Monday Girl's Revenge

by David A. Thyfault

  The councilman hurried to Stump and pointed in his face, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I stuck my neck out for you, even paid for all those damn brochures. Then, when it was your turn to follow through, you’re out making mud pies.”

  Myles stepped forward. “Back off, Barella, before I bloody up your thousand-dollar suit.”

  “I’m going to send you people a bill,” Barella said before clomping off.

  Danielle Delgado wiped some dirt off Stump’s eyebrow then dropped her hand to his shoulder. “Something awful must have happened. I’m sorry. I know this was real important to you.”

  Stump dumped himself onto the bench and grabbed his knee. “Yeah. I’m sorry too.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  So much to tell. So much more to hide. Delores stopped at the restroom before her next appointment with Dr. Jeanine Moreno. When washing up, Delores looked in the mirror. A detective was supposed to have her act together but how the hell was she supposed to be a leader when her own life was a complicated cobweb of confusion?

  In her personal life, she held a life-long grudge against Tio, yet did virtually nothing about it. More recently, she stupidly chased another nice man away for no good reason. Then there was her turn-the-tables exploitation of Clint the cowboy who hadn’t really done her any wrong. In fact, she made things worse for herself when she led the dude on, then capriciously changed her mind, thereby earning the self-ascribed label: prick tease.

  Her work life was just as bad. She was determined to show her higher-ups how mature she was by playing the role of a naïve teenager. How dopey was that? Not as bad as subjecting herself to a perv like Dixon Browne, as if convicting him would stop the thousands of pervs everywhere. The fact of the matter was there were so many similar cases on the shelves it would take an army of detectives to make a small dent in their number.

  With so many misgivings, Delores had serious doubts whether she was really fit for police work. That’s why she needed another healthy dose of Doctor Moreno’s advice. Jeanine always made her feel better or at least gave her ways to deal with her anxieties.

  “Good morning, Delores,” Jeanine said minutes later and directing her patient to the still-tidy sitting area by her big window. As usual, Jeanine snagged the chair to the right, thereby revealing the back of her hand.

  “I see you redid your nails,” Delores said. “Mind if I look?”

  Jeanine folded her feet up under her as she always seemed to do and extended her hands for inspection. This time one thumbnail was sky blue with a polished flat yellow stone glued near the cuticle; the other thumbnail had a darker background with a small pearl-colored button, obviously representing a full moon. Predictably, there were no clouds in Jeanine’s skies.

  The remaining nails bore images of the toes of four different pairs of tennis shoes, each pair a different size and color. Somebody had painted dainty little laces on each shoe. Delores shook her head in admiration. “You are so creative.”

  “Each pair of shoes represents a real pair in our family. That’s why my husband’s look so dirty, and the youngest girl’s shoelace is untied.”

  Delores smiled. “They beat tattoos ’cause you can change your nails whenever you want.”

  Jeanine put her finger to her lips. “Don’t tell anybody, but I have a Sylvester the Cat tattoo on my lower back. My husband calls it his Puddy tatt.”

  “Puddy tatt?” Delores almost laughed out loud. “Well, I hope I have a family like yours someday.”

  Jeanine pointed toward her desk. “Before we get going, you’ll be pleased to know the department has finally agreed to pay my fee for eight weeks.”

  Delores raised her eyebrows. “That’s a relief. After what happened to me lately, I need every darn one of those weeks.”

  “Why? Was this week worse than usual?”

  “I wouldn’t call it worse,” Delores fibbed. “Just a lot more of the same conflicts.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, when you find yourself entangled in these confrontations do you remember to choose kindness over being correct, like we discussed?”

  Delores grimaced. “To tell you the truth, Jeanine, most of my conflicts are with some pretty nasty people. It’s difficult to choose kindness with people like that.”

  “Let’s start there,” Jeanine said, tugging her leg tighter. “Give me an example.”

  “Sure. I’ve always hated the groping that Tio did to Simone and me, but now that I can do something about it, I don’t want to drop a bomb in the middle of Mama’s life. I keep hoping he’s changed, but I don’t like that guy and it’s nearly impossible to be kind to him.”

  “I see. Along those lines, a while back you told me Tio’s actions made it impossible for you to trust men when your relationships become serious. But I’ve never heard you speak of your interactions with women. Do you think you’d feel the same way about a romantic encounter with another woman?”

  Delores wrapped her arms around her pillow. “I admit I’ve asked myself that same question, but I’m not really attracted to women in that way. In fact, I bet we both know women who can be just as manipulative as any man can, and that’s what I don’t like. When people say they like you but they are really just looking to get off. Either gender can be like that. I’m definitely not gay.”

  “Okay. Let me ask you something else. You seem to get along well with men when there’s no threat of intimacy. But when you get alone in a romantic or special moment, your wheels fall off. Can you tell me about the transition? What is the trigger that changes everything?”

  Delores’s mind flashed to how wonderful everything was with Gordon, right up to the moment he said he’d like to get to know her better. But discussing the matter with Jeanine might lead to a very uncomfortable follow-up conversation about a certain cowboy and she wasn’t ready for that. She glared out the window, where a swaying palm tree looked as if it were trying to dodge the breeze, much like she was trying to dodge the truth. She hesitated for what must have been a full minute, then, “I wasn’t really ready to talk about this,” she said looking down, “but the fact is, well, I’m a coward.”

  “A coward? That’s a term I wouldn’t have ascribed to you. If it makes any difference, I think it takes incredible bravery to subject oneself to people like Dixon Browne. There aren’t many people who could pull that off.”

  “I guess not, but what if I make things worse for somebody, or fail and make a fool of myself?”

  “Well, you can’t control everything and everybody, but I can tell you that people who get bogged down in self-doubt don’t accomplish as much as the ones who plow forward and take their chances.”

  “It’s still scary.”

  “I’m sure it is, but our problems, be they cowardice or anything else, are often byproducts of our early years. Based on our previous discussions and how animated you’ve been today, I’m guessing something dramatic happened recently along those lines. Can you tell me about it?”

  Delores’s eyes sought the company of the swinging palm tree. Finally she rose. “His name was Gordon.”

  For the next half hour, Delores informed her friend of a delightful suspendered guy who wanted to get to know her better. Finally, a tear took possession of the corner of her eye. “It was like love at first sight, Jeanine, until I shoved that stupid book in his face and ran away. Now, I’ll never see him again.”

  “That must have been disappointing,” Jeanine said with heartfelt compassion. “What happened after that? Did you go back and look for him?”

  Delores dug her nails into her chair. She wasn’t about to get into the cowboy event where she’d have to admit she’d done something so irrational she could have been nominated for Idiot of the Year. Just then a welcome ping announced their meeting had neared the end. Thank God.

  “We can get back to this next time,” Jeannie said, “but before you go, I have something I’d like you to try when you’re alone. It’s along the lines of IMT. I call it Project Out and Reflect Back. W
ould you be willing to give it a try?”

  “Can’t hurt,” Delores said, happy to talk about anything but her turn-the-table tactics.

  “Okay, then,” Jeanine said. “Here’s how it works. Get in a quiet spot and lay your head back. Close your eyes, get comfortable and imagine what your life will be like twenty years from now. Get to an older and wiser version of who you are now. Does that wiser you have gray hairs or wrinkles? What’s your home like? Are you married? Have children? Where’s your mom? Things like that. Then once you’ve projected yourself into that mindset, you’re going to ask your smarter self to reflect back. Ask that knowledgeable version of you what she thinks you should have done differently during the previous twenty years.”

  “Oh, I get it. It’s like a do-over, without having to make the mistakes first. Sounds interesting.” Of course, anything was better than discussing a certain cowboy.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  After seeing Sergeant Myles Cooper’s truck pull into the police lot Delores worked her way to the conference room. The night before Myles had called her to request a meeting regarding Stump and Dixon Browne. While she waited she listened to her most recent recording of her and Dixon. Most of it was difficult to understand, so she made notes.

  “Okay. I’ll get back to you,” Myles said to a caller as he entered the conference room and ended his call. He nodded toward Delores. “First Stump, now my mom.”

  “We can reschedule if you need to,” she replied, while flicking off her recorder.

  “Naw. That won’t change anything. She fell and bruised her arm. She needs a little more supervision. It’s looking as if I’m going to have to go get her and let her live with us.”

  “Moms don’t always know how much we worry about them.” Or about our careers or our personal lives.

  “Agreed, but right now I’ve got to deal with Stump. He had a run-in with Dixon and I had to take him to the medical clinic.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “It’s nothing permanent. His big meeting was supposed to be last night but Dixon sabotaged Stump’s bike and he ended up in a ditch with a severely sprained knee. He damn near didn’t get out of there. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him.”

  “Oh, my God. What happened?”

  Myles sat forward and told her the whole story to the point when he found Stump sitting on a curb at the convenience store. “He had mud all over him and could barely walk. Now he’s home in bed, doped up on Percodan.”

  Delores pursed her lips and recalled what Dixon did to Francisca’s wrists. Now this.

  “We don’t have any proof,” Myles added, “but Stump has been a thorn in that guy’s side from day one so—”

  “I gotta admit, Stump’s always been a good judge of character. Now what? You going to make him quit his job?”

  Myles hesitated for a second, then, “I don’t know, Detective. He wants to get a car, and now he’s got a girlfriend. The last thing he needs is for his daddy to pull the carpet out from under him.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve seen them talking.” She’d seen them climb into a van too, but didn’t see the point in mentioning it.

  “If I drag him away from there, he’d resent it and they’d still find ways to get together. I’m just hoping they’re being careful. A hasty accident would change their lives forever.”

  Delores smiled wistfully. If her own mama had been more open about sexuality, maybe they could have talked about Tio’s behavior and stopped it before Simone ran away. “Sounds like you’re going to let him hang in there.”

  “It’s a tough choice, but regardless, I think Dixon needs to be stopped before he does any serious damage.”

  Before he does any serious damage? It was antiquated comments like that that constantly reminded Delores that she was at odds with an entire gender that seemed oblivious to how people like Dixon completely destroyed lives. Either all of them were mistaken or she was. “Really? Are you saying serial rape isn’t serious?”

  Myles paused, twisted his head and said, “I’m sorry, Detective. I have to admit that up until now, I pretty much thought your rape by deception argument was a reach. After all, it’s a new concept and hard to prove, and when it comes to relationships both genders do a lot of misleading.”

  Maybe there was a ray of hope with Myles. “But now, some light in your head has gone on?”

  “Yeah. I think so. When Dixon puts unnecessary obstacles in Stump’s way, he’s messing with me too.” Myles squared up to her and lowered his voice. “You’re in a similar boat. Dixon’s wives aren’t just women to you—they’re like family—just as Stump is family to me and we both want to protect our families. Up until now, you understood that better than a dunder-head like me. I’m sorry I didn’t put all that together sooner.”

  Delores allowed herself a Mona Lisa smile. There was no telling how complete Myles’s epiphany was, but it was as if she’d reached the top of a tall hill and could finally go downhill for a change.

  “Let’s start over,” Myles said. “What can I do to help?”

  “Well, Dixon threw Francisca out and he wants me to move in with him; I’m running out of time.” She tapped her recorder. “He admitted to defrauding women, but he wasn’t very specific and he could always say he was just making it all up to impress me.”

  “You’re keeping a gun close by, aren’t you?”

  “Just my little pistol. Anything else would be too bulky and conspicuous.” She cleared her throat. “There’s another thing. Dixon said he’d taken nasty videos.”

  “Uh-oh. Did she go along with it?”

  “I doubt it, but even if she did—”

  Myles raised his hand. “She wouldn’t have consented to anything like that were it not for his lies.”

  It appeared as if Myles really was catching on. “It would be nice to get in his apartment to confiscate or even steal those videos, to spare those women from embarrassment.”

  “That’s illegal seizure. You wouldn’t be able to use them as evidence.”

  “I know, but at least I can prevent him from spreading them around. At the same time, I don’t think I want to risk tipping him off that somebody is paying attention to him.”

  “So I take it you have some other angle?”

  “I need something stronger. I’m going to see Francisca this afternoon in Carlsbad. You can come with me if you want to.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. If you’re thinking of asking her intimate questions, she’d probably be more at ease if I wasn’t there. You got anything else I can do?”

  “I’m glad you asked. Dixon told me about a woman named Victoria who he likes to see a couple times a month, just on Wednesdays.”

  “A Wednesday Girl? You mentioned her before.”

  Delores nodded and ticked her tongue behind her teeth. “Exactly. It’s the same kind of relationship he wants me to have with him on Mondays. I’d like you to have a non-threatening chat with Victoria, maybe about something unrelated, just to find out how loyal she is to him. But the important thing is to keep it low key, so she doesn’t get spooked and tip him off that we’re on to him. If she’s willing to sing, she might know how we can reach his exes.”

  Myles nodded. “Got it. What else?”

  “Well, our preliminary background check on Dixon included criminal, credit and phone records, but you guys have more resources. I’d like you to do a broader search. Get a national criminal check and see if you can find any other bank accounts, maybe out of state. You just never know what we might learn.”

  “Sure.”

  “Social media too. I once heard a woman say she found some information on Ancestry-dot-com about an old boyfriend that didn’t come up in Google. It wasn’t the kind of thing that would have been on a police record either.”

  “Okay. Anything else?”

  “Not for now, but I’m going to try to figure out how Dixon gets so many marriage licenses. There’s no telling how deep this goes or who else might be in on it.”


  “Good idea. It sounds like we have a plan. Before I get out of here, can I ask you something else? Would you be interested in meeting somebody? I know a nice guy about your age who works at the ME Office.”

  A set-up with another cop? That couldn’t possibly end well. “Not really, especially not another cop. And that medical stuff can get sorta gross. I already see too much of that. I don’t want somebody else’s cases haunting me too.”

  Myles shrugged. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I think he’d like you.”

  “Thanks anyway.”

  As Myles walked off, Delores stood tall and flipped her hair back. She may have been surrounded by quite a few “dunder-heads,” as Myles called himself, but at least she finally had a symbolic victory with somebody. Only 10,000 more cops in L.A. to go.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Once again, Stump and Maria were alone and naked. At least it seemed that way. He wasn’t touching her, nor could he see her. But none of that counted as long as they were together and this time nobody cared. He was happy, at peace, in love. His erect penis seemed happy too.

  His muzzy mind sent answers to unasked questions. Oh, yeah. It was Wednesday. He’d seen a doctor, taken powerful drugs and just had a dream. His bedside clock reflected eleven-thirty.

  More alert, he had to take a leak and it wouldn’t be simple with a severely sprained knee and a powerful case of morning wood. He scooted carefully to the edge of the bed, eased his legs to the floor and rose to his feet. He’d never taken pain pills before, but the throbbing in his knee assured him it was a damn good idea.

  He leaned into his dresser and then the wall as he hobbled toward the bathroom. At the stool he elected to sit down to pee. Ahhhh. If only all his problems were that easy to solve.

  While sitting there he removed the elastic knee brace that he’d gotten from the doctor’s office. The damn knee looked like a war zone—swollen, bruised and ugly. He wished he could check in on Maria, but she’d be in school. Damn Dixon.