by J N Duncan
At the guys’ table, Jackie stopped, staring at Pernetti’s dome of a head, glowing with perspiration under the overhanging lamp. He was a bowling ball on legs. “A dozen drinks wouldn’t drown out the frustration of your presence here, Pernetti. Is it just me in particular, or are you a shit head around everyone?”
Gamble laughed, slapping Pernetti on the shoulder. “Think it’s you, Jack. Must be love.”
Jackie pointed a finger at him. “Shut up, Gamble. I wasn’t talking to you.” Something in her tone made him wisely clam up. She continued before Pernetti could get his comeback out. “You think nobody heard you fucking Charlene in the storage room? I think the security guys passed the tape around, or maybe that was the one of her sucking you off in the delivery van down at the loading dock. You and the wife should get some popcorn and have a movie night, Pernetti.”
The laughter at the table had gone quiet with her diatribe. The venom in her voice told them she was far past the joking-around stage. Pernetti’s head had gone from pink to a rosy red.
“Okay, fuck you, Rutledge. You want to tell the whole bar?”
“Sure, P,” she said, turning to face the room. “That’s a fabulous idea. You can tell them about how much I drink, and I’ll tell them about how you’re a philandering office slut who will fuck anything-”
Pernetti’s hand whipped across the table, faster than she would have figured he could move his lumbering body, and shoved her back. “Watch it, Jack. I’m not going to put up with your bullshit.”
“Or what, P? You going to take it out on a woman?” Jackie laughed. She felt on a roll now, nice and pissed. Five years she had been putting up with this pig. She suspected he was one of those types who took everything home and dumped it on his wife. The fucker had pictures of his kids on his desk, but not the wife. She had heard him call her a bitch to the other guys. Yeah, Jackie thought. Bring it on, numbnut. “According to Charlene, you ain’t got enough dick to take it out on me anyway.”
Pernetti scrambled to his feet, his face a wonderful rose red. Jackie grinned at him and shifted her right foot back just a bit for balance. She knew his type. Set them off, and it was all blind, dumb rage. There were actually a few similarities between him and a stepfather who only crept out of the hole in her mind while she slept. Her thought trailed off at Pernetti’s retort.
He leaned over the table at her, hands slapping hard down on the surface, mouth twisting into a spiteful sneer. “What you need dick for, Jack? You got the dykey little witch to lick your boot heels for-”
Jackie’s hand flashed out and slapped Pernetti across the face. He didn’t deserve anything more than a good bitch slap. If he pressed it though, Jackie was prepared to bust his crooked, oft-busted nose. At that moment, however, the ring and buzz of her cell went off in her pocket. Pernetti appeared too flummoxed to respond, holding one hand to his face in disbelief.
“Nice one, Jack,” Gamble said, pushing away from the table. He was smart enough to see some shit was about to hit the fan. “Maybe we should just get everyone outside so we can cool our heads.”
Jackie gave him an icy look and pulled out her phone while Pernetti tried to scramble out from behind the table. Everyone else had wisely picked up their drink but Pernetti, who sent his spilling across the table when he hit it trying to move around to Jackie. She flipped open the phone, noticing Laurel’s number on the screen, and keyed the TALK button, all the while enjoying his clumsy attempt to get around to her. What was he going to do, throw a punch?
“Rutledge,” she said into the cell just as, to her surprise, Pernetti did indeed throw a punch. Jackie instinctively leaned back, bringing her hand across to block, and his fist connected rather solidly with her phone, snapping the lid off and sending it to the floor. “You stupid fucker!”
Jackie returned fire, her small hands flashing out with blinding speed, even if they did not pack much punch. Pernetti’s mouth erupted with blood, and he quickly lost his balance in the puddle of beer he found himself standing in. There was no time to celebrate the glorious image, as a long arm snaked out from Pernetti and he grabbed her shirt. Jackie found herself tumbling down to the floor along with him.
“Damnit, Jackie!” It was Marly’s voice screaming at her from the bar.
“Fucking bitch,” Pernetti hissed at her through his split lip.
She scrambled to her feet, turning to smile at Marly. “Sorry, Mar. He had it coming though. You heard him, didn’t you?”
“Then take it outside, for Christ’s sake. You going to clean up that mess?”
Pernetti was getting slowly to his feet, one hand gingerly touching his lower lip. The crowd, which had been swarming in, began to dissipate back to their normal places just as quickly. What could she do? Jackie shrugged, a pained smile on her face. “Sorry. Really. He just… you know…” She sighed and bent down to pick up her busted phone, hoping Laurel wasn’t trying to reach her about anything important.
Gamble had a hold of Pernetti now, helping him back to his feet. “You’re a fucking psycho, Rutledge,” Pernetti said.
He was embarrassed more than anything. Sally was already walking up with a mop in her hand, and Jackie fished in her wallet for a twenty. “Sorry, Sal.” She sounded like a broken record. It was time to get out.
Sally snatched the twenty from Jackie’s hand before it had even been offered. “Go home, Jack.”
The crowd cheered her on as she walked by the bar, and Jackie felt embarrassed now. Okay, it had been a stupid thing to do. Likely, she would be hearing something from Belgerman the following day. No way would word of this not spread. Marly just glared at her, and she had no nerve for trying to smooth things over. He would forget about it in a day or two. He always did. Her hope now was that there was a kind and beneficent god who would keep Laurel from driving over to see what the hell was going on.
Jackie stepped out into the setting sun, squinting at Laurel, who had stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. The hard, thin line of her mouth said it all. Man, God could be a prick.
Chapter 10
“I tried calling you.” Laurel’s voice was taut as a guitar string. Her hair was damp with a sprinkling rain.
Jackie winced. When was the last time she had heard that tone of voice? Laurel so seldom got mad at anything she could not even remember. Rummaging through her purse, she pulled out the broken remains of her cell phone. “Pernetti took a dislike to it for some reason.”
“Some reason?” Laurel’s hands came to rest on her hips, balled up into fists. “Do I want to go in and ask Marly what happened?”
“Um, no.” Jackie smiled nervously at her. “I had good reason though. Pernetti-”
“Fuck Pernetti,” she snapped back, leaning in close. “How many drinks have you had, Jackie?” She did not wait for an answer and spun on her heel, marching back to her car.
Jackie hurried after her. Unlike the anger that Pernetti’s comments inspired, Laurel’s reaction had the opposite effect on Jackie. Her stomach instantly knotted up in fear. Fuck Pernetti? Christ, she really is pissed. “I only had a couple. He called you a-”
“A couple?” She paused, her hand on the door handle of her blue Beetle. “You had only two drinks?” Jackie’s silence only appeared to inspire her anger. “Don’t even know, do you? Did you hit him, Jack?” The feeble smile was all the reply she needed. “Damnit! You can get suspended for that shit, Jackie.” She got in and slammed the door before Jackie could stumble out any kind of reply.
Jackie got into the passenger’s seat, staring at Laurel in something close to shock. Her partner, best friend in the world, clenched the steering wheel so hard her knuckles were white. Where had this all come from?
“Pernetti started it, Laur. He called you a boot-licking, dykey witch.”
Laurel took a deep breath and stared at Jackie for a moment. When she spoke, her voice was trembling. “I don’t give a shit about anything Pernetti says, and you know it.”
“Well,” Jackie replied, trying to so
und indignant, “if you had been there, you would’ve been pissed, too.”
“No!” She pounded her hands against the steering wheel. “Pernetti can be a prick for the rest of our lives, for all I care. His behavior is not the problem.”
“Oh,” she said. “Well, I don’t like him.”
“You don’t like men, period.”
“What?”
“Men, Jackie. You got a big issue with them, and I understand why, but I’m tired of seeing it drag you down into this… this place you’re in.”
“What place is that?” Jackie’s hand absently went to her stomach, which churned away with a fear that bordered on panic. “What are you talking about?”
“Am I stupid, Jack? Do I look blind?”
“No. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
“I know what happened to you. I know why you’ve got this thing. Why every guy is the biggest asshole in the world. Not all guys are like that, mind you, but it drives you, and that makes you strong in some ways. I admire that drive.” She smiled faintly.
“Thanks.”
“No, shut up. Let me finish while I still have the nerve.”
Jackie leaned away from her, against the door, watching her. “Okay.”
“Okay. First thing, why did you fight Pernetti? No, don’t answer,” Laurel said quickly, holding up a finger to her. “I’ll tell you, because I’ll bet I already know. He made a quip about what or how much you were drinking.” Jackie’s sheepish silence answered the question. “How about the guy this weekend? The lifeguard. What was his name?”
What the hell was his name? That whole night was a foggy blank. She had not even known when he left her apartment. “Does it matter?”
“Would you have had any interest at all if you weren’t plastered off your ass?”
Jackie looked down at her lap. No. She would not have given him the time of day. “Okay, so I got a little drunk and fucked a stranger. I’m not the first woman to do that, you know.”
“Jackie Rutledge,” Laurel said, pointing a shaking finger at her. “You don’t fuck anyone unless you’re so shit faced you don’t even know your own name.”
“Hey! That’s not…” Jackie faded to silence again. It was true.
“See! Not a one. I’ve been with you for eight years, Jackie. You’re my partner, and I care about you more than anyone.” Her hand reached out and pulled Jackie’s hand off her stomach and held it in her own. “Look at me, please.”
For a moment she could not bear it, but Jackie finally forced herself to look into the teary eyes of her friend. Jackie squirmed in her seat. “What?”
“They aren’t all your stepfather. There are a few good ones out there.”
She tried to grin. “That might be debatable.”
“Cut the shit! Quit hating yourself, hon. Forgive your mother for being weak and stop being scared you are just like her. You aren’t. Trust me.”
Anger billowed up inside. “I don’t hate myself! And what’s with all the psychobabble? All I did was smack Pernetti-”
“Because you’re half drunk! Why? To mull over the case? Bullshit! You don’t need six fucking shots of tequila to mull over anything.”
“I didn’t say-”
“Quit talking, Jack!” Laurel released her steel grip on Jackie’s hand and stabbed a finger at her again. “This isn’t about today or punching Pernetti. This is just the final straw, and I’ve got to say something before it drives me insane and makes me hate you.”
Jesus Christ. The ghost shit had really done a number on her. Clearly, she had to get something off her chest, so Jackie stayed silent and waited.
“I don’t want to hate you. I want…” She paused, gathering herself, and heaved a sigh. “Damnit, Jackie. You need to figure this out. I don’t want to cover your ass anymore on this stuff.”
Jackie shrugged. “Okay. Then don’t. You don’t need to do that. I’m a big girl, you know.”
Laughter half dissolved into tears. “That’s just the thing. You’re still that little girl inside who is terrified she’ll become her mother, and no amount of alcohol is going to hide that fear, Jackie. It’ll never go away until you face it down.”
“I, um…” What could she say to those tears? Everything inside turned to a quivering, gelatinous mess. Part of her wanted to lash out, tell Laurel to fuck off for being so presumptuous, but the problem was, she was right. “I will.”
“When, Jackie? When cirrhosis sets in? When you’re eighty years old and lonely and bitter and realize you’re going to die never having loved a single person in your life because you were too afraid to let them see who you are?”
“I don’t drink that much,” she said defensively.
“Only when you want to be with a guy. Because you’re too afraid they’ll see your mother in you.”
Tears welled up in Jackie’s eyes. “That’s not true.”
Laurel squeezed her hand, tears spilling down her own cheeks. “It is, and it’s ruining you, Jackie. You have to deal with this somehow.”
“I can deal with it fine.” The words did not even sound truthful to herself, and she wiped at the tear that threatened to spill. “I do just fine.”
“You ever want to love? You ever want a real, honest relationship?”
“Of course,” Jackie said with a laugh. They had to stop talking now, or she was going to burst into tears, and with her luck, the guys would all come walking through the parking lot just then.
“Then do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Next time you want to be with a guy, no drinking. Can you do that?”
What a stupid question. But deep down Jackie was not sure. She tried to imagine taking a guy home for the night, completely sober, completely herself. Christ. Jackie took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I… Yeah, I think so.”
“Good,” Laurel said, seemingly satisfied for the moment. She reached into her purse and pulled out a tissue. “Here. Scary thought, isn’t it?”
“What’s that?”
“Letting someone see who you really are. Inside.”
Jackie swallowed the lump in her throat and just nodded, wiping at the tears that ran down her cheeks now. She felt twelve years old all of a sudden.
“You’re a good person, Jackie. Amazing, really. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of in that regard.”
The tears kept coming, and Jackie nodded dumbly again. Laurel knew what she was afraid of, far more clearly than she had been willing to admit, obviously. Jackie could see the image of her mother now, floating peacefully, smiling. Sad how the only time she could recall her smile was in death. Her body began to shake now, overwhelmed by the dam of emotion that crumbled within.
“I don’t want to end up like her,” she said, stuttering through the sobs that welled up. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
Laurel’s arms came around Jackie then, holding her tightly. “I know, hon. You won’t. Trust me, you won’t.”
“How can you know?”
“I just do, okay.”
For some reason, that was enough. It was the soothing, motherly tone, perhaps. Or maybe she was just being psychic. Whatever it was, Jackie didn’t care. The release felt good, and she held Laurel for a long moment, savoring the brief feeling of security it brought. When the sobs had finally stopped wracking her, Jackie let go. “Thanks, Laur.”
“Welcome,” she said with a little laugh, “and I’m sorry for being a bitch. I had to say something for my own sanity’s sake. I’ve been ready to strangle you for a while now.”
Jackie chuckled at the thought and sagged back in the seat. She felt exhausted all of a sudden, beyond tired. “No. I had it coming, I think. I mean, you’re my only real friend, for fuck’s sake. If you can’t stand me, who else am I going to turn to?”
Laurel looked at her hard for a long moment. “Some things need to change, that’s for sure. For one, you can quit defending me against the dykey-witch insults.”
“Hey, now! I won’t
put up with homophobic bullshit from anyone.”
She gave Jackie a hesitant smile. “Even if the accusation is true?”
“What?” Laurel’s words did not sink in right away, dawning on her slowly as Laurel watched her with a steady, expectant gaze. “You’re saying you’re a dykey witch.” Laurel nodded at Jackie, whose eyes suddenly went wide. “But… Laur! You aren’t… I mean, how can you be? Jesus fucking Christ!” She reached over and slugged Laurel in the arm. “How come you’ve never told me? Oh, my God.”
It was Laurel’s turn to slump back in her seat. “I’m sorry, Jackie. Honestly, I thought you knew.”
“Pernetti knows?” It was quickly becoming apparent that Jackie might be the only person in the bureau who did not know.
She winced at Jackie’s embarrassment. “I think most everyone does. They’re just afraid to make any remarks about it in your presence.”
“Damn straight,” she said, “or rather… um… Fuck, Laur.” Her mind just could not get around the idea. How could she have not known? “Am I that self-absorbed?”
“Oh, no,” Laurel said, laying a hand on Jackie’s arm, who abruptly pulled it away from her touch. “I didn’t want it to interfere with anything.” She looked down at Jackie’s arm with a resigned sadness. “I’m sorry.”
Wow. A couple shots of tequila sounded really damn good now. “Well, I’m in no position to say a damn thing, am I?” She laughed at the irony. “I don’t even know what to think right now. I can’t. I’m half wasted and tired as hell. But I’m okay with it. Being gay, I mean. I’m more shocked at myself, I think.”
Laurel nodded. “It’s okay. This is good though, us talking about all this. We’ve needed to get some things out in the open. For once, I guess we can thank Pernetti for being an asshole.”
Jackie laughed. “I’m just not sure what to do with it all.”
“Nothing.” Laurel started up the car. “Go take a hot bath. Sleep. Figure out what you’re going to say to Belgerman tomorrow about all this.”
“Shit. That’s not going to be fun.”
“Nope, and I hope it’s not as bad as it could be. Did you at least figure out anything more on the case?”
