoses.
“Those are yours, too?” He points excitedly to the ugliest spot in the room, the corner where I keep my work boots and my hard hat.
“Um. Yes.”
“Put them on for me.” He dons his wicked grin.
“Cal! No.” I roll my eyes. “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”
“We have time.”
I smile and shake my head.
“So, bring these when you come over tomorrow. After we play sex-a-tary and demanding boss, I want to play sexy plant worker and demanding boyfriend.” He picks up my hard hat and tries it on, smiling brilliantly. He does look hot in that.
“Besides, I am working,” he says, tossing my hat on the bed and moving toward my closet. “I’m making sure you’re safe before I leave. That’s my job.”
He pops his head inside the closet. “Clear!” Then he looks at me, smirking. “See? Working.”
I shake my head at this hopeless maniac who I have apparently just adopted as my boyfriend. He saunters back to the doorway where I’m standing, wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me into him.
“Maybe we should go check in the bed before I leave, too? You never know what danger can be lurking in there.” Before I can object, he kisses me, both lips with tongue, long, soul-sucking kiss.
Whoa! He backs me against the wall, pressing his hips into me so that I can feel his erection against my stomach. My knees get weak as his hands climb feverishly beneath my shirt, pushing my bra up over my breasts, so his fingers have full access to my naked breasts. I glance at the picture of my parents next to Pop. No! Not in front of Pop Pop!
“Cal! Officer Jamison is outside!” I half-pant and half whisper.
“It’s fine. He’s happy. He’s making time and half.” He smiles, lifts my shirt, and begins to lick on my nipples.
Mm. I want to object, to stop. I’m sure we’re breaking several laws, both legally and morally, but it feels so good I just keep thinking I’ll wait one more minute. Dammit! I can’t stop looking at Pop Pop.
“Ellie!” a woman’s voice shouts from the living room. “Ellie Rose!”
“Oh fuck!” I panic, yanking my shirt down with both hands. Unfortunately, Cal isn’t as fast as I am, and I trap his head up beneath it.
“Wait!” he mumbles, trying to dislodge his head from the bottom of my shirt. “Who is it?” he whispers when his head is free.
I freeze, holding my breath and listening, waiting for the Virgin Mary to appear around the corner and convict me.
“Ma’am.” Officer Jamison growls. “You can’t just walk in here.”
“The hell I can’t! Where’s Ellie?”
I put my hand to my heart and exhale. “It’s just Misty.” Which is about as far away from the Virgin Mary as you can get.
I straighten the girls, smooth down my shirt, and do a quick finger comb to my hair. Taking a deep breath, I step out into the hallway, apparently just in the nick of time.
Officer Jamison is removing his handcuffs from his pocket and walking toward Misty. She is poised in the living room, ready to club him with a loaf of French bread.
“Officer Jamison!” I shout. “Really! It’s fine!” I look at them both as if they’re part of a carnival freak show. “Misty, what the hell are you doing? And why do have a loaf of bread in your hand?”
She doesn’t take her eyes off Jamison. “They were on sale at Sawyers, two for four dollars. Rachael made me bring it.” She looks at me, apparently satisfied that Officer Jamison isn’t going to try anything. “Oh! And I brought spaghetti, too.”
“She threw it at me!” Officer Jamison shouts. I look behind him and sure enough, the floor is covered in uncooked pasta. It looks like a giant game of pixie sticks. “Technically, that’s assault on an officer,” he adds, a little huffy.
“You aren’t even wearing a uniform,” Misty argues.
Cal stands behind me in the hall, laughing his ass off.
“What is going on here, Ellie?” Misty walks into the kitchen and places the bread on the bar. “And what’s he doing here?” She points at Jamison rudely.
I sigh. “Officer Jamison, I’m sorry. Do you want some coffee or something?”
“No, ma’am,” he says, looking at Misty, defeated. “If you’re okay, I’ll just go back to the car.”
“We’re fine. But thank you,” I say, trying to smooth things over.
“Cal, do you need to check anything else before you go?” I turn to look at him, regretting it almost immediately. He has laughed so hard there are tears in his eyes and he wipes at them with the backs of his hands.
“Ow,” he says, holding his stomach as if in pain. “Yeah. Just let me just check the other rooms real quick.” He ducks back down the hall, still chuckling, and I return my attention to Misty, who’s now gawking shamelessly at Cal.
“Who the fuck is that?” she asks, not even trying to hide her hot flash.
I smile. “That’s Cal. He works for the Attorney General’s office,” I say. “Oh. And he’s my boyfriend.”
“Shut the fuck up!” she shouts and I shush her.
“Behave! Give me just a minute and I’ll tell you all about it,” I promise, and then I walk down the hall to find Cal.
My house isn’t very big, at least compared to his. So, I find him pretty quickly in one of the spare rooms. “Whose room is this?” he asks, rolling my old softball trophy in his hands.
“It used to be mine. Back when…before…”
He looks at me sweetly. “I think you’re all clear here. I’ll get out of your hair so you can visit.”
I return his gaze, wondering how the hell I’ll get through the next twenty-four hours without him. “Thank you,” I finally say.
“For what?”
“For everything. For not being a hitman. For not whacking me. For saving my life, actually. For feeding me. For sheltering me for two days. For…” I stop.
“Yes?” he says, stepping into me and wrapping his arms around me.
I smile, determined not to thank him for fantasy sex. “For the absolutely wonderful weekend, in spite of everything.”
He smiles. “It was, wasn’t it?”
I nod and he gives me a chaste kiss. “Come on.” He grabs my hand and we walk back to the living room where Misty is busy sweeping up pieces of errant pasta. She stops sweeping when she sees Cal and leans against the broom smiling.
“Well, hi there,” she says in that way that only Misty can.
He gives her his panty-buster smile and I’m afraid she’s going to have to take a shower before she leaves. “Hello, Misty. It’s really n
ice to meet you. Take care of our girl here,” he says as he opens the door.
He turns to me. “I’ll call you tonight and let you know what’s going on. In the meantime, don’t go anywhere but to work. And if anything else comes up, tell Jamison or Phelps. Phelps will be taking the midnight shift with you tonight. Or better yet, call me! I saved my number in your phone.”
He grins and then he pulls me to him, crushing me against him with his hand on my ass as he gives me another soul-sucking kiss.
“I’ll talk to you later.” He smiles and closes the door behind him.
I turn to see Misty fanning herself. “Dear Lord,” she whispers and then begins to fan her crotch. “Is that where you’ve been?”
I smile. “Mm. Hm.”
“Not with Dreamy?”
“Uh-uh.” I shake my head emphatically.
“All weekend?” Misty’s eyes open wide with excitement and disbelief.
“Mm. Hm.”
“Was it as good as it looked?”
“Mm. Hm.” I laugh and walk over to the front window to watch Cal leave. He gives Officer Jamison a nod and a wave as he pulls away.
“Well, let’s sit down so you can tell me all about it. I’ll tell you about Bobby, too, but I don’t think it’s going to be nearly as exciting as your news.”
We sit at the kitchen table and drink coffee for the next hour while she tells me about her latest love interest, Officer Bobby. Then I tell her about my date with Danny, the bodies of women he apparently leaves in his wake, the restaurant scene with Everett, Cal saving me in the parking lot, and then him whisking me away to his house.
I tell her about most of the fantastic sex we had, saving many of the details because I just wasn’t brave enough to say them out loud, not even to her. And finally, I tell her that I have police protection since Danny made it out on bail, which seemed preferable to Cal’s suggested ‘witness protection’.
“I knew it!” she shouts, raising her coffee cup in a mock toast. “Didn’t I tell you guys? I told you that he would come after you!”
“He hasn’t come after me.” I stare at the table, wondering if maybe they’re right. “Well, not yet anyway. I don’t think he will. Surely, that would be too obvious. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know, El. He sounds like one of those mob people. And, you know they whack people all the time.” Don’t say that to Cal. “Does Rachael know about all this?”
I shake my head vehemently. “I didn’t tell her. And apparently you guys didn’t watch the news last night.”
“It was on the news?”
“Danny and Everett were. I wasn’t, thank goodness. Hopefully, by the time she finds out it will all be over.”
“I don’t know about that, sweetie. You forget that I have to live with her. She’ll be madder than a wet hornet if she finds out.”
“Then let’s make sure she doesn’t find out. As far as she’s concerned, I’m just wrapped up in my new boyfriend, Cal.” I smile.
“Looks to me like you are wrapped up in your new boyfriend, Cal.”
“Yeah, I know. He kind of asked me to move in with him. Sort of.”
“What? You just met him!”
“I know. Well, technically, he just asked me to come to his house every day after work this week and stay there. You know, eat, sleep, and shower over there.”
“I hate to break it to you, hon, but that’s pretty much the definition of living together,” she says smugly.
I giggle. “Yeah. I know.”
“What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything. But I mean, absolutely not. It’s too soon. Way too soon. Right?”
Misty smiles. “Probably.”
Chapter Twenty
Misty leaves after her third cup of coffee, sworn to secrecy about Danny and Everett, but vowing to gossip as much as possible about me and Cal. I watch her wave at Officer Jamison as she leaves, but then I’m not so sure she wasn’t flying him the bird.
I spend the rest of the morning trying to do as much laundry as I can so I have free time this week for Cal. And when I’m done, I even clean out the refrigerator, which is starting to smell a bit suspicious. I never had a lot of time to spend on housework between jobs. But I have no excuse anymore. Plus, Ms. Lewis’s cleaning skills have all but shamed me. I think about dusting, too, but I don’t want to be too much of an overachiever.
For lunch, I have a bowl of cereal, which, as I feared, is all I can find in the kitchen. I’ll need to stop by the store on my way in and grab something for my lunch tonight. I call Aunt Jo when I’m done to check in and let her know that I’m on midnights again. She worries if she doesn’t hear from me through the week, and I’m usually in no mood to chat when I wake up from the late shift. After that, I change into my work clothes and grab my hat.
I step outside with my keys and pull the door shut behind me when I spot Jamison’s car. Crap! I need to tell him we’re stopping by the store. I toss my lunch pail on the car seat and then I head across the street toward Jamison’s car. As I get closer, my heart begins to pound. His eyes are closed and he’s not moving at all. His head lolls forward with his chin lodged against his chest. I’m pretty certain he’s dead. Oh my God!
“Jamison!” I shout frantically as I rap on the window.
He jerks awake, yelping and bumping the horn with his elbow.
“Damnation, girl!” He growls as he rolls down his window.
I bend over and put my head between my knees, gulping in deep breaths of air in hopes that it will head off my impending heart failure.
“Jamison, you scared the life out of me!”
“Me? I was just resting my eyes and listening to the game when you started trying to bust out my window.”
Resting your eyes, eh? Whatever. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that I have to go by the Quick Stop on the way in to work to grab a sandwich or something for my lunch tonight.”
“Fine.” He nods. “Are we leaving right now?”
“Yes. If that’s okay.” I’m not accustomed to giving orders to police officers, off duty or not.
He glances at the clock. “Yeah, that’s fine. I just need to let Cal know we’re leaving.”
I roll my eyes. “We can check in when we get there. He’ll be fine. He doesn’t need to know every little move I make.”
Jamison looks at me and shakes his head. “Let’s not spit on the rules here, miss. Cal’s not a bear I really want to poke. Besides, he’s had enough bullshit to deal with.”
“What do you mean? What bullshit?”
He looks at me funny. “You don’t know, do you? I thought you two were…you know…a couple?” He holds up two fingers and wiggles them at me.
I shrug and nod. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Why?”
“I just thought you’d know about it, is all.”
“Know about what, Jamison?” I’m getting pissed now.
“His wife, Carol or Carolina…Caroline! That was it.”
Wife? Did he say her name ‘was’? As in past-tense? “Wife? Where is she? What happened?”
Jamison’s eyes grow distant and he shakes his head a little, as if the thought is just too horrible to spit out. “She was a pretty little thing. And sweet, too. I liked her. So did everyone. She died in a house fire. We all knew it was arson, but no one could ever prove it. They finally ruled it an accident, but Cal tried for years to get them to change it so they could open an investigation. They never would do it.”
I stare at Jamison, horrified. That’s who was in the pictures I found at Cal’s! And that’s why he’s built the cabin out in the middle of the woods, away from everyone, like a hermit.
“Thank you for telling me.” I smile.
“Well, don’t tell him I told you. I probably shouldn’t have. Anyway, he’s a good guy and if he says call him before we leave, I’m going to call him.”
I nod. “Here. Wait! Let’s do this.” I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out my phone, opening my camera. Then
I lean my face over into the window next to Jamison’s. I expect him to grumble and complain, but to my surprise he doesn’t.
“Say cheese!”
“Cheeeeeese!” Jamison chants, making me laugh. I snap the photo and take a look. Grumpy Jamison is smiling so big I’m afraid his cheeks may have cracked. He leans his head toward mine, as if we’re the best of friends. I giggle as I type a quick note to Cal.
To Cal: My friend Jamison and I r leaving 4 work now. Having a blast, but missing u lots. C u soon. El xxoo
I smile and hit send. “Okay. He knows now. Let’s go.” I skip off toward my car, already missing Cal.
“That’ll be six dollars and seventy-eight cents,” the girl behind the counter says in a less than enthusiastic voice. She smacks her gum and stares at me. Seven dollars for a sandwich, a bag of chips, and a soda?
I reach out to hand her my debit card and she sighs at me, then reaches forward and twists a mounted debit machine toward me.
“Sorry. I didn’t see it,” I say as I roll my eyes and swipe my card. I enter my PIN and put my card back in my wallet, waiting for her to stuff my items in a bag so I can go.
“It’s declined.” She smacks at me.
“What? That’s not possible.” I dig out my card again and swipe it once more. It flashes angry red letters at me.
“It’s upside down,” she drawls, rolling her eyes.
I swipe it again, panicked as other customers stroll up in line behind me.
“It backward now,” she huffs.
I think about leaning over the counter to choke her, but I happen to know there’s a policeman sitting outside.
“Here,” she says, snatching the card out of my hand and sliding it through the machine. She punches a few buttons on it, and the cash register comes to life. Then she tosses my three items into a bag and I snatch it from her, running out the door as she yells behind me, “Hey, you want your receipt?”
I march to my car and jump in, starting it and taking off like I just robbed the place. Jamison follows, probably wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I hate making a scene at the checkout of a store, like not having enough money to pay for your groceries or needing a price check on KY Jelly or Lambskin condoms, whatever. It’s totally humiliating.