by J. J. Jones
“Oh, thanks,” I reply knowing that although he is pretending to be polite to me, he is really annoyed that someone is here so early.
“Are you the only guy here this morning?” I say trying to get a feeling if my guy was here.
“Yeah, it’s just me until noon, then my boss shows up – the owner of the place,” he replies, letting his voice sound a little annoyed.
“Oh, well that’s fine. I was just wondering – well actually, I wanted to know about a guy that works here, his name is Gerald Thompson.”
“Oh, Gerald doesn’t work here anymore, why? What’d you hear about him? If you need some work done, he wasn’t any good anyway,” the man continues.
“Oh, he doesn’t work here anymore?” I raise my eyebrows hoping this guy knows more about Gerald than he doesn’t work here anymore and that he was a terrible body shop mechanic. “Do you know where he works now?”
“I don’t think he has a job, to be honest,” the man answers me. “Shit, I doubt our boss gave him any kind of a referral after the shitty jobs he did here. Anyway, he’s probably just getting drunk somewhere. That was the problem most of the time with him. He would come to work drunk all the time, and then try to pretend he could work just fine. He was an asshole, too.”
“Oh, I see,” I listen carefully. “Did he have a favorite bar or somewhere you could always find him?”
“Probably,” the man all of sudden became suspicious of me and didn’t want to say more. “Who are you anyway? He owe you money or something?”
“Something like that,” I reply hoping to get more information.
“Well I told you all I know about Gerald, so if you aren’t getting your car fixed, you best be getting on your way,” the man started to force me toward the door.
“Hey man, I really appreciate it, thanks for your help,” I stick out my hand.
Reluctantly he extends his and we shake hands. “Sure.”
“What was your name again?” I ask nonchalantly as I slowly turn to walk out the door.
“Jack, my name’s Jack,” he replies, even though I already know his name’s Jack.
“Well that’s such a coincidence. My name is Jack, too. Crazy. My name was passed down to me from my grandfather. My father had it as a middle name.”
“That’s crazy, mine too,” the man’s face lightened and the mood in the room changed completely.
“Family names, right? I suppose Jack wouldn’t be my first choice as a name, but when you’re given a family name there’s not much you can do about it.” Everything I say is bullshit. Jack isn’t a family name, but after reading his thoughts and seeing into his mind, I can sense all these details about him and by creating a fast kinship, I know he will spill any other details he knows about Gerald.
“Oh my God, it’s like we are brothers or something. I have considered changing my name before, but never had the guts to do it because I know it would break my dad’s heart,” he laughs.
I try my best to laugh in return.
“Well I guess I better be off,” I grab for the handle to the door.
“Hey man, I don’t know why you’re looking for Gerald, but you seem like a straight up guy. I know that he spends a lot of time at a bar downtown called “Five.” If you’re looking for him, you’ll probably be able to find him there.”
“Thanks, Jack, I appreciate it, if I ever need any bodywork done on my car, I know where to come.” I reach for the handle and walk out of the door as I hear him say something inaudibly behind me.
Chapter5
“That’s probably how you stay so skinny Jack, dieting all the time,”
Sergeant Brogan
I know that I will be one of the last to arrive at the station now, because of my small detour. As I walk up the stairs to the office, I contemplate how I will be able to go to this bar downtown without appearing suspicious.
As a police detective I know about “Five.” It is a bar for the younger crowd and someone my age, or of the age I look, really wouldn’t go there, especially alone. If I were to go to a bar like that alone, the girls there would think I was trying to pick up on them, and the guys would become very territorial. It just doesn’t work. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I need some sort of cover story to go.
“Detective,” Sergeant Brogan greets me as I walk into the office.
“Sergeant,” I nod back in his direction.
“A little late this morning,” he says glancing up at the clock on the wall.
I notice that it is just past eleven. “Yeah, I was following up on a lead from the case yesterday, the vampire vigilante.”
“And?” Sergeant Brogan asks.
“Oh, it turned out to be nothing. A dead end,” I reply as I move to my desk and sit down trying to end the conversation.
“I see, that’s too bad. We could use a break in that case,” Sergeant Brogan moves closer to my desk.
“Yeah, we could use something,” I reply. “We have found ourselves a tough one with the vampire vigilante, but he’ll slip up eventually. He’ll make a mistake. And when he does we’ll be there to catch him, sir.” I act positive and loyal to the cause.
“Yes, yes we will,” he agrees almost nostalgically. “Come on, the station is providing lunch today. The rest of the officers are already in the break room enjoying it.”
He points to the break room where I can now see everyone gathered around talking and eating. I hate social events like these. There are extremely frustrating for me since regular human food and drink does nothing for me. I can manage to choke it down for the sake of not offending others or keeping my image up, but I try my hardest to keep to myself at meal times. This prevents me from having to lie my way through a meal. Things like last night, when I went out “for drinks” with Tom and Olivia is difficult enough for me sometimes.
It’s not that I hate human food, although some of it I suppose I do, but it’s just the fact that I receive no pleasure from eating or drinking it at all, so I really have to concentrate in order to keep myself eating or drinking. It’s really annoying.
I follow Sergeant Brogan into the break room and acknowledge a few people as we enter the room. Much of the gaiety and joking around that was obviously happening before, ceases when the Sergeant comes in.
It’s not completely his fault that people react to him this way. I wonder sometimes if there is a different person behind his staunch, rude, and uptight personality. It makes me think that maybe he acts the way he does because of his position and roll.
“Come on, get some food,” Olivia grabs my arm and brings me over to the table. “I’m not going to say it’s the best, but it’s free lunch, so you won’t here me complaining.”
Pretty soon Olivia has made me a heaping plate of food, and I can feel my stomach dropping at the idea of eating it all. I grab a fork and begin to push the food around on my plate hoping that it will look like I have eaten some.
Olivia pulls me from crowd to crowd and we chat with different people. I think in almost any other situation, I would feel uncomfortable at someone being so close and invading my personal bubble, but because it is Olivia, I don’t mind nearly as much. In fact, whenever she reaches out to touch my arm, I find myself feeling warm all over.
“Detective, you’ve barely touched your food,” Sergeant Brogan’s voice is booming behind me. “How come you’re not eating anything?”
“Oh, I’m eating,” I reply, searching my brain for the right thing to say. “I’m just enjoying it as well as the company.” I motion around the room at all the people.
“Yeah, sure,” Sergeant Brogan’s voice seems to stand out over all the other talking in the room and I can feel the eyes of the other officer’s turning toward me.
I quickly take a bite a food, chew it and swallow in order to show the Sergeant that I am eating the food. When I finish with the bite, I force a smile.
“You must just be on one of those weird diets that only lets you eat like five hundred calories a day or someth
ing like that. Fried chicken isn’t on a diet like that, eh?” He thunders a laugh at his own joke.
I force a laugh, too nodding my head.
“That’s probably how you stay so skinny Jack, dieting all the time,” Sergeant Brogan continues, but the conversation didn’t really seem directed just at me anymore.
I sigh with relief, feeling that I have just dodged a bullet.
Sergeant Brogan goes on complaining about diets and doctors and how unhealthy people are looking these days. I stop listening and turn my attention back to Olivia.
“Are you on a diet?” she asks.
“No,” I reply smiling. “But if he wants to think I am, that’s fine with me.”
Olivia smiles, too. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel so comfortable around her. There are moments I wish she knew the truth about me, but those moments are fleeting, and I know they can never be real.
Some of the officers start to file out of the room as the food seems to be disappearing. When I first arrived there was plenty, but now it seems that different dishes have disappeared from the table. I don’t spend time or energy worrying about it.
The room feels less crowded and it isn’t as noisy.
“So where were you this morning, Jack?” Olivia asks me.
“Oh, I was just following up on a lead from yesterday. A lead on the vampire vigilante,” I reply, “but it didn’t pan out. It was a dead end.” I quickly add.
“Oh, that sucks,” Olivia replies. “I wish we could catch a break with that one. I mean it would great to actually catch him before we have to get the FBI involved. Do you think we should get them involved soon?” she asks.
“Probably,” I reply. “We don’t know how many kills he has made. We only have a few on record, but all the patterns are the same. It makes him a serial killer and possibly a vampire. Both instances we are supposed to contact the FBI. I don’t know why we haven’t contacted them yet.”
“Brogan doesn’t want to admit that we have a vampire problem in our section of the town. He wants to ignore it and hopes that it will go away, or maybe he wants to be the one to catch the Vampire himself and look the hero. If it really is a vampire that is.” Olivia continues the conversation.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I agree with her. “But I don’t think this thing is leaving anytime soon. He seems to have set up shop here in our jurisdiction. Well at least as far as we can tell. I guess it’s possible that he’s making or has made kills elsewhere in the city.”
“Yeah,” her voice was far away and quiet like she was contemplating something.
“Olivia?” I ask gently.
“Hmm?” she replies.
“I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to go out tonight, for drinks or something,” I ask trying to keep it low key.
“With Tom, too?” she asks.
“I wasn’t going to invite Tom, but if you’d rather we invite Tom as well, we could,” I offer and begin to reach for my phone.
“No,” she jumps in quickly with her reply. “No, Tom doesn’t need to come. We can go out just the two of us.”
The way she said “two of us” sent shivers through me. Like everything else it is hard for me to explain, except to say I liked the feeling.
“Alright, we can just meet up after work and head to a bar I’ve been meaning to try. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard good things.” I lied to her, which made me feel guilty, but I didn’t know how else to get her to go with me to “Five.” I had found my cover, Olivia and I would go to the bar together, and I would hopefully find my opportunity to see Gerald and work him out.
**
After work, I quickly change into something more causal. I drive back to the precinct to meet up with Olivia. She looks nice and casual as well. She’s wearing skinny jeans with boots and a nice form fitting low cut top. I can’t help but stare at her low neckline as we walk out to my car. I’ve never seen her dressed this way before, and my imagination is running a little wild.
Once I open her door and start to walk around the car back to my own side, I stop for a second to remind myself that I am still working tonight even though I am out with Olivia. I need to stay focused and not let her distract me.
The drive downtown is quiet and awkward. I can’t think of anything to say, and Olivia is constantly rummaging through her purse as if she is looking for something that is eternally lost. I can’t believe that we work together everyday and yet in a situation like this we can’t think of anything to say to each other.
Finally we arrive downtown and the fresh air seems to do both of us some good. We walk into the bar and I can tell that Olivia is a little surprised at the choice, but she chooses not to say anything, which of course I appreciate. If this were a real date I would have obviously chosen somewhere nicer, I just hope Olivia does not see this as a “date” situation.
We get a table in the back and sit across from each other.
“I’ll go get us some drinks from the bar,” I offer. “Is there anything in particular you want?”
“Oh I’ll drink whatever you’re drinking,” she smiles.
Shit. That’s usually what I do. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to choose something and hope it’s not awful.
A few minutes later I come back to the table with a beer for each of us.
“I didn’t know if you liked light or dark or whatever, so I just got what they had on tap. I hope that’s okay.” I hand her a glass.
“Totally fine,” she replies and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“I also ordered some of their specialty drinks; a waitress will bring those out when they’re ready. I’m not really sure what they are, but the bartender recommended them, so hopefully they’re good,” I smile.
“I’m sure they’ll be fantastic. Bartenders usually know what they’re talking about,” she reassures me with a smile settling my nerves.
“Yeah,” I reply taking a long drink of beer and briefly looking around the place.
“So tell me more about Mr. Jack Van Pierre,” Olivia asks. “Where are you from? Where’d you grow up and stuff? You have never told me anything..”
“Oh my history is boring,” I try to wave her off. “I am just a boring guy, with a boring life. Nothing too exciting to tell.”
“I don’t care if it’s exciting or not, I just want to know.” she continues to push.
“Well, I grew up on the west coast. My parents were great. We had a nice little house by the beach. I have one other brother. He’s still out that way doing business. Both my parents are gone now. They were smokers, so lung cancer took them a few years back.” I tried to keep things simple.
“I’m sorry to hear about your parents, that’s awful,” Olivia reaches across the table and rests her hand on my arm sending shivers down my spine again.
“It’s okay. I have learned valuable lessons from them. One of which is to never pick up the habit of smoking. I’ll never try one, not even one. Watching your parents die of lung cancer isn’t pretty. But you move on, find new things.” I put my other hand on hers.
“And what about your brother? Are you very close with your brother?” Olivia asks.
“Um, not really anymore. I used to be, back when I lived closer to him, but now that we live so far apart, it’s harder to be close.” I look away and sincerely miss my brother for a moment but that is another story for another day. “What about you?” I ask trying to turn the conversation. “You always live in New York?”
“Yeah, well kind of,” she starts. “My family is from upstate New York. I grew-up loving the city though. We would come down here a few times a year for vacations and for my dad’s work. I think I always knew I would end up here. It’s nice though because my family is still pretty close. It’s only a four-hour drive to go up to see them. I don’t make it up there as often as I should, but holidays and stuff we get to spend together.”
“That’s nice,” I reply knowing that things like that are important to humans.
“So what a
bout relationships, Jack? How come you don’t have a girlfriend? You are like the perfect guy. You’ve got a great job, good looks, a nice personality. You’ve got it all, except the girl, the kids, the nice house with a white picket fence,” she raises her eyebrows.
I get a little lost towards the end of her references with the white picket fence, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand what she is implying. “Oh, I had that kind of stuff once,” I say trying to look nostalgic. “It just didn’t work out for me. I don’t think I am the kind of guy that is cut out for relationships and marriage, the kids, and the house with the picket fence – I mean the white picket fence,” I quickly correct myself.
