Secret Rage

by Brent Pilkey

  They said their goodbyes to Phil and Bear and headed around the greenhouse, forgoing the car for the short walk.

  “You have quite the soft spot for the old guy, don’t you?”

  Jack nodded. “And Bear. I told you how I met him, right? The asshole in the rooming house beating up both of them?”

  “You did. It’s one of the things that endeared me to you,” Jenny said with a teasing smile.

  “What? That I kick down doors without warrants to arrest people?”

  “Well, that too.” She gave him a playful nudge. “I figured anyone who cared for animals that much couldn’t be a complete loss.”

  “I’m not a loss?”

  She nudged him again, harder this time. “I said, not a complete loss.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  The domed greenhouse was the centrepiece of the park and expansive enough to effectively cut the grounds in half. Before they even rounded the building they could hear two voices, predominantly a male’s, raised in heated anger. Even if they hadn’t been able to hear the yelling, Jack and Jenny could have found the domestic just by following the stares of everyone in this section of the park.

  At the rear of the greenhouse sat a round concrete pond, no more than fifteen feet in diameter, a ring of benches encircling it. Its waters were a favourite cooling spot for canines on hot days but Jack would’ve balked at letting Justice wade in there, having seen some local hounds — the two-legged kinds — using it as a communal bathtub.

  A young couple, university age, were currently the only ones near the pond; everyone else was giving them plenty of space but no privacy. Although, at the volume of their voices, privacy would have required several city blocks.

  “You’re a fucking whore!” the man — more of a boy in Jack’s opinion; an adult knows better than to have a screaming hissy fit in public — shrieked, inches from the woman’s face. He was a big, blond kid in a sleeveless top and jeans. Football or rugby, Jack thought.

  “Oh, good, idiot.” Jenny smirked. “That’ll win her back for sure.”

  The woman, another blonde, was a fraction of the kid’s size and cowering on a bench, trapped between his muscular arms as he leaned over her.

  “Quite the gentleman,” Jack agreed. Then, as they drew nearer, he announced firmly, “Hey! That’s enough!”

  The kid and his reluctant captive turned at Jack’s shout, the woman’s face registering immense relief, the kid’s immense pissed-off-ness.

  The kid straightened up as the officers approached, his jaw set in an angry clench. Unless the idiot had hit or threatened the woman, all they had right now was a domestic argument and so far, there was no law about yelling at someone.

  At most, if we have to push it, Jack thought as he kept his eyes on the big kid’s hands and Jenny moved off to the left — just because it looked like no crime had occurred didn’t mean one hadn’t or wasn’t about to — we’ve got him for causing a disturbance.

  Jack really didn’t want to bother with an arrest or a fight; it was just too damned hot.

  After glancing at Jenny and dismissing her — Jack was reminded of how the steroid monsters from The Keg had shrugged her off as if she was not a threat — the kid took a couple of steps to meet Jack away from the bench and snarled, “You’re not needed here.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Jack said. “But you’ll understand if we check for ourselves.”

  Cause Disturbance, at best, Jack was thinking. Most likely just a uniformed intervention in a lovers’ quarrel, couple of 208s filled out and everyone’s on their separate ways. Then the big idiot went and fucked that all up.

  “I said, you aren’t needed here.” The idiot stepped forward, planted a hand on Jack’s chest and shoved him.

  You fucking . . . “. . . moron,” Jack finished aloud. “Now you’re under arrest.” If there was one rule Sy had hammered home in his short time with Jack, it was that no one laid hands on a police officer. No one.

  While the big idiot had his eyes fixed on Jack, Jenny slid in from the side, probably intending to clamp her hands on the guy’s right arm. If the police gods were smiling, then the idiot would realize fighting two cops wasn’t such a bright idea. Worst case scenario, she’d take one of his arms out of a fight, giving her partner a significant advantage. But the gods must have been pissed off or looking somewhere else because the guy’s hand shot out, snake fast, and grabbed Jenny by the throat. Effortlessly, he hauled her onto her toes and held her there.

  Jack lowered his shoulder and exploded into the guy’s ribs, meaning to knock the idiot from his feet and then deliver some punishment, but the sudden, sharp pain in Jack’s rib robbed his tackle of strength and the guy only staggered back a few steps but kept his balance. His free arm whipped under Jack’s chin and clamped around his throat.

  Fuck. He’s choking both of us at the same time.

  Jack reached for a leg, still hoping to get the guy off his feet, and that’s when he heard Jenny’s baton, her steel baton, whacking off the guy’s skull. Heard it and felt it, the impacts sending miniature shock waves through the guy’s body. And she might as well have been hitting him with a pillow. The guy didn’t fall, buckle or even stagger. All he did was grunt every time the metal slammed into his head.

  Jack forgot about trying to grab a leg and pulled out his own baton. A quick flick and the metal weapon snapped open to its full length. Jack had never hit anyone with the baton and it felt like it was quivering eagerly in his hand, anxious for its first taste of flesh and bone. Or that could have been Jack’s brain starting to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen.

  Jack had been taught in the college not to strike any joints — knees and elbows especially — with the baton if it could be avoided. Less serious or permanent damage meant fewer lawsuits, Jack had figured at the time. But Jenny was already whaling away on a prohibited body area to no effect so Jack reasoned all bets and rules were off.

  He kept his eyes fixed on the guy’s left knee and swung the baton as hard as he could. Granted, bent over as he was, and with a cracked rib, he wasn’t able to get his whole body behind the blow but it still landed hard on the outside of the knee. Jack didn’t wait to assess the result and swung twice more, targeting the same joint.

  It felt like he was hitting a fucking tree.

  The guy tightened his arm around Jack’s throat and Jack realized the man — had he really thought of him as a boy? — wasn’t going to let go until Jack was unconscious. And an unconscious cop was a dead cop.

  Jack planted his feet, sank his hips and surged forward as powerfully as he could. The guy started backpedalling, slowly at first, then faster as Jack pumped his legs like he was doing a heavy set of squats. Once the guy’s legs were moving quickly enough, Jack stuck his baton behind a leg and the three of them went crashing down.

  Right into the pond.

  The water wasn’t deep, about a foot, so it did little to cushion the impact as the guy landed on his back. Jack dug his shoulder in under the guy’s ribs so that when they landed, all of Jack’s weight drove into the boy’s diaphragm. Above the splash, Jack heard the guy’s breath blast free of his body. The grip on Jack’s neck suddenly slacked off and Jack pulled his head free. He reared up, his baton spraying a fan of water as he drew it back.

  But Jenny beat him to it.

  As the idiot’s head cleared the water, she shoved her pepper spray into his face and doused him at point-blank range. The guy screamed as the spray bit into his eyes and skin and began to burn. And Jenny continued to blast him. In seconds, the idiot’s face and hands — he’d been trying to block the spray — were bright orange from its dye.

  The idiot finally exhibited some intelligence and threw himself face down into the water, but pepper spray was an oily, clinging bitch and it would take more than a quick dunk to wash it away.

  Jack grabbed an arm and with a sudden, savage twis
t had it pinned behind the guy’s back. He was tempted to keep the idiot submerged until he was cuffed, but figured that wouldn’t be the best course of action with all the bystanders. He yanked the idiot to his knees and repaid the chokehold with one of his own.

  “Calm down!” Jack yelled, more for the bystanders’ benefit that the idiot’s. “Put your other hand behind your back. Do it and we’ll clean that shit off of you. Do it now!”

  Jenny grabbed the idiot’s left arm and, none too gently, ‘helped’ him place it beside the arm Jack had trapped. A couple of metallic clicks later and the idiot was safely cuffed.

  “I don’t know about you,” Jack said to Jenny. The idiot was slumped against the side of the pond, his face a dripping bog of snotty orange. Five minutes of thrashing his face in the water had cleared most of the pepper spray. Most, but not all, and Jack figured the idiot had earned a slow burn for the trip to the station. “First the freaks at The Keg and now him. I’m starting to feel kind of small and weak.”

  “I think you did this on purpose,” Jenny told him, waving her hands at her soggy uniform.

  Jack coughed then spat. Fuck, he hated pepper spray. “How’s that?”

  “I think you just wanted to see me in a wet shirt,” Jenny said, striking a provocative pose.

  “Yeah, but the damn vest is still in the way.”

  Manny snorted so hard Coke blew out his nose. “Ow,” he complained around a mouth jammed full of pizza. “The bubbles burn.”

  “Serves you right for eating like a pig,” Jenny admonished him.

  Jack had just reached the part of the story where they’d taken the impromptu swim and, obviously, Manny had found that rather amusing. Jack waited for his friend to compose himself before continuing.

  Manny whistled appreciatively when Jack was done. “Three times in the knee and nothing?”

  “Not then, but when he left the station later, he could barely put any weight on it. His head was a mess of lumps, too.”

  “Serves the guy right,” Manny mumbled around more pizza. “You don’t touch a cop, man.”

  “Actually, he turned out to be an okay kid once he calmed down,” Jenny said.

  Jack nodded. “He even complimented me on how I swung my stick.”

  “Really?” Jenny asked.

  “Yup. Never mentioned you, though,” he added with a smug smile.

  Jenny stuck her tongue out at him.

  “Promises, promises,” Jack said.

  “You need guns like these to inflict some damage,” Manny declared. He hit a double biceps pose, pizza slice in one hand, Coke in the other.

  “You keep eating like that,” Jenny warned him, “and what muscle you have will disappear under all that cheese and pepperoni.”

  “Never happen,” Manny said, tearing off another chunk of grease wheel. “I’ve got a fast metabolism.”

  Jack just shook his head while Jenny asked, “How many more nights are you going to forget to bring your lunch here?”

  Manny waved his hand in answer until he swallowed. “We’ll be done tonight. Did I tell you about this?”

  “You showed us the front hall,” Jack reminded him.

  “Cool, right? But did I tell you who he was?” Manny was grinning like a kid with a new toy. “The guy who got his head chopped up is the brother of a pedophile on trial right now.”

  “The one at district court? I thought I heard on the news there were problems with the search warrant.”

  Manny nodded. “Yeah, that’s the one. Mason’s in charge of it, did you know? He stopped by here after court today, says it looks like the guy is going to walk.”

  “So somebody decides to play judge and executioner but gets the brother instead.” Jack snorted. “Sucks to be the brother.”

  Grinning, Manny nodded and chomped down on more pizza.

  Tuesday, 24 July

  0253 hours

  Jack leaned against the scout car’s trunk and gazed at the cloudless sky. Drawing a deep breath, he slowly sighed it out, imagining it was taking all the accumulated crap from the day and releasing it up to the stars.

  “Whatcha thinking?” Jenny plunked herself down on the trunk, resting her feet on the bumper.

  “We did some good today, didn’t we?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the night sky. There weren’t all that many stars out. From inside the city, even on a cloudless night, the heavens were never clear. Jack thought there might be some deep, hidden meaning in that but was too tired to figure it out.

  “Yeah, we did,” Jenny said, a smile touching her words. “And yesterday. Let’s hope that Myers prick gets do’ed this time.”

  “Well, the Ds were asking for a detention order,” Jack contemplated while he unhurriedly rolled his neck from side to side. “Assaulting a different girlfriend and child within two days should get him some dead time but you never know. It’s up to the courts, not us.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Jenny sighed. She leaned back on her hands and joined Jack in his study of the stars.

  It was a few minutes to the end of shift and they were the last of the evening cars back at the barn, but Jack wasn’t all that eager to leave and Jenny seemed content where she was.

  “We should get the kids together some time, now that Justice is doing well,” Jack offered, wanting to say something and feeling like he was back in high school, trying to work up the nerve to ask out the prettiest girl in class.

  “That’d be cool. Hammer and Mugsy would love to meet him.” Jenny’s Rottweiler and pug were frequent visitors to the station and unofficial 51 mascots. “We work well together, don’t we?”

  Caught off guard by the sudden topic shift, Jack blurted, “Yeah, it’s hard to believe we’ve only worked together for two days; it feels longer.”

  Jenny laughed. “Feels longer in a good way or bad?”

  “In a good way,” Jack stumbled. He turned to face her. “You know what I mean.”

  She laughed again, but her smile smoothed the sting from it. Jack smiled, embarrassed and amused by his awkwardness. High school? More like grade school.

  “Listen, Jenny, what would you think about . . .”

  “You want to pair up?” she asked, putting him out of his misery.

  It was Jack’s turn to chuckle. “You’d think things like this would get easier over time.”

  “Geez, Warren,” she mocked, nudging his shoulder. “It’s not like we’re going steady. So, what do you say?”

  “Absolutely. But shouldn’t I be the one asking?”

  “’Cause you’re the guy? Nuts to that,” she scoffed. She hopped off the car and grabbed her duty bag. “I’m a woman for the new millennium. Better get used to being told what to do.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, falling in beside her as she headed for the door. “Or should I say partner?”

  “Partner,” she agreed and Jack smiled; the night was ending on a good note.

  But the night, as Jack was soon to learn, was not over.

  Jack eased open the front door and a wet and cool black nose poked through the crack between door and frame.

  “Hey, Justice,” Jack whispered, reaching blindly to rub behind the dog’s ears. Without the front hall light — whenever Jack came home at odd hours he kept to the dark as much as possible so as not to wake Karen — the predominantly black shepherd was all but invisible.

  Scratching Justice’s ears, Jack could feel the dog’s body quivering as his tail wagged enthusiastically. Even after four months of greetings like this, Jack still wasn’t tired of it. It didn’t matter what kind of day he’d had or what his mood was or what time it was, Justice was always at the door waiting for him, ecstatic his master was home.

  “You need to go outside?” Jack asked in a low voice and Justice huffed in reply.

  Damn, he’s smart, he marvelled as the two of them made their w
ay to the kitchen. Jack slid open the door and Justice scampered across the deck to disappear into the shadows draped across the yard.

  The night was warm, a breath away from being hot — Jack was amazed Karen didn’t have the AC on — and Jack settled down on the deck, forgoing a chair to prop himself up against a post and stretched his legs out at the top of the steps leading up from the lawn. A moment later, Justice reappeared and bounded up the stairs in one effortless leap. He plopped down onto the deck, resting his chin on Jack’s thigh.

  “All done?” Jack sank his fingers into the thick soft fur on his dog’s neck, luxuriating in its feel, and felt the last of the day’s tension dissolve. Anxiety and stress had become close . . . not friends, but associates of Jack’s since that asshole Kayne had become a big wet spot on Rosedale Valley Road. The SIU investigation, the open wound that Karen’s attempted pregnancy had left between them. Justice. His job. Her parents. And now the fight over being back on the road.

  Too much shit. Just way too much shit.

  Jack dropped his head back against the post, searching the stars once more for answers. The sky was clearer out here in the burbs, away from the city and its constant haze. The stars were brighter, sharper, and the darkness between them deeper and so much blacker.

  The door slid open, closed. Jack followed Karen by ear as she stepped down to the deck’s lower level.

  “I thought I heard you come in.” She dragged a lounge chair close to him and sat — perched, really, she’s too tense to sit — on its end.

  Justice’s eyes twitched in her direction then closed again. He gave no other indication of her presence.

  “I tried not to wake you. Sorry.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep.” She was wearing an old housecoat and her dark blond hair gleamed softly in the starlight. “How come you’re out here?”

  Jack hoped it was his imagination, but he thought there was a tone of . . . something in her voice as her eyes flicked to Justice. There’s no love lost between them, he judged sadly but construed it was no time to tell Karen she shouldn’t be jealous of a dog.