by Mark Pepper
‘Amanda?’
‘Who else? Did you hear what I just said?’
‘I got the part?’ Hayley said, heart thumping.
‘Malibu Mischief, yeah, you got it!’
Hayley’s world view changed in that second. Light and hope flooded in. She leapt out of bed.
‘So it’s mine?’
Amanda laughed. ‘Yes, it’s yours. Initial contract period a year. I made a tentative acceptance on your behalf –’
‘Tentative?’ she almost screamed. ‘Tell them yes!’
‘Don’t you want to know the terms?’
‘No! Yes! Yes, tell me. Is the money good?’
‘Very generous indeed,’ said her agent, still laughing. ‘Okay, I’ll call them now to confirm, then get back to you with the details. Listen, well done, sweetheart, I am so pleased for you. And Hayley?’
‘What?’
‘Make the most of your anonymity, you start shooting next week.’
Hayley replaced the receiver and couldn’t believe how different she felt inside. One phone call and her life had changed. She finally had a life. No longer simply a cop’s wife, she was Hayley Roth, soap star. People would stare at her in the street, ask for her autograph. She could trade in her old Beetle for something new. Larry could leave the department, work for himself or not work at all; she would be earning enough for the both of them.
In the midst of her excitement she remembered something and calmed down. She sat on the bed and closed her eyes. Silent thanks were due. In the cemetery on the day of the interview, it seemed someone had been listening.
Joey was sitting in his bathrobe at the kitchen table. He was on his umpteenth cup of coffee, which was playing havoc with his empty stomach, already sickened by the events of the previous night and a subsequent lack of sleep. The fear he harbored now for his wife’s safety was a fear unrivaled by any he had known as a soldier, and Joey realized how stupid he had been to turn up at the drugs bust like some avenging angel. What had he achieved? He had failed to save Mallory, and had wilfully and violently prevented Roth from escaping with the booty, which may have seen him flee south and across the border, totally removing him from the equation – and wouldn’t that have been the ultimate in desired results? Instead, Roth now had to be livid with him and hell-bent on revenge.
He suddenly looked up at the ceiling and knew from the sound of footfalls that his son had just woken his wife. Having recently taken maternity leave from the Beverly Hills school where she taught elementary, Laura now had no reason to get up early and this particular morning had managed to sleep in. It didn’t always work that way. It was Junior who decided his mom’s sleep pattern, and when he became active in the morning Laura had little option but to do the same.
Now she was up and Joey was facing possibly the worst day of their married life. When Laura entered the kitchen in her ridiculously swollen nightshirt he was so ashamed he couldn’t even look at her.
‘Hey, Hon,’ she said, ruffling his hair, before heading for the percolator.
‘Hey,’ he said quietly.
‘What time did you get back last night?’ she asked, pouring a cup.
It wasn’t a loaded question; she knew nothing of his exploits. He had left the house on the pretext of picking up some breakfast provisions from the local store. Had she been awake on his return, he would have confessed there and then, but she’d fallen asleep and looked so serene in her slumbers that he couldn’t bring himself to wake her. Instead, he’d gone back downstairs to make the first in a long line of coffees, and to regret ever more with each passing minute his decision to leave the house in the first place.
Laura sat opposite with her cup of coffee and noticed the sleepless, haunted expression on her husband’s face.
‘You look like crap,’ she said. ‘Didn’t you sleep well?’
‘I didn’t come to bed,’ he said, still not able to meet her eyes.
‘Why not?’
‘Things went badly wrong last night,’ he said quietly. ‘Roth shot dead six drug dealers.’
Her jaw fell open. ‘What? Roth went ahead with it?’
‘Yeah. And good riddance to the dealers, that’s not the problem. We lost one of our own. Kevin Mallory. Poor bastard was partnered with Roth, who obviously didn’t bother to clue him in on his plans for the evening.’
Laura was ashen. ‘Who told you? Did someone call? Did Roth call?’
Joey shook his head. ‘No, Babe. I was there.’
Laura made a shocked little noise in her throat, and Joey continued, despite the fact of his wife now staring at him like he was a complete imbecile.
‘I didn’t go to the store last night, I went to try and stop Roth. I knew he was gonna do it, and I knew he wasn’t about to tell whoever he was partnered with what they’d be walking into. But I got there too late. Roth was the only one left alive. He wanted to take the money and drugs and disappear but I wouldn’t let him. I knocked him out. He’ll have spent the night with Internal Affairs.’
Laura was aghast. ‘Jesus, why didn’t you just let the bastard take what he wanted? You don’t think he’ll be after your blood now? And what if he tells them you knew about it? You’ll be out of a job.’
‘I know, I know ... I was stupid.’
‘Joey ...’
‘It didn’t seem right,’ he explained feebly.
‘And this is? Having him coming after you because you screwed him over, then refused him an out?’
‘Babe, don’t worry. Revenge is big in the movies, not so much in real life.’
‘Well, pardon me if I’m not reassured,’ Laura said.
‘Meantime, we get away from here. I’ll take some paternity leave. Square it with the captain. No problem.’
Laura was shaking her head. ‘No. No. After years of uncertainty, never knowing where you were, when you’d be home, if you’d even be coming home, finally we’ve got some stability and I like it. We’re not running away, Joey. I won’t let him have that power over us.’
‘It’s too dangerous to stay, Laura, you don’t understand.’
Joey was nearing the heart of the problem now, but still stopped short. For that reason, Laura couldn’t understand, and even smiled.
‘Are you telling me you can’t handle someone like Larry Roth? With all your training, everything you’ve been through? You’ve been up against some of the worst people on the planet and you’ve never failed to come out on top. So what is it about Larry Roth that’s got you so freaked?’
Joey met and held her gaze for the longest time. Now was the moment to restore that perfect honesty to their relationship.
‘Because I’m not the one he threatened – you are.’
Laura froze.
‘I’m sorry, Babe, I should have told you. Roth said if I didn’t help out last night, he may try and frame you as a drug dealer.’
Laura’s belated reaction was somewhere between horrified and hysterically amused. ‘A drug dealer? Me?’
‘I should have told you,’ he repeated quietly.
‘Yes, you should, Joey. That’s rather a pertinent piece of information, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Sorry. Truly. But you know the person I am. I always try and do the right thing. This time it didn’t work out. Doesn’t mean I didn’t try. I’d never knowingly do anything to place you in harm’s way. You’re everything to me. You’re my whole life. But that’s why we need to leave town, at least for a while.’
Laura thought about it, then her face took on a set that Joey found most unnerving. It was the sort of kick-ass expression that would not have been out of place on a young Marine prior to his first mission. A fear-fuelled aggression that reeked of threat. Before he could ask her what was behind it, she stood up and left the room and could be heard climbing the stairs in that ponderous way of hers. Joey wondered if she might be back down with a bag of clothes and toiletries packed for him to leave the house with.
She descended a few minutes later with a black leather fanny pack
which she placed on the kitchen table before sitting down.
‘I don’t need it, Babe,’ he said. ‘I carry the Browning off-duty. You know that.’
Laura unzipped the bag and removed their home-defense handgun, a smaller model Sig-Sauer with laser sighting. She dropped the clip to check it was full, then zipped it back in the bag. She extended the strap as far as it would go and clipped it around her distended waist.
‘You’re kidding me. My pregnant wife is packing?’
‘What car does he drive?’
‘Silver Corvette, an older one. Why?’
‘So I’ll know if it’s him.’
Joey looked at his wife like she was loca.
‘Quit it, Joey. What d’you expect? I spend my life with a military man; you don’t think certain things rub off? I need to know I can launch a pre-emptive strike.’
‘That’s settled it,’ Joey said. ‘We are leaving town.’
‘You wanna go, go,’ she said.
Joey knew her well enough to know she wasn’t about to budge. Her heels were dug in hard. He tried a different tack.
‘So where’s your Concealed Carry Weapon license for that thing?’
She gave him a twisted smile, and the finger. ‘Screw you.’
It was all too ludicrous. His pregnant schoolmarm wife had turned into The Terminator. Joey started to titter.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘if Junior grows up wanting to be a soldier, I’m blaming you. Poor kid’s got a gun strapped to him and he’s still in the womb.’
They smiled at each other. They were still a team, strong and bound by love. The smiles faded in unison.
‘You really don’t want to leave?’ Joey checked, one last time.
‘No. I’m making a stand. You did it for years for Uncle Sam. Now I’m doing it for us.’
Joey nodded but knew she didn’t need his approval. Her mind was made up.
‘Roth won’t come,’ he said. ‘I know he won’t.’
Laura looked at him. ‘But if he does, I won’t ask why. He has no business being near me. I’ll just red-dot the son-of-a-bitch and pull the trigger.’
‘That’s easier said than done – taking someone’s life.’
‘Watch me.’
The telephone rang.
Her husband’s Corvette was in its regular spot when Hayley returned from the store. She stopped dead for a few seconds on the street and the breath held in her throat. Larry would have called it bullshit but she was picking up some really horrible vibes. After her career news that morning she would have considered her good mood to be impenetrable, but something nasty had just broken through, unexpected and deeply unpleasant, like a knife through a Kevlar vest.
She looked up at the apartment window and considered walking on by. Instead, she went into the courtyard, past the communal pool, up the steps onto the walkway and along to the front door. It was home – where else could she go? She let herself in with the groceries and stopped dead for a second time.
Larry was perched on the sofa with his head hung, having ignored her arrival. His Bianchi holster was empty on the glass coffee table, the .45 was in his hands, and he appeared to be caressing it.
‘Hey,’ she said gently, not really wanting to be heard. ‘What’s wrong?’
No answer, no movement. She didn’t feel like offering sugary endearments but fear could re-write the script.
‘Honey?’
‘I fucked up,’ he said through teeth that barely moved to allow the words out.
‘Are you hurt?’ she asked softly. ‘You’re talking like a ventriloquist.’
‘I got hit on the jaw.’
Hayley closed her eyes. Sympathy was completely absent inside her. This was meant to be a day of rejoicing and he had ruined it. If that was selfish, she didn’t care. She clutched the brown grocery bag tightly.
‘Put the gun away, Larry. Let’s talk.’
‘Why?’ he said miserably.
‘Because, whatever it is, we can make it better.’
She didn’t believe this. There was plenty in the world beyond salvation. Perhaps this latest blow would seal their fate as a married couple. Her reluctance to simply cross the living room and embrace her husband showed up the damage to date. And she was still afraid of him; she wanted to stay by the door.
Larry was chortling at her last comment, but Hayley gathered he was mocking himself more than her.
‘It can’t be made better,’ he said. ‘Unless you got some special incense that can raise the dead.’
Hayley felt her heart sink further. She didn’t want to ask and didn’t really need to. He looked up at her for the first time, his smile pathetic, full of self-pity, but without malice. He seemed genuinely pleased to see her, and Hayley experienced a spark of hope. Whatever had happened, perhaps it would prove a blessing; what her favorite UCLA drama teacher would have termed a “breakthrough”. Perhaps Larry’s hard-nut shell had cracked open and the boy inside would need all her nurturing love.
‘I killed six people last night,’ he announced.
Hayley swallowed hard.
‘Drugs bust. Seven if you include my partner.’
‘You mean he’s dead, uh ... DeCecco, is it?’
Larry snorted like he’d heard the unfunny punch-line to a sick joke. He shook his head. ‘Kevin Mallory.’
‘But I thought –’
‘DeCecco cried off.’
‘Cried off?’
‘Called in sick.’
Hayley nodded, but was curious as to why Larry had phrased it so. To her, crying off and being ill were two different things. She avoided his gaze and stared into the top of her grocery sack. All the ingredients of a celebratory meal were in there.
‘Are you gonna stand there all day?’ he asked suddenly, and Hayley jumped. Her mind had been visiting a parallel universe in which the Roths were popping a bottle of Champagne and her mom wasn’t terminal.
‘Larry, you don’t need the gun.’
To her relief, he put it down, and the chromed steel clacked on the glass surface of the table. He leaned back on the sofa and let his head loll. She put the groceries on the sideboard and crossed the living room and simply stood there. Before the episode with the tin of beer she would not have hesitated; she would have sat down, pulled him close and held him tight. Now, she felt like a teenager on a first date, unsure how to breach the divide. Larry looked up, his eyes questioning, and she was obliged to take a seat. After a few seconds, he rested his head on her shoulder, which Hayley found equally touching and terrifying.
‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ she asked.
‘Not now. I’ve been talking all night. Fucking IA.’
‘Oh. Okay. You’re not in any trouble, though, are you?’
He lifted his head and gave her a withering look.
‘No, the mayor gave me a fucking medal – of course I’m in trouble.’
‘But you were only doing your job.’
‘My job was to wait for back-up. I was glory-seeking. IA knows it. But there’s a shitload they don’t know and they know they don’t know. And until they do know, they got my badge and my gun. And if they ever do know, I sure as shit won’t be getting them back. Meanwhile, I’m suspended from duty.’
Hayley didn’t quite follow all of that but thought it best not to ask. Larry stood up and went into the kitchen and she knew he’d be back with a beer. She was surprised when he returned with two, and handed one to her.
‘I know it’s early but here,’ he said. ‘Peace offering. I don’t want us to fight. We need to be strong.’
She accepted the tin with a hugely appreciative smile as he sat back down and took a gulp. Hayley didn’t know what to say, so took a slurp of beer.
‘Do you still love me, Hayley?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Of course.’ In the circumstances, it was the only sensible response.
‘Then we’ll make it,’ he said stoically. ‘Whatever happens. Even if they fire me. I’ll get a job, meet the payment
s. We won’t lose the apartment. You won’t suffer. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.’
But Hayley saw he was worrying, and so now seemed the perfect time to tell him.
‘Larry, you remember I had a second interview for Malibu Mischief?’
From his expression, it was clear he didn’t. ‘Uh …’
‘Well ... I got it.’
His attempt at enthusiasm was smothered by his blatant disinterest.
‘Oh, that’s great. Whatcha got? Coupla days?’
‘Three hundred and sixty-five, actually. To start with.’ She was fighting the giggles. ‘My God, Larry, the money. I can’t believe they want to give me all that money. You’re worried about losing this place? I’m gonna be buying us a place in the hills! We can have a pool, everything!’
Hayley had a weird thought as she watched her husband’s expression: she must have been speaking Mandarin and he had gotten the translation all wrong. Instead of being pleased, his face was distorting with anger.
‘Did you hear?’ she said.
‘And this is meant to make me feel better, is it, Hayley? I kill six people, lose a partner, I may lose my job, and you fucking laugh?’
Hayley experienced an awful trepidation, a sinking sickness in her stomach. This was a moment she knew would transform for ever the tenor of her marriage, and she knew it had not yet developed its full potential. She began to protest but his sudden move to standing cut her short. She cowered into the cushions, the chilled aluminum in her hand speeding the shivers through her body.
Shaking with emotion, crushing and spilling his own tin, Larry glared down at her.
‘You think I want to be kept by you, is that it? Stay home while you go earn the big bucks and laugh with your acting buddies about the dumb schmuck who’s got a fucking apron round his waist instead of a gun?’
‘Larry –’
He lashed out, kicking wildly at the underside of the coffee table. The circular glass top shattered and leapt in the air, all shards and jags. Hayley gawked in terror at this prolog to fury. She watched the .45 jump with the force and land on the glassy carpet, then she was grabbed by the wrist and yanked to her feet, Larry twisting her arm so viciously she felt her ulna snap. But her shriek was interrupted by a fist, which splattered her lips and broke her front teeth and sprawled her back on the sofa.
