[Original: Fiction] "The Night Shift" [Zeke Jones, G]
Title: The Night Shift
Prompt: writerverse challenge #36 TV tropes
Trope Used: Old Friend
Word Count: 1,283 words
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: An old friend of Zeke’s needs a favor.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
The Night Shift
I had just gotten home after the end of my shift when there was a knock on my apartment door.
I wasn’t really in the mood for company, not after a night of eleven separate disturbance calls, not one of which was answered with, “Sorry, officers, we’ll turn it down.” I’d hoped to come home to a blood-and-strawberry smoothie and the latest episode of Doctor Who, but it looked like I was out of luck.
Whoever it was knocked again, and I glanced at the ball of fur sitting on the back of my couch. Sammy- short for Samhain, part-sidhe, part-bakeneko and occasional supernatural detector- swiveled one ear toward the door, but didn’t move. Which meant it was probably one of my neighbors who had forgotten their key. Again.
“Coming!” I yelled, and went to open the door.
There was a woman standing on the other side. She was a little shorter than me, wearing a crisp blouse and skirt, dark hair artfully arranged, make-up so subtle it was barely noticeable. She was so utterly unlike any of my neighbors that it took me a moment to reconcile that picture-perfect image with a name.
“Theresa Lowe?” I asked.
She burst into tears.
“Oh, lord,” I muttered, and ushered her into my apartment. I was terrible with crying people, but I tried to be comforting. I steered her toward a kitchen chair and handed her a wad of paper towels. Finally, she slowed to intermittent sniffling and dabbed at her eyes.
“Theresa?” I tried again.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was so sure you wouldn’t recognize me. Although, it’s not Lowe anymore, it’s Meyers.”
“Congratulations.”
Theresa and I had gone to grade school together. We’d been pretty good friends, even, but we’d lost touch in high school, and I hadn’t seen her since. Actually, I probably hadn’t seen anyone I’d ever gone to school with in years, but Theresa was the first one to turn up at my door at the crack of dawn.
She blew her nose delicately. “I know it’s been a really long time, Zeke. But I need your help.”
“With what?” I asked, surprised.
“Edgar,” she said. “My husband. I’m worried about him. No, I know that he’s not cheating on me. It’s just that… he’s been working such odd hours, all of a sudden. And getting paid so much more! I didn’t want to question it, at first, not when we were able to pay off the mortgage and start putting aside something for Bethany’s college fund. But suddenly, he’s become so… so secretive and I’m worried… I’m worried he’s been working for the mob!”
“The mob?” I repeated. There was organized crime in Philadelphia, probably, not that anyone could prove it, but… “Theresa-”
“He’s an accountant,” she said. “Isn’t that always how they catch the mobsters in the movies? By having the accountants testify against them?”
“Real life doesn’t usually work like that,” I told her. “But, Theresa, why didn’t you go to the police, if you thought that? Or at least hire a private investigator to follow your husband?”
“I couldn’t go to the police!” said Theresa, shocked. “What if it got Eddie whacked?”
Seriously? “Theresa-”
“And none of the private investigators I spoke to would take the job. They wouldn’t even tell me why!”
I resisted the urge to sigh heavily. “Then what made you think I could help?”
“I’ve heard… rumors,” she said.
“What kind of rumors?” I asked, kind of dreading the answer. Normally, being Turned into a vampire was a step up in society, but I hadn’t exactly been welcomed by the vampire community. Which I was grateful for, since they were all total snobs, but it did make me wonder what sort of rumors a well-to-do ordinary human might have heard.
“Well,” said Theresa, hesitantly. “The last time I ran into somebody from school, they said you’d gone to school to be a librarian. But then I heard… I heard that you quit to become a cop.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s true.”
“It is?” she asked. “I was hoping… Then you can help me!”
“I…”
What could I do, really? She wasn’t asking me as a police officer, not really, so I wouldn’t have any authority to investigate. But I could look into a few things, and if there was anything going on, it would be a much better report coming for me. I sighed.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll help.”
Which was how I ended up at the end of the street in a way better section of town than I lived on, three days later, watching Edgar Meyers walk into an office building. He looked like any other man arriving at work, except for the fact that it was eleven-thirty at night. I settled back into the driver’s seat of my battered, little-used car and waited.
After two hours, I didn’t even flinch as the passenger door opened.
“Hello, sir.”
Howell slid a cup of coffee across the dashboard. “Honestly, when I got that message, I assumed you’d be doing something stupider.”
It was our day off, and I had called my partner before I’d come out here. I hadn’t left too many details on his answering machine, but just in case something went horribly wrong, he would know what I’d been doing. I should have known he’d come looking for me anyway.
“It’s a favor for an old friend,” I explained. “Her husband works here. She thinks he might be working for the mob.”
“And what do you think?” asked Howell.
“I have some suspicions,” I replied.
Howell didn’t say anything. He’d brought a coffee for himself, too, and we sat in silence drinking them, until there was another sign of movement from inside the building.
Edgar came out of the lobby again, walking with a man in a very expensive suit. He hailed a cab, and the other man got in. They talked for a moment more, then Edgar went back inside.
“Yep,” I said. “That’s what I thought.”
“Jones?”
“That man. The one that just got in the cab? That’s Trenton Towerbrook. A leading member of the Vampire Council.” I snorted a laugh. “The mob! He’s working for vampires. No wonder he’s been getting weird hours.”
“Then you know what you’ll tell your friend?”
“I… yeah,” I said. I fidgeted with the lid of my cup. “She came to me because I’m a cop. She doesn’t know about the vampires. Them or… or me.”
Howell scowled, thoughtfully. “Are you asking me if you should tell her?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I’ve never had to wonder about telling anyone before. Except for you, sort of, because you’d figured it out. My parents died the year before I was Turned, and they were the only family I had. By that point, I’d lost touch with most of the people I knew.”
“It’s good to have friends, Hezekia,” said Howell. “But I can’t tell you what to do- this time,” he added, when he spotted me starting to grin.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “And thanks. Do you want a ride home?”
He opened the door. “Go see your friend. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
“Good night, sir!” I called, and started the car. It was late, but I knew Theresa would want to hear from me right away.
I wouldn’t tell her exactly what her husband was doing, just that she should ask him, and suggest that he should trust her. But I also wouldn’t tell her that I was a vampire. Theresa was a good person, but she was part of my past.
Howell was right, I did need friends. And lucky for me, I had him.
THE END
Current Mood:
moody
Prompt: writerverse challenge #36 TV tropes
Trope Used: Old Friend
Word Count: 1,283 words
Rating: G
Original/Fandom: original ( Zeke Jones ‘verse)
Summary: An old friend of Zeke’s needs a favor.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
The Night Shift
I had just gotten home after the end of my shift when there was a knock on my apartment door.
I wasn’t really in the mood for company, not after a night of eleven separate disturbance calls, not one of which was answered with, “Sorry, officers, we’ll turn it down.” I’d hoped to come home to a blood-and-strawberry smoothie and the latest episode of Doctor Who, but it looked like I was out of luck.
Whoever it was knocked again, and I glanced at the ball of fur sitting on the back of my couch. Sammy- short for Samhain, part-sidhe, part-bakeneko and occasional supernatural detector- swiveled one ear toward the door, but didn’t move. Which meant it was probably one of my neighbors who had forgotten their key. Again.
“Coming!” I yelled, and went to open the door.
There was a woman standing on the other side. She was a little shorter than me, wearing a crisp blouse and skirt, dark hair artfully arranged, make-up so subtle it was barely noticeable. She was so utterly unlike any of my neighbors that it took me a moment to reconcile that picture-perfect image with a name.
“Theresa Lowe?” I asked.
She burst into tears.
“Oh, lord,” I muttered, and ushered her into my apartment. I was terrible with crying people, but I tried to be comforting. I steered her toward a kitchen chair and handed her a wad of paper towels. Finally, she slowed to intermittent sniffling and dabbed at her eyes.
“Theresa?” I tried again.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was so sure you wouldn’t recognize me. Although, it’s not Lowe anymore, it’s Meyers.”
“Congratulations.”
Theresa and I had gone to grade school together. We’d been pretty good friends, even, but we’d lost touch in high school, and I hadn’t seen her since. Actually, I probably hadn’t seen anyone I’d ever gone to school with in years, but Theresa was the first one to turn up at my door at the crack of dawn.
She blew her nose delicately. “I know it’s been a really long time, Zeke. But I need your help.”
“With what?” I asked, surprised.
“Edgar,” she said. “My husband. I’m worried about him. No, I know that he’s not cheating on me. It’s just that… he’s been working such odd hours, all of a sudden. And getting paid so much more! I didn’t want to question it, at first, not when we were able to pay off the mortgage and start putting aside something for Bethany’s college fund. But suddenly, he’s become so… so secretive and I’m worried… I’m worried he’s been working for the mob!”
“The mob?” I repeated. There was organized crime in Philadelphia, probably, not that anyone could prove it, but… “Theresa-”
“He’s an accountant,” she said. “Isn’t that always how they catch the mobsters in the movies? By having the accountants testify against them?”
“Real life doesn’t usually work like that,” I told her. “But, Theresa, why didn’t you go to the police, if you thought that? Or at least hire a private investigator to follow your husband?”
“I couldn’t go to the police!” said Theresa, shocked. “What if it got Eddie whacked?”
Seriously? “Theresa-”
“And none of the private investigators I spoke to would take the job. They wouldn’t even tell me why!”
I resisted the urge to sigh heavily. “Then what made you think I could help?”
“I’ve heard… rumors,” she said.
“What kind of rumors?” I asked, kind of dreading the answer. Normally, being Turned into a vampire was a step up in society, but I hadn’t exactly been welcomed by the vampire community. Which I was grateful for, since they were all total snobs, but it did make me wonder what sort of rumors a well-to-do ordinary human might have heard.
“Well,” said Theresa, hesitantly. “The last time I ran into somebody from school, they said you’d gone to school to be a librarian. But then I heard… I heard that you quit to become a cop.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s true.”
“It is?” she asked. “I was hoping… Then you can help me!”
“I…”
What could I do, really? She wasn’t asking me as a police officer, not really, so I wouldn’t have any authority to investigate. But I could look into a few things, and if there was anything going on, it would be a much better report coming for me. I sighed.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll help.”
Which was how I ended up at the end of the street in a way better section of town than I lived on, three days later, watching Edgar Meyers walk into an office building. He looked like any other man arriving at work, except for the fact that it was eleven-thirty at night. I settled back into the driver’s seat of my battered, little-used car and waited.
After two hours, I didn’t even flinch as the passenger door opened.
“Hello, sir.”
Howell slid a cup of coffee across the dashboard. “Honestly, when I got that message, I assumed you’d be doing something stupider.”
It was our day off, and I had called my partner before I’d come out here. I hadn’t left too many details on his answering machine, but just in case something went horribly wrong, he would know what I’d been doing. I should have known he’d come looking for me anyway.
“It’s a favor for an old friend,” I explained. “Her husband works here. She thinks he might be working for the mob.”
“And what do you think?” asked Howell.
“I have some suspicions,” I replied.
Howell didn’t say anything. He’d brought a coffee for himself, too, and we sat in silence drinking them, until there was another sign of movement from inside the building.
Edgar came out of the lobby again, walking with a man in a very expensive suit. He hailed a cab, and the other man got in. They talked for a moment more, then Edgar went back inside.
“Yep,” I said. “That’s what I thought.”
“Jones?”
“That man. The one that just got in the cab? That’s Trenton Towerbrook. A leading member of the Vampire Council.” I snorted a laugh. “The mob! He’s working for vampires. No wonder he’s been getting weird hours.”
“Then you know what you’ll tell your friend?”
“I… yeah,” I said. I fidgeted with the lid of my cup. “She came to me because I’m a cop. She doesn’t know about the vampires. Them or… or me.”
Howell scowled, thoughtfully. “Are you asking me if you should tell her?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I’ve never had to wonder about telling anyone before. Except for you, sort of, because you’d figured it out. My parents died the year before I was Turned, and they were the only family I had. By that point, I’d lost touch with most of the people I knew.”
“It’s good to have friends, Hezekia,” said Howell. “But I can’t tell you what to do- this time,” he added, when he spotted me starting to grin.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “And thanks. Do you want a ride home?”
He opened the door. “Go see your friend. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
“Good night, sir!” I called, and started the car. It was late, but I knew Theresa would want to hear from me right away.
I wouldn’t tell her exactly what her husband was doing, just that she should ask him, and suggest that he should trust her. But I also wouldn’t tell her that I was a vampire. Theresa was a good person, but she was part of my past.
Howell was right, I did need friends. And lucky for me, I had him.
THE END
Current Mood:
moody