185
Aligned Design
Ch 34
Edward sat at his place, reading the paper. He'd written the bills, gotten his shirts ready for the laundry, and called his ex-wife. Linda had left him a message about an investment her accountant had suggested she move. She always called Edward to see what he thought concerning money things. They had a good relationship, always had.
He had met Linda in college, right before he entered the academy. They'd had a class together. She was tiny, trim and cute as a button – Eames with dark hair. After graduation, Linda, now an architect had a two-year apprenticeship with Dillon-Rowe, a renowned architectural firm in St. Louis. The long distance relationship nearly ended it for them.
Three-quarters through her apprenticeship, she had been offered a position with Warwick Associates, the premier architectural firm, with offices in New York, Toronto, London, Berlin and Tokyo. She accepted and moved back to New York. They were married that summer.
Edward had never felt comfortable around her family. He felt they looked down on him; he was just a cop, after all. As Linda's career escalated, his remained flat. He was just a cop. Linda didn't care what he did, she loved him. And he loved her. Nothing was ever said about children. It had never come up. It had never happened.
Then, Edward made detective. He was gone all the time, working late, traveling a little. Linda became a partner in the firm. She was jetting all over, being the important, young, creative architect. They grew apart. As simple as that. They just weren't together anymore.
One night at dinner – he had flown to Toronto to spend the weekend with her – they decided not to be married anymore. He had pointed out to her, and she had understood that as the primary wage earner, she would have to pay him alimony; he would get half of everything. She was fine with this. Edward would be a wealthy man.
After dinner, they had gone back to the hotel and made love. Neither had remarried. Occasionally, over the years, they would meet in Toronto, at the same hotel and spend the weekend. Linda still loved him and he still loved her. They just weren't married anymore.
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Eames slept as soundly as she ever had. She was a deep sleeper. Everyone knew to call several times in the night, as she didn't wake easily to the phone ringing. Her alarm clock was one designed for people just like her – loud, obnoxious, and kept going until she shut it off; kind of like Edward two months ago.
Eames had always slept well. As a child, she never fought going to bed. She saw sleep as a refuge and she rarely dreamt. If she did, she did not remember it. This night, she slept as though a nagging thought had been resolved. She slept cleanly, as her grandmother used to say.
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Bobby and Gleason lay together in their bed, holding each other. She was on her right side, left arm resting on his chest, fingers running over the top of the curly hairs that sprinkled his chest. Her left leg rested over his left leg. He stroked her arm. They didn't talk, didn't make love. They just held each other.
Bobby's heart raced with his love for her. He said a silent prayer, thanking God for bringing her back to him. He knew everything would be all right now. He knew it. "I love you," he whispered into her hair.
"I love you, too," she answered, "forever." She sighed contentedly and turned over, snuggling against him as she always had. He turned as well, and curled around her, holding her. Keeping her.
Bobby's eyes filled. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. He had finally found what he'd always wanted, had nearly lost her – twice, and now she was here again. I want this to last forever, he thought.
Bobby's right hand went to her belly and he rubbed lightly. Soft, flat, he thought, but what's inside? Jesus. We've never used a condom. Why? I've always, every time, not once without, used a condom. Except with her. Jesus. She could be – he couldn't even think it.
Would that be so bad? A baby? We'd get married. She's moving to Chicago! His mind whirled. Wait, wait, wait, he screamed at himself, you're making yourself nuts. Wait and see what's up. It's probably nothing. Yeah, probably nothing. Let it be nothing.
Bobby and Gleason slept.
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"Night Jimmy, night Angie. Drive carefully now," Mark Sutton said at the door, watching the couple walk to their cars. Jimmy Deakins had shown up late, hours after his wife had arrived at Mark and Jean Sutton's place. He has a tough job, Mark thought; he's never off the clock.
"I'll be right behind you, ok?" Deakins said to his wife at her car door.
"Ok, I'll go slow so you don't lose me," she answered with a smile. It was an old joke between them.
Deakins kissed his wife on the cheek and headed for his car parked at the curb. It was much later than either of them had been out in years. It would be good to get home. Julie had better be in bed. Their youngest had proven to be a handful.
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Alphonse turned out to be an interesting, experienced lover. He knew the game with the hose. Tillman had brought it up.
"I do know that wonderful game. You don't have any with you, do you? We could play. I get to go first. Do you have any hose?" he had asked. Alphonse reminded Jenese of Canvettelli. Only Alphonse was calmer. Classier. Longer. Thicker.
Tilley looked at Jenny. "Want to?" he asked, hopefully.
Jenese hadn't been hosed off since he had off-ed the artist. Now that boy knew how to play! Jenese regretted having to kill Peignoir; he wasa nice guy. But, business is business, he thought.
"Yeah, I'll play. I've got a piece in the car. I'll be right back." With that, Jenese had gone to the car and dug around for the section that he had used with the painter. The lot was dark, the car was still loaded with the canvases, and he couldn't find the piece of hose. Damn. He didn't have anything to cut a new piece with and he certainly didn't want to take the whole roll upstairs. Jeeze, walking through the lobby with a whole roll of it? I don't think so. However, he thought, I should really cut a new piece, shouldn't reuse the same one – germs, you know. He laughed at that. Where the hell is it?
Then he remembered. Oh, shit. At the storage place, he'd had to move the roll to make room for the paintings. Yeah, he'd taken it out of the boot and moved it to the floor behind the passenger seat. He went to the side of the car and searched around on the floor in the back. The roll was there, but not the used piece. Slowly panic rose. Do not tell me that that piece fell out, he said to himself. It is not back in New York, pointing at those two bodies, my DNA and prints all over it. Peignoir's DNA! He stood up, went back to the boot and slammed the lid. He slammed the car door and headed back into the hotel.
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Edward fell asleep with the paper fallen on his lap. He snored softly and dreamt of Linda. She was building with bricks and mortar in what must be their back yard. He went to help her, and they ended up building a wall.
The wall became a box, with a brick lid. Linda told him to get inside the box, the brick box. He loved her, so he did. He sat inside the brick box and watched her add brick after brick. She smiled at him as she set the last brick. It was dark inside. And quiet.
Edward startled awake with a gasp. He couldn't breathe there for a moment. Jeeze! He looked at the clock, twelve forty-eight. You gotta get to bed, he told himself. He hauled himself out of his chair, dropped the newspaper on it and headed to bed.
Twenty minutes later, Edward was sound asleep.
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"Let's not bother hosing off," Jenese said, looking at the other two men, now naked on the bed. Tillman noticed the change in his lover's demeanor. Something is wrong, he thought. He decided not to pursue it, too much fun was at hand, and mouth, and bum.
"What, no hose? I am so disappointed!" Alphonse pouted.
Jenese undressed and moved onto the huge bed. "I bet we can find other things to do. Just as fun things. Tastier things, tighter things," he said, reaching for the new man's goods. The men merged and became one, several times; sometimes together, sometimes one watched the other two until they were each sticky, sweaty, drained and exhausted.
Finally, the three men lay tangled among the sheets in the king sized bed, sleeping soundly.
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Deakins peeked in on Julie. She looks so innocent, he thought, seeing his youngest daughter sleeping. Why can't she be so innocent when she's awake? He pulled shut his daughter's door.
Angie had changed into her nightgown. She was removing the shams from the head of the bed. "Is she in asleep?" she asked.
"Yes, thank God." He shut their door and undressed. Angie got into bed and watched him. They had been together for so long. She smiled, watching the only man she'd ever been with. She chronicled the changes in his body, his face, his hair. I'm sure he's watched me change as well, she thought.
"Come to bed," she said holding open the covers. Deakins got in, shut off the light and kissed his wife. Deeply. It was after one and he was exhausted, but he loved this woman. Angie returned the kiss, just as deeply.
Forty minutes later, they slept, naked.
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Officer Stan Paganowiecz and his partner, Officer Tasheeka Bale, turned right off Flushing and drove slowly along Clinton Avenue.
"Yeah, but that one didn't count."
"Why the hell not? Damn, Tash, it does too count. Why wouldn't it count?"
"Because you cheated. Cheating doesn't count."
Stan had nothing to say in response. Shit, she caught me, he thought. He slowed the vehicle and Tash turned on the right mounted search light and swung it toward the storage facility. The powerful light illuminated the space between the fence and the first building, nothing. Between the second and third buildings, nothing. Between the third and fourth buildings, "What's that?" Tasheeka said, "Back up. Let's check this out."
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Forty minutes later, a member of CSU removed the wallet from one of the vics and said to a uniformed standing beside him, "Joseph Navicky."
"Navicky, Navicky . . . why's that name familiar?" He though a minute then hollered to his partner, "Hey, Jack, c'mere." Jack stopped talking with another CSU member and walked over. "Who is Joseph Navicky?"
"Navicky? This is Navicky? He's the guy Major Case is looking for. I'll make the call."