"Don't worry. We'll have another chance at this."
I made a mental note to buy condoms the next day. Just in case, of course. I had no intention of using them.
Twenty
I woke up the next morning feeling incredibly frustrated -- both sexually and professionally.
Externally, I was glad that Eliot and I hadn't been able to get it on. Internally, I was pissed. My dreams had been filled with visions of Eliot sans his shirt. They were great dreams, until I realized that Jake was also in the room. He was holding up Olympic figure skating judging signs -- and the scores were pretty low. Then the dreams became guilt ridden. That, of course, was completely ridiculous, since I was pretty sure Jake was sowing his own wild oats with Candy.
By the time I'd showered and dressed, I realized I didn't have time for breakfast if I was going to make it to the Harrison arraignment on time. The last thing I needed was to tick off a judge -- especially given the week I was already having.
Since I was going to court, for once I dressed appropriately. No Star Wars shirts today. I had the sneaking suspicion that light up shoes weren't going to be welcome either. I left the house feeling kind of blah -- and only half of it was because of my dull outfit.
The Eastpointe district court has a lot in common with a war zone. The seats are wooden and hard. They also sport splinters. The walls are salmon pink and make me want to puke. It's nothing like the cozy courtrooms on the circuit court level. Hopefully I wouldn't be here long.
The first person I ran into inside the building was Kathy Harrison. She looked markedly better than the day before. The wonders a shower and nice outfit from Meijer could do.
She greeted me warmly when she saw me.
"Ms. Shaw, I want to thank you so much for the story." It must have run. "It was wonderful. I've already gotten a few calls from people who want to help."
"That's great," I enthused, and I meant it. This woman deserved any little bit of help she could get.
I noted, with a visible grimace, that she wasn't alone. Her brother had tagged along for the court proceedings.
"Mr. Jones."
"Ms. Shaw, I want to thank you for the story you wrote about Kathy," he said. "It was very well-written and truthful for a change."
A change?
"Perhaps you should stick to feature stories, since political stories seem to be above your pay grade."
Yep, still an asshole.
I smiled at Kathy as I made my way into the courtroom. I've found that engaging a jerk like Rob Jones makes you a jerk in return. I noticed, with a small sense of satisfaction, that Kathy was giving her brother a tongue lashing about his treatment of me. I knew I liked her.
When I got in the courtroom, I realized that there were only a handful of reporters in attendance. Seemed the naked dancer was already yesterday's news.
Since I didn't expect the courtroom to be crowded, I stayed away from the designated media area and sat in the general area. I wasn't in the mood for reporters today.
In typical fashion, court was late. If you've ever sat through the docket in a morning session you'd learn it's nothing like it is on television. Most of the judges work about four hours a day and they're always late getting started. Then they sit on the bench for a half an hour and take an hour-long break. Tough life.
Luckily for me, on a Thursday, there wouldn't be a lot of arraignments. I was right. After sitting through a handful of petty larceny and drunk driving cases, I finally heard the bailiff call the Harrison case up.
I didn't expect much to happen today. Evidence is pretty sparse at an arraignment. Generally, the suspect just enters a plea of not guilty and a date for a preliminary examination is set. I didn't expect this case to deviate.
I noticed that the sheriff's deputies had moved into the back of the courtroom, accompanied by a sullen Bart Harrison. I was relieved to see that he was not only dressed, but sober as well.
Most suspects seem embarrassed when brought into a courtroom. Bart was no different. He met his estranged wife's compassionate expression and looked like he wanted to cry.
Too bad he didn't think about that when I wanted to cry because I had to see him naked.
Kathy tried to move forward to talk to Bart, but I grabbed her wrist as she moved towards him.
"They're not going to let you talk to him in court."
She bit her lip to fight back tears.
"When can I see him?"
"You'll have to go to the jail."
Kathy apparently believed me. She sat down next to me and grasped my left hand. Oh, great, now she thought I was her best friend. I tried to detach my hand so I could hold my notebook. Kathy didn't seem upset about the slight.
The arraignment went pretty much how I expected. The judge ordered alcohol counseling for Bart and bail was set at $100,000, with an option for 10 percent. Sadly, for Kathy, I didn't think she could come up with the ten grand required to get her husband out. Secretly, I thought that was probably a good thing.
The case went by so quickly Kathy looked surprised when the judge got up and walked out of the courtroom. Bart was already gone.
"That was it?"
"Yeah, that was it. Court isn't really like they show it on television."
I said goodbye to Kathy, resisted the urge to shoot Rob the finger, and made my way out into the main hallway of the court building. Jake was standing outside in his dress uniform. A shot of guilt coursed through me again. I mentally slapped myself for the feeling. I didn't owe Jake anything.
"Hey."
"Hi."
We are nothing if not witty conversationalists.
"Anything happen since the last time I saw you?"
Like almost getting naked with your sworn enemy? "No."
I couldn't tell if Jake was relieved. Part of me thought he could see the Scarlet Letter I was sure was apparent on my chest. I decided to handle the situation maturely.
"So, how's Barbie?"
"Who's Barbie?"
"Your little girlfriend. You know, Candy."
"You call her Barbie?"
I didn't want Jake to think I was jealous.
"Only because I think she's into guys who aren't anatomically correct."
That's me being mature. What can I say?
Jake shrugged off the comment. "I'm not seeing her anymore."
"Why not? Get tired of having to explain the big words in Where The Wild Things Are?"
"No. I just realized she's not the one for me." Was that a pointed look?
"You didn't know that when she opened her mouth?"
"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment." Another pointed look.
I didn't know what to say, so I opted for silence.
Jake was looking at his feet. He clearly wanted to say something, but was unsure of how to do it. Finally, he just went for it.
"What's the deal with you and Kane?"
I almost saw him naked last night. "Nothing."
"Nothing? Or nothing you're going to talk to me about?"
Take your pick. "Nothing."
"Do you want something to happen with him?"
Just hot sweaty sex. "No."
"Do you want something to happen with me?"
Just hot sweaty sex. Wait, what did he just say? "What?"
Jake seemed frustrated, which bothered me, since I was the confused one.
"Sometimes, when you look at me, it's like we're kids again."
"You're not going to urinate on the judge are you?"
Jake was nonplussed. "That's not what I meant."
What did he mean?
"I mean, sometimes I look at you and want to climb right back into your bed."
"We were teenagers. We rarely did it in a bed."
"Do you have to treat everything like a joke?"
He was being serious. "What do you want me to say?"
Jake grimaced.
"You said you only think of getting me in bed sometimes. What about the other times?"
"Then I want to lock you in a cell
and gag you while I bang my head against the wall."
I mulled that for a moment. "Well, both sound fun."
Jake laughed at that for a moment.
"You want to be careful about Kane, you know?"
Now he was warning me off other men.
"Nothing is going on between us." Yet.
"Yeah, well . . . you want to have dinner some time?"
Dinner? Good grief.
"I don't know if that's a good idea." Mainly because I had your sworn enemy's tongue down my throat last night.
Jake seemed to think about that a second. "You're probably right."
What? He got over that idea quickly.
"Fine."
"Why are you getting so worked up?" He was playing with me now. Jerk. "Don't get your panties in a bunch."
"Don't think, even for a second, that you have any effect on my panties." Anymore. Well, hardly ever.
"I wouldn't dream of having an effect on your panties."
Scumbag.
"I think you're only interested because you think Eliot is." Sometimes, it's best to go with the truth.
"You think I'm jealous of Kane?" Jake was incredulous. I thought I'd hit the nail on the head.
"I think that may be part of it."
Jake shook his head. He appeared to be getting angrier by the second.
"You can do whatever you want with Kane. I must have been crazy to even think for a second that it would be a good idea to even consider getting involved with you again."
I think I was being maligned.
"And why is that?" I placed my hands on my hips, mimicking the best angry ex-girlfriend pose from my daily soaps. Thank you Vanessa Marcil.
"Because you're deranged, deluded and self-absorbed. All you think about is yourself. You're in your own little world where no one else can have a valid opinion -- or a real feeling. It's all about you."
Jake stalked off, he was radiating anger.
"I am not deluded!" I yelled to his retreating back.
Twenty-One
When I woke up Friday morning, I felt more wiped out than when I'd went to bed. My dreams the previous night were nothing like the erotic ones from the evening before. Instead, I spent the entire dream running between Jake and Eliot -- with Eliot turning into the Hulk and Jake turning into Darth Vader. It was really quite disturbing.
I half-heartedly showered and dressed, going for comfort in my Mark Ecko Star Wars hoodie, since the day looked pretty gray outside, and my simple camouflage Converse sneakers. I really didn't have the effort to dress up and annoy Fish.
I flipped through my day planner -- my one form of organization -- and saw that I didn't have anything scheduled. With any luck, I'd have to file some simple story and a few briefs for the day and then I'd be done. With family dinner looming this evening, a restful day sounded heavenly.
Instead of eating breakfast at home, I splurged on a McDonald's steak bagel on my way to work and I was feeling markedly better when I walked into the office. I noticed Marvin was in early again.
"Why are you working days again? You going to AA?"
Marvin looked exhausted. I couldn't be sure, since he always wore the same thing to work, but I think he'd slept in his clothes. The dark circles under his eyes, which were always present -- a remnant of his boxing days -- looked more haggard than usual.
"What's wrong?"
If something were legitimately wrong in Marvin's life I wanted to help him. Unfortunately, I had a feeling this was probably another manufactured drama.
"So, I was out on a date last night." This is never a good beginning for a Marvin story. I'm just issuing a warning. "She was hot. She's a dancer at the strip club down on Eight Mile. She said she was separated from her husband."
Ah, the holy trifecta for Marvin. A woman who was separated from her husband, meaning she wasn't ready for anything serious, who not only worked in the service industry, but she had the good sense to do it topless.
"We went to her house after dinner and I knew I was going to get lucky."
I nodded, feigning interest. By his own accounts, Marvin is terrible in bed. He says he's hung like an infant. I had no personal knowledge of this -- and I was thankful for it.
"So, we had a little wine." Which I'm sure went straight to both his heads. "And we moved into the bedroom."
He was rubbing his hands in anticipation right now. If he started rubbing something else, I was out of here.
"She had it all decked out."
"Decked out? What, with like candles and stuff?"
"No, with satin sheets and a whip."
Of course.
"So, we're getting into bed and she's smacking me around a little bit." Marvin must have noticed the wary look on my face. "Nothing really big, you know, just little smacks."
I didn't know, but I nodded for him to go on. Truth be told, Marvin's stories always make me laugh.
"I'm just about ready to get to Graceland." I think that means actual sex, but I'm not sure I want clarification at this point. "And then the door bursts open and it's this huge, I mean freaking huge, guy. He looked like he could be a professional wrestler."
I looked up from the mail I'd been sorting during his story and scanned Marvin's body a little closer. It didn't look like anything was broken. "Did you run away?"
"Worse."
"Did he threaten you?"
"Worse."
"Did he pull a gun?"
"Worse."
"What's worse than pulling a gun?"
"He pulled out his dick." Okay, where was this going? Oh, and that's definitely worse.
"What did he want you to do with it?" I was afraid I already knew.
"He thought we were going to have a threesome." Whoops. Turns out, Marvin's separated date was actually divorcing her husband because he was gay. This was her last ditch attempt to save the marriage.
I grimaced as Marvin explained how, since he was scared of the guy, he'd agreed to the threesome. While in the bathroom to ostensibly "freshen up," he'd tried to climb out the window and instead gotten wedged in. The fire department had ultimately been called to extract him from the window – and what little remained of his dignity.
Funnily enough, the story wasn't quite over.
"So, you think I should call her?"
"No."
"Well, I mean she's really hot."
"No."
"I don't think she's going to go back to her husband."
"No!"
Marvin looked crestfallen. I was merely annoyed.
I moved away from Marvin, I felt a little dirty myself at this point, and headed over to Fish's desk for my day's assignment. Fish seemed like he was in a good mood. Of course, it was rotary day, which meant he'd take a three-hour lunch and come back bombed. Who wouldn't be happy by that?
"Anything going on today?"
"Not much. Sheriff's department has some press release and photos of a missing woman. Do something short on it. Other than that, I left a few briefs on your desk."
Cool, easy day.
When I turned to return to my desk, I crashed into Duncan. Crap.
"So, what's the big extreme sport for next month, riding a tricycle?"
Duncan didn't seem amused. "If you must know, I'm going rock climbing."
"Where? There aren't any mountains in Macomb County. Hell, there aren't any hills."
"I'm doing it at that indoor place in the Shores."
"You mean the one where you're hooked up to cables and you climb like twenty feet up and you're done?"
"It's still very dangerous."
"How many people have died doing it?"
"None, but you can injure yourself if you fall."
"What, by getting whiplash? I think the only thing that would happen if you fell is that, in your manly terror, you'd unleash one of your little brown fighters."
If Fish hadn't been there, I'm sure Duncan would have went apeshit. However, in front of the bosses, he's always on his best behavior. Or, the best behavi
or he can muster.
"I'm sure someone with your limited brain capacity can't grasp the concept."
"I'm sure you're right. I can't grasp the concept of someone climbing up a rock with cables strapped to them. Why would someone who's not insane do that?"
Duncan decided arguing with me was a moot point. I couldn't agree more. As he left, Fish actually glared at his back. "That guy is such a douche."
"That's pretty much a given."
I decided to get my story done early so I could blow off the rest of the afternoon. Despite the fact that I'd probably run into Jake, I thought it best to get my visit to the sheriff's department over with quickly.
I needn't have worried. Jake was nowhere in sight and his second in command was in no mood for me to linger. He gave me the press release, the photos and a few quotes on the missing woman -- a mother of two in the ritzy northern suburbs -- and sent me on my way. I was glad to get out of the building. While part of me wanted to see Jake, the other really preferred hiding like a child. Hey, why mess with what's worked for me for the past twenty-seven years?
I stopped at the coffee shop on my way back to the office. I figured if I was going to play with fire today, I might as well do it all the way.
Upon leaving the shop, I ran into Eliot, who was walking out of the pawnshop. He smiled when he saw me.
"Miss me?"
Yes. "I was just getting some caffeine before returning to the office."
"Lucky for me, huh?"
I chose to ignore the statement.
"What are you working on today?"
"Just some missing woman from Romeo. It's a pretty easy day."
"What are you doing after work?"
"I've got a family dinner to go to." I never loved them more. From the look on his face, Eliot was ready to pick up where we'd left off the other night. I really wasn't. Okay, I really was, but I also really didn't think it was a good idea.
"And after that?"
"It's usually a three-hour extravaganza."
If he was disappointed, Eliot didn't show it. "Well, have fun."
Have fun? That's it? A little begging would be nice. A few tears. Something. Maybe I'd misunderstood his reasons for asking about my plans for the evening. “Have fun?”
"Yeah, have fun."
My brain told me to walk away -- and be cool about it.
1 Who, What, Where, When, Die Page 13
