by Don Easton
“I’ll be okay. Maybe some bruised ribs. I’ve got some notes I need to make.”
“Can’t that wait?”
“No. I’ve got some important stuff I need to quote word for word. First, though, I want to check on one of the guys out there,” he said, gesturing to the outside of the cubicle.
The clean-cut man was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. Blood dripped off his chin from an open wound on the bridge of his nose. More blood coagulating in his hair indicated he had another head wound. One of Wilson’s men was putting handcuffs on him.
“Hey, Wes, you okay?” Jack asked him.
“I’ll live.”
Jack’s voice was solemn. “Thanks for trying to save my life.”
“Yeah, well … if I wasn’t cuffed, I’d shake your hand and thank you.”
“For what?” Jack asked, glancing up at several uniformed officers entering the men’s room. “You’re going to jail.”
Wes gave a wry smile. “Won’t be much different from where I work now, except I’ll be lookin’ at the bars from the other side.” His face grew serious. “No, I mean it. I’ve been wanting out for a long time … but couldn’t see a way. I wish I’d never gotten into doing what I was doing.”
“Then why did you?” Jack asked.
Wes swallowed. “Over time … I got more and more scared of these guys.” When Jack made no response, he continued, “After I got married and had kids, I got really scared. It started off with me slipping them the odd joint or gram of hash. In my mind, I hoped they’d never hurt me if things went sideways.” He swallowed again. “It kind of progressed from there.” He shook his head, perhaps in self-recrimination. “They had me by the balls.” He glanced at the other prisoners. “Now I can say I’m finally out. I got you to thank for that.”
“Might be a couple of years before you can really say you’re out,” Jack pointed out. “I’ll be testifying against you — but I’ll also tell how you tried to save me.”
“Won’t be a trial,” Wes replied. “I’ll cop to it first chance I get. I’m guilty. Nobody knows that better than me.”
Jack nodded, patted him on the shoulder, then stood up and approached Wilson.
“Okay, that was interesting,” Wilson said. “Mind telling me what the hell happened?”
“To start with,” Jack replied, “it went really well. I sat and had a beer with Burnside, Richards, and those two.” He pointed to the two men handcuffed on the floor. “The one with the orange hair I know as John Fucking Doe.”
Laura shook her head in wonder. Jack still has his sense of humour. Doesn’t what happened affect him? I’m still shaking. He’s like a bloody rock — literally.
“The other one goes by Derrick,” Jack went on. “Burnside told me how he killed Tom yesterday when he refused to pay protection money and tried to call me. Richards was there, but Burnside did the actual murder. Then the four of them talked about being in the protection racket. After that Burnside went over to talk to Dole and a couple of her friends.”
“That’s when we were burned,” Laura said. “One of those women was Spider’s sister.”
“Spider?” Wilson asked.
“An old case,” Laura explained. “Years ago we did a UC sting and put Spider away for murder. I suspect his sister saw us at the trial.”
“So that’s what happened,” Jack said. “I thought enough years had passed. The sister must be the kind to hold a grudge, and all the drugs she’s no doubt used don’t seem to have affected her memory.”
Wilson eyed Jack. “Apparently not. Perhaps hatred hones the memory.”
Jack continued, “When Burnside was talking to the hookers, Wes arrived and joined them. Right after that, Burnside came back to our table and told me he wanted to search me for a wire.”
“After he’d already confessed to you?” Wilson questioned.
“Yup. He told me Wes was their inside man and that he was paranoid and wanted the search done. So I went to the men’s room with John Fucking Doe, who didn’t know what was going on until the fracas started.”
Fracas? Jack, a bunch of guys tried to kill you. That’s more than a fracas.
“Burnside, Richards, and Derrick came in about a minute later,” Jack said. “Derrick searched me, then Richards tried to distract me so Burnside could clobber me over the head with his gun. Wes tried to stop him and got clobbered himself.”
“So Wes only wanted you searched for a wire?” Wilson asked.
“I don’t know if he even wanted that. I’m sure he’ll tell you once you interview him.”
“Then what happened?” Wilson asked.
Jack shared all the details, then finished by looking at Laura and saying, “You saved my life.”
“So what else is new?” she replied in an attempt at humour.
Jack turned back to Wilson. “After that, you saved my ass from Burnside. I was exhausted. I wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”
Laura saw Jack swallow nervously. So you do get scared. Good, after what you put me through, I’m glad.
“Yeah, well, that’s typical,” Wilson said. He, too, made a half-hearted attempt at humour. “We’re always being called in to save you Mounties over one thing or another.”
“After we solve the case for you,” Jack retorted.
“No denying that,” Wilson said. “Without any fatalities, either. I’m impressed.”
Jack ignored the sarcasm. “So that’s it in a nutshell. You can get the finer details later. I need to get back to your office and make notes on this ASAP. You might want to read them before doing interviews.”
Wilson nodded. “Thanks, you two,” he said seriously. “I owe you one.”
“Just keep the press away from us and make sure Mortimer doesn’t find out,” Jack said. “At least not any time soon.”
“No worries,” Wilson said assuredly.
Laura was still holding Richard’s knife in her fingertips. “You’ll want this.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Wilson replied. “Laura, better make a note of the time and date you gave it to me for court. As we’re doing that, I wouldn’t mind hearing what happened in the bar after you called for help.”
Laura dug out her notebook, then said, “Spider’s sister and then Dole jumped me once I did.”
“I wondered what was taking you so long,” Jack put in. “I thought maybe you were doing your nails or something.”
“Maybe next time I will be.” Laura waited a beat. “As far as today goes, it took me a moment to teach them that you shouldn’t obstruct justice.”
A uniformed officer cleared his throat. “The two you taught … one has a broken arm.”
“It wasn’t broken when she whacked me on the back of my head with a beer bottle,” Laura replied. She glanced at Jack. “Spider’s sister,” she explained.
The officer continued, “The other one who’s got her eyeball hanging out of the socket —”
“That’s Dole. She jumped on my back.”
“Guess you weren’t doing your nails,” Jack muttered.
“Some people might think your methods are a little harsh,” the officer noted.
“Some people weren’t there,” Laura said. Or if they were there, wouldn’t understand how a split second can mean the difference between life and death.
Laura then wrote down the time and date of when she’d given Wilson the knife. When done, she saw Jack staring at the cubicles. Thinking about how lucky you are to be alive, Jack? I hope so. Hope you think about it long and hard, because quite frankly, I’ve had enough.
Chapter Forty-Four
Jack walked out of the men’s room with Laura and saw the paramedics arriving to assist Lorraine Dole, who lay on the floor holding her eyeball to its socket with her fingertips.
“Over here!” Alice wailed at the paramedics from a nearby chair. “
My arm’s broken. I need something. Got any Oxy?”
Jack paused to view the situation and saw a uniformed officer glance at Laura, then give her a thumbs-up.
“Looks like some people agree with your methods of teaching,” Jack said, while eyeing an old man approaching them.
“Like I said, you had to be —”
The old man tapped Laura on her shoulder and she spun around with her fists cocked. It was apparent she thought she was in mortal danger.
“Sorry to scare you, ma’am,” the man said, stepping back. “This is yours.” He was holding out the woollen cap she’d been wearing earlier.
“Uh … thanks.” Laura took the cap, then said, “Sorry, I never did get around to buying you a beer.”
“That’s okay. I could see you were busy.” As he strolled away he looked back and added, “Maybe next time, sweetie.”
Normally Jack would have found the incident amusing, but Laura was acting hypervigilant — a common sign of post-traumatic stress disorder. I’ve put her through so much shit over the years. Then this. What if it’d been worse? She could’ve been knifed in the back. He glanced around at the faces in the bar. Not many were as friendly as the old man’s. I really screwed up.
“Hey, he thinks I’m a sweetie,” Laura said as they headed toward the exit.
Jack saw her smile, but could tell it was fake. She’s embarrassed for overreacting.
“I better warn my hubby,” she continued. “He might have competition.”
Who the hell wouldn’t react that way after what she’d been through? No wonder she wants a transfer.
“What? Not even a smile?” Laura asked.
Somewhere in his conscious mind he’d heard Laura, but it didn’t really register.
“Jack, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not,” he admitted. “I screwed up.” He paused as he looked at her. “You could’ve been killed. I should never have put you in here alone.”
“I wasn’t alone. You were in here, too.”
“Yeah … right. A lot of good I did. I wasn’t there when you needed help.”
Laura looked disgusted. “You really mean it, don’t you?”
“Of course I mean it. You could’ve been knifed.”
“I could have been knifed,” Laura repeated, as if contemplating the possibility for the first time.
Jack found her attitude irritating. “Don’t pretend you didn’t already think about it. I saw how you overreacted to that old guy.”
“Who wouldn’t be nervous?” she snapped. “This place is a —”
“I’m not criticizing. I’m just worried about you.”
“You’re worried about me?” Laura shoved the door open and stepped out onto the sidewalk, then turned to face him.
Uh-oh. She’s got her hands on her hips. She’s really pissed off.
“You jerk!”
Yup, she’s pissed off.
“After what you put me through in there you have the nerve to say you worry about me? I handled it! You’re the one who needed rescuing!”
“Oh … that. I’m not saying I don’t appreciate what you went through in there.”
“You mean what I’m always going through with you.”
“Yes, exactly. Which is why I worry. It’s bound to affect you. It would anyone.”
“Maybe you should spend more time worrying about yourself,” she shot back.
“I do. I’d be dead if you hadn’t been there.”
“Exactly! Thanks a lot,” she replied crossly.
“What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Forget it.”
“I’ve been married long enough to know that when a woman says ‘nothing’ it always means something. What is it?”
He saw Laura clench her jaw.
He reached for her shoulder to give her a friendly squeeze in the hope of getting her to open up, but she brushed his arm aside and strode away. Okay, I’ll wait until you cool down.
When they reached the car, Jack got in the passenger seat. He stared at the hotel as Laura drove past and his brain replayed the image of the death grip he’d had on the pistol — and his futile attempt to wrestle it out of Burnside’s hand.
“Neither of us had to be in there,” Laura said flatly. “We should’ve left it for the Vancouver police to investigate.”
“Are you forgetting that Tom befriended me?” Jack replied. “Not to mention, it was my business card that was shoved down his throat.”
The anger on Laura’s face melted away and she looked glum. “Yeah, I know,” she eventually replied.
“I also told him to stand up for himself and call the police. My advice got him killed. Would you have let that go?”
Laura sighed. “No, I guess not.”
A few blocks later Laura stopped for a red light and he saw her staring at him. “What?” he asked.
“Come Monday you can’t go into our office looking like that. You’ve already got a shiner and by the looks of your eye, it’ll take a few days for the swelling to go down. If Mortimer saw you it’d be hard to convince him you were beat up in French class.”
Jack nodded. “Right,” he mumbled. He was glad when the light changed and Laura focused her attention back on the road. Her comment about his face made him feel agitated. Perhaps because it brought another image to mind. That of being pinned to the bathroom floor with Richard’s determined face leering down at him — and the knife flashing toward his throat. His hand gave an involuntary jerk as he relived the panic he’d felt. I almost died.
“I think I could use a few days to recover, as well,” Laura said next.
How would Natasha and the boys get along if I were dead? Guess they wouldn’t have to worry about bad guys photographing them. Damn it, my hands are shaking. Make fists. Try to stop it before she sees.
Laura glanced at him. “Jack, you’re shaking … all over.”
This is embarrassing. “Yeah, bloody cold today.” He reached to turn on the heat, but his fingers fumbled with the controls.
Laura nudged his hand aside and did it for him. “It isn’t that cold,” she said. “You’re going into shock.”
“Me? Don’t be silly. I’m okay. It’s nothing.” Time to change the subject. “We’ll take a couple of days off so I can avoid the office. I’ll leave a message for Rose. Then … then I’ll tell her we’ll be out doing surveillance or something. This is Saturday. Maybe not work until Wednesday.”
The car slowed and pulled over to the curb. He looked at her. “Why’re you stopping?”
Laura reached for his forearm. “Okay, tough guy, listen to me. You’re going into shock. You’re talking really fast and your voice sounds like your shorts are too tight.”
“No, really, I’m okay.”
“Listen to me! No, you’re not!” She stared intently at his face. When he didn’t respond she continued, “This is me you’re talking to. I’ve been there. Last time I got the shakes was at the farmhouse. They went away after a bit, but a few hours later they came back. I ended up bawling my eyes out in the women’s washroom.” She paused to give a reassuring smile. “That’s not a choice for you. After what happened today, I don’t trust you to stay out of trouble in a washroom.”
Jack knew her attempt at humour was to calm him, but he wasn’t ready to admit she was right. “The bathroom floor was cold.” He folded his arms over his chest and squeezed to try to stop the trembling. “I was stuck between the toilet and —”
“Quit lying to me,” Laura said. “It’s disrespectful.”
Jack was silent for a moment. “Yeah, okay. Guess it did shake me up a bit.”
“Shake you up a bit?” Laura questioned. “You were scared for your life!” Her words sounded like an accusation.
“Okay … I was scared.”
“And yo
u told me you’d be dead if I hadn’t come in to save you.” She sounded bitter and angry.
“Uh, yeah.”
“So how the hell do you think that’ll make me feel?”
“Feel?”
“When this is over and I transfer out?”
“What are you talking about?”
“When I leave and you get killed!”
“You mean, if I was to get killed,” Jack replied.
Laura literally spit the words out. “No, I mean when, not if ! You’ll never be happy doing anything else! You’re not going to stop!”
Jack stared back. Her eyes had welled and a fleck of spittle clung to her chin. She seems angry, frustrated, and scared all at the same time. What the hell do I say?
Laura’s eyes searched his. “Who else knows you as well as I do in these situations? Who would you trust if I wasn’t there? Someone else would probably act prematurely and blow an investigation.” She glared. “Of course, you’d already know that, which means you’d start working alone! It’s only a matter of time till …”
I prefer not to think about that. “I appreciate your concern, I really do.” He reached for her hand, half expecting her to pull back. He was surprised she didn’t and gave it a squeeze, then held it. “Nobody knows what the future will bring, but whatever happens to me won’t be your fault. You have your own life to live.” He released his grip, but she held on.
“Don’t you see?” she said. “Your life is my life. I love you. I can’t walk away.”
“You love me?” Jack swallowed. “But I love Natasha.”
Laura threw his hand away. “You asshole. Not like that. More like you’re my kid.”
Now I really feel stupid. He realized his concern for Laura had caused his body to stop trembling. At least for the moment.
He’d experienced tremors before. When you’re busy you don’t have time to think about yourself and question the what-ifs. It was usually the quiet times, when you should be relaxed or sleeping, that your mind played havoc with your nerves.
“Nothing to say?” Laura prodded.
Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “You don’t have any kids. If you’re going to think of me like that, I’d prefer you think of me as your bigger older brother.”
