by Lori L. Lake
Crystal Lopez, still complaining, tossed her the keys and hiked out to the car with her. “I hate this holiday.”
Jaylynn gave her a big grin. “Sounds like exactly the same thing happens on Cinco de Mayo.”
“Yeah, but at least I get a little respect from the kids.”
“Hey, we could get you some nice leprechaun ears or something.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I like my own ears just fine.”
They arrived in downtown and parked in a tow-away zone. One of the few benefits of police work was never having to worry about finding a parking spot or about getting ticketed or tagged. They headed down the block on foot, Crystal moving toward the castle-like Landmark Center which was across from Rice Park and the library, and Jaylynn farther down the street by the bank. The parade route was blockaded to prevent all traffic, but as every moment passed, more and more people appeared and lined the parade route.
A tiny old lady, face full of pink wrinkles and dressed in a light green elf hat, green polyester pants, a bright green jacket, and olive green tennis shoes stopped Jaylynn to ask what time the parade began and where the best place would be to watch. Jaylynn explained that the marchers would come up the street and head toward the River Centre. She suggested the woman cross the street and watch from a vantage point by the Saint Paul Hotel because she could get up on the steps and see better. The old lady tipped her hat and moved jauntily across the street in the busy crosswalk. Jaylynn watched her until she made it safely to the other side. Her roaming eye caught sight of her fellow officer standing on the far opposite corner in front of the new Pazzaluna restaurant.
Dez Reilly stood calmly, her reflective sunglasses glinting in the sunlight. Her head was turned slightly away, but Jaylynn had the distinct feeling of being watched. She let her hazel eyes focus on the mirrored lenses, as though she could see right through them. With a start, Dez’s head swiveled away. Jaylynn smiled.
After a while Jaylynn glanced at her watch. Noon now, and when she listened carefully over the talking and laughing of the crowd, she heard the faraway boom-boom of a bass drum, which gradually grew noisier until she could also discern the tinny sound of horns. Before long, the band could be heard loud and clear. She saw a bright green banner so wide that it went from one curb across to the other and required six people to hold it. Hundreds of people followed, some as part of civic groups, some as parts of the various clans. The mayor and his entourage crawled along in a convertible. “Provided by Chuck O’Leary Chevrolet” was lettered in neon green on the side of the vehicle. Shamrocks and green hats and curly-toed shoes and green, green, green was everywhere as far as the eye could see.
As the mayor’s car neared the intersection of Fifth and Wabasha, Jaylynn caught sight of a quick movement. A young man on Dez’s side of the street suddenly drew his arm back to throw something light tan in color. His arm came forward. Jaylynn opened her mouth to shout, but before a sound escaped, the light tan object vanished and the man stumbled forward a step off the curb and into the street. A blue arm grabbed him from behind. He jerked back and disappeared from sight as the place where he’d been standing filled in with the eager onlookers.
The mayor’s car passed. Jaylynn saluted. In the vehicle’s wake, she cut across the street and hastened toward the hotel. The next band coming down the street was playing “When Irish Eyes Are Smilin’.” She stepped to the beat of the song. She squeezed through the crowd lining the curb and peered over by Pazzaluna. From the Saint Paul Hotel corner she saw Dez’s dark hair. Dez no longer wore sunglasses. Her right hand held the tan object, and her left grasped the material at the front of the young man’s coat.
Jaylynn weaved her way through the people on the sidewalk and hustled across Wabasha. As she drew near the altercation, she saw Dez strongarm the young man up against the plate glass window of the restaurant, her fist under his chin and still holding his bunched up jacket. The man was a good six inches shorter than Dez, but clearly he wasn’t afraid of her. Jaylynn heard him say, “You can’t prove it. You don’t know.”
A low voice growled, “You’re under arrest.”
“For what?” he asked, his voice rising to a whining sound
“You were going to throw this at the mayor’s car.” She held up the object. As Jaylynn drew nearer, she saw a paper bag wrapped around a bottle.
Jaylynn reached out. “Here. Let me have that.” With barely a glance, Dez let go of the bottle. She hefted it in her hand. At least half full and heavy enough to have done some damage to the car or to a person, if it hit right. Dez cuffed the man and read him his rights.
The tail end of the parade passed by, and as it moved away, the people lined up along the street began to break up, too, looking curiously at the two cops standing with the suspect. Even though his hands were cuffed behind him, he pressed forward at Dez, snarling and swearing. When he kicked out at her, Dez sprang back easily and moved into a ready stance.
Jaylynn watched as a predatory look swept across Dez’s face, her eyes alight with excitement.
In the crowd someone muttered, “Police brutality again.” Jaylynn looked up, startled, but she couldn’t determine who made the comment.
The cuffed man called out, “Look at this, people. Asshole cops, arresting innocent people as usual.” Dez grabbed his arm. He jerked away.
With her free hand, Jaylynn gripped the man’s ear. He winced and let out a squawk. “Listen up, mister.” She raised her voice for the benefit of the milling crowd. “I saw you try to throw this at the mayor’s car.” She held up the bottle in the bag. “Quit whining and come along.”
She yanked him by his ear and, with his head turned to the side, he shuffled beside her, protesting, but docile, like a small child in trouble with his mom. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” she scolded. “You had no reason to be so unpleasant. Come on now.” The crowd lost interest and dispersed. When she and the man reached the corner, Jaylynn glanced over her shoulder. “Reilly, where you parked?”
Dez gave Jaylynn a quizzical look and tossed her head toward Kellogg Blvd. “ ’Round the corner there.” She trailed a few steps behind, watching Jaylynn dragging the sputtering man, and suddenly it seemed very comical. Minutes ago, she’d wanted to beat the hell out of this half-drunk moron, and now—well, now it didn’t matter. She watched as Jaylynn continued to berate the man, her hair shining like white gold in the cold March sun. Dez was struck with a sense of familiarity, as though she had done this before, had followed Jaylynn down scores of other streets hundreds of times. The images brought a smile to her lips, though, upon reflection, she had no idea why she felt so happy.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jaylynn was pleased to see the end of March and the beginning of April, though in her household, April Fool’s Day was always a chore. The previous year Tim had put green rubber garter snakes in Sara’s and her beds and duct-taped the refrigerator door shut. This year, Jaylynn decided to get back at him, so she soaked his toothbrush overnight in white vinegar. She also hid his car keys and emptied out all the grounds from the coffee can. She knew she would be home when he woke up, so she figured after he groused for a while, she would confess and have a good laugh.
The funny thing was that Kevin, who had apparently spent the night, was the recipient of two of the three jokes. He went to use the toothbrush, and from her room, Jaylynn heard the response to that quite plainly. He was also the one to discover the lack of coffee. That kind of took the fun out of it since Tim was the real target. Jaylynn gave Kevin a clean toothbrush and got out the coffee for the poor guy. She put the car keys back out in plain sight. She was amused to discover that Tim had completely forgotten about April Fool’s Day, which was just fine with her.
She went back to her room and turned on her CD player, selecting Gloria Estefan’s “Destiny” for background music, then flopped down on the couch. She picked up a letter she was writing to her Auntie Lynn in Seattle, but after rereading a bit of it, she put it down. Arranging the couch pillow behi
nd her head, she kicked her feet out on the cushions and slumped down. She picked up the book of stories she’d been reading and tried to focus, but she couldn’t. She let the book fall next to her and closed her eyes.
The face that came to mind, as usual, was one she didn’t want to think about. She couldn’t avoid it. Dark hair, arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, liquid blue eyes, and an occasional smile. Jaylynn hadn’t seen that crooked half-smile for weeks. She was tired of riding with a variety of officers. She wanted her old FTO back—under any circumstances. She missed Dez desperately, and everything about police work was drudgery lately. Face it, she thought, I joined the force because of her. I couldn’t admit that to anyone, but if anyone asked, I’d have to be honest. Maybe it’s ridiculous, but it’s the truth. Am I an idiot or what?
Suddenly full of nervous energy, she stood and went over to make the bed. Looking around the room she decided the time had come for a good spring cleaning. In three days her mother and sisters were due for a visit, so she figured she’d better get things organized. It’d be close quarters for five days with her mom sharing the double bed and the girls on the hide-a-bed couch in sleeping bags.
She couldn’t wait to see them.
Is this it? Is this it?” Two perky little girl voices warbled excitedly from the back seat as Jaylynn pulled into a parking space. The two sisters opened the back doors and prepared to tumble out of the car.
“Wait, girls,” Jaylynn said. “Leave the toys there in the car. You can’t bring those Barbies in with you.”
After carefully setting their dolls on the seat, two compact girls emerged from the gray Camry. They looked a great deal like Jaylynn: hazel eyes, long legs, twitchy with nervous energy. Only their hair was different from their older sister’s. Both girls had shocks of straight sandy brown hair like their father’s, while Jaylynn’s short hair was white-blonde like her mother’s.
Their mother, a slender woman in her mid-forties, picked up her purse and got out. Jaylynn waited for the girls to slam their doors shut, then pushed the auto-lock. She looked admiringly at her new car, about which her mother eagerly approved. So nice to travel in a clean vehicle, unlike Tim’s, which was always packed full of newspapers and candy wrappers and crumpled McDonald’s bags. She was glad she’d been able to buy the car before the girls’ spring break. It made it much easier to show them around town.
“Amanda,” their mother said, “tie your shoe. And you there, quit acting so squirrelly.” In excitement, Jaylynn’s youngest sister, Erin, bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. She paused. When her mother looked away, she resumed her determined bouncing.
“This way, Mom.” Jaylynn led the three of them to the front entrance. The mid-afternoon sun slanted down upon them, but it shed no warmth on this breezy April day.
Erin pushed past Amanda and took Jaylynn’s hand. “Will we get to see your gun?”.
“No, sweetie, my gun is in my locker at work. Police work isn’t about guns, Erin. It’s about helping people.”
“Not on TV,” chimed in the worldly-wise Amanda.
“This is definitely not TV,” Jaylynn said. She pushed through the front door and led them into the police station.
With a whine in her voice, Erin said, “Do we at least get to meet our hero?”
Jaylynn and her mother looked at one another over the top of the girls’ heads and rolled their eyes.
Their mother said, “I don’t know why you two insist on this ‘Our Hero’ business.”
“She is our hero, Mother,” Amanda said in the patient voice of a nine-year-old who knows adults are not always aware of what is important. “She saved Jay and Sara and everything. We can’t wait to see her.”
Jaylynn interrupted, “There’s always a chance she won’t be here, so don’t get your hopes up.” In fact, Jaylynn didn’t expect Dez to be around for another half-hour, saving herself the discomfort of being in her harsh presence. In a way, she did want her family to meet Dez, but she was also acutely aware of the awkwardness she’d feel.
Amanda and Erin skipped through the halls. They both wore white tennis shoes and blue corduroy pants, but Amanda’s jacket was pink with purple trim while Erin’s was a solid forest green. They giggled their way along, asking questions, and stopping to greet every police officer they saw. Once, when they saw a dark-haired female cop, they asked, “Are you Desiree? We’re looking for our hero.” Erin pronounced her name oddly: Desert-RAY with the emphasis on the last syllable. Jaylynn’s mother shook her head as she tried to herd the rambunctious girls down another hall while Jaylynn apologized to the perplexed officer who was definitely not Dez. As they moved through the building, she pointed out the Complaint Desk, the Comm Center, and the Property Room.
After telling the girls not to bother anyone, especially if anyone were changing clothes, Jaylynn led them down the stairs and pushed open the door to the women’s locker room. The girls skipped through the door and paused at the first row of lockers, followed by their mother and big sister. Jaylynn winced when she heard Amanda say, “Hi there. Are you our hero? We’re looking for Desiree.”
A low voice answered. “And who’s asking?”
In unison the girls said, “We are.” They stood at the end of the locker room bench, looking up, waiting.
Dez smiled. “And who might you be?” She finished buttoning her shirt and slammed her locker shut as Jaylynn and her mother came around the corner and stepped up behind the girls. Ah, I should have figured this out, Dez thought. The little girls resemble Jaylynn, and all three of them look just like their mother.
Dez met the eyes of Jaylynn’s mom and stood for a moment, stunned. Why, she’s beautiful. What a great figure. If Jaylynn looks like that in twenty years, she’ll be beautiful, too. Her eyes shifted to take her in, and she was even more amazed to notice that Jaylynn was—already—quite a looker. She had rarely seen Jaylynn out of the boxy blue uniform or workout sweats, and the few times Jaylynn had worn street clothes, Dez had to admit she hadn’t paid much attention. Today she wore tight black jeans and a form-fitting white scoop-necked sweater revealing her shapely figure. A soft tan leather jacket was draped over one arm, and a gold locket on a chain rested in the hollow of her throat. Dez’s eyes traveled upward to a face that looked worried.
Erin looked back over her shoulder at Jaylynn. “Well? Is this her or what?” she asked in exasperation. She stepped back and squinted up at Dez.
Jaylynn gently placed her hands on Erin’s shoulders. “Yes.”
Amanda and Erin both let out a cheer. “Yay! It’s about time we found her!” Erin started her bouncing routine until Jaylynn’s hands squeezed her shoulders to settle her down. Jaylynn knew her face was crimson, but she took a deep breath and said, “Desiree Reilly, these are my sisters Erin and Amanda. And this is my mother, Janet Lindstrom.”
Jaylynn’s mother shook hands with Dez. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you from Jaylynn.”
In an excited voice, Amanda said, “We think we might want your autograph.”
Dez gazed over at Jaylynn with a quizzical look on her face. She arched one eyebrow and turned back to Amanda. “Why?”
Jaylynn’s mother started to answer but before she could get a word out, Erin cut in. “Because you’re our hero. You saved our sister from the bad men, and now she’s a policeman saving other people from the bad men.”
Dez nodded slowly. “Actually, she’s a police woman.”
The girls nodded in unison.
Janet sighed. “It’s a good thing they’ve finally met you. I swear it’s all they’ve talked about since we left Seattle. They got this notion in their heads about you, and you know how kids are. I think they expect you to fly or astral project or something like that.”
The girls protested and Dez laughed.
Jaylynn’s mother went on, “But seriously, how’s your arm? Jaylynn told me you broke it in the ruckus.”
“Oh,” Dez said, surprised. “It’s just fine.”
She flexed her right hand. “No problems at all.”
Erin said, in a small plaintive voice, “Can we see your gun?”
Dez sat down on the bench so she was eye to eye with the girls. “No, I’m sorry, but it’s not a toy. I only take it out of the holster for two reasons. Do you know what they are?”
Amanda said, “To shoot someone?”
“No, I get it out if there’s a threat and I think I might have to use it. I also have to clean it and make sure it always works right, but other than that, it stays right here snapped shut in the holster.” She patted her hip.
Erin said, “How many people have you killed so far?”
Jaylynn, who’d born the interrogation with great embarrassment, piped up and said, “Erin! I told you: zero. The police don’t go around shooting people.”
“Listen to your sister,” Dez said. “She’s right.” Dez’s amused eyes met Jaylynn’s, and it happened again, that twinge in the pit of her stomach. Hastily she checked the lock on her locker, making sure it was secured. When she turned back, she avoided Jaylynn’s eyes, though she smiled. “When you told me you had two younger sisters, it didn’t connect that they would be grade-schoolers.”
Jaylynn’s mother said, “Third and fourth grade—and quite a handful.” She smiled, and Dez was struck by how friendly she was.
She nodded in understanding, looking down at the two girls staring up at her. “Why don’t you two come up and have a tour with me. Then we’ll see the roll call room. I’ll introduce you to all the guys, and you can hear how we get assigned our night’s work.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Jaylynn protested.
“I don’t mind. I’ve got plenty of time. Shift doesn’t start for,” she checked her watch, “forty-two minutes.”
