“Your family?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“So? You need time off?”
Jeremy looked up at her. He didn’t know what he needed. His brain had turned to slush. Maybe that’s where the heart-sludge came from. Yeah, it dripped from his brain. Everything slowed to a point. Time seemed to be a foreign concept.
“You’re not okay at all. Go home. Figure it out. Go to Jacksonville. Take care of yourself and your family, J.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.” The sludge seemed to have seeped out and encompassed his entire body. He couldn’t move. He needed to go but couldn’t bring himself to get up out of the chair.
“Jeremy. Go.” Sheila’s forceful command had him finally moving.
He stood up and shook himself. “I’m kind of shocked, but I’m okay. I’m fine. I’m always fine.” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince her or himself.
Two – Ollie
Ollie had been in town for two whole days with very little to do, so he took his sweet damn time getting to the meeting. The start time was eight a.m., but Ollie strolled in at quarter till nine. He grabbed a coffee and pastry off the back table and stood by the door, more interested in the snack than what the Lieutenant had to say.
“Nice of you to join us, Mendosa.”
Ollie looked up at the sound of his name and gave the Lieutenant a cheeky smile before biting into his treat—something with a fruity center.
“As I was saying...we’ve had a few more calls that seem to match the profile of the group Walker is working on with our new visitor, Specialist Mendosa. I’ve sent you both files on the information we have so far. Any other calls that come in will go straight to you to handle. Got it?”
Ollie’s partner gave a salute from where he sat on the end of the third row. “Yes, sir.”
With his mouth full, Ollie simply lifted up his coffee in acknowledgment. From the scowl on the Lieutenant’s face, he could tell he wasn’t making a great impression. Ollie took another sip of his coffee, and when the Lieutenant moved on to other business, he slid out the door. He didn’t give a shit if anyone noticed.
He’d been assigned a desk right next to his new partner, Detective Austin Walker, so he settled himself in and booted up the desktop computer also assigned to him. After a millennia of loading, he finally entered his credentials and searched for the files the good old Lieutenant sent over. Before he could get far, Walker stormed over and slammed his chair back, loudly dropping a file on top of the desk. The meeting had obviously adjourned.
“What the hell is your problem, Mendosa? Are you trying to get us in trouble? What? ‘Cause this is supposed to be your baby...and you skip the morning meeting like it’s nothin’? What the hell is up with that?”
Walker was bent out of shape, but Ollie didn’t particularly care. Walker seemed like a nice guy if you liked good-ol-boys an’ all. Ollie had been sent here, deep into the heart of Dixie, to work out the kinks on his new app, and that app was the only thing Ollie cared about. “Waste of time.”
“You’re fixin’ to find out what a waste of time is for real when you get booted off the case.”
Ollie rolled his eyes. “Look. Walker. I’m not a part of this unit. I’m only here for this one thing.” He pulled out his phone and held it up. “So, if it doesn’t have to do with the app. It is a waste. Now, make yourself useful, and let’s go through these extra files. Let me know if you spot anything that might be significant and the locations.”
“You could be a little nicer, City Boy.”
Ollie smirked. “Yeah, and pigs could fly.”
Walker laughed. “You ain’t been down to my Aunt Patsy’s place when they round up the piglets, either.”
Ollie shook his head. “Oo-kay...”
“Shut up.” Walker smiled but then got to work. He might be mouthy, but he was serious about his job, and Ollie’s app could be something big. The app was created with artificial intelligence, or AI, and machine learning algorithms that would help any officer in the field with profiling and predicting cases. He hoped it would speed up the time it took to solve crimes and maybe solve some crimes that had otherwise come to dead ends, cold cases.
He systematically entered information for case after case on his phone. “This is helping. A lot.”
“Good. Glad something’s not a waste. Oh, here I got another one.” Walker sent over the information.
The data they were working on had to do with a string of extortion and theft incidents across Jacksonville and the surrounding areas in the past few months. It was the perfect trial run for his program that he called D-TAPPPSS, which stood for Data Triangulation Application for Place Prediction Profiling and Securing Suspects. The short version was much easier to say—thank God for acronyms.
Ollie spent the rest of the morning with Walker, entering data and reviewing the results until Walker finally gave in to his hunger. “Hey, I’m fixin’ to go get some lunch. You comin’?”
“Sure. I could use some chow.”
“Dude. Chow is what you feed your dogs.”
Ollie looked at Walker blankly. The man was an enigma. He was a good detective and smart, solving more crimes in the area than any other, but he spoke like a hick. Ollie suspected he did it on purpose because he was sure a lot more intelligent than he sounded. He looked like a beach bum with his holey jeans, flip-flops, and Ron Jon t-shirts, not to mention his blond, sun-kissed hair. When he dressed up, he wore t-shirts with artistic versions of sport fishing under a short-sleeved button up, usually plaid and not at all color coordinated. “Well, come on, then.” Walker grabbed his aviator sunglasses off his desk with one hand and his keys with the other.
Ollie checked his weapon under his arm and pulled on his light windbreaker. He found a pack of Wintergreen Lifesavers where he’d stashed them in the top drawer of his desk and dropped them in his trouser pocket. He didn’t have a lot of summer clothes appropriate for the hot Florida sun, so mostly he wore khaki pants and short sleeve button ups with the pair of boat shoes he’d picked up. He saved his holey jeans and t-shirts for after work.
He followed Walker out to his car, a non-descript Camry. Four doors. It wasn’t police issued. He’d asked his first day. He figured Walker would drive a pickup truck—a dirty one, maybe four-wheel drive with giant tires. But, no. He preferred something subtle. Ollie had driven from New York with a rented van that pulled his bike on a trailer. He could ask the department for a vehicle, but he preferred his bike anyway.
They worked out of the Sheriff’s office on East Bay, so they drove over to Hemming Plaza and walked to one of Walker’s favorite cafes. They had a variety of food there, and Ollie had come to appreciate it as much as Walker.
Their days were pretty routine. Entering cases into D-TAPPPSS, heading out for lunch, afternoons of more of the same, and early evenings at the rental place, overlooking the river. It was a great view, and a bit expensive, but he’d not splurged on anything except his bike since he graduated from college and joined the force. He’d had two promotions since then, so he figured if he was going to spend time down south, he might as well enjoy it. Too bad he actually wasn’t doing that.
He did find a few bars to hang out at, the closest was the 619-Jax, and he liked it well enough, but he sure as hell wasn’t picking up any of the locals. Every time he had gone out, he’d returned home alone. The warm weather and the city atmosphere were fine, but they weren’t home. He couldn’t quite get comfortable. Maybe it was the humidity.
At home, back in New York, he had regular fuck-buddies. Guys that were cool to hang out with, and if everyone was willing, to fool around with. One, in particular, had been a regular thing. They were friends and hung out. He considered inviting him for a weekend then changed his mind about a hundred times. Corey Bishop didn’t need to visit him in Florida to get laid. He wouldn’t want to come down, and Ollie was pretty sure he didn’t want Corey to come, either. His focus had to be D-TAPPPSS. Everything else went to the back burner. Including sex.
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After lunch, they headed back to the station. Ollie played with the app, trying to pinpoint possible targets or an area that the perps might frequent. His app used information about crimes and demographics on potential suspects to predict additional possible suspects or likely places they’d strike. He used all kinds of data from previous crimes like descriptions of suspects, cars they drove, including make and model, and locations. It took that information and compared it to crime databases.
He still didn’t have enough data on these crimes. The system learned as it went, so the more information it had, the better it would work. “Is it wrong of me to want these guys to strike again? I mean, I don’t want more victims, but I need more data.”
“I get it. No sweat. They will strike again, like it or not, anyway. Fuckin’ criminals.”
They had to throw out a lot of cases that didn’t match the profile, so Ollie combed through those again. Maybe they’d missed something, or maybe he needed to tweak his algorithm because it picked up way too many things instead of the small subset he was looking for. It was brand new technology with too much room for error. He needed to adjust it, tweak the code. He’d have to double check that he’d used clean data. It took a lot of focus.
Three – Jeremy
Journal Entry: Family. I never think much about them until holidays or when something happens. My Aunt Christy passed away, and I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. It was sudden. Who knew what was going to happen? This was the way it was meant to be, though I can’t fathom why. I won’t torture myself over it. I mourn her passing, and I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to reconnect with family. She wanted me to be there with them. I keep thinking of this quote from my Tao learning: Everything changes. The seasons come and go. I can watch the sun setting night after night. This is simply another twist in the path.
Everyone cried at the funeral. Scottie and his girlfriend sat beside Jeremy. His mother, Bernie, and her current husband, Will, sat in the pew in front of them with their daughter, Danelle. Across the aisle, sat friends that Jeremy didn’t know. Some of them glanced over at the family from time to time throughout the service. Did they wonder who he was? He hadn’t been around, hadn’t lived in Jacksonville in years.
Some people said he looked a lot like his father, Brian, and that made him question how many of them actually remembered his father. He hadn’t been around in years, either. Jeremy didn’t even know where his dad was and hadn’t heard from him since he’d gone to college, years ago. For a few years off and on, he’d heard from his dad’s girlfriend rather than his dad, but it had been a long time since that had happened, either. They hadn’t even shown up for his college graduation. Christy had.
The pastor stood in front a huge wooden cross nailed to the wall. Sunlight filtered in, stained by the colored windows. It spilled across the floor and over the cream casket. Closed now, but it had been open earlier so people could pay their respects. It made for a long day, despite how peaceful these last moments of the service were. It all sat heavily on Jeremy’s heart.
He’d cried enough. Time for being sad had passed. Everyone stood to leave and gathered around the back of the church. They would drive in procession to the cemetery. Jeremy had left his car at the motel and rode with Scottie. The rest of the day blurred together in a sad, but hot and sunny afternoon full of tears and whispered condolences.
After the burial, Jeremy shook Scottie’s hand and planned to leave it at that, but the family had other ideas. “Hey! Come out with us. Let’s get a few drinks.” Scottie instigated the rabble-rousing, but his aunt and the girlfriend had no problem joining in.
“I don’t know.”
“We need to toast to Christy.” Aunt Bernie looked to her husband. “Would you take Danelle home?”
“Sure, sure. Y’all go on.” He waved them off. Danelle looked exhausted. She couldn’t have been more than thirteen or fourteen and the emotional day showed on her face.
“Come on then. It’s settled.” Aunt Bernie grabbed Jeremy’s arm, leading him out to their vehicles.
Jeremy rode to the bar with Scottie and his girlfriend. Jeremy finally remembered her name, Tabatha, but Scottie kept calling her Tabby or Kitty. So, he’d been confused.
They ended up at a local dive that Jeremy would never have gone to himself. As a bartender, he didn’t like to go out often. He preferred to be behind the bar, but he didn’t put up much of a fight when they lined up a few tequila shots.
The drinks settled into Jeremy’s bloodstream, making him feel loose and warm. The alcohol had him buzzing, but not enough to get him stinkin’ drunk, though if he stopped. He sipped on a beer as the others laughed over memories. Someone ordered greasy bar food at some point, and the laughter subsided only with mouths stuffed full of fries and cheese sticks and jalapeno poppers.
Aunt Bernie laughed loudest and had the most stories to tell. She laughed at having been the nerdiest of the three sisters. She had been into reading and school work and actually liked math. In the middle of her story, she sighed heavily. “No one took me seriously because I was a girl. Fuck that. Even then I had some rebellion in me. I set my mind to finding a husband instead of going to college. I should have gone to school instead for how all that turned out.”
Scottie groaned. “Hey, you might not have me, then.”
Bernie patted him on the arm. “You were about the only good thing to come out of it.”
“Thanks, mom. Let’s get another round of shots.”
His girlfriend, Tabatha leaned into his side with a smile. “Maybe something a little less potent?”
“Fine,” he said and kissed her forehead, then headed to the bar.
Bernie watched him walk away and then turned back to Jeremy. “Well, Christy went to college. For a while, anyway. She never finished because she ran off with some band. Always the wild one. Not like your mom, Jeremy. No, your mom was shy. Sweet and always the peacemaker of the house. I was sure Maria would do well until she took up with your dad. No offense.”
“None taken. I know my dad.”
“Well, he ruined her. That’s for sure.” Bernie took another sip of her fancy fruity drink, gulping it too fast. “Dickhead. Well, maybe it was a good thing she died young. He was—”
“Mom! Oh my god,” Scottie interrupted, setting the four shot glasses on the table. “Can’t leave you alone for half a minute.”
Jeremy chuckled a little. He understood how his dad was. He’d been shitty. Aunt Christy had made a point of showing up unannounced at their house to make sure the bastard hadn’t killed him or starved him to death or something. At the beginning of every school year, she popped in and took him school shopping. She knew his dad, Brian, wouldn’t ever do it. Jeremy loved her for it. Loved her laughter and how she never made him feel pitiful for all the things she did for him. Jeremy’s mother would have wanted Aunt Christy to do it. He missed her. He didn’t miss Brian at all. “It's alright. My dad's...well, we all know he’s a dickhead. I can't change that.”
“How is the ol' redneck anyway? What's he up to these days?” Bernie asked, though she didn’t seem like she was terribly interested unless he told her he’d died or something.
“Don't know. I don’t associate with him, anymore.”
“Well, that's just as well. You're better off.” She raised her glass up in the air as if to salute him.
Scottie managed a dramatic face-palm before leaning into Jeremy’s side. “Sorry dude, she gets chatty when she's had too much to drink and doesn't know what she's saying.”
“The hell I do. I know what I’m sayin’. I love Jeremy, and I miss Maria terribly, but that asshole father of his—”
“Shut up, mom.” Scottie put his hand on her arm, hushing her.
“It's fine. She's not wrong.” Jeremy couldn’t defend his father. Hell, especially not to Aunt Bernie. She’d known him better than Jeremy ever did.
“Okay. Let’s do these shots already.” Scottie pushed the glasses across the beaten up table to him
and Tabatha, and they lifted them up.
Aunt Bernie smiled. “To Christy. May she rest in peace.”
They all echoed her toast and drank the shots.
“She’s gone on now to meet your mom, Jeremy. It’s all for the best. I’ll be joining them soon enough.”
“Shut up, Mom.”
Four – Jeremy
After the will had been read, Jeremy checked out of his motel and moved into Christy’s condo in Jacksonville. She had left it to him and Scottie equally, but his cousin already lived in town, so it made sense for Jeremy to move in. Temporarily.
It wasn’t the best neighborhood, but it wasn’t the worst. The highway was close by so he could jump on it to get to the better beaches farther south, or even Miami. Or to head back to Clearwater.
The little apartment was exactly as Christy had left it. The condo looked as if she’d walked out one day and never came back. From what Scottie said, that was essentially what happened. She went to the hospital and died there without returning home. There was food in the fridge and a few dirty dishes in the sink. A bit of dust accumulated on the knickknacks in the living room, each carefully placed by her hands. He wanted to leave it all exactly like it was, intact, as a living monument. “Doing nothing is still an action,” he whispered under his breath as he looked around.
He’d told Bernie and Scottie that they could come later and help him go through everything and take whatever they wanted. Ultimately, they had to figure out what to do with it all. They couldn’t leave it, despite his own selfish desires. They would probably end up selling the condo and splitting the money. For now, Jeremy pulled out the makings of a turkey sandwich, since the perishable food needed to be eaten. His stomach growled its agreement.
Hours later, he made his way to the first floor to check out the pool. The sun sparkled across the water where a few kids splashed around. Adults lounged in chairs, worshiping the rays. Chlorine and suntan lotion permeated the air. It was your average, typical community pool.
Time for Love Page 2
