by Radclyffe
In Japanese, Reese would first announce the attack followed by the defense, and they would alternate each position. Otherwise, no words were exchanged as they kept their eyes focused on one another—circling, blocking, and eventually throwing each other to the mat. Once down, each executed wrist, elbow, and shoulder locks designed to immobilize or dislocate. At the end of an hour and a half, Reese called a halt, and they once again knelt and bowed. Then Reese led Bri to the edge of the mat where they bowed once more and stepped off.
“Thank you, sensei,” Bri said quietly. Together they walked to the bleachers and began to remove and stow their uniforms.
“You’ve learned a lot since you’ve been gone,” Reese remarked.
“As soon as I graduate from the academy, I’ll be able to train regularly.” Bri’s voice was pitched low.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I talked to Moriyama sensei about you resuming your training with me.” At Bri’s quick glance, she added with a grin, “After all, I was only loaning you to him while you were in New York.”
Bri’s eyes sparkled for the first time that evening. “Thanks.”
“I don’t see any reason why we can’t keep you on schedule. You can either test for shodan in New York with Moriyama’s class later this year, or you can test here with me.”
“How would that work?”
“I’ll bring in a test board. There are people I can call.” Reese shrugged. “We don’t need to decide that now. You’ve got enough things to worry about. First priority is getting through the academy with good scores so you can have a shot at picking your field training placement.”
“I know. I’m busting my as…butt in class.”
“Good. See that you keep it up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” When Bri realized that Reese would probably head back to Provincetown any minute, she was almost desperate. “Listen, we could shower here and then maybe go out for a drink. If you have time?”
Reese regarded the young woman intently. Bri’s dark blue eyes were shadowed, and despite her formidable physique, she looked gaunt. “If you don’t mind a little healthy sweat, I don’t. I’m pretty hungry. Let’s skip a shower. Any place near there we can grab a bite?”
Bri’s grateful smile tugged at Reese’s heart, but she resisted the urge to throw an arm around the younger woman’s shoulder and hug her. There was a brittle look in Bri’s eyes that suggested she was just hanging on to the last remnants of control. A lifetime in the Marine Corps had taught Reese that sometimes comfort could break a person. “What do you say?”
“Yeah,” Bri replied eagerly. “There’s a tavern out on 6A about ten minutes from here.”
“Let’s go, then,” Reese said briskly. “And Bri?”
“Yeah?”
“Soda for you in the bar.”
Bri flushed. “Yes, ma’am. Absolutely.”
Nine minutes later, they made their way to a booth at the back of a beer joint that was packed with locals and academy trainees. A few guys and several women called to Bri in friendly welcome as she and Reese squeezed their way through the crowded bar toward the few open spots at the far end of the room. If Reese wasn’t mistaken, at least one of the young women eyed Bri with an appreciative glance that was definitely more than friendly. If Bri noticed the interested appraisal, she gave no sign of it.
Once seated, Bri gave her order to a young woman in tight blue jeans and an even tighter T-shirt that showed off perky breasts, who appeared with a pad and pencil at the ready. “Hamburger, fries, and a root beer.”
“Make that two,” Reese added. “Along with whatever beer you have on tap.”
“I’m really glad you came,” Bri said shyly. It was still difficult for her to relate to the woman who had been her teacher first as simply a friend now. That’s what Reese had become to not only Bri and Caroline during their senior year in high school but also to several of the town’s other gay youths.
They’d all started out spending time together as students at Reese’s dojo, which had been in Reese’s converted garage before Reese had sold her house and moved into Tory’s home just on the outskirts of Provincetown. After that, Reese had rented a building on the east end of Bradford that had once been a seafood shanty. Now, it was the Provincetown Martial Arts Center—P-MAC to its students, who ranged in number from three to eight depending on the time of year. Reese and Tory, who trained and taught there as well, had become friends and role models to the often marginalized teenagers.
“That’s okay. I wanted to see you.” Reese took the mug of beer that the waitress offered. “Find out how you were doing.”
Bri sipped her soda. “The academy’s not that bad. There’s a lot of material to be covered in a short time, but most of it is just common sense.”
“You shouldn’t have any trouble with the physical aspects of the training.”
“Not so far.” Bri couldn’t hide a satisfied grin. “A lot of the guys think that the women can’t handle themselves in that area, you know?”
“I’ve seen a bit of that in the military and in the sheriff’s department,” Reese said mildly. Their food arrived, and she took a minute to add ketchup to her burger. “Did you straighten them out on that point?”
“Let’s just say there’re a couple of guys in my class walking around with sore shoulders.”
“Good. You can handle yourself. Don’t be afraid to show it.”
Bri nodded, feeling almost happy for the first time since she’d left Caroline. “No problem.”
“It’ll be good to have you back in the dojo,” Reese remarked. “Once you’re through the academy, we’ll need to talk about you teaching one of the junior classes.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Isn’t Tory teaching a class in self-defense now?”
“Yes. But I don’t know how much longer she’ll be teaching.”
“Why?” Bri’s expression was suddenly serious. “Is there something wrong?”
“Nope.” Reese couldn’t keep from smiling. “She’s pregnant.”
Bri’s hand stopped halfway to her mouth, the hamburger forgotten. Her blue eyes grew so round they looked almost black. “No fucking way,” she said in a reverent whisper.
“It’s true.”
“Wow.”
“Yes,” Reese confided. “That’s exactly how I feel, too.”
“Does my dad know?”
“Sure. I told him right away. We’ve known for a couple of weeks.”
“What did he say?” Bri knew he tried hard to understand about her and Caroline, and he had been there for them when they hadn’t had anywhere else to turn. Still, she could tell when she talked to him that he didn’t really get it. Sometimes, she thought that he didn’t really take them seriously. As if being young meant you couldn’t really be in love.
“I think he said something along the lines of what you just did,” Reese replied with a laugh. “He seems fine with it.”
“Good.”
“You might want to give him a call sometime, Bri.” Reese pushed away the remnants of her meal.
Bri stiffened reflexively, but when she looked at Reese, she saw only the familiar, steady gaze. Reese had always been straight with her and had always treated her like an adult. Reese was everything she admired. “Yeah, I know.”
Reese nodded, waiting.
“I knew he was going to be pissed about me leaving school. I just didn’t want to get into it again with him.”
“He won’t understand unless you explain it to him.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Bri said softly, the pain that was always stuck in the center of her chest rising up to choke her. Her hands trembled, and she put them quickly underneath the table so that Reese wouldn’t see it. I don’t understand it all myself. Just that I had to leave.
“Why don’t you try practicing first with me,” Reese suggested easily.
Bri fisted her hands and stared at the tabletop. “I always wanted to be a cop.”
“I know.” Reese remembered the day Bri
had shyly confided the fact to her after one of their classes. “But what made you leave school now?”
“I…it wasn’t working out.”
“School?” Reese was surprised. Nelson had said Bri was doing well, and she knew that Bri was more than capable of handling the course load.
“Yeah. Look,” Bri said hastily, afraid that if she continued everything might come pouring out. “I just got tired of talking about the law. I wanted to start doing something about it.”
“Fair enough. When the pressure around here lets up a little bit, maybe you can tell your dad that. That sounds like something Nelson could understand.”
“Okay. Sure.”
They counted out cash to cover the check and the tip and then wended their way back through the crowd toward the door. Outside, they walked briskly in companionable silence back to the training center where Reese had left her SUV.
“Things will get busy at home pretty soon preparing for the season,” Reese said, leaning one shoulder against the driver’s door of the black Blazer. “With Tory…you know, being pregnant…I don’t know when I’ll be able to get back this way again.”
Bri’s stomach lurched, but she kept her expression blank.
“Call me.” Reese clapped Bri on the shoulder. “Come for a visit whenever you can, and we’ll train. Okay?”
“Thanks, I will.”
Reese studied Bri’s face, trying to get a glimpse of what was happening inside her. All she could see were hints of her pain. The memory of the shadows in the younger woman’s eyes haunted her all the way home.
*
With a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, Bri watched the taillights of Reese’s Blazer disappear into the night. Suddenly at loose ends, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket and looked around the deserted parking lot. The options were few. She could go back inside the gym and work out until she felt tired enough to sleep, or she could head back down the road to the tavern and at least be in the company of other people. That might take her mind off the empty feeling that snaked through her body. Not wanting to think about that, she strode quickly to her cycle, swung one long leg over the low-slung tank, and fit her key to the ignition. Ignoring the helmet strapped to the rear, she kick-started the engine, slammed into gear, and tore off into the dark.
A few minutes later, she settled on a stool at one end of the still-crowded bar and ordered a club soda. She wasn’t thinking about much of anything at all, just aimlessly turning the glass on the bar, wondering what Caroline was doing, when a soft female voice spoke very close to her ear.
“You’re back awfully soon.”
Bri swiveled on the seat and met the eyes of one of her academy classmates, a softly beautiful dark-haired young woman about her own age. They’d nodded to one another in class but had never engaged in conversation.
“There’s not much to do around here on the weekend,” Bri said noncommittally.
“You’ve got that right. Do you mind if I keep you company for a while?”
“No, suit yourself.” Bri was oddly uncomfortable, and uncertain why. Maybe it was just that she wasn’t used to casual conversations with strangers.
“I’m Allie Tremont.” Her voice was faintly Southern-accented and a delicate hand reached out.
“Bri Parker.” The handshake was surprisingly firm, Allie’s skin smooth and warm.
“Uh-huh. I know,” Allie replied. “Where are you from?”
“I’m a local. Provincetown. You?”
“South Carolina. Bet you can’t tell, though.”
“Uh…” Bri grinned. “A little.”
“My mom got a job at Woods Hole Marine Biological Laboratory near Falmouth when I was a junior in high school. So I’m sorta local, too.”
They both laughed. After a moment, Bri offered, “Can I get you a drink or something?”
“I’m okay with this one.” Allie lifted her bottle of beer. “So what do you think of the academy so far?”
“It’s about like I expected.” In truth, Bri didn’t pay much attention to her classmates. Her entire focus was on the material and what she needed to do to meet the academic and training requirements for graduation. Because many of the cadets had come from previous jobs and had diverse educational backgrounds, the training program was very flexible and allowed the trainees a great deal of independence when arranging their schedules. Bri had mapped out a course of study that would get her through in the shortest possible time.
“The guys don’t seem to give you much trouble,” Allie observed wryly.
“Are they bothering you?” Bri regarded her companion seriously and was surprised to notice how dark her eyes were, almost liquid. Then she realized she was staring and quickly studied her soda.
“Not really.” The young woman’s tone, however, lacked conviction.
“But someone said something to you?”
“Not exactly. Just the usual offhand remarks about women not being strong enough to handle a physical confrontation. That kind of crap.”
“Hand-to-hand combat isn’t about how big you are,” Bri said intently. “Or how strong. It’s about how you use the resources that you have.”
“I heard that you’re some kind of martial arts master.”
“Hardly.” Bri laughed to hide her embarrassment. Luckily, it was too dark for Allie to see her blush. “I’ve had some training, but I have a lot more to learn.”
The young woman casually put her hand on Bri’s wrist below the cuff of her jacket, then leaned closer to talk. “I saw you in the physical training section the other day. You knocked that big blond guy, Jacobs, on his ass like he was a feather.”
“That’s because the idiot rushed me. With that kind of move, they have so much forward momentum that if you simply sidestep and redirect, they’ll go right over. It’s totally a matter of using your own center of gravity against theirs.”
“So, do you think you could work out with me sometime? Like a training partner, maybe?”
Bri glanced down at the fingers lightly curled around her forearm and was suddenly uncertain. She didn’t have many friends; she never had. Just Caroline and a few of the kids who hung out at Reese’s dojo. Most of the friends they’d made in Manhattan were Caroline’s classmates from art school. She’d never wanted anyone else’s company. Caroline was enough. The pang of loneliness that shot through Bri made her breath catch, and she looked away.
“I’d pay you back. I’m a pretty good cook.”
“Sure…I guess so.” Bri looked back and tried to smile. The fingers on her arm were warm. “I mean, I don’t know that I can teach you anything that you won’t get from the instructors. But, I guess that would be okay.”
“Great.” Allie gave her a winning smile. She didn’t move her hand.
Chapter Five
It was well after midnight when Reese pulled into the driveway beside her home. The house was dark, but Tory’s Jeep was gone. Immediately, Reese reversed her vehicle and backed out onto the road, gravel spewing from beneath the SUV’s tires. She headed west along the narrow strip of highway between Provincetown Harbor on the left and the outskirts of town on the right. Within a minute, she was heading down Bradford, and after another thirty seconds, she turned onto the side road that fronted the East End Health Clinic. The building was dark; the parking lot empty.
Damn it. Where is she?
Reese pulled over, extracted her cell phone from the glove compartment, and punched in the number to the sheriff’s department. One of her officers answered. “Lyons, it’s Conlon.”
“Yo, Reese. What’s up?”
“Is there any kind of medical emergency in town that you’re aware of?” Her heart was thudding erratically, but nothing showed in her voice. Maybe she’s sick. Maybe something happened, and she couldn’t reach me. Jesus, maybe—
“There’s a big two-car crash on Route 6 coming west from Pilgrim Heights. Smith called for the EMTs about forty minutes ago.”
“Did anyone call
Tory?”
“Don’t know. Not from here, but maybe the squad did. They will, you know, if it’s a messy one.”
I know. Everyone calls her when there’s trouble. “Thanks, Jeff.”
Reese put the SUV into gear and sped toward the main highway that ran the length of Cape Cod. Five minutes later, she parked on the narrow shoulder behind a sheriff’s cruiser, a fire truck, two EMS vans, and Tory’s Jeep Cherokee. Emergency lights strobed wildly from the tops of all the vehicles, sending colored light beams streaking disjointedly across the blacktop and into the starless night sky. The sound of radio chatter crackling from open doors of vehicles and people shouting directions added to the chaotic atmosphere.
Hurriedly, Reese grabbed her Mag-Lite from the emergency kit in the rear of the Blazer and clipped her badge to her belt. Then she made her way around the road cones, stepped over the flares that crisscrossed the highway, and walked between the haphazardly parked cars and trucks toward the center of activity. There, she got a clear view of a minivan resting against the guardrail, its front end a crumpled mass of metal and shattered glass. Oil and other fluids pooled under the frame in glistening dark puddles. The street-side doors stood ajar, apparently having sprung from their hinges as a result of the collision or having been pried open with the hydraulic Jaws of Life. The other vehicle was nowhere in sight, and neither was Tory.
“Is Dr. King here?” Reese asked the first EMT she identified. The man was bent over a victim who was strapped to a stretcher. Reese couldn’t tell through the blood on the patient’s face if this one was a man or woman.
Without looking up, the technician said sharply, “She’s down with the second car, I think.”
Reese looked around and didn’t see another vehicle. Down? Down where?
Following the skid marks on the highway, Reese reconstructed the accident in her mind. One vehicle traveling east—doing sixty from the looks of it—crosses the median and slams the minivan head on. Poor bastards in that never had a chance. Guard rail stops the minivan, and the other vehicle veers off…fuck!…into the salt marsh.
