The crowd burst with laughter at the punch line. Andy slowly bent down, picked up his empty glass, and raised it high above his head.
“And on that note—more beer, barkeep!”
He leapt from the hearth and disappeared into the crowd. The laughter faded into applause and the rapping of knuckles on the tables and bar.
Mark turned his attention back to Luci.
“He should run for mayor.”
“He’d win.”
The audience dissipated as people took their seats and spread out around the bar. A third of the crowd left immediately. Lee Carter stood by the door and grinned at them as they exited.
“Good night. Thanks for coming. Come again. Thank you, great to see you all.”
It wouldn’t kill you to buy a drink and eat some wings.
Twenty-nine
“So what happened? Why did you guys break up?” asked Luci, slowly draining the last sip of her beer.
“I don’t think I would characterize it as a breakup. It was probably over before it even started. As always, I had to travel for work. When I was gone, she had more shoes under her bed than a Holiday Inn.”
Luci struggled unsuccessfully not to laugh and quickly brought a napkin to her mouth to keep the beer from escaping. Mark smiled widely.
“It’s funny now. At the time, not so much.”
“I still can’t believe you dated a stripper.”
“Luci, please—exotic dancer. And she claimed to be retired. Anyway, now that I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself by sharing my awful judgment, what’s your story? How come you’re still single?”
Luci finished wiping her mouth and looked at the lipstick-stained napkin.
“I’ve had some dates over the years and maybe one or two guys I would call boyfriends, but no one who ever had any real potential.”
“How come?”
“Who knows, Mark? And I don’t lose any sleep over it. Maybe it’s the same as with you—the job gets in the way. I don’t want to date another cop because I don’t want my whole life to be about the job. And civilians can’t seem to ever get past it. Being a cop is a big part of me, but not all of me. Get it?”
“More than you can imagine.”
Luci’s expression turned sour and she rolled her eyes.
“Luuuci! You have some ’splaining to do!” said an approaching voice.
Mark turned to see a man in his mid-thirties with a beer glass in one hand and dragging a chair behind him with the other. On top of his wavy brown hair sat a pair of dark-framed, oversized sunglasses. Two days of scruff covered his handsome face, and his untucked blue oxford cloth shirt was mostly unbuttoned, revealing a white tank top underneath. He put his glass on the table, spun the chair around with one hand, and sat down uninvited. Then he leaned back and clasped his hands behind his thick head of hair.
“Lee tells me there’s been more graffiti,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What do you want, Charlie? Can’t you see we were having a discussion?” she said with a nod in Mark’s direction.
“I’m just asking a question, Luci. Most of us know you’ll eventually figure it out and save the day. Others say putting you in that position was a mistake because of your background. But rest assured, the people who matter know that’s not true and you have our support.”
“My background? What that’s supposed to mean?
“Your ethnicity, whatever. Those people don’t matter anyway. Just forget it. I still have some influence down there, so let me know if I can help. There’s some benefit to being an outsider to the community you police. You know, not being so familiar. But I’m sure you’re doing a great job. Besides, it ain’t exactly Queens down there, right?”
Mark watched as Luci’s breath quickened and her chest started to rise and fall visibly. This guy was pushing her buttons, but she shrugged it off as quickly as it came on and forced a smile.
“And I thank you for that. It’s nice to know you’ve got my back,” she replied with a hint of sarcasm so slight Mark knew it must have been for his benefit.
The man turned his attention to Mark, who was scanning the crowd.
“Who’s your friend?”
“Mark this is Charlie Worth. Charlie, Mark Landry.”
Mark slowly turned his head and the two men locked eyes. Charlie offered his hand.
“Good to meet you, Mark. You on the job?
“On the job? You mean am I a cop? No. No. Civilian. I’ll leave the dangerous stuff to the professionals,” he answered, politely shaking Charlie’s extended hand.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I spent five years in Queens before transferring to this country club. Suffice it to say I had a lot of close calls. This place is a cakewalk,” he said, redirecting his gaze to Luci. “As long as you can handle a little graffiti.”
“I can only imagine,” replied Mark.
“So, what do you do?”
“Me? You mean for a living? I’m an environmental cleanup consultant.”
“Oh, okay. Like what?” pressed Charlie in a slightly less friendly tone.
“It’s boring, mostly paperwork, and hard to explain.” He leaned forward slightly before continuing. “But let’s call it quality control.”
Charlie smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
“Sounds good to me. God knows we need good people to do that stuff too.”
A woman approached Charlie from behind and yanked the sunglasses from his head.
“I can see why you need these, Charlie. It’s wicked dark in here,” she said with a thick Massachusetts accent.
Charlie brought a hand to his head and spun around in his chair to face the woman. His neck and face started to turn red.
“Has he mentioned Queens yet?” she asked rhetorically in Luci and Mark’s direction. Luci smiled while Mark watched, expressionless.
“Can I have my glasses please, Wendy?” Charlie asked through clenched teeth.
“Shooah. All you gotta do is leave these nice people alone. I’ll be at the other side of the bah. If you want ’em, come and get ’em.”
She winked at Luci, nodded at Mark, and walked to the other side of the Witch Hunt, wearing a proud grin from ear to ear.
Charlie shook his head back and forth, his mounting anger and embarrassment betrayed by a reddening face and neck. He stood up, pushed in his chair, and left without another word.
“My coworkers,” said Luci.
“Yeah, I figured that out on my own. Is he the exception?”
“Exception to what?”
“The night I arrived, you said you liked just about everyone in the department. I’m guessing he’s the exception.”
Luci nodded vigorously and displayed an exaggerated look of surprise.
“I’m impressed. I guess you do listen. Point for Mark. And what do you make of him after this very brief encounter?”
Mark finished his beer and set the glass on the table.
“He’s pretty much a douchebag.”
She stared at him with disappointment.
“Minus two points. Do you try to be obnoxious or does it come naturally?”
Mark dropped his shoulders and head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
Here we go again. She’s going to make me say it.
“Luci, I am sorry for being crude, classless, and dismissive of your question. May I take another whack at it? Please?”
“Yes, you may,” she answered approvingly.
“Okay. He still hangs his hat on the few years he spent in a tougher environment before joining your department. He is probably the only cop here with that experience, but there are likely a few ex-military cops on the force who he thinks are somehow his peers. I also suspect that he’s the guy you replaced as community liaison, because he’s busting your chops about something that probably didn’t start until after he left the position or he wouldn’t be mentioning it … he seemed to enjoy pointing it out to you. Probably he was replaced because there were too many complain
ts that he was alienating people. He clearly has an issue with women, especially authority figures like the one who just snatched his glasses. My guess is that she outranks him because he didn’t go after her in the same passive-aggressive style that he used with you. Maybe he has issues stemming from his relationship with his own mother … who knows. How am I doing so far?”
“I’m not sure about his relationship with his mother, but the rest of it is perfect. You get your points back. But you did leave out one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That he’s pretty much a douchebag,” she said in a low whisper as she leaned across the table. “I have to go to the lady’s room, and then I’m ready to leave whenever you are. Here comes your friend.”
Mark watched as Luci stood up and disappeared into the crowd. He chuckled to himself as several other men casually glanced away from their dates to follow Luci with their eyes.
Does she even notice the gawking? Or is she just used to it?
“Mark Landry!” boomed a voice from behind as two large hands came down on his shoulders and shook them excitedly.
Mark stood and turned. Andy O’Rourke was looking down on him with his arms spread wide open.
“Give me a hug, little man!”
“Little man? You’re not looking down because I’m little. You’re looking down because you’re part—”
Andy pulled him in tightly before he could finish.
“Part sasquatch,” Mark said in a muffled voice, face pressed firmly against the big man’s chest.
“Still in one piece, I see! Great to have you home. How long will you be around? Are you staying for good this time? Where’d Luci go? Are you two still an item—or an item again? What have you been doing with yourself? Can you talk about it or would you have to kill me? Say, can you come by and speak to my social studies classes sometime about your experiences? Probably not, right? Scratch that. Talk to me! Tell me something good, my friend!”
“Good to see you too, Andy. You look great. Teaching and coaching football, I hear?” Mark replied.
“Yup. Social studies chair, assistant varsity football coach, raconteur and bon vivant! Life is good, my friend. I do this every Thursday. I bring in the bodies and Lee pays my tab at the end of the night, as long as I don’t buy too many drinks for others. He’s a nice guy but he squeezes every nickel until the buffalo farts, if you know what I mean.”
“Sounded like a great story, but I missed the beginning because we got here a little late and had to park way down the street. Was all of that true?”
“Most of it,” he answered with a wink.
Luci reappeared at Andy’s side and wrapped one of her arms around his thick waist, her lips bright red again with fresh lipstick.
“How’s it going, Coach?”
“Hola, Señora! Cómo está usted?” replied Andy, unsuccessfully trying to mask his abundant gringo accent.
“I’m good. Nice job tonight. You have a gift, my friend.”
“It’s about time you came out to see me. I was starting to think you didn’t like me. And I’m glad you dragged this guy with you. It’s great to see the two of you together again.”
Mark beamed with approval at the comment, but Luci glared back at Andy with her best poker face. He sensed the awkwardness.
“Well, some lucky guy better make an honest woman out of you soon. You should be a grandmother by now.”
Luci exhaled deeply and shook her head while Mark looked away to scan the bar. Andy dropped his head and groaned out loud.
“You know, I’m an idiot. Please don’t listen to me. I’m great up there,” he said, pointing to the stone hearth with his chin, “but sometimes I really suck down here. I’m sorry, Luci. Please don’t read into that comment too much. I missed yet another excellent opportunity to keep my big mouth shut.”
She squeezed his waist one last time before letting go.
“Don’t sweat it, Andy. You’re a man. You can’t help it.”
“Touché, Madame.”
“Mark, I have to talk to someone for a second. After that, let’s get out of here. I have an early day tomorrow.”
Both men watched as Luci walked across the room and leaned over the bar to speak with Lee Carter. Andy excitedly broke the silence.
“Hey, as part of the annual Independence Day festivities this Fourth of July, the town is having a special recognition ceremony for its veterans on Founders Field. It’s going to be a big to-do, complete with marching band, cheerleaders, the whole football team, and yours truly as speaker. I know there’s no way you’ll sit as one of the honored,” he said, pointing his beefy index finger at Mark. “But you should swing by and at least check it out. I’ve been pushing this idea for years. The town elders have finally given in.”
“Yeah, if I’m around I’ll definitely check it out.”
Behind the bar, Lee Carter nodded and Luci shook his hand. Then she turned around, made eye contact with Mark, and motioned toward the door with her head.
“Looks like my bus is leaving. It’s good to see you, man. Let’s get together soon and catch up, okay?”
“You got it. And please apologize to Luci again for me. I didn’t mean anything by that stupid comment.”
“I will, but you shouldn’t worry about it too much. Something tells me she’s used to it.”
Andy watched Mark weave his way through the crowd toward the door.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Thirty
“Do you really have an early day tomorrow? Or did you just want to get me alone?”
Luci ignored the question and searched for the window control with her soft fingers. Cool night air filled the car. She cautiously turned onto Main Street and checked the rear-view mirror before speaking.
“When it starts to get late, I go home. I’d rather not be around when people start getting louder and looser. Besides, I can only take being stared at for so long before it starts to get creepy.”
“I wasn’t sure if you noticed all that.”
“Seriously? Do you think women are idiots, Mark?”
He held his hands up over his head in mock surrender.
This is not going well.
“Don’t shoot. I give up!”
Luci laughed and kept one hand on the steering wheel while she ran the other through her straight, black hair. Mark watched and wondered if he would ever get another chance to hold a handful of it against his face and inhale slowly through his nose.
If angels exist, I bet they smell like her.
“Sorry, I’ve been a bit annoyed since the Valley Insider’s latest.”
Mark furled his eyebrow.
“What’s that?”
“I texted you about it earlier today. Print newspapers are dying. So three journalists,” she said, momentarily taking her hands off the wheel to make air quotes, “got together and created the Valley Insider, an online local news site. It’s a cross between a low-budget Boston Globe and an even lower-budget National Enquirer. They produce mostly pseudo-news and baseless gossip, but hey, it’s a free country. Get my tablet from the glove box and check out their latest. “
Mark removed the tablet and closed the compartment. He pulled up the browser, and the Valley Insider loaded automatically.
“You hate it so much you made it your homepage?” he asked.
“I never said I hated it. I just don’t like reading about myself.”
He scrolled to the latest post and read the headline aloud: “Growing Concern over Liaison Officer.”
Under the headline was a picture of Luci with a smile on her face, one arm extended, with the palm of her hand resting flat on Latin King graffiti. The accompanying article was unnecessary; the picture said it all.
“Don’t read it—at least, not to me. I already know it by heart. Complete B.S., anonymous sources, a pure hit piece. This is the fourth post about me in the last month, and the bitch has never even asked me for a comment. Not that I would give one, but you’d think she woul
d at least want to give the impression she was a professional journalist.”
Mark scrolled to locate the author.
“Lisa Lemon?” he asked.
“That’s her.”
“Two-hundred thirty-eight comments.”
“Don’t read those either. They boil my blood.”
Mark flicked the screen with one finger and quickly scanned some of the comments.
“Jesus, some of these are pretty awful. Have you guys checked out any of these people?”
Luci rolled her eyes and laughed out loud.
“Sounds like a great idea—investigate anyone who says something on the Internet that we don’t like.”
“Not everyone—just the ones making the threats. Some of these are pretty explicit.”
“Welcome to the twenty-first century, Mark. Control the things you can, try to ignore the things you can’t. Know what pisses me off most? That picture looks like it could have come from my dash cam.”
“Yeah, what about those body cams? Are those always on or what?”
“No. The department and the town are still trying to figure that out. For now, it’s up to us to turn them on at our discretion. Which means some cops always have them on while others, like Charlie, never do. Next subject, please.”
He returned the tablet to the compartment and seized the opportunity to redirect the conversation.
“So where are we headed? Are you going to show me your place?”
“You must be out of your mind, Landry. The only reason I drove you is because I believed you when you said you didn’t have a license. Now I’m thinking I should have left you back there with Andy.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because you’d probably end up getting in a tussle and I’d prefer to just drive you home now rather than be woken up and have to get you at the station.”
“A tussle? Hmmm … I don’t think I’ve ever been in one of those. Or a fight, if that’s what you’re saying.”
“You’ve never been in a fight?” she asked incredulously.
Wrong Town: A Mark Landry Novel Page 9
