Chapter 11 - Rendezvous
The first two hours of traffic duty went by totally uneventfully. Apparently everyone was doing their job, and I found myself sitting by the intersection watching the construction crew begin to work on the traffic lights hanging above Manson's head as she watched for the occasional car that she'd have to direct.
Lieutenant Harris would stop by my intersection occasionally. I wanted so badly to talk to him, to ask him what had happened this morning with Lassard. His strange behavior with Lassard made it obvious that something very important had happened. Finally, after he'd stopped by for the 4th time, while Manson was currently directing traffic, I just blurted it out.
"I really need to talk to you. Can we talk somewhere?"
He looked a bit taken aback by my boldness.
"Captain Callahan follows me in her rotations, and if I disappear, she'll—"
"Just a minute or two," I said. "I promise."
"What I'd like to do doesn't take only two minutes," he murmured under his breath, putting his good hand on my back and his clipboard under his sling as he escorted me away from the intersection and Manson's inquisitive ears.
"What is it?" he asked me, pulling the clipboard back out and pretending to study it.
"I was just wondering—did you actually tell Lassard about the fish? It seems like Captain Callahan knows someth—"
"Now, just wait a minute here," he interrupted loudly, suddenly looking very irritated that I had brought that subject up. His next words were murmured. "This is not the time nor place to go talkin' about any of that."
I frowned.
"Well, when am I supposed to ask you?" I countered. "I'm stuck here all week without a car, and I still can't approach you in public, unlike your just sitting down right next to me on the bus. What was that all about?"
"You tellin' me you didn't like it?" Now he looked hurt.
"Oh, I liked it alright," I replied, "but that was totally unexpected. Should I come to expect that?"
"Well, bein' that Lassard's most likely gonna stay commandant until he follows Birdie's lead to the big fishbowl in the sky, I'm gonna do what I want." He gave me a little crooked grin. "Meaning you."
Whoa. He certainly didn't beat around the bush when he spoke.
"But you could get fired!" I whispered loudly. "Why are you risking this all for me?"
"Ehh, if Lassard didn't fire me for what I done to his fish, he's not gonna fire me for screwing around with a cadet. Mark my words."
Harris sure knew how to make bold statements, but he hadn't answered my question.
"But why are you doing this?" I insisted. "Risking your job for, like you've said, a 'car-stealing punk' like me?"
"You really wanna know that right now?" he asked, squinting in disbelief at me and then searching around the area for his coworker. "I don't got time for—"
"I want to know," I replied, my eyes begging him. "Please."
He paused for several agonizing seconds, appearing to think about it.
"I dunno—you just seem to get me," he said with a shrug. "We got a lot in common. We don't let others tell us how to think, we speak our minds, and we're both equally unappreciated for that. That, and you got a nice ass." With that, he grinned. "That good enough?"
I was taken aback. I hadn't expected him to explain himself so thoroughly. It made sense now.
"Yes," I said, smiling at him. "Thank you."
"Anyway, I gotta get back. Don't want Callahan nosi—"
"What happened between you and her—"
"Nothing," he said, shrugging. "Maybe she's on the rag."
That certainly didn't clear things up. My belief that Harris told Lassard about the fish's death had made me forgive him—not only that, but sleep with him—on Saturday. I'd figured that he confessed because of a guilty conscience or maybe because I felt so strongly about it. But then, what if he'd told Lassard as a ploy to change his mind about hiring Captain Callahan? What if he hadn't told Lassard about the fish at all, but instead about Callahan's affairs with cadets? Of course, that was based on the idea that Harris knew beforehand that Callahan was supposed to get the position. Had he known?
I wanted to follow up on what had happened, but when would I get to talk to Harris in private? Maybe we could arrange a time after the academy proper was over for the day.
"I'd really like to see you tonight," I blurted. "I don't have a car, so I have to rely on you to bring us places, but—"
"I see where you're goin' with this," he said with a little grin. "How 'bout we go on a date in my Crown Vic? You know, get ready for the Corvette when it gets out of the shop."
At the agreed-upon time, I lingered in the police academy parking lot. It was dark, but thankfully there weren't any bats swarming around my head. Even so, I kept jumping at sounds I'd hear, thinking that it was someone coming.
Several shadowy figures moved across the campus as I waited. One of the figures seemed to have seen me, because it stopped and remained in position for at least ten seconds as I stared at it, totally puzzled.
"Lieutenant Harris?" I carefully asked.
"Carnegie?" the female voice replied. Shit. It was Captain Callahan. She stepped into the light and took off her sunglasses. "What are you doing out here?" she said.
"She's with me," a grumbly voice answered, and soon Harris was standing under the same light as Callahan, though wearing an unusual outfit—the blue sweatsuit of a cadet!
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Lieutenant?" Callahan snarled, both shocked and angry. "These… stunts you're pulling with this cadet are completely unacc—"
"Like you should talk," he growled, squaring off with her. "How many cadets have you screwed over the years, hmm?"
"That is not the point," she replied, apparently surprised at how he was addressing her. She looked over at me completely bewildered, and then back at him. "You are openly disobey—"
"Openly?" he said with a chuckle. "No one else is sayin' nothing. Only you, walkin' around here doin' God-knows-what out here yourself."
"You hypocrite," she hissed, her mouth twisted into a snarl. I stood there feeling out of place. Man, this was getting ugly fast.
He flinched as if bitten, looking confused at the accusation.
"That's exactly what you are," she continued, jabbing him in the chest with her finger. "I know that you're the one who sabotaged my promotion—the promotion that I earned. I never thought you could go so low."
"Hypocrite?" Harris spat, standing on his tiptoes to appear taller as he raged at her. "I've been vyin' for that position since before you ever entertained the idea of being a cop, and I've worked my ass off for it. I deserve that position. How does that make me a hypocrite?"
She rolled her eyes and looked right at me, but he wasn't picking up the bait.
"You figure it out," she replied, exasperated. She glanced over at me briefly, and began shaking her head in disappointment, making one last parting shot to Harris. "If you pull a stunt like that bus move this morning, so help me God, I will pull rank on you in front of the whole squadron. I will drag you to Lassard's office, if that's what it takes."
"If you think I'm gonna listen to one of my former cadets whose current rank is only because of her rack—captain or no captain—you got another thing coming."
Now Captain Callahan's face was red. She planted her hands on her hips and looked like she was ready to explode.
"How dare you speak to me like that!?"
"I got stuff to do," Harris muttered, stepping away from her and taking several steps towards me. "See ya later, Debbie."
Harris led me over to the car as Callahan continued to fume in the same place he'd left her.
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," I said, nervously glancing back to see Callahan's stare of death. Just like that, my evening with Harris was ruined.
"She wouldn't dare say anything," he replied. "She's not that stupid, believe me."
We got into the car, where I could finally address the strangeness of his clothes.
"Nice outfit," I murmured.
"Yeah; the car requires a lot of flexibility."
I gaped at him. I guess I hadn't picked up on that earlier.
"Are you saying you wanna—"
"Yep."
"Even after that?" I asked, looking back to see that Captain Callahan was still standing on the sidewalk with arms crossed. "I dunno; maybe we should lay low for a—"
"We will be laying low," he said with a smile. "In the Crown Vic."
His confidence was as unshaken as ever, in spite of a very tense conversation with a woman who was now finally storming away from us.
"How can you be so sure that she's not gonna send out people to track us down? She saw us get into the car—"
"Carnegie, Carnegie, Carnegie," he said, shaking his head in disbelief as a smile appeared on his lips, "as someone who's spent time in lockup, do you not recognize a little thing called blackmail when you see it?"
"Is that what that was?" I shot back. "Because I think Captain Callahan thinks you already blackmailed her."
His smile faded and he now looked confused.
"Huh?"
"She thinks you told Commandant Lassard about her affairs with—"
"That what she told you?" he immediately countered.
"She didn't tell me anything," I said. "It's just, the way she spoke to you made it seem—"
"When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me," Harris interrupted. "You ever heard that sayin' before?"
I shook my head.
"Never assume anything," he said, pointing animatedly. "If Callahan wants to know why she didn't get the position, she could always ask Lassard—sounds like she hasn't. It's not my fault she's too much of a pussy to find out."
"So why didn't she get the position?" I ventured.
"I already told you," he replied matter-of-factly. "My confession must've given Lassard a change of heart. Speaking of which, I wanna go out tonight and celebrate what was your idea about me tellin' Lassard. Best thing I ever done."
When he got into the car, Harris only drove it for about a mile or so off campus in a pitch-black parking lot somewhere in the suburbs.
"Aren't you afraid that we're gonna get caught?" I asked, my eyes darting around the area. His car was the only one in the lot and was a standard police car model, even though it was unmarked. "Captain Callahan was just yelling at you and she did see us drive off together. I really think she could blackmail you. We're not exactly hiding."
"Do I look like I care?" he shot back. "She wouldn't dare. The woman can't even talk to Lassard, one of the most harmless people on the damn planet. Even if she tried, the cops in this precinct know not to screw with me."
I was worried. It was clear that Captain Callahan was angry with him and blamed him for costing her the commandant position. And although she had been chosen over him for the position, Harris's ego was still large enough that he thought he could do anything he wanted. This would be that test, I figured. The neighborhood was rather quiet at night, and we left the front seats of the car at the same time, sliding into the backseat and very gently shutting the car doors. I couldn't even see his face inside the car because it was so dark.
"Have you ever done this before?" I asked him, my voice almost as quiet as a whisper.
"Years ago," he replied. "What about you?"
"Yeah," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. It had been in the Corsica, but he didn't need to know that. Of course, it had been out in the woods and not in the middle of a damn parking lot.
"That right?" he said, his leg brushing against mine. "How'd it go?"
"Sweaty," I admitted. "And really easy to get a cramp. Of course, it hadn't been in a parking lot…."
The fear must have registered on my face, because his expression softened and he gave me a confident yet reassuring smile.
"Trust me, Carnegie; no one's gonna bother us."
