by Shawn Keys
Drake pulled back and let her slam the door. Once secure inside, he leaned his head against the window.
Take her advice. Just take it easy. I’ll get through this like everything else. No good deed goes unpunished.
He closed his eyes and tried to relax. All he could see was the two kids who were going to live a few more days instead of being victim to some murder-suicide fantasy from their deranged father.
Given that? Yeah, nothing else really mattered.
He could take it.
* * *
The handcuffs were off. The room they were in didn’t have a two-way mirror, and both Cara and Tricia were sitting across the table from Drake.
It was a bit of a fucked-up barometer for measuring success, but Drake laughed. This felt like a step forward from where they were last night.
Tricia had her feet kicked up on the table, not to relax but in a deliberate show of attitude.
Cara teased her, though sounded a little pissed off herself. “You know they can’t see you, right?”
Tricia snorted. “They have cameras in here, I’m sure of it.”
Drake shrugged. “This is one of those rooms where they let you talk to you lawyer in private. Not sure they’re allowed to bug it.”
“After what we’re seen from this place? Even if they don’t use it in court, you know these assholes have an eye in the sky for when they want to listen in.”
None of them had a chance to say more. The door opened and Karin slipped in.
Cara was out of her seat immediately, rushing into her arms and hugging her fiercely. Tricia was a little more reserved, but her smile was wide and genuine. “Where have you been?”
Karin pulled away from Cara, explaining, “Took a while to get our statements down. Michaels keeps insisted this isn’t all a huge coincidence. He’s looking for a link.”
Drake scowled, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Please tell me Hanna Tully’s story sounds at least a little like what really happened?”
Karin slipped over to him, comfortable enough with him to drape her arms down around his shoulders and hug him from behind in a show of sympathy. Drake was tense at first, but felt himself softening in her tender embrace. She said happily, “Oh yeah. And she’s getting snippier every minute they keep her here. She’s been implicating Michaels for obstruction of justice every chance she gets, especially whenever he tries to question what she ‘thinks’ she saw when it comes to you breaking in and stopping Patrick. The detective is going to have a few hard questions to answer. When I left, he was being called into his lieutenant’s office.”
Drake patted the back of her hands on his chest, encouraging them to remain. “I know you probably backed her up beautifully. Thanks for what you’re doing out there. Any idea how much longer we’ll be here?”
“Not long. In fact…” Her eyes went to the door as a shadow showed through the door’s frosted glass.
A second later, the door opened. A trio of police walked in. Sanchez was there, as was the guy Drake decided was her partner, another officer with the name ‘Warren’ on his nametag. They bracketed Michaels, who had a sour expression on his face.
Michaels scowled at Karin first, apparently the object of his scorn. “You can head home, if you want. We have all we need. What you did out there… I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Karin didn’t separate from Drake. He got the distinct impression she knew it would irritate the detective. Drake stroked her arm, encouraging her again to stay close. While they caressed each other, Karin said, “I’m not leaving until my friends go.” She pointed a thumb at Cara. “She’s my ride.”
Michaels growled, “I’m sure we could arrange transport.”
“No thanks.”
With a sigh, he said, “Will you let me get these two women through their interviews first? That way, you can get you out of here?”
Karin shrugged. “I told you they wouldn’t like that. Didn’t I? I think Mr. Drake here should get debriefed first.”
Michaels waved at him. “He doesn’t exactly have anywhere to be.”
Tricia stood suddenly, not quite getting in his face. “It’s Christmas. We all have somewhere to be.” The brunette gestured across the table at Drake. “She’s right. I’ll wait while you speak with him.”
Michaels was struggling to remain polite. “This isn’t a volunteer service.”
Cara spoke up coolly, remaining in her seat with anger hovering just below her surface. “We’re not making any mistakes this time. Not letting you twist things around. Talk to him. Hear his story. Then release him. You aren’t charging him with anything. Not with what Mrs. Tully is saying. Get him done, then get him out of the station. We’re not leaving until he’s clear. Is that simple enough for you? We won’t say a word until then, which means your paperwork doesn’t get cleared up.”
Sanchez said quietly, “Shift’s coming close to being over, Sir. Like they said… it’s Christmas.”
Michaels was beset on all sides, and nothing was going his way. He waved his hands in anger, then stabbed a meaty finger into Warren’s chest. “Fine. You got paperwork detail. Take their final statements as fast as you can, then get them the hell out of here. I’m done with all this.” He stormed out.
Warren shook his head, “Backed the wrong horse this time, didn’t he?” He said to Sanchez. “Give me two minutes to get the paperwork set up, then bring Drake out?” Once Sanchez nodded, he left.
Sanchez gave them all a smile, “We won’t keep you much longer.”
Cara grinned at her. “You’ve been very helpful, Officer. Mind if we speak a little once we’re done? We’re not from around here, and I have a project in mind that’s getting more and more urgent.”
“A project? I mean, I don’t know…”
“Trust me, officer. It won’t take long. I just need a second opinion I can trust.” She darted a glance at Drake, a clear sign she didn’t want to say anything else in front of him.
Sanchez followed then look, then shrugged. “Alright. We’ll talk after.” She slipped out.
Drake sighed. “Don’t do anything too foolish, Cara. Don’t cut any deals for my sake.” He couldn’t think of any other reason she would want to talk to a police officer. “I really do think we’re going to walk away from this clean.”
Cara smiled. “It’s not that. I think we’re good, too. Something else entirely.”
Once again, Drake had the distinct impression there was a link to him in the way Cara was staring at him, but he couldn’t follow.
Deciding not to try, he changed subjects. “You were all amazing back at the house. I don’t think I’ve had a chance to say it. Oh, don’t get me wrong. You were both bloody foolish. He could have easily gotten a shot off. But, well, it was impressive. Brave.”
Tricia smirked, mocking the absent Patrick. “We owed him a little pain. I just wish we could have kicked him a couple more times before the police got there.”
Drake glanced up at the clock in the room. If it was at all accurate, it was just approaching three in the afternoon. “So weird. Feels like it should be midnight after all that has happened.”
Karin smiled. “Any other day, we might have been here until midnight for real. But like the officers said, everyone out there knows it’s Christmas. None of them want to be dragging this out except Michaels, and that’s only to find a loophole or a way to spin the narrative. They cut through our paperwork as fast as they could.”
“Small mercies, I guess.” Drake sighed. “At least your plans aren’t totally ruined. You three should head home. The shelter will be in full swing by the time you get there. They’ll have figured out how to make it all work with the volunteers they have. Go home. Unwrap some presents. Have that supper you were talking about buying.”
Cara smiled. “I think we will. And you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ll go thank Molly. Then, I dunno. There’s time.” He hated the idea of explaining his less-than-spectacular life. For a brief flash of time,
he had felt like his old self. Effective. Powerful. The idea of returning to a cold street corner made him hate himself even more at that moment. He had no idea what he was going to do. A long, dull, horrible night stretched in front of him.
But it’s what I deserve. Ending up like this. That’s all there is to it. All there should be. The dark thoughts bubbled up like they always did. Normally, he just accepted them as old friends. This time, they went down his throat like razor blades. He wanted to throw them up, but couldn’t.
Tricia watched his struggle. She was about to say something else when the door opened.
Sanchez had returned. “Come on, Mr. Drake. Let’s get you processed.”
Karin let him go, and Drake rose from his chair with a nod. Ambling to the door, he paused, glancing around at the women he had no expectation of ever seeing again. “Take care of yourselves. If this is a typical day in your lives, you need to rethink how your choices.”
Tricia’s eyebrow rose, challenging him. “What if we like the danger? What if the thrill is part of the fun?”
Drake chuckled. “Then I wish I had met you under different circumstances.”
Cara arched an eyebrow. “Careful what you wish for.”
They shared a small laugh, and Drake let himself be led away.
Back to his normal life. He had to settle for it. He had to convince himself he could still accept that as life.
But maybe not tonight. Maybe he could pretend there was more to it for a little longer.
He sniffed as he caught whiff of the prisoner lock-up and the alcohol-soaked people already being tossed into the drunk tank from the various parties around the city.
He felt dirty. A week without a bath, and you didn’t really feel it much anymore. But the grime was just coming back.
He wanted to wash it away. The urge was there to stay clean this time.
He barely remembered what that felt like to be clean for this long. It felt good.
Yeah, I need a shower.
Chapter 8:
What Dreams May Come
Drake shut the water off and basked in the steam. It was a shared shower, but everyone else was downstairs enjoying the Christmas dinner that Molly had given to the shelter. Dinner was just getting started, the sun just set, and a deeper chill was settling over the world. Christmas presents were opened, and dinners all over the city were no doubt getting underway.
He stepped out of the shower stall and grabbed his towel. Scrubbing his hair dry, Drake sighed to feel clean again. He wrapped the towel around his waist, then tromped in his shelter-provided slippers out into the hall.
Molly was climbing the stairs, carrying a stack of towels with her. The age difference between them didn’t stop her from devouring his lean form. The street hadn’t made him fat. Some of the killer physique he’d had at the height of his training was softened and muted, but some of his definition remained since he certainly wasn’t packing any fat over it. Her grin emerged. “Glad to be seeing more of you.”
Drake took her teasing flirtation in stride. “Yeah, well, after a day in the police station, I needed another shower. And my go-to spot burned down last night.”
Molly tapped a finger across his lips. “That’s the only reason? The station?”
“What else?”
She shrugged, then smiled again. “Pretty girls tend to have odd effects on people.”
Drake rolled his eyes. “Don’t need to worry about that. All I have is memories of them now. Know the good thing about imaginary girlfriends? They’re pretty cool no matter how you look.”
Molly laughed. Then, she slipped in a suggestion, “You know we run workshops here? We even loan suits for job interviews. Lots of things.”
Drake placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. “One step at a time. Just because I have a little pride back doesn’t mean there’s a lot of hope to go with it. Not many hamburger shops need a rifle expert on staff.”
Molly challenged him. “Oh, come on. There’s a lot of stores that have help wanted signs that never go down. You’ll work alongside a bunch of cranky teenagers and the jobs will be totally beneath your experience level. You won’t make enough to really live well on. But they’re a start.”
Drake turned away. He wasn’t sure why. He knew it wasn’t that easy. If it was anyone but Molly, he might be angry. Employers wanted stability. Phone numbers. People in their own clothes, not borrowed ones. Until you faced someone from a position of hopelessness and read the judgement in their face… they knew you were homeless! It was like a stink you couldn’t wash off. Until you felt that, you never really understand.
But Molly knew all that. She was pushing him to buck the system. To suck up his embarrassment and try again and again. She had the best of intentions. But he was a bad horse to bet on. He shook his head softly. “I don’t know. I just don’t.”
It was Molly’s turn to put a warm hand on his shoulder. “A person can get comfortable being uncomfortable. Ruts trap everyone. We can shake you out of it. Now’s the time, Drake. This last day has been insane for you. Probably enough to make anyone so tired that they could sleep for a week. But it shook you out of your routine. That means energy. Opportunity. Things you haven’t felt for a while. Inspiration! Seize onto that! Use it!”
Drake chuckled in spite of everything. She was pushing hard. She cared. It was more than most people. “Full court press, huh Molly?”
“I have no idea what that means. But I’m going to bug you all night.”
“I could leave. Dodge the rest of these guilt trips.”
“Any time you want, you can leave. No locks on the doors. But you won’t. You’re going to come down and help me serve dinner like you promised earlier.”
“I nearly died twice in the last day!” He had planned to hide in his room all night.
“Being alive is a great reason to be cheerful! Come flash those dimples around and make people happy. Remind yourself what it is like to be on this side of charity. I see it in your eyes. The spark is back. Don’t let it fade. It’s hard to get back.” She had been poking at him with mostly light-hearted jabs, prodding him toward action. Her face grew a little more sober. “You know it’s alright to move on, right?”
Drake froze.
Molly sighed. “I don’t know you. I won’t pretend to. But I know that a lot of people stuck in one place have reasons to stay stuck. If you fought your way back, then you’d have to consider having a real life. That means a lot of things. And… it means having those things even when other people can’t, because they’re gone.”
Drake wanted to walk away.
“It’s alright to have those things, Drake. I know it probably feels like a betrayal. But eventually, you need to decide you’ve punished yourself enough.”
Drake sighed. “I was wrong.”
“Oh?”
He gave a shake of his head, and laughed darkly. “Wrong not to leave when I had the chance. That was the guilt trip to end all guilt trips.”
Molly smiled. “Precisely. To end them. I don’t know what you did, but considering what you’ve done over the last day? I think you’ve earned the right to consider you’ve done enough. For everyone. You deserve a life again.”
Drake shook his head. “What does it say about me I hate myself because I can’t change something I never had any say in. No matter what I do now, I’ll never have that.”
Molly shrugged. “Makes you human. Makes you normal.” She gestured at his powerful, statuesque physique. “You can look like a god, but you aren’t one. Think about that. If you are a human, maybe it’s time to cut yourself a break and come live among us again. I think you can allow yourself that much.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yup.” Molly sounded certain.
“What makes you so qualified?”
“Takes a human to know a human. I’m one, too.” She reached out and patted him on the rear.
He pretended to be shocked, letting her joke bring them back out of the dark topic. “Molly! My
puritanical Molly!”
The older woman smirked, “Just remember, you don’t know me anymore than I know you, Sugar.” She sighed. “Just think about it, alright? Maybe it’s time you cut yourself a break. And like I said, we’d love to see more of those dimples.”
“You keep saying that. I don’t have dimples.”
“Not on these cheeks.” She reached up and patted him on the side of the face with a matronly expression. Then, he patted him on the butt again. “Above these ones.”
Drake gaped at her. This time, he was actually a little shocked. “Molly!” A laugh burst out.
They were interrupted from below. There was a call from Shultz, one of the helper cooks. “Uhh, Molly? There’s a cop at the front door.”
Drake cursed, “Damn. Well, that didn’t last long.”
Molly narrowed her eyes at him. “I thought they let you go? Did you run out before they were done with you?” Her tone got a little sharp; one of her hard rules was that the shelter couldn’t be used to hide from the police. Trying to tuck away inside and having the cops drag you out was one reason she would ban a person.
Drake shook his head. “No, nothing like that. I was free and clear. Thought I was, anyway.”
Molly called back down the stairs. “What do they want?”
“The guy up there taking a shower. Drake.”
Molly frowned at him. “You sure?”
“Yes!”
She huffed, then shooed Drake toward his room. “Go get dressed, then come down quick. I’ll try and figure out what this is about. I’ll stall them so you don’t get dragged away naked.” She bustled off down the stairs.
Drake shuffled into his room, worried at what this could be leading to. He was also a little angry at Molly for pushing him so hard. Angry at himself that maybe she was right. You needed more than clothes and a shower to get a job and back on your feet. You needed to swallow pride. Needed a shit-ton of luck. To find some person willing to give you a chance. To ignite your give-a-fuck factor for more than a few days in a row. But so many things could go wrong…
