2.2.1 - Leave the Pieces
2.2.1 - Leave the Pieces
I rest against the high, leather back of the booth I’m in. Taking in the smooth jazz that’s being played towards the rear of the club, I think it’s these small moments that I live for. Where everything is perfect; with a nice, smooth bourbon to drink, time with my friends and great music. I feel more at home here than anywhere else sometimes. Even the cigarette smoke adds to the feel of the place as I pick up small bits of conversation mixed with the clink and clatter of glasses and beer bottles.
“Nor,” Ann’s voice sounds to my left, bringing me out of my head and causing me to turn and crack an eye in her direction. “You didn’t fall asleep on me did you?” She smirks at me and I laugh.
“No, I most certainly did not. I’m just enjoying the moment,” I say as I pick up my drink and take a sip. “Seeing as how you’re leaving me, we won’t have the chance to do this much anymore.”
She nods and a small look of regret passes over her features. Reaching for her hand, I give it a squeeze and say, “It’s a good thing.”
She sighs wistfully and with her drink in her hand, points to the bar. “I can’t lie. I’d follow that woman into Hell.”
I turn my gaze to the backside of Jill and laugh. I know that’s true. “Of course,” I say, “the fact that going back to Richmond means you’re also joining up and becoming a suit doesn’t hurt.”
She blushes and nods. “Can you blame me? A chance in the Bureau is nearly a dream come true.”
“Can’t believe you’re going federal on me.” I shake my head.
“They would offer you a spot,” she says, teasing.
She and I both know that’s the last damn thing I’d want to do.
“Although that’d mean leaving the great state of Louisiana,” she purrs.
“That ain’t gonna happen. I’d have to give up this newly minted detective’s shield for a suit and high heels. Besides, Special Agent Flemming, I’m a Southerner and I damn well intend to stay that way.” I make of show of pounding my fist against the tabletop for emphasis and it sends her into a fit of giggles.
I’m gonna miss hearing her laugh.
Once she gets herself under control, she sobers and looks back up at the bar. “Nor, you gonna be okay?”
I grin. “I got on without you for twenty-one years; I think I can manage not having you around all day every day. It does mean you have to visit though.”
“That,” she says as she slings an arm around my shoulders, “is something I can most definitely do.” She pulls me tight and says, “So, since you won’t have my gorgeous ass to look at, what are you gonna do about the gorgeous ass you’ve been dating for the past four months?” She air quotes the word ‘dating’ and sends me a sour look.
“The same as I have been,” I say shrugging. I look back up at the bar and Jill and Casey are still talking. How Casey is able to fill drink orders and listen to Jill talk is beyond me, but they both seem to be enjoying themselves.
“So the idea of settling down a bit in a serious relationship doesn’t appeal?” She smirks at me. I hate it when she looks at me like that. “Nora, baby, darling, suggapie, you know, that I know that you are probably one of the world’s last true romantics. You are the type of woman that was born for a serious relationship.” She raises a sculpted eyebrow at me and presses, “What gives?”
I squirm. “It’s not her…”
“It’s me,” she echoes and mocks. Pursing her lips, her arms fold across her chest and she says, “Bullshit. But I’ll give you your bullshit for a moment and ask you this: If it were me, where would we be today?”
I sit slack jawed, rubbing the back of my neck. How exactly do I answer that?
Apparently, I don’t have to. “Nora, forget what your parents say or think. I know you. Casey’s a nice girl. She’s smart and fucking hilarious. It also doesn’t hurt that she’s drop dead gorgeous with big, brown doe eyes that melt every time she sees you.”
The corner of my mouth turns up in a smirk. Yeah, she really does have some of the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. Sighing, I hold my hand up in concession. “Ann, I appreciate it, but it’s just not the right time. Do you understand?”
She looks at me for a minute before nodding. “That tune will change Nora Delaney. When you meet the right woman, that tune will most certainly change.”
Luckily, I’m saved from any more mothering as Jill slides in next to Ann and Casey’s body presses against mine. I turn my head and accept the hello kiss. Pulling back, I ask, “Break?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, I’m all done. Eddie took over so I can spend the last night out with some friends before they hightail it out of NOLA.”
Jill and Ann beam and I can’t help but smile. Happy that they are happy. I’m going to miss both of them, Ann more than Jill, although she’s become a good friend too, but Ann will be missed the most. I raise my tumbler and wait for the ladies at my table to do the same. With our drinks held high, I toast, “To Jill and Ann. May the great state of Louisiana bite you in the ass on your way out and may that bite be followed by years of happiness.”
Our glasses clink in a chorus of ‘here here’s' as I settle in for a memorable evening.
I stuff my gym bag inside my locker and grab my holstered gun. Clipping it to my belt, I also make sure my badge is secured on the opposite hip. I smile. Sometimes it’s the small things that just make everything alright. I make my way out of the women’s locker room and head straight for my desk, making sure to say hello to some of the officers scattered around.
By the time I make it through the maze of desks my partner’s just sitting down at his. As usual he’s red faced and huffing. Jerry’s not a horrible guy. We just don’t get along real well. I smile at him and say, “Mornin’.”
“Nora,” he acknowledges my presence with a nod and begins to check his voice mail.
Right, he’s going to be in rare form today. I take my seat and check through the messages Patty pulled for me this morning before I got in. The first one just reads, “Crazy cat lady wants to report that she’s being spied on.” And below in red block lettering, “DO NOT CALL - third call this week.” I laugh, crumple it up and toss it in the trash. The next is from a witness I need to follow up with. I debate calling him right now, but stop. He’s a night foreman at a local warehouse. He’s probably just now getting to sleep.
Setting that aside, I look at the other two. One’s from my mom, the other is “Special Agent Flemming called said that she needs to speak with you. Call when you can 804-555-1546 said something about getting ready to eat peaches…?” I laugh and shake my head.
Of course she would. They’ve been gone three months and it seems the only thing the northern air has done for Ann is make her a tad more of a pervert. I crumple the message and toss it in the trash, making a note to call her on my lunch break.
“Delaney,” Jerry says garnering my attention. “Cap’n called said there was another jump last night. Wants us to see if it’s related to the one we caught the other day.” He stands to leave and I toss my mother’s message on to my desk.
She’s going to have to wait.
Catching up to Jerry isn’t that hard. The man moves slower than molasses on his good days. Today isn’t one of his good days. His eyes are bloodshot and he has two day old stubble that would make sandpaper jealous.
“I’m driving,” I declare before he even has a chance to fish his keys out his pockets. I’m not sure if he’s still drunk or just horribly hungover. I’m really not takin’ any chances one way or the other.
He grumps, but still follows me to my baby. I run a hand over the shiny, black, wax coated surface of June Lee, my nineteen-sixty-eight El Camino. I pat her lovingly and whisper, “Mama loves you.” Jerry’s opens the passenger door and manages to annoy me by slamming it closed behind him. Another soft pat and a coo, “Even if some don’t, but I’ll get him for you.”
I slip inside the car and crank the engine over. It really is music to my ears.
I pull out of the parking as Jerry gives me the name of the hospital of our latest victim. I head south and am parked in the hospital visitor’s lot in under fifteen minutes. Given the mid-morning traffic, I’m mildly pleased with myself.
Jerry stumbles out of June and snaps, “Could you have gotten here breaking more traffic laws?”
I shrug and say, “Probably, but I didn’t want to give that old ticker of yours a reason to quit on me before we got here.”
I ignore the grumbling under his breath and follow him inside.
The hospital’s like any other. White linoleum floors, off white walls, with hideous splashes of color. We flash our badges and ask for the name of the latest victim, Ryan Luther. The candy striper on duty sends us up three flights of stairs to room three-twenty-one.
I put a hand on Jerry’s arm and stop him before he steps through the open door. “Let me do the talking with this one, Jerr.” Not leaving him anytime to respond, I dart inside the low lighted room. I only notice one occupant as I walk over to the bed and see the battered face of Ryan Luther. He has stitches in his forehead and cheek. One eye is swollen shut while the rest of his face is varying shades of purple and blue. One arm is elevated and wrapped in a cast.
Whoever did this was mad, that much is obvious. An image of Wyle E. Coyote comes to mind and I resist the urge to snark about the roadrunner. Sometimes I think being a cop has done nothing for my sense of compassion and empathy.
Approaching the bed cautiously, I say, “Hi Ryan. My name’s Detective Delaney and this is my partner, Detective Tombridge. We’re with the N.O.P.D. and we’d like to ask you some questions about the attack.”
He blinks at me and finally manages to find his voice, “There ain’t much to say. I was walkin’ home and got jumped. Didn’t see anyone, don’t know what any of ‘em looked like.”
So there was more than one. That’s one consistency with the other beating. I ask for clarification, “So there was more than one attacker?”
He tries to roll his eyes and sigh, but only manages to cause himself pain. Instead, he snips, “I dunno. Maybe. It was hard to tell after the first kick to my head.”
I nod. The boy’s already shut down and I know that he won’t say anything anymore. Time to cut ties and scram. “Alright,” I say pulling a card from the back pocket of my jeans. “I’m going to leave you my card. If you think of anything that might help, please call.” I set the card on the bedside table and add, “We think your attack might be related to another. We’d like to stop others from getting hurt. Anything you might have to tell us could be helpful.”
I turn around and pull Jerry out of the room.
“Ya know, Delaney,” Jerry drawls on our ride down to the lobby, “he ain’t gonna say nothin’ else. Kid's scared. Just like the other.”
I want to disagree. I want to tell him to stuff it. I don’t. He’s right and we can’t rely on the victims to help us with this.
We make our way back outside and the spring chill has given away to muggy heat and I find myself wondering why I was wishin’ for the summer to come so soon.
Fingers ghost up and down my back, causing me to mumble, “If you keep at that, Casey Gerard, you and I will not be going to sleep anytime soon.”
She giggles. “Is that such a bad thing?”
I roll over and in one swift movement capture her in my arms. “Yeah,” I inform, kissing her forehead and then her cheek. “I need to be at the hospital in the morning.”
She grows quiet and then asks, “How’s he doing?”
I shrug. “He’s dying.”
Her arms wrap around me tighter as she snuggles further into me. Gladly I accept the offer of comfort. I won’t talk about it much. Really there’s not much to say. He’s my dad. He raised me, he’s made me who I am and there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for him. If I could trade places with him, I would.
I can’t.
And that’s the most frustrating thing.
This sense of helplessness that’s infused me. I’m a cop for Christ’s sake and I can’t even save the one person responsible for making me who I am because…
Because it’s not an outside force that’s doing this. It’s a disease.
“Nora, baby, if you wanna,” she stops and fidgets with my hair, “I mean, look I know you and I are pretty casual, but if you wanna talk about it, I’m here.”
“Cas, there really isn’t much to say. The chemo isn’t working and they can’t radiate the lungs. We’ve been battling this for a year. I know the outcome.”
She tilts her head and looks up at me. “Maybe you do, but your dad’s dying of cancer and I know that has to hurt.”
I shrug and as I watch her look at me, I know I’m going to have to admit something. “It does, but I’ve accepted that. The only thing that I can hope for now is that he doesn’t suffer.”
Her head drops back down to rest between my breasts seeming to accept the answer I gave. Silently, I’m thankful for her not pressing the issue. It’s not something I want to talk to about. Especially not with her.
I run my fingers through her hair and love the way the short, silky strands slip through my fingers. I’m thankful I let her buy that drink those months ago and I’m also really happy that we can share a bed. It’s honestly one of the easiest relationships that I’ve had.
I smile as I think back to the first night we met. She took me home and she made it a point to inform me that she wasn’t a “relationship” type of gal.
My shirt is pulled over my head and the woman responsible for my current state of undress grins devilishly up at me. I lean in to recapture her lips, the need to move things along beginning to burn.
She stops me with a slim finger pressed against my lips and says, “Look, before this goes further, uh…”
She searches my face for something and my eyes narrow playfully, knowing what she’s looking for. Happily, I supply, “Nora.”
A rosy hue colors her cheeks a tad and she smiles at me, a huge thousand watt smile. “Thank you. Nora, I’m not…I do this every so often. Not real often mind you, but I don’t want you to think that this is going to turn into…”
I press a finger to her lips in a similar fashion. It’s really sweet that she’s taking the time to explain this to me, but at this moment I could really care less. My pants are down around my ankles, my panties are soaked and my bra is hanging from my shoulders. Smiling, I say, “Any and all legal disclosures, darling, are understood. We’re here to have fun - no strings, no promises in the morning, but I swear that if you don’t continue to do what we came here to do, I will sue for breach of contract.”
Her face lights up and she moves in to cover my lips with her own. Her hands go back to making sure that I’m naked and I try to do the same for her. I sigh and moan into her, glad that we’re both on the same page and that her hand has finally moved underneath my panties.
I find it funny that even as our first encounter was as casual as it could have possibly been, we’re still each other’s booty call over six months later. She’s got a key to my place, as I do hers, but it’s still a no label, no commitment arrangement that suits me just fine.
I’m also very thankful that Casey is as casual about it as I am or at least I hope she is. We’ve never really discussed it, but for some reason, tonight, there’s a need to know. “Cas?” I say softly not wanting to stir her if she’s sleeping.
“Hmm,” she answers back.
“Uh, I know this is a little late comin’, but what are we or what do you want us to be?” I ask nervously.
She turns her face up to me and blinks trying to adjust to the soft light of the room. “Eh?”
I take a hand and smooth away some of the hair that’s covering her beautiful face. “I was just thinkin’ that we’ve been doing this for awhile and I really don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
One of her hands comes up and mops her face, trying to catch up with the conversation I started. I should have just let well enough alone.
As she’s about to respond, my pager vibrates its way across the bedside table and we both groan. I reach for the stupid thing and read the display. Jerry’s number and nine-one-one appear on the small display. Instinctively, I reach for the phone. Dialing his number, I smile apologetically to Casey who smirks and buries her head back into my chest, playing with the smooth skin between my breasts.
“Tombridge,” my partner answers.
“Jerry, it’s five in the fucking morning. What gives?” I answer back.
“Delaney,” he semi-slurs into the line, “Well, good fuckin’ mornin’ to you too.”
And this is exactly what I don’t need. “Jer, what’s up?” I need to get him back on track.
“Oh, yeah, uh,” he stops talking and I hear some rustling of some papers and he picks back up, “There’s another kid that got the shit kicked out of him. Same area, alley off Dauphine, near Toulouse.”
Well so much for sleep.
“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Are you gonna be at the scene?”
“Fuck yeah I’m gonna be there.”
I think a second before replying. “Jerry, look, why don’t you get some sleep. I’ll handle the techs, any witnesses and vic. Meet me at the station house at nine?”
Stony silence meets my offer, so I try again, “Jer, it won’t do either of us any good if both of us are sleep deprived. You come in fresh and then maybe let me cut out a bit early? It’d be a favor to me.”
He sighs and manages, “Yeah, alright Delaney. I’ll see you in a few hours.” The line goes dead and I exhale.
Well that was one fire put out. Now, if he’ll be sober by nine a.m. is a whole different story, but one can hope.
I set the phone down and Casey, grudgingly, rolls off me as I move to stand up. I pick up my scattered clothes, jeans, underwear, bra and a faded Zeppelin t-shirt that I wore over here. I manage to dress in the most efficient way possible and am nearly ready to go. I grab my gun and badge that I had rested on top of her dresser, securing them both to my belt.
Casey’s apartment is a large studio that I find mismatched and like her, uncomplicated. She’s risen from the bed and has found a pair of shorts and a tank top to put on before she walks me to the door. We hover at the doorway as she pulls me to her using my shirt as handles.
She rises on her tip toes and presses her lips firmly to mine. I find it cute that she’s so short. I’m not an Amazon, but I’m five-foot-seven-inches and Casey’s lucky if I give her five-feet even. She breaks away, leaving me warm and slightly hazed. A small blush colors my cheeks and she smirks. “We are what we are Nora. That’s what’s good about us.” She lays her hands on my shoulders and turns me around to face the hallway. “Now scoot. I need sleep and you have to go catch bad guys.”
With a swat on my ass, she sends me down the hallway and out of the building into the cool May morning. Fishing June’s keys from my pocket, I hop inside and head off towards the Quarter, not looking forward to whatever will be waiting on me there.
2.2.2 - Leave the Pieces
I rest against the high, leather back of the booth I’m in. Taking in the smooth jazz that’s being played towards the rear of the club, I think it’s these small moments that I live for. Where everything is perfect; with a nice, smooth bourbon to drink, time with my friends and great music. I feel more at home here than anywhere else sometimes. Even the cigarette smoke adds to the feel of the place as I pick up small bits of conversation mixed with the clink and clatter of glasses and beer bottles.
“Nor,” Ann’s voice sounds to my left, bringing me out of my head and causing me to turn and crack an eye in her direction. “You didn’t fall asleep on me did you?” She smirks at me and I laugh.
“No, I most certainly did not. I’m just enjoying the moment,” I say as I pick up my drink and take a sip. “Seeing as how you’re leaving me, we won’t have the chance to do this much anymore.”
She nods and a small look of regret passes over her features. Reaching for her hand, I give it a squeeze and say, “It’s a good thing.”
She sighs wistfully and with her drink in her hand, points to the bar. “I can’t lie. I’d follow that woman into Hell.”
I turn my gaze to the backside of Jill and laugh. I know that’s true. “Of course,” I say, “the fact that going back to Richmond means you’re also joining up and becoming a suit doesn’t hurt.”
She blushes and nods. “Can you blame me? A chance in the Bureau is nearly a dream come true.”
“Can’t believe you’re going federal on me.” I shake my head.
“They would offer you a spot,” she says, teasing.
She and I both know that’s the last damn thing I’d want to do.
“Although that’d mean leaving the great state of Louisiana,” she purrs.
“That ain’t gonna happen. I’d have to give up this newly minted detective’s shield for a suit and high heels. Besides, Special Agent Flemming, I’m a Southerner and I damn well intend to stay that way.” I make of show of pounding my fist against the tabletop for emphasis and it sends her into a fit of giggles.
I’m gonna miss hearing her laugh.
Once she gets herself under control, she sobers and looks back up at the bar. “Nor, you gonna be okay?”
I grin. “I got on without you for twenty-one years; I think I can manage not having you around all day every day. It does mean you have to visit though.”
“That,” she says as she slings an arm around my shoulders, “is something I can most definitely do.” She pulls me tight and says, “So, since you won’t have my gorgeous ass to look at, what are you gonna do about the gorgeous ass you’ve been dating for the past four months?” She air quotes the word ‘dating’ and sends me a sour look.
“The same as I have been,” I say shrugging. I look back up at the bar and Jill and Casey are still talking. How Casey is able to fill drink orders and listen to Jill talk is beyond me, but they both seem to be enjoying themselves.
“So the idea of settling down a bit in a serious relationship doesn’t appeal?” She smirks at me. I hate it when she looks at me like that. “Nora, baby, darling, suggapie, you know, that I know that you are probably one of the world’s last true romantics. You are the type of woman that was born for a serious relationship.” She raises a sculpted eyebrow at me and presses, “What gives?”
I squirm. “It’s not her…”
“It’s me,” she echoes and mocks. Pursing her lips, her arms fold across her chest and she says, “Bullshit. But I’ll give you your bullshit for a moment and ask you this: If it were me, where would we be today?”
I sit slack jawed, rubbing the back of my neck. How exactly do I answer that?
Apparently, I don’t have to. “Nora, forget what your parents say or think. I know you. Casey’s a nice girl. She’s smart and fucking hilarious. It also doesn’t hurt that she’s drop dead gorgeous with big, brown doe eyes that melt every time she sees you.”
The corner of my mouth turns up in a smirk. Yeah, she really does have some of the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. Sighing, I hold my hand up in concession. “Ann, I appreciate it, but it’s just not the right time. Do you understand?”
She looks at me for a minute before nodding. “That tune will change Nora Delaney. When you meet the right woman, that tune will most certainly change.”
Luckily, I’m saved from any more mothering as Jill slides in next to Ann and Casey’s body presses against mine. I turn my head and accept the hello kiss. Pulling back, I ask, “Break?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, I’m all done. Eddie took over so I can spend the last night out with some friends before they hightail it out of NOLA.”
Jill and Ann beam and I can’t help but smile. Happy that they are happy. I’m going to miss both of them, Ann more than Jill, although she’s become a good friend too, but Ann will be missed the most. I raise my tumbler and wait for the ladies at my table to do the same. With our drinks held high, I toast, “To Jill and Ann. May the great state of Louisiana bite you in the ass on your way out and may that bite be followed by years of happiness.”
Our glasses clink in a chorus of ‘here here’s' as I settle in for a memorable evening.
I stuff my gym bag inside my locker and grab my holstered gun. Clipping it to my belt, I also make sure my badge is secured on the opposite hip. I smile. Sometimes it’s the small things that just make everything alright. I make my way out of the women’s locker room and head straight for my desk, making sure to say hello to some of the officers scattered around.
By the time I make it through the maze of desks my partner’s just sitting down at his. As usual he’s red faced and huffing. Jerry’s not a horrible guy. We just don’t get along real well. I smile at him and say, “Mornin’.”
“Nora,” he acknowledges my presence with a nod and begins to check his voice mail.
Right, he’s going to be in rare form today. I take my seat and check through the messages Patty pulled for me this morning before I got in. The first one just reads, “Crazy cat lady wants to report that she’s being spied on.” And below in red block lettering, “DO NOT CALL - third call this week.” I laugh, crumple it up and toss it in the trash. The next is from a witness I need to follow up with. I debate calling him right now, but stop. He’s a night foreman at a local warehouse. He’s probably just now getting to sleep.
Setting that aside, I look at the other two. One’s from my mom, the other is “Special Agent Flemming called said that she needs to speak with you. Call when you can 804-555-1546 said something about getting ready to eat peaches…?” I laugh and shake my head.
Of course she would. They’ve been gone three months and it seems the only thing the northern air has done for Ann is make her a tad more of a pervert. I crumple the message and toss it in the trash, making a note to call her on my lunch break.
“Delaney,” Jerry says garnering my attention. “Cap’n called said there was another jump last night. Wants us to see if it’s related to the one we caught the other day.” He stands to leave and I toss my mother’s message on to my desk.
She’s going to have to wait.
Catching up to Jerry isn’t that hard. The man moves slower than molasses on his good days. Today isn’t one of his good days. His eyes are bloodshot and he has two day old stubble that would make sandpaper jealous.
“I’m driving,” I declare before he even has a chance to fish his keys out his pockets. I’m not sure if he’s still drunk or just horribly hungover. I’m really not takin’ any chances one way or the other.
He grumps, but still follows me to my baby. I run a hand over the shiny, black, wax coated surface of June Lee, my nineteen-sixty-eight El Camino. I pat her lovingly and whisper, “Mama loves you.” Jerry’s opens the passenger door and manages to annoy me by slamming it closed behind him. Another soft pat and a coo, “Even if some don’t, but I’ll get him for you.”
I slip inside the car and crank the engine over. It really is music to my ears.
I pull out of the parking as Jerry gives me the name of the hospital of our latest victim. I head south and am parked in the hospital visitor’s lot in under fifteen minutes. Given the mid-morning traffic, I’m mildly pleased with myself.
Jerry stumbles out of June and snaps, “Could you have gotten here breaking more traffic laws?”
I shrug and say, “Probably, but I didn’t want to give that old ticker of yours a reason to quit on me before we got here.”
I ignore the grumbling under his breath and follow him inside.
The hospital’s like any other. White linoleum floors, off white walls, with hideous splashes of color. We flash our badges and ask for the name of the latest victim, Ryan Luther. The candy striper on duty sends us up three flights of stairs to room three-twenty-one.
I put a hand on Jerry’s arm and stop him before he steps through the open door. “Let me do the talking with this one, Jerr.” Not leaving him anytime to respond, I dart inside the low lighted room. I only notice one occupant as I walk over to the bed and see the battered face of Ryan Luther. He has stitches in his forehead and cheek. One eye is swollen shut while the rest of his face is varying shades of purple and blue. One arm is elevated and wrapped in a cast.
Whoever did this was mad, that much is obvious. An image of Wyle E. Coyote comes to mind and I resist the urge to snark about the roadrunner. Sometimes I think being a cop has done nothing for my sense of compassion and empathy.
Approaching the bed cautiously, I say, “Hi Ryan. My name’s Detective Delaney and this is my partner, Detective Tombridge. We’re with the N.O.P.D. and we’d like to ask you some questions about the attack.”
He blinks at me and finally manages to find his voice, “There ain’t much to say. I was walkin’ home and got jumped. Didn’t see anyone, don’t know what any of ‘em looked like.”
So there was more than one. That’s one consistency with the other beating. I ask for clarification, “So there was more than one attacker?”
He tries to roll his eyes and sigh, but only manages to cause himself pain. Instead, he snips, “I dunno. Maybe. It was hard to tell after the first kick to my head.”
I nod. The boy’s already shut down and I know that he won’t say anything anymore. Time to cut ties and scram. “Alright,” I say pulling a card from the back pocket of my jeans. “I’m going to leave you my card. If you think of anything that might help, please call.” I set the card on the bedside table and add, “We think your attack might be related to another. We’d like to stop others from getting hurt. Anything you might have to tell us could be helpful.”
I turn around and pull Jerry out of the room.
“Ya know, Delaney,” Jerry drawls on our ride down to the lobby, “he ain’t gonna say nothin’ else. Kid's scared. Just like the other.”
I want to disagree. I want to tell him to stuff it. I don’t. He’s right and we can’t rely on the victims to help us with this.
We make our way back outside and the spring chill has given away to muggy heat and I find myself wondering why I was wishin’ for the summer to come so soon.
Fingers ghost up and down my back, causing me to mumble, “If you keep at that, Casey Gerard, you and I will not be going to sleep anytime soon.”
She giggles. “Is that such a bad thing?”
I roll over and in one swift movement capture her in my arms. “Yeah,” I inform, kissing her forehead and then her cheek. “I need to be at the hospital in the morning.”
She grows quiet and then asks, “How’s he doing?”
I shrug. “He’s dying.”
Her arms wrap around me tighter as she snuggles further into me. Gladly I accept the offer of comfort. I won’t talk about it much. Really there’s not much to say. He’s my dad. He raised me, he’s made me who I am and there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for him. If I could trade places with him, I would.
I can’t.
And that’s the most frustrating thing.
This sense of helplessness that’s infused me. I’m a cop for Christ’s sake and I can’t even save the one person responsible for making me who I am because…
Because it’s not an outside force that’s doing this. It’s a disease.
“Nora, baby, if you wanna,” she stops and fidgets with my hair, “I mean, look I know you and I are pretty casual, but if you wanna talk about it, I’m here.”
“Cas, there really isn’t much to say. The chemo isn’t working and they can’t radiate the lungs. We’ve been battling this for a year. I know the outcome.”
She tilts her head and looks up at me. “Maybe you do, but your dad’s dying of cancer and I know that has to hurt.”
I shrug and as I watch her look at me, I know I’m going to have to admit something. “It does, but I’ve accepted that. The only thing that I can hope for now is that he doesn’t suffer.”
Her head drops back down to rest between my breasts seeming to accept the answer I gave. Silently, I’m thankful for her not pressing the issue. It’s not something I want to talk to about. Especially not with her.
I run my fingers through her hair and love the way the short, silky strands slip through my fingers. I’m thankful I let her buy that drink those months ago and I’m also really happy that we can share a bed. It’s honestly one of the easiest relationships that I’ve had.
I smile as I think back to the first night we met. She took me home and she made it a point to inform me that she wasn’t a “relationship” type of gal.
My shirt is pulled over my head and the woman responsible for my current state of undress grins devilishly up at me. I lean in to recapture her lips, the need to move things along beginning to burn.
She stops me with a slim finger pressed against my lips and says, “Look, before this goes further, uh…”
She searches my face for something and my eyes narrow playfully, knowing what she’s looking for. Happily, I supply, “Nora.”
A rosy hue colors her cheeks a tad and she smiles at me, a huge thousand watt smile. “Thank you. Nora, I’m not…I do this every so often. Not real often mind you, but I don’t want you to think that this is going to turn into…”
I press a finger to her lips in a similar fashion. It’s really sweet that she’s taking the time to explain this to me, but at this moment I could really care less. My pants are down around my ankles, my panties are soaked and my bra is hanging from my shoulders. Smiling, I say, “Any and all legal disclosures, darling, are understood. We’re here to have fun - no strings, no promises in the morning, but I swear that if you don’t continue to do what we came here to do, I will sue for breach of contract.”
Her face lights up and she moves in to cover my lips with her own. Her hands go back to making sure that I’m naked and I try to do the same for her. I sigh and moan into her, glad that we’re both on the same page and that her hand has finally moved underneath my panties.
I find it funny that even as our first encounter was as casual as it could have possibly been, we’re still each other’s booty call over six months later. She’s got a key to my place, as I do hers, but it’s still a no label, no commitment arrangement that suits me just fine.
I’m also very thankful that Casey is as casual about it as I am or at least I hope she is. We’ve never really discussed it, but for some reason, tonight, there’s a need to know. “Cas?” I say softly not wanting to stir her if she’s sleeping.
“Hmm,” she answers back.
“Uh, I know this is a little late comin’, but what are we or what do you want us to be?” I ask nervously.
She turns her face up to me and blinks trying to adjust to the soft light of the room. “Eh?”
I take a hand and smooth away some of the hair that’s covering her beautiful face. “I was just thinkin’ that we’ve been doing this for awhile and I really don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
One of her hands comes up and mops her face, trying to catch up with the conversation I started. I should have just let well enough alone.
As she’s about to respond, my pager vibrates its way across the bedside table and we both groan. I reach for the stupid thing and read the display. Jerry’s number and nine-one-one appear on the small display. Instinctively, I reach for the phone. Dialing his number, I smile apologetically to Casey who smirks and buries her head back into my chest, playing with the smooth skin between my breasts.
“Tombridge,” my partner answers.
“Jerry, it’s five in the fucking morning. What gives?” I answer back.
“Delaney,” he semi-slurs into the line, “Well, good fuckin’ mornin’ to you too.”
And this is exactly what I don’t need. “Jer, what’s up?” I need to get him back on track.
“Oh, yeah, uh,” he stops talking and I hear some rustling of some papers and he picks back up, “There’s another kid that got the shit kicked out of him. Same area, alley off Dauphine, near Toulouse.”
Well so much for sleep.
“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Are you gonna be at the scene?”
“Fuck yeah I’m gonna be there.”
I think a second before replying. “Jerry, look, why don’t you get some sleep. I’ll handle the techs, any witnesses and vic. Meet me at the station house at nine?”
Stony silence meets my offer, so I try again, “Jer, it won’t do either of us any good if both of us are sleep deprived. You come in fresh and then maybe let me cut out a bit early? It’d be a favor to me.”
He sighs and manages, “Yeah, alright Delaney. I’ll see you in a few hours.” The line goes dead and I exhale.
Well that was one fire put out. Now, if he’ll be sober by nine a.m. is a whole different story, but one can hope.
I set the phone down and Casey, grudgingly, rolls off me as I move to stand up. I pick up my scattered clothes, jeans, underwear, bra and a faded Zeppelin t-shirt that I wore over here. I manage to dress in the most efficient way possible and am nearly ready to go. I grab my gun and badge that I had rested on top of her dresser, securing them both to my belt.
Casey’s apartment is a large studio that I find mismatched and like her, uncomplicated. She’s risen from the bed and has found a pair of shorts and a tank top to put on before she walks me to the door. We hover at the doorway as she pulls me to her using my shirt as handles.
She rises on her tip toes and presses her lips firmly to mine. I find it cute that she’s so short. I’m not an Amazon, but I’m five-foot-seven-inches and Casey’s lucky if I give her five-feet even. She breaks away, leaving me warm and slightly hazed. A small blush colors my cheeks and she smirks. “We are what we are Nora. That’s what’s good about us.” She lays her hands on my shoulders and turns me around to face the hallway. “Now scoot. I need sleep and you have to go catch bad guys.”
With a swat on my ass, she sends me down the hallway and out of the building into the cool May morning. Fishing June’s keys from my pocket, I hop inside and head off towards the Quarter, not looking forward to whatever will be waiting on me there.
2.2.2 - Leave the Pieces