Bad Idea: Stonewall Investigations - Miami

by Walker, Max

  “List them,” I said, smirking as I leaned back in the comfortable wicker chair. “Go ahead, what do you like to do on your spare time? We’ve got people watching and cars.”

  Jonah took a drink of his mojito and leaned back in the chair. The table next to us burst into laughter from an apparently funny joke, but my attention was fully on Jonah, who somehow got more and more handsome the longer you looked at him.

  “All right,” he said. “Besides those two things, I really like going to the theatre. Plays, Broadway shows, off-off-offfff-Broadway shows. Whatever the size or the venue, I love a good play. I love the immediacy of it. The fact that you’re sitting there in a crowd of other souls, taking in this piece of live art. Something that’ll never be exactly the same again because of the intense human element to it.” He bit his lip, something I noticed he did frequently. “It started with my little brother. He was obsessed with Wicked and dragged the entire family to go watch it. We came out of that show as full theatre believers. Patrons of the art, if you will.” He cocked his head, lifted his glass.

  And I laughed. Something I was doing a shit ton of with Jonah around.

  “I’m impressed,” I replied, my forehead creasing and my head nodding.

  “Why’s that? Didn’t take me for a theatre guy?”

  “Well, no, I just thought you were going to say your other hobbies were playing with building blocks and learning how to color inside the lines.”

  Jonah released a surprised scoff, which morphed into a long bout of laughter. “You’re a dick, Fox. You’re a fucking dick, you know that?”

  I shrugged and smiled and drank.

  And I fell hard for the straight guy sitting across from me.

  “So what’s your favorite show?” I asked when the laughing died down.

  “My favorite show?” Jonah put a hand on his chin, other hand on the table. I couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were. How big those fingers were.

  For a second, I imagined those big hands roaming over my body, slipping under my briefs, grabbing and fondling and stroking.

  “I’d have to say…” he answered, completely unaware of the explicit fantasy I was painting in my head. It was so vivid, too, the image of Jonah’s hands down my pants. I could feel myself getting hard under the table. “Hmm, Sesame Street?”

  It was my turn to be caught off guard. Thankfully I wasn’t drinking anything because a spit-take would have definitely occurred. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “At least I’m not a dick,” he said triumphantly, smiling.

  “You’re a ridiculous dick, that’s what you are.”

  “No, no. You’re confused. See, I have a ridiculous dick, but I’m not a ridiculous dick… Seriously, it’s fucking huge.” Jonah put his hands up in the air, plenty of space between them, and nodded before he started to laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”

  “Oh?”

  “Well, not about my size. I’m… well, you know…. It’s just… I’m just… uh… you’re a dick.”

  We were smiling. I found myself having to pull back. I was loving this time with Jonah a little too much. “I’m sure you’re packing some Miami heat.” I winked and took a big sip of the white wine, the glass glistening with drops of moisture.

  So much for pulling back.

  “Anyways,” Jonah said, still smiling. “Back to my favorite show… um… I’d say Wicked has a special place in my heart. I can also see Dear Evan Hansen about a thousand times and never get tired of it.”

  “I’ve never seen either of those,” I admitted. As I suspected would happen, Jonah’s jaw dropped.

  “What? Seriously? Oh, man, we’ve gotta go to one sometime. A lot of the big shows come to Miami. I think Aladdin is playing at the Arsht Center for the next few months. I’ll see if I can get us tickets.”

  “That’d be really nice,” I said, acutely aware of how date-like going to the theatre was. But at the same time, I could see how two platonic friends could go watch a play and enjoy their day without ever getting each other’s dicks in their mouths.

  Although… I mean, if his “ridiculous dick” found its way between my lips, I don’t think I’d complain either…

  The waiter came around and brought our main courses, steering my thoughts away from sucking Jonah off to sucking the juicy crab meat out of the almost-intimidating crab legs now sitting in front of me. He practically went face first into his steak, his facial expressions saying it was possibly the best steak he’d ever had. He let me try a piece, and I could confirm wholeheartedly it was a really good fucking steak.

  I figured now would be a good time to talk about the case. This was a pseudo-business meeting after all. “So, you got any thoughts on the Dragon situation so far?”

  Jonah swallowed a mouthful of steak. “I’ve got a lot of thoughts on it. All of them are crap, though. Still need some more time to wrap my head around the entire situation.”

  “It’s a lot to take in. I almost feel like your interview happened months ago. I forget it was only this morning.”

  “Crazy. Completely crazy.” Jonah’s eyes were bright, reflecting some of the candlelight that flickered on the table between us. It wasn’t a dimly lit spot by any means, but the orange flame still stood bright against those light blue orbs, dancing in my reflection.

  He blinked, then looked away. A spell had been cast, not broken.

  “We’ll stop it, though.” He kept his eyes on his steak, while I began to picture an entirely different kind of meat. “This Dragon bullshit. Once we get camera footage, we should be another step ahead. And that meeting with the dealer should be another step in the right direction. I’ll start canvassing the area and seeing if there have been any suspicious activities spotted. They have to be hiding a lab somewhere around here.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “When we have a name and solid proof, we can pass it on to the DEA for the full takedown. Just have to nail the motherfucker first.”

  “Right, gotta nail him.” He smirked, took a drink. “I’m thinking of interviewing doctors and nurses first. Figure out what they’ve seen come through the hospital.”

  Jonah was making me more and more sure of my decision to hire him on the spot. I nodded. “And I’ll work the contacts I’ve been able to build. There’s a hacker I want to talk to, a complete wizard on the keyboard. I’m sure I’ll be able to get something valuable in there. Plus there’s the wordsmith of a drug dealer, Mr. Dank, that we’ve still got to meet with. I think that’ll be a good way in.”

  “We’ve got this,” Jonah said, that sexy smirk still on his face.

  “Yeah, I think we do.”

  I was feeling good. Overall, the entire day had gone really fucking well. Not only was Stonewall full up on detectives, but I had hired someone who seemed like a genuinely good addition to the team. Someone I felt I’d never grow tired of seeing, which was good because I’d be seeing Jonah quite a lot now. Our jobs weren’t exactly nine-to-five desk jobs where we’d be sitting next to each other all day, and when we finished up on this Dragon case and started working separate cases, then our paths would cross a little less… but I still had a feeling I’d be seeing a lot of him.

  By the time dessert came around, our bellies were close to being full and our night felt nowhere near ending. We were talking about our mutual love-hate relationship with singing competitions. I loved music and loved watching the shows, but hated how none ever seemed to really break out, even the winners. Jonah, on the other hand, revealed he’s actually a decent singer.

  “I usually watch them because I like to imagine myself up on that stage. Rocking out and shit.” He drank from his—I think it was his fourth?—mojito.

  “So you’re a singer, you take care of animals, you work on cars, and your job is to help people. Not to mention you’re a handsome motherfucker. Does your girlfriend carry you around in a glass box and show you off to anyone she can?”

  Jonah laughed at that and looked out to the street, his eyes seeming to have a hard time fi
nding a spot to land. “Nah, she kind of lives in her own world. I don’t think she even knows what job I went to go interview for.”

  “Oh,” I said, nodding, surprised. “How long have you guys been together?”

  “Four years now. We started dating around the same time I was graduating from the police academy. Met her at a bookstore.”

  “That sounds pretty romantic,” I offered, sensing some kind of tension rise when Jonah talked about his girlfriend.

  “It was. I guess.” Another drink. His eyes drifted from the street and back to me. There was a storm in them that rocked with lightning, and I wanted to walk right into the center of it. “Our relationship’s been a little rocky… and it’s getting rockier if I’m being honest with you. I don’t know what’s causing it, or why now. I don’t know if I’m doing something or if she is… Both of us are, probably. She’s my first girlfriend, so I’ve really got zero experience, and I feel like I somehow messed up at some point along the road.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I said. Jonah dug a spoon into the bowl of fresh fruit and ice cream we had ordered for the two of us while I spoke. “I’m not saying I know everything about relationships, but I know that when they aren’t working, it’s usually because of both parties involved, so don’t pin it all on yourself. I definitely don’t know anything about dating women, but I highly doubt you’re doing something wrong. Have you guys considered some kind of counseling?”

  Jonah looked at me, his eyes scanning my face. He didn’t answer.

  “Huh?” he asked, seeming to come to from whatever he was thinking. “Oh, counseling? No, no. I don’t… no.”

  “You don’t what?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” Jonah speared a pineapple and put it in his mouth, some of the vanilla ice cream dripping down his lip before he wiped it away.

  “Didn’t sound like nothing…” I was like a dog with a favorite chew toy, and I wasn’t going to let it go.

  Jonah must have figured. “I was going to say, ‘I don’t think it’s salvageable.’ But I’ve never really faced that fact before, so…” He sighed. “Shit.”

  “That bad?”

  “The spark is gone. Totally dead. It’s not like we fight—we don’t even care enough to fight. It sucks. It really, really does.”

  Damn, Jonah really did seem like he was in a bad spot. I could see the stress from this weigh down his shoulders, almost like a physical force.

  “And we’ve been together four years now. She’s pretty much all I know. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without her.”

  Better?

  I bit my tongue. Now was not the time.

  “Maybe you don’t have to imagine it. Maybe it can be fixed.” I tried staying on the positive side. It was a survival mechanism I had developed during my deployment. Always think of the positive, even if mortar shells and hellfire are raining down on you from the heavens. Think of the positive and, somehow, you always keep moving. As soon as you focus on the negative, you trip and stumble and you die.

  “Maybe,” Jonah said. “Speaking of the disattached devil.” His phone started to ring, the tone breaking through the music that was playing from the overhead speakers. He pulled his phone out and put it on the table, the name Wendy Powell on the screen.

  “You want to answer?”

  “No,” he said, silencing the call so it stopped ringing. “That’s rude.” He smirked at me and put the phone back in his pocket. “How about you? What’s your dating life consist of, Mr. Smooth and Smoldering Detective?”

  I matched his smile. Part of me wondered if he’d catch shit for ignoring her call; another part of me couldn’t give two royal fucks as long as it meant more time with Jonah. “Smooth and smoldering, huh?”

  Jonah laughed, his cheeks getting rosy. “I’ve been reading a lot of romances lately.”

  “Oh my God.” I was shaking my head. “And you read romance novels? Jesus, Jonah. You’re a catch on anyone’s Kinsey scale! Wendy better wake the fuck up, because you’re almost sounding a little too good to be true.”

  By then, the alcohol was working its magic on us. I could see it in the after-hours glow on Jonah’s face, and I could feel it through the slight numbness at the tip of my fingers and toes.

  The alcohol was also annihilating my filter, and that was dangerous.

  “I got hooked when my little brother told me to check one out,” Jonah explained. “I’m a big reader, and I switch between romance and fantasy, depending on my mood. I read a ton when I was confined to the hospital bed.” For a flash of a moment the mood dampened as I envisioned Jonah hurt and helpless, but that mood was quickly pushed aside by the big smile on his face, reassuring me that it was all okay. “I know, I know. You’re probably thinking I’m the first baby you’ve ever met functioning at a high-school-reading level.”

  That caught me by surprise, and this time I had been drinking. It resulted in a spray of alcohol. Jonah was sitting in the splash zone, getting the brunt of it.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry,” I said, apologizing and laughing as I got up with a napkin and went over to his side. I started to clean off Jonah’s shirt—thankfully there were no stains—and then softly cleaned his neck. And some was on his chin. And his cheeks. And then I realized I was standing next to him, while he sat, his face around level with my crotch, his head tilted up at me and his eyes on mine. Something in them seemed to reach out to me, like he was attempting to pull me in with his stare.

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

  Instead of fumbling for them, I went back to my seat. “Sorry,” I said again. Jonah was chuckling, his tongue stretching to the side of his lips where there was still a drop of alcohol.

  “It’s okay,” he said, “I’d been wanting to try your drink for a while. Guess I should have just asked instead of willed you to spit it onto my face.”

  Another laugh, both of us at a complete ease. “It’s a mango martini. It’s good.”

  “Very,” Jonah said, nodding, his eyes practically glowing. “So, before you conveniently distracted me… I was asking about your dating life.”

  “Ah, that’s right.” I set the drink down on the table. “Smooth and smoldering, I think you said?”

  “I might have.”

  “Well, after today, you’re also a smooth and smoldering detective,” I pointed out. Jonah smiled, that blush on his face. He took another drink.

  “Your dating life?” he reiterated when he put his glass down.

  “Right, right. My dating life is, how can I describe it… um, let’s see. A mess? Fucked-up beyond all repair? I’m kind of lone-wolfing life at this point. I’ve dated a couple of guys long-term, and by long-term I’m talking three months tops, but no one’s ever been able to keep things rolling with me. I’ve got no idea why, but I’m okay with it. I didn’t exactly have the picture-perfect family life growing up, and I think that’s kept me from settling for any guy with a dick who walks into my life. I know very well how wrong relationships can go.” It was my turn to look out at the street, full of passers-by and only getting fuller, even as the night grew longer. Clubs in Miami didn’t close until something like six in the morning, so the streets would probably never be empty.

  “All right, I’ll counter you there.” He was grinning like someone who had gotten the upper hand in a duel. “Haven’t you thought about the flip side? About how amazing relationships can go?”

  “Yeah, the good ones,” I said, a bitter acid in my bite.

  “Obviously. I’m not saying go out and put a ring on the first dude you see. But… I don’t know. I’m a big romantic, obviously. I think there’s someone out there for everyone, as naïve and dumb as it sounds. You should keep your eyes open. Date with the intent of finding something, not somebody.”

  Wow, Jonah wasn’t lying when he said he read a ton with phrases like those in his repertoire. “And you?” I asked.

  “Me what?”

  I cocked my head. “Did you find your one? In Wendy?” />
  “I… I don’t think I have, no.” He looked at me then, something different in those crystalline blue eyes of his. “I haven’t found that person yet, no.”

  “Well,” I said, smirking. “Keep your eyes open.”

  “And on my girlfriend?” His forehead wrinkled, lips thinned. “I don’t know… I’m going to have to talk to her. Maybe there is something we can work on. Something that’ll revive that dead spark of ours.”

  With the way Jonah spoke about his girlfriend, I couldn’t help but wonder if the spark was ever alive to begin with.

  We talked some more about Wendy before Jonah switched topics. He tried digging a little into my history, but I was much more interested in learning about him than sharing about me. There was an impenetrable wall put up around me when it came to my family and the past I had endured with them, and it was a wall that had been constructed for good reason. I wasn’t always so guarded, but after being burned bad once before, I had learned it was best to keep as much of myself to myself as I could.

  Jonah seemed to have picked up on my discomfort. He changed topics to a recent superhero movie, and we chatted some more about our mutual love for the X-Men comics. After deciding on our favorite members of the team (mine was Iceman; his was Psylocke) and talking about hypothetical powers we’d have ourselves (mine was impenetrable skin and his was telekinesis), we decided to wrap up and pay our bill.

  By the time we had walked out of the restaurant and stepped out, the sun was nowhere in sight. Instead, a full moon hung heavy and bright in the star-dotted night sky. We walked over to the corner, moving away from the crowd of people still waiting to dine at the restaurant.

  “All right, I should be headed home,” Jonah said, his blue eyes looking up into mine. “Listen, man, thanks again. For everything. The job, the case. You really helped me out, and I’m going to make sure you see you made a good choice in me.”

  I wanted to tell him I already knew that. I knew it down to my bone marrow, like a fact as solid as the earth being round.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I waved a hand in the air. “You have a good night, Jonah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”