“Another beer?” asked Sissy as she sashayed past on her way back behind the bar carrying several bottles of booze to restock open spaces on the shelves.
“Sure. I earned it. It was a jungle out there today.”
Twisting the cap off another Landshark, Sissy set it on the bar in front of me. I inquired, “Hey, did Sid say anything about the new dishwasher when he came in today?”
Sissy looked up at me and rolled her eyes, “You'd have thought he won the lotto by the way he was carrying on back there.”
“Where is he anyway? I didn’t see him when I dropped off those extra tomatoes Juan had me pick up.”
With the hint of a cloud passing across her face Sissy replied, “He had an appointment with his probation agent.”
“Anything wrong or just routine?” I knew that Sissy would know if Sid was having problems. Every man in the place, excluding yours truly, confided their troubles in her.
“Nothing wrong. Just routine. Sid hasn’t screwed up in over three years now.”
I said, “I hope that’s the case. He’s been given a second chance and he better follow the rules this time.”
Sissy frowned at me the way she does when she doesn’t agree, “Jack, you are such a hard ass. Sometimes it’s not as easy to follow the rules as you think.”
“I didn’t say it was easy. If it was easy we wouldn’t need rules because everyone would just naturally do what’s right. There are far too many shades of gray in today’s world. Everyone is looking to morph the black and white into gray. Just buck up and do what’s required.”
Sissy took a step back and raised her hands in mock praise, “Ah, thank you Reverend Nolan. It must be comforting to all of those married women you chase around with to know that you are not breaking any rules.”
Before I could defend myself, a couple obviously trying to evade the latest downpour, burst in through the back door at the other end of the bar. He was a big guy wearing a white shirt with a necktie loosened around his neck and ill-fitting dark gray slacks. Even if I had not seen the badge and gun on his belt I would have bet he was a cop. Some cops just look like cops.
His partner, the female, on the other hand looked like a cop only because she was trying so hard to look like a cop. It certainly didn’t come natural to her. She wore a dark blue pantsuit and sensible flat heeled shoes. She was wearing the jacket to her suit. Obviously, she was self-conscious about something. It was probably the badge and gun she wore. Of course, it could have been the ample pair of breasts she brought with her that she may have been attempting to conceal. If so, she was failing at the attempt.
Sissy made her way to the other end of the bar where they were standing. I couldn’t hear much of what was being said, but it was obvious from the body language that Sissy knew the woman. They shook hands warmly and looked like they would have hugged if they hadn’t been on opposite sides of the bar. I found that interesting and maybe just a bit disheartening.
After a few words of conversation, Sissy nodded in my direction and the big guy started down the bar toward me while the woman remained engaged in what appeared to be warm conversation with Sissy.
When he reached me, he stuck out his beefy hand and said, “Hello, I’m Detective Donovan with Hollywood PD.”
“Jack Nolan. How can I help you Detective?” His handshake wasn’t crushing, but it was certainly firm. A man accustomed to being in charge.
“My partner and I are investigating a homicide that happened a couple of blocks up the street last Tuesday. We were interested to see any exterior security camera video you might have from that period.”
I grimaced and replied, “Unfortunately, the security camera system on the outside hasn’t worked in over a year. I keep intending to get it repaired, but you know how that goes.”
He shrugged, “Sure do. By the way, how long you owned the bar? Sissy said you’re the owner.”
I reflected a moment, “Couple of years now. Belonged to my Uncle Mickey and I inherited it from him.”
“I remember Mickey. I came in a few times when he first opened. Word got around that he was a retired cop and most of the guys checked the place out,” mused Detective Donovan.
“Why did you stop coming in? If you don’t mind me asking?” I inquired.
“Oh, nothing about the place. It just isn’t on my normal route home and it’s a pain to cross the intracoastal with the drawbridges and the beach traffic,” replied Detective Donovan.
I considered his comment. “I guess we’re not really unique enough to be a destination bar,” I chuckled.
“Well, I like this type of place just fine, it just isn’t convenient. In all honesty, the young guys are probably looking for a little more action. If you know what I mean,” he said raising his eyebrows.
Looking toward the other end of the bar where Sissy and the female cop were engaged in animated conversation I asked, “Your partner seems to know Sissy quite well. I don’t remember seeing her in here before. Are they old friends?”
Turning toward the two women, “I guess they became friends a few years ago when P J, I mean Detective Johnson, was assigned to protect Sissy during a trial in which she testified against a Russian mobster.”
“Wow, I didn’t know that Sissy had testified in a mob case,” I blurted out with unconcealed admiration in my voice. My experience as a prosecutor had acquainted me with the stress testifying in a criminal trial imposes on civilian witnesses. It was bad enough in the run-of-the- mill criminal case, but when you got into high profile real bad guys the stress could be paralyzing.
Detective Donovan turned his attention back toward me, “Oh, it was the real deal. Stone cold killer who was making quite a name for himself in the streets of South Florida. Drugs, girls, cargo hijacking, all the regular stuff. Several departments were looking at him for murder but we were the first one to really make a case. He iced a small time bookie who was late on a loan payment to make an example of him.”
“How did Sissy fit into all of this?”
Cocking his head to one side Donovan continued, “We had a solid circumstantial case, but the slime ball’s alibi was that he was at the Back Room in Lauderdale with several of his guys. Probably would have carried the day, even though they were obviously slime balls too, if it hadn’t been for Sissy. She recalled, and testified, that he had been in a dark mood but left for about an hour at ten and when he returned he was obviously in a much better mood. He made a point of starting conversations and buying drinks for everyone sitting in the area of his table.”
“Perfecting the alibi,” I reflected.
“You got it,” continued Detective Donovan. “Unfortunately for him, those witnesses were all rather fuzzy on the time. They really didn’t know when he arrived, they just recalled his presence. Sissy on the other hand recalled the time with precision because one of the other bartenders had to leave at ten to catch a flight to visit his parents up north. He had been reminding her of it all night and as luck would have it she watched him walk out the door right behind our perp, Yuri.”
“Tight. How did she pin the time he returned?” I asked.
“Another stroke of luck for the good guys. Sissy recalled that one of the regulars at the bar wanted to watch the eleven o’clock news on the television because he’d passed a bad wreck on the turnpike that evening and he wanted to see what happened. She was watching the news with this guy when she saw Yuri return to the bar and begin his celebrating.”
Pausing for a moment while he rubbed his forehead with his left hand, Detective Donovan continued, “Sissy came across as credible and Yuri’s goons didn’t. The other folks at the bar, the ones Yuri chatted up and bought drinks for didn’t hold up under cross examination. They really weren’t certain of the times. He probably shouldn’t have bought them quite so many drinks.”
I looked down the bar at Sissy and reflected that there was more to this woman than I had ever contemplated.
Detective Donovan picked up his recollections, “PJ, ...err, D
etective Johnson was assigned to patrol at the time but they needed a couple of females to cover Sissy twenty-four seven and she was one of them assigned. I guess they just sort of hit it off and have been friends ever since.”
This revelation drove home to me the fact that I really knew very little about Sissy’s life outside of the bar. Are we really friends or do we just work together?
Detective Johnson was walking toward our end of the bar carrying a Coke, “Hope you have this one solved Tim because Sissy and I are talking about going to the beach for the rest of the afternoon.” She stuck her hand out and looked me directly in the eye, “Hi, I’m Detective Johnson, but all of Sissy’s friends call me PJ.” Her handshake was firm but her hand was delicate and soft. Her eyes were a shade of green like none other I had ever seen and they seemed to look directly into my soul.
For just an instant I was speechless but it passed and I managed, “Hi, I’m Jack Nolan. Owner of this fine establishment.” Damn that sounded stupid.
Tim chimed in, “Going to the beach in a rainstorm and neither of you is blond.”
By now Sissy had finished setting a couple of fresh drafts in front of the two downcast fishermen sitting at center bar and made her way up to us with the coffee pot in one hand and a mug in the other, “Coffee Tim? You know we don’t go to the beach for the surf and the sun.”
“Never turn down a cup of coffee,” replied Tim with a smirk of pride from his last jab radiating on his face.
“Right, we go to the beach to sit under the faux tiki huts and drink rum and coke,” inserted PJ . “Leave the sun and surf stuff for the tourists.”
“Yeah and you can do that in any weather short of a hurricane,” contributed Sissy as she poured Tim’s coffee.
“Partner, it makes no difference what the weather, or what you want to do, because we haven’t solved our cabbie’s demise yet so it’s back to the grind for these two gumshoes,” said Tim dropping his shoulders in pantomime of a beaten man.
“No luck with cameras here?” asked PJ.
Wishing I had hours of video to review with her I admitted, “Sorry, our outside system has been out for some time and I just never got around to having it fixed. We really don’t have problems outside, so I guess I didn’t see the importance of it.”
She looked directly at me again with those penetrating eyes and said, “It was a long shot. The guys from CSI had scooped up everything they could find up and down the street. We just thought they might have stopped a little short, so we gave it a shot.”
Wanting to be helpful, but mostly wanting to prolong this conversation, I replied, “Did you talk to Johnny at the Marina? I know that they have numerous cameras covering the marina. Makes the folks leaving behind those high dollar boats feel more secure.”
Cap’s is on the ocean side of A1A with the Ocean Palms Marina behind it on the Atlantic. We share the parking lot which is not much of an issue because the boaters all park to the rear near the marina and our customers park in the front closer to the bar.
“Not yet. It was pouring down rain and your door was much closer to the car than the marina office,” said Tim.
PJ turned and looked out the front window and said, “We should try to make a run for it now. Looks like we have a break in the deluge outside.” The front blinds are closed most days but today no such luck.
Tim lifted his cup in a salute to Sissy, “Thanks for the coffee Sissy. Great as always. Pleasure to meet you Jack. I’ll stop in sometime and we can grab a beer and tell Mickey stories.”
“Yes, great to meet you,” I said as I reached out and shook his oversized paw again while making my way around him to face his partner.
I managed to get myself squarely in front of PJ and stuck my hand out to her, “I certainly enjoyed meeting you, PJ.” Probably too much honey in my voice so I added, “If I think of anything that might help you guys, I will give you a call.”
This is the point where she should offer me her business card with her office phone number and hopefully her cell phone as well. She looked at me with those penetrating green eyes again and said, “Yes. It was a pleasure to meet you Jack. Sissy has talked of you often.” The handshake was again firm, warm, and soft at the same time, but no business card was forthcoming.
As they turned and made their way down the length of the bar toward the back door, PJ turned to Sissy and said, “I’ll give you a call next week when Angela is away and we’ll go out and catch up.”
“I’d really like that. Please say hi to Angela for me,” replied Sissy.
PJ stopped at the door, “Will do. By the way, she says she’s still mad at you for missing her birthday party last month.”
“I know. I know. I’ll make it up to her. I promise,” replied Sissy.
“Don’t sweat it. She’s only kidding. I know she likes you more than she likes me most days,” laughed PJ as she pushed the door open and left.
CHAPTER SIX
I picked up my dishes and put them in the tub under the bar. Leaning back against the bar I asked Sissy, “So what’s the story with your friend PJ?”
Sissy narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. “You want the whole story or just enough so you can figure a strategy to try to get her into bed?”
Opening my palms toward her I implored, “Sissy, you malign me without cause. Why can’t I have a sincere interest in learning more about someone I just met? After all she is a friend of yours so maybe she could become a friend of mine. You’re always telling me that I need to get out of here more and make friends. Now I show a sincere interest in someone and you impugn me.”
“Tell me would your interest be as sin . c . e . r . e if she was not so damn good looking?” snorted Sissy, dragging out sincere in the most torturous manner.
I put forth an exaggerated down trodden look and replied, “Come on Sissy, she’s a cop. When I was a prosecutor and saw cops everyday I never even considered dating any of them.”
“I sure hope not. You were married then. You bozo!”
“Oh yeah. Still, you know what I mean. I just thought she might be interesting to get to know as a friend. Sometimes I do miss talking about the investigations and criminal cases.”
“I can understand that,” Sissy replied. “So how about you get to know Tim better. I’m sure he would love to talk cop stuff with you.”
“Well, I might do that too. So why don’t you give me the story on both of them.”
Sissy gave me one of her looks of skepticism but responded, “PJ, her name is Patty but everybody calls her PJ, grew up in North Miami. She had never, for one heart beat, considered becoming a cop. During college she met and fell in love with a Florida Highway Patrol officer. They married and a year later Angela was born. Angela was just two years old when Bill was struck and killed by a drunk driver while policing an accident on I-95. The outpouring of support she felt from the FHP and the law enforcement community as a whole convinced her that there was something special there. Against the wishes of her entire family, PJ attended the police academy, became certified, and was hired by Hollywood PD. Three years ago she was promoted to Detective and assigned with Tim.”
“So Angela is her daughter?”
“Yeah, who did you think she was?”
“Oh, I don’t know. The way you were talking with PJ, I thought maybe she was a mutual friend.”
Sissy cocked her head as if recalling a memory, a slight smile crossed her face, “PJ and I became friends when she was protecting me during a trial in which I testified against a local Russian hood.”
I interrupted, “Detective Donovan told me about that. Very brave on your part.”
Sissy cocked her head again and a frown spread as if she was remembering an unpleasant chapter in the story. As quickly as the frown appeared it disappeared and the smile returned, “After that mess was over, our friendship continued and I naturally became friends with Angela. She’s a great kid. Of course she is a teenager now, so PJ’s dealing with the raging hormones phase. Sometimes I think the bes
t role I can play right now is to act as a buffer between the two of them. In the end I’m sure Angela will turn out great. She’s a good kid and PJ sure is a dedicated mom.” The smile on her face faded as she continued, “In all honesty, sometimes I think that I’m the role model PJ holds up to Angela as how not to turn out. You know, ‘you need to buckle down or you’ll turn out tending bar someplace like Sissy.’ ”
“I doubt that’s true. You wouldn’t be friends if PJ didn’t like you.”
“Oh, I know she likes me. I just don’t think she believes that I’ve made much of my life and I guess I can’t argue with her. What am I going to do. . .tend bar my whole life? PJ thinks I’m not living up to my potential. She thinks I should go back to school and pursue some type of professional career. I just don’t know what I’d be interested in doing. A few years ago I took classes at Broward College but nothing really lit my fire so I just drifted away.”
Wanting to turn the conversation back to something lighter, since I was the last person to council someone on career development or living up to your potential, I asked, “What do you know about PJ’s partner, Tim?”
Sissy seemed to welcome the break in her self-examination, “I know that they sure make an odd couple. PJ has to work so hard to downplay her looks and be taken seriously as a cop and one look at Tim and you just naturally think . . . cop.”
“I know what you mean. He even walks like a cop. Is he from South Florida? I thought I detected a New York accent.”
“Of course he’s not originally from South Florida. No one’s originally from South Florida. Except for maybe the Seminoles. PJ told me Tim was third generation New York PD and had ten years on the force when he decided that he needed a change of environment to raise his three daughters. He’s been with Hollywood for nearly fifteen years and it was a great fit since half of the people in this area are from New York or New Jersey.” In my relatively short time here I had learned that, as well as the fact that, the other half are from Russia and South America.
Cap's Place: A Jack Nolan Novel (The Cap's Place Series Book 1) Page 3
