Gun Shy

by Lori L. Lake

  “It—it bothers me, Dez. I think about it far too much.”

  “I know what you mean,” Dez said bitterly.

  “Will you tell me what happened that night, the night Ryan got shot?”

  Dez stiffened, her breath stopping in her chest. Not today. I can’t. She forced herself to take a breath and relax her hands, which she found she was gripping in tight fists. “Yes, I will someday. Just not now, okay?”

  Jaylynn’s head nodded in front of her. “Another thing keeps bothering me. I couldn’t take it if it happened again. I—I don’t know if I can—I’m not sure if—crap! What I’m trying to say is how were you able to stay on the job?” She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket and shifted to the left so she could look back at Dez behind her.

  Dez stared at her, surprised and concerned. “I don’t know. I just did. I tried not to think about it.”

  “But did you ever want to quit?”

  “Quit? Quit being a cop? No, it’s the only thing I know how to do.”

  Jaylynn burst out into a mirthful laugh. “What do you mean? You know how to do tons of things.”

  The response flustered Dez, and now it was she who looked away from the steady eyes. “Not anything that’s a profession.”

  “Oh, give me a break. You can build stuff, you get along with people, you follow directions well, and you’re an excellent teacher. Hell, you could run a paint company. You’re very smart, Dez. A million professions would open up for you. You’ve been a patrol cop for all this time. Have you ever thought of promoting?”

  Dez pressed back against the cool rock. “Sometimes.”

  In an excited voice, Jaylynn said, “Why don’t you take the sergeant’s exam then? It’s coming up in a couple months again.” She sat up and shifted almost a quarter turn so she could look over her left shoulder and face Dez.

  “I don’t know. Sergeants have a crappy job.”

  “You’d be a great detective. Why haven’t you applied for vice or homicide or something like that?”

  “How did this suddenly get to be all about me?” Dez grumbled.

  For some reason that made Jaylynn laugh out loud. “You are such a character.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You crack me up.” She grinned and then impulsively said, “You make me happy.”

  Next thing Dez knew, Jaylynn was again nestled in her arms, this time twisted more on her side, her cheek pressed into the chest of Dez’s green sweatshirt. Dez slowly brought her arms up and gathered Jaylynn tighter to her. She felt a wave of protectiveness wash over her and realized she was helpless before this bundle of energy. She could no sooner resist her than she could stop breathing. And much as she might hate the uncertainty, she’d have to do something about it. She sighed and in a soft voice said, “You make me happy, too.”

  Some time later, they made their way off the rocks, across the pebbly beach, and back through the forest. Under the cover of trees was not nearly so warm, so Jaylynn unfolded the blanket and draped it over her shoulders.

  Dez said, “You look like you’re in a blue cape.”

  “Just call me Superman,” Jaylynn said.

  “I’m pretty sure Superman’s cape was red.”

  “You think so? But it couldn’t possibly have been this warm.”

  “Bet that old rag won’t let you fly though.”

  Jaylynn cheerfully trudged up the stone stairs to the truck and stood inspecting the blue material. “I think this blanket has gotten a little dirty today,” she said as she refolded it.

  “It’ll wash.” Dez swung up into the truck.

  There she goes, Jaylynn thought, back to being a woman of few words. She crawled up into the cab and watched Dez out of the corner of her eye as she started up the truck.

  Dez looked over and caught her staring. “What?”

  Jaylynn hastened to shrug and say, “Nothing,” with a hint of innocence in her voice. Inside she was smiling and wondering how to get Dez to extend the day with her.

  In a noncommittal voice, Dez said, “Back to Duluth?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  Dez looked away and out the side window. She didn’t want the morning to end. I don’t want to go home. She hadn’t wanted to leave the rocky promontory they’d been on. “Are you hungry?”

  Jaylynn giggled. “Do fish have fins?”

  Dez couldn’t help but chuckle. She relaxed as she backed out of the parking space. “I guess the question now is do we go north or south?”

  “Which direction will yield the closest food?”

  Dez grinned. “Hmmm.” She thought for a moment. “Two Harbors is south and has some restaurants. Beaver Bay and Silver Bay are north and they do, too. Beyond them are some neat towns, and there’s always Grand Marais, but that’s a bit of a drive.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Dez frowned. “You want to go to Grand Marais?”

  “Yeah. Let’s head that direction. If you don’t mind, that is.”

  “No, I don’t mind at all.” Dez threw the truck into gear and peeled out of the parking lot, accelerating to fifty and then easing into a steady speed. She heard a click and saw Jaylynn unbuckling her seatbelt.

  Jaylynn moved over toward Dez and fished around in the cushions of the bench seat to find the middle lap belt. Shyly, she said, “I’d like to sit here by you, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  Jaylynn put on the center belt, then let her hands drop to her lap. They drove along up the road like that for some time, following a string of vehicles, before Dez finally mustered up the courage to take her right hand off the wheel and reach out. Jaylynn promptly opened her hand and laced their fingers together.

  At the same time that Dez was flooded with warmth and a buoyancy she wasn’t used to, she worried about the teenage emotions that kept rising in her unbidden. She felt like a fool, like a sheepish, daffy, lovesick teenager. How embarrassing. She sneaked a dubious look out of the corner of her eye. Jaylynn seemed to have the same bashfulness adorning her face. Dez’s eyes did not veer away quickly enough, and Jaylynn turned and looked up at her, catching her unguarded gaze.

  “Are we going to talk about what’s happening, Dez?”

  Dez knew immediately what she was referring to, but she hesitated. She gazed back at the road. “No.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I mean yes. Just—just, not right now. Is that okay?”

  She watched Jaylynn look down at their hands, and then the hazel eyes were looking up at her, full of trust and hope. “Can I ask why?”

  Dez didn’t answer right away, but when she did, she chose her words with care. “Let’s enjoy the day for right now then.”

  “But we will talk?”

  Dez nodded. “Soon.”

  Jaylynn lifted their hands out of her lap. “Is this okay?”

  With a big smile on her face, she said, “Yes, it’s more than okay. Please—stay right where you are.” She leveled her blue eyes on Jaylynn and was rewarded with a smile, and Jaylynn leaned her head against her shoulder.

  It felt very right. It felt like home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Dez and Jaylynn ate omelettes and hash browns in Grand Marais at a funny little café called Gwen’s Goodies. In addition to the old-fashioned chrome-trimmed booth in which they sat, they were surrounded by art supplies, stationery, and art pieces: sculptures, mosaics, paintings, clay pots. One entire wall was covered with artwork Grandma Moses could have done. Upon another wall, a variety of Amish quilts were displayed. Over their table hung a four-foot-tall papier-mâché mask. Celtic music warbled in the background. The small restaurant was an explosion: wild colors, the sound of pennywhistles, and the smell of butter and cinnamon. Jaylynn loved it.

  Dez sat slouched in the booth, her hands in her jacket pockets, gazing across the room out the café’s bay window. The sun shone brightly through the window, and across the road, piles of rocks bordered a finger of the lake that pointed toward them.

&n
bsp; Jaylynn said, “A penny for your thoughts.”

  Dez’s head swung toward her, crystal blue eyes coming to rest on her face. Jaylynn was once again startled at the intensity of her Dez’s gaze. She couldn’t help but smile.

  “I wasn’t thinking of anything much—just how my dad used to take my brother and me out walleye fishing when we were little. Not up here, but at a smaller lake.”

  “Do you only have one brother?” Jaylynn asked. “No sisters?”

  She nodded and pulled her hands out of her pockets. “Yup.”

  “You never talk about him.”

  Dez shook her head and sat up taller. “Not much to say. We’re not close.”

  Jaylynn paused, considering whether to ask the next logical question. Instead, she said, “Where does he live?”

  “Eden Prairie.”

  “That’s not far to travel. Wish my family lived so near. And I always wished I had a brother. Is he older or younger than you?”

  “Younger, by four years.”

  Jaylynn paused a moment, worried she’d start treading on thin ice, but she went ahead. “At the hospital, you know, after you got shot, I got the impression your mom is a doctor.”

  “Yup. Ophthalmologist.”

  Jaylynn nodded. “I see. Is she married to that Mac?”

  This clearly startled Dez. She jerked up from her slouching position in the booth and leveled an intent stare. “Of course they’re not married. Why would you ask that?”

  Jaylynn set her fork down and pushed her plate away. She wiped her lips with the napkin and said, “That night—at the hospital—it was clear to me that they care about each other.”

  “He was my father’s best friend. That’s it.”

  “Dez,” Jaylynn said gently, “it’s been a lot of years since your dad died. Your mom has moved on, I think.”

  “With Mac? I don’t think so. You’re wrong.” She crossed her arms over her sweatshirt and glowered with a face so cross that Jaylynn would have laughed if the topic wasn’t so obviously painful.

  Jaylynn sat quietly thinking back to the scene in the hospital room on the Fourth of July. She had no doubt Mac MacArthur and Colette Reilly were more than just friends, but she didn’t understand why Dez not only didn’t know that, but was also so against it. Yet another mystery to unravel. She wondered how many secrets and old wounds Dez harbored.

  The waitress appeared to ask if they needed anything more, and when both women shook their heads, she set the check facedown on the table and cleared their plates away. Dez picked up the ticket, glanced at it, and rose, tossing a sheaf of bills on the table.

  Jaylynn opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Dez said, “I got that—don’t worry about it. C’mon.”

  Jaylynn slid out of the booth, wincing at the change in Dez’s demeanor. She followed Dez by an eight-foot-tall display of Mary Engelbreit items, between two racks of stationery, and past a shelf full of art supplies. When they got out to the sidewalk, Dez strode toward her truck.

  Jaylynn caught up with Dez and grabbed her hand, halting her. “Dez! Look at me.”

  Dez raised blue eyes full of misery.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Mutely Dez nodded, but it looked to Jaylynn like she was on the verge of tears.

  “There’s no hurry, is there? Can we walk over there by the water?” Jaylynn pointed across the road to where the long jetty extended out to the sea. She kept hold of Dez’s hand and led her along behind her, across the street, down a short walk, and onto the pebbly beach. The wind whipped her hair to the side, and she felt the warmth of the sun as it shone down brightly upon them. As they drew close, two gulls took flight and flapped above them before retreating to a safe distance. Jaylynn stepped around a dead bass, its flesh mostly picked away by the birds, and she kept a tight hold on Dez’s hand, which felt cold in her grip.

  Once they were far away from the street, and the restaurant appeared as small as a tiny wooden block in the distance, Jaylynn stopped and looked up at Dez whom she’d been dragging along behind her. Still holding her hand, she asked, “Remember that conversation we had walking around the lake? The one about practicing talking about stuff?”

  Dez nodded.

  Jaylynn gave her a grin. “You’ve been shirking your training in that area. So out of the blue you get some heavy weight and you can’t lift it.” She made a tsk-tsk sound with her tongue, and with her free hand shook her finger in the air. In a kind voice, she said, “You know what happens when an athlete dogs it in practice?”

  Dez didn’t respond in words, but a line of furrows appeared on her forehead, and she looked away out to sea.

  “Um hmm. I know you know. Extra drills. Extra training until you’re on top of your form.” She cupped Dez’s cheek in one hand, bringing her face back so they were eye to eye. She let her hand drop. “You can’t run away from this, Dez, and you don’t need to. Come here.”

  Dez let Jaylynn lead her another twenty paces until they came to a large chunk of driftwood wedged deep into the sand. Between two branches, there was just enough space for one person to sit.

  “Here, sit down and take a load off,” Jaylynn said, the double meaning not missed by Dez. She bent to sit on the log, but Jaylynn said, “Wait a minute. I think I should get the tall seat for once.” She sat and pointed down, “You get to sit in front this time.”

  Dez lowered herself onto the warm sand and nestled her hips back against the partly buried log. Jaylynn splayed her legs out on either side of her, and Dez leaned her head back until it came in contact with warm solidness. She felt Jaylynn rest her forearms on her broad shoulders. A tickle of breath in her ear said, “You don’t even have to look at me—just start talking.”

  Dez was at a loss as to what to say, where to start. She had not been involved in her mother’s life—or Mac’s, for that matter—for nearly seven years. Mac retired five years earlier at fifty-five, and she so very rarely saw him. For all she knew, perhaps they were together. She didn’t remember very much about their visit during the long night she spent at the hospital after being shot. She wished she could, but from the moment of the bullet’s impact until the next morning, everything was fuzzy.

  She sat up tall and grasped Jaylynn’s forearms, gently moving the tawny limbs down, and crossed her own arms over the top of them. Jaylynn shifted until she was pressed tight against the muscular back, her chin resting on Dez’s left shoulder, and her arms around a warm neck.

  In a hoarse voice, Dez asked, “Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes, I am,” a soft voice said in her ear.

  “Okay. What do you remember about my mother’s visit to the hospital that night?”

  Jaylynn considered for a moment. “Are you asking me to tell you every little detail I can remember, or do you want to know why I think Mac and your mother are lovers?”

  A snort of laughter erupted from Dez. Clearly Jaylynn didn’t mess around skimming the surface of tough subjects. She peered around Dez’s shoulder and tried to see in her eyes. “Hey, hey!” Dez said. “You’re supposed to stay on your side of the couch, Dr. Freud.” She felt Jaylynn laughing behind her. “Yes, I want to know why you think they’re lovers.”

  Jaylynn took a deep breath and said, “Body proximity, eye contact, affectionate touch.”

  Dez wanted to mention that with the exception of the eye contact, right now anyone observing the two of them would assume they were lovers—and they weren’t—but she held her tongue.

  “Do you recall what you said to your mother?”

  Dez paused, then shook her head and waited.

  “If I remember correctly, it was something like, ‘Why are you here, Mom? You don’t even like me anymore.’ As soon as you said that, she teared up, and Mac stepped in close, a little behind her. His arm had been across her shoulders, but he let it drop around her waist—practically around her whole middle—so that his hand came to rest like this.” Jaylynn’s hand caressed down Dez’s front until s
he laid it flat against the reclining woman’s stomach, just below her left breast.

  Dez drew in a sharp breath.

  “See? That’s kind of an intimate touch, and he wouldn’t have done that—under those circumstances especially—unless they had a high level of trust in one another. And from your mother’s demeanor, her manner, she doesn’t let just anybody touch her.”

  “Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

  Jaylynn laughed. “You could say that.”

  Dez thought about Jaylynn’s explanation, which did make sense. She remembered that all through her teen years she wanted Mac to take her father’s place, to leave his wife and come live with her family. But it wasn’t until she was twenty-two that he and his wife divorced. Soon after, she and Mac had their falling out. Her mouth dropped open, and she stared out across Lake Superior in wonderment. After a moment, she said, “Shit, I think I figured something out.”

  “What?”

  Jaylynn pressed a slightly chilled face against her neck, and Dez felt a thrill of electricity course through her body, which she tried to disregard. “I always assumed my mother called up Mac and outed me to him out of spite. But what if she and he were seeing each other, and I became a topic of conversation between them? Maybe it was a natural thing for her to confide in him about me, since she knew he cared about me. Then what if he started acting so distant with me because he was being protective of their relationship as well as my feelings—like maybe he didn’t want to interfere with my life?” Dez knew Mac never was the type to horn in on anyone’s business, not in his work life and not in his personal life. He had, in fact, always let her work through her troubles her own way and been quite supportive of her.

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Jaylynn asked.

  “Easier said than done.”

  “Call him up on the phone. Send him a letter. Just start something. You’ll never find out otherwise, and aren’t you incredibly curious? I know I am.”

  Dez couldn’t keep from grinning and was glad Jaylynn couldn’t see the goofy expression on her face. “Yeah, I guess I am. It’s probably time to bury the hatchet anyway—for sure with my mom.”