CHAPTER 3 OLD FRIENDS

From behind the bar, Pete came over and took our orders. We both ordered a short bourbon and soda. Clinking glasses, we smiled as we sipped. New friends with a lot of shared history between them, most of it unknown. But we were ready to find out as much as we could. I continued to wonder why Ed had decided she might be the only one who could get through to me.

"To Bourbon: the official drink of Team Ironside." Eve said.

"I always thought it was "Marine Coffee", I laughed.

"Oh God," Eve made a face. "Ed never could make a decent cup, no matter how hard he tried. Compared to Mark though, it was almost drinkable."

"Ed still can't though. We went to Phil'z one time and he tried to show Phil and Jake how to make it. Phil almost threw him out and tried to ban him". I told Phil he couldn't do that, I'd write him a ticket for something if he did."

We drank some more bourbon. I could feel the fire burn down my throat. I began to relax some. "So, what do you think you can do that Ed, Mark, and the Chief can't?" I finally asked.

"Ed said you could be blunt".

I laughed. "You are so tactful. Are you certain he didn't say a pain in the?"

"It's my Nob Hill upbringing", she laughed. "I'm a lady, I wouldn't, but he might have and probably did". Eve replied smoothly. She drank a bit more of her bourbon. "For starters, you are one very angry lady. I was too, after I was hurt, but not like you are. You have a thick wall of thorns growing around you. You don't want anyone coming near you. Maybe that's due to your being more severely hurt than I was or how it happened. I'm going to hazard a guess you're not dealing with it very well at all."

I was silent. Eve continued.

"Do you just think if you act tough, try to scare or push people away, people like Mark, Ed, and the Chief, that the anger will go away by itself? It doesn't work that way; you and I both know that for a fact. These guys don't scare, or let other people push them around, no matter how hard you might try to do that."

No, I hadn't forgotten how Mark, Ed and the Chief behaved when they thought they were being shoved up against a wall or not given the answers they wanted. They came out swinging. I had decided not to let them get near me, so I couldn't see them or have to, deal with that side of them.

"Fran, they want to help you, but don't know how. You won't tell them anything. You won't talk to them, won't see them. You're keeping them in the dark. They're concerned about you. They love you."

I was quiet. Pete brought fresh drinks. We'd switched to a flight of añejoandreposado tequilas, the good stuff my uncles used to bring with them on their visits north, now becoming a feature of trendy Mexican bars like Colibri, along with a beer bucket filled with chilled long neck bottled beer. To anyone looking at us, we were two girlfriends, cutting loose after a hard day in the office. In effect, we were, though I doubted that any of the diners would willingly trade their corner office space or cubicles for our office space. I looked at my glass of pale gold Tres Agaves, trying to find some answers within it.

"I know they think I'm self- medicating. I was, but not anymore. After the rehab center, the doctors unintentionally made sure I had enough pills to make myself numb, for a long time, maybe permanently. For a time, that was all I wanted, not to feel anything. I wanted to be dead to the world. And I did a good job of it for about a month, vodka, wine, Demerol, Percocet, and codeine, that was a winning combination. One morning I woke up propped against the kitchen island in my apartment with one hell of a hangover, after a night where I had decided to end it. I didn't know where I'd been, what I'd done or who I'd been with, if anyone. I just remember arguing with someone all night. I decided I'd had enough of that. I didn't like what was happening to me. I put the pills in a container and took them over to the hospital. I was done with that. Then I kept walking to find the nearest NA or AA meeting. Instead, I passed the art store I used to go to before the assault. Something drew me in. I ended up getting some things, and instead of Alcoholics Anonymous, I found myself sketching out my pain, painting followed. It's a beginning."

"That's wonderful going back to your art."

"He won't let me go. All I can think about most days is that night. How I could have changed it. It haunts me. He haunts me." I whispered.

Eve sipped some tequila while framing her response. Finally, she spoke. "My shooter haunted me Fran. Being shot was terrible. Dependent in the hospital was horrible, but it was the days after I was released, those were the worst day and, until I got therapy, he owned me. I couldn't sleep, eat, and absolutely couldn't work. I wanted to be numb to everything too. And I did a damn good job of that, just ask my parents or Sam about that." Eve's voice was gentle. "I wouldn't have been able to testify against him in court if I didn't do something. Sam persuaded me to get counseling. He and my therapist saved my life."

"That night Ted Glenville attacked me, he'd already picked his next victim. Vivian Dorsey, an art professor he was having an affair with. It turns out, his father, the Dean, was also having an affair with her. She told Mark before she died that it was a great thrill but a challenge to keep them separate. She was hoping that Dean Glenville would divorce his wife and if he wouldn't do that, she was ready to blackmail him into making her the Chair of the Art Department."

Eve gave me a quizzical look. "A woman who knew how to get what she wanted."

"As for me, l was on campus, taking a class from Dr. Link". I gave a small ironic laugh. "It was Ed's idea I do that. He saw one of my, what I called, doodles, and suggested I might enjoy a class, so I signed up."

"Ed told me that you were also involved in a murder investigation during all this."

"About a week after classes started, a young woman, a student was murdered. It seemed to be a random act. Campus police were doing their best to solve it. But Dean Glenville began getting threatening phone calls and letters about the murder, the blackmailer hinting very strongly that he or she knew the murdered girl had had a relationship with Dean Glenville and if he didn't stop his affairs, his career would be over. Two weeks later, a second coed was murdered. She had an affair with him too. Students were spooked. They didn't know the connection. The threats to the Dean got worse. I asked the Chief if I could look into it. How could he say no? I was on campus twice a week. I just started spending more time there. He was going to start an investigation even if I hadn't asked him.

Eve nodded. She knew all too well, rarely did the Chief refuse us when we saw a case needing to be investigated. "What happened that night?" she asked.

"I went back to the studio after class. I hadn't talked to my service. I was going out with some of the class."

Eve nodded reassuringly. I plunged on. It was time.

"After I called, I heard a noise in the sculpture room. Someone was moving around. I went in and saw that one of the sculptures had been destroyed."

"Did you see who did it?"

"No, but I saw the destruction and remembered wanting to ask Dr. Link about it. Ted was hiding in the studio when I came in. I didn't know that then. He followed me out to my car.

"He put two and two together and got nine."

I nodded and poured a couple of inches of Dos Equisinto my glass. "He thought I'd seen him do it. He knew I was a cop. Ed and I had been to his house. We'd interviewed him, his mother, and his father about the murders on campus and death threats Dean Glenville had received. Ted thought I had figured out things, about the affair with Vivian Dorsey and the change in his sculpture. He said it was going to be his mother, but it was Vivian Dorsey. Ted told Ed that he had to save his mother's dignity and her marriage. He thought his father was going to divorce and leave her, and him, with nothing. The kid adored his mother to the point of being willing to kill anyone who he felt was a threat to her. Sad thing is she encouraged him". I drank a quarter inch or so of beer.

"Ed said it was pretty touch and go for you for the first few days."

"It was. He tried to smother me in the hospital. Fortunately, a floor nurse just happened to come in at the right time. She saved me. The Chief still feels responsible for my aneurysm bursting because he pushed me too hard to remember things from my first regaining consciousness. I don't blame him at all. Ed and Mark wouldn't have had much to work on if I hadn't been able to remember details. Ted Glenville would have gotten away. Two sets of parents would still be wondering who killed their children or why. Maybe I should pack it in. I'm no good to anyone right now. I don't know if I'll ever be."

"What would you do?"

"I don't know. I've got some money from my parents; there'd be disability, some pension. I could travel, maybe paint, I'm not sure." I took another longer sip of beer.

"Sounds like you're thinking through this, but you'd still be looking over your shoulder everywhere. He's going to get out of the hospital someday. You're going to get that "courtesy" call from Victim's Advocacy telling you he's "sane" and can't be held at Napa anymore. You have to take away his power now. If you don't, you've allowed him to destroy you just as if he'd been able to take your life that night in the parking lot."

"I saw the department counselor right after I got out of rehab. You know what he told me?"

"Let me guess…He said these supportive things to you." Count your lucky stars you're alive. Be thankful for that and life will be better once you get back in the saddle and get back to work."

I sat stunned, "you too?"

"Yeah, BooSoo" Eve said, referring to BSU, the department behavioral studies unit "can be a joke. I think therapy is helpful, if done well. It certainly was for me. Fortunately, the department will show you a list of available therapists. They won't tell you who's good. A friend recommended the one I saw."

There was a long pause as I contemplated what she was offering me. "Share the name with a sister blue?" I finally asked.

"I was hoping you'd ask". She slid a business card across the table to me.

I picked it up. "Janet Parkman. What does she know about?"

"She was a beat cop, worked fifteen years out of Taraval Station, Ingleside Terrace mostly, while she was getting her degrees, then worked Departmental Counseling, realized she wanted to work with cops, especially female cops, but on her terms. She's worked with victims of torture, substance abuse, domestic violence, things of that nature. She'll make you work, but she's good."

I swallowed hard. "I…. I don't go out at night anymore alone. I hate the dark… I need to be in the open all the time. I'm ready to walk away from a job I love, from Mark and Ed, the Chief, who've become my family, my friends; Right now, you seem to be the only one who understands me just a little bit and I barely know you."

"Just think of me as the older sister you secretly always wanted." We both laughed at that.

"Ed and Mark understand what you're going through a lot better than you think. Ed had doubts about continuing after he was shot in L.A., you knew that too. He says you were there for him the entire time he was in rehab. You came down almost every weekend and visited. You smuggled him out of the hospital and took him to baseball games. You brought his favorite deli sandwiches down to him, including the Chief's chili, with beer. Mark wouldn't have gotten through the last two years of law school if you hadn't been there for him. You covered shifts, commented on papers for him, typed them when he needed help, stayed with the Chief when he had to study or work late. You didn't have to do that for him, but you did."

"We're partners, that's what partners do for each other", I mumbled, suddenly understanding what she was getting at, and feeling incredibly stupid at the realization.

Eve saluted me with her shot glass then threw back a shot of Hornitos, her eyes widening slightly as the alcohol hit. She closed them, savoring the reposado. "God, that's good."

I drank some more beer.

"For some reason Fran, you felt you had to measure up to me. That's a burden for anyone and I'm sorry about that. I would have been proud to have partnered with you. It will be a real loss if you leave. If you're going to walk away from all that, you better know exactly why you're doing it." Eve sipped some beer. "I'm planning on staying here with Mom and Dad for a couple of weeks, mainly so they can spoil their little princess. I intend to get some massages, go to dance class, see the bay, take in some culture, and engage a lot of eating and retail therapy. Interested?"

I nodded.

"That's a start. You call Dr. Parkman. I'll even take you to the first appointment. My friends here think it'squaint." She punctuated the word with her fingers, " that I had a real job and now, having married a cop, and having a child, raising her without a nanny like they all do and that I do things like clean my own house. I'm even quainter. I can take them only in small doses now. They didn't understand me when I became a cop and they sure don't understand me anymore and I don't care if they ever do. Being with you will be good for me as well."

A new order of tequila along with a fresh bucket of beer was placed on the table. I looked at it suspiciously. "If I were a detective, I'd swear you were trying to get me drunk." I laughed.

Eve grinned wickedly. "Nope, I'm just trying to show a sister who could use one, a good time. You are not obligated to drink all of it."

The hostess moved towards us. "Eve, your guests are here. Shall I seat them?"

"Oh, please do Rose; I didn't realize that it was that time already". She signaled to Pete "Bring us one more of these and keep them coming." She said, pointing at the drinks.

I felt panicky and rose from the table. I didn't care to be on display to her friends. 'See my latest social work project. I'm going to make her all better'. I fumbled for some money. "I'll leave now. Thank you for today." I handed her a card. "Here's my phone number. Call me if you would like to get together. Enjoy your dinner with your friends."

"One thing you can do starting now, is, as you said, stop pushing the people who care about you as far away from you as possible." She smiled. "Besides, you're one of my dinner guests".

"Hey, two of my favorite ladies in the same room." A familiar baritone voice floated behind me.

I turned to see Mark Sanger behind me, arms extended for a hug. Behind him, grinning broadly was Ed Brown.

"Are we in time for the intervention?" Ed asked.