Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue or any of the characters….
I know it's a few days late, but Happy New Year to everyone.
Thanks as always for the reviews, favs and follows and of course reading. It is so great to get your comments and does inspire me to keep writing. Debby and Curious33, I'm glad you liked the scene at the range – the not being in contact for two years was always something I wanted to tackle.
Hope you enjoy this chapter. We're back with a body, of sorts, and a crime that feels a bit like it is of Gail's own making. Apologies for any mistakes – spellcheck can only do so much!
…
Six severed heads, can you believe that Frankie,' Gail said, 'six severed heads. Why can't anything like that happen around here.'
'Really, you'd want that kind of trouble here,' Frankie raised an eyebrow, 'do you need a break from your girlfriend?'
'No,' Gail screwed up her face in irritation, 'what are you talking about Anderson?'
'Six severed heads equals serious overtime for Holly. Not to mention the detectives working the case.'
'Oh,' Gail scowled. She hadn't thought about that. Although she bet Holly had never autopsied a severed head. Holly would have told her for sure, knowing all too well Gail's penchant for the macabre.
'What case,' Chloe asked as she came into the detective's pen. She had bounced in, no strike that Gail thought, bounded in like a puppy, all over eager and peppy. Which was kind of obscene considering it was 26th of December and they were back at work.
Not that anything was happening. Gail was up to date with her paperwork and had filed every thing that needed filing. If Frankie knew she had nothing to do, the senior detective would probably make her rake over some obscure cold case. Now much as Gail was dedicated to her job and would love to crack a cold case, it was the day after Christmas and she had to work, so she was checking her newsfeed instead.
It was the 26th of December and she was at work because, like all the officers without kids, she usually put her hand up in the holiday season. In the past it was to avoid the Peck festivities, now she actually cared that others got to be with their families. Not that she was telling anyone that.
'Six decapitated heads were found in Jiquilpan in Mexico on Christmas Day, 'Gail explained to Chloe, holding up her iPad to show her the story.
'So gang warfare?' Chloe asked.
'That's the speculation.'
'It's a warning to a rival gang. Somehow it's much more gruesome to find six severed heads than six bodies,' Chloe said.
'Man, Toronto's kind of tame compared to Mexico.' Gail said.
'Yeah?' Frankie raised a skeptical eyebrow, 'careful what you wish for Peck.'
...
'Well, there are a number of theories about that,' Holly said. Gail had brought her lunch and the story of the six heads, and asked if you'd remain conscious if you were decapitated.
'Of course there are theories,' Gail said, settling herself back on the couch in Holly's office in anticipation of finding out just what those theories were.
'Decapitation is a common way of euthanizing rats.'
'Eww,' Gail interrupted, 'exactly how is that done?' She briefly had an image of a lab tech in a white coat brandishing a samurai sword.
'Well, scientists aren't known for their swordsmanship,' Holly said, making Gail wonder if somehow Holly knew what she'd been thinking. Surely mind reading wasn't a nerd skill. 'They use special rodent guillotines.'
'Eww,' Gail said again, 'seriously. Like specially made?'
' Yep,' Holly nodded, 'actually some Dutch researchers decided to test if guillotining rodents was humane. So they connected an EEG machine to the brains of rats and then decapitated them. According to the EEG reading, the rat brains continued to generate electrical activity between the 13 to 100-Hertz frequency ban for about four seconds after decapitation. That frequency is associated with consciousness and cognition, in other words mental processes that include thinking.'
'So for four seconds the rats would have realized they were headless, or actually bodiless?'
'Well, that I can't say but the researchers concluded the brain can continue to produce thoughts and experience sensations for several seconds following decapitation. Hasn't stopped scientists using this method to dispose of lab rats though.'
'Ugh,' Gail shuddered, 'that's.'
'Fascinating,' Holly suggested, 'gross.'
'Disturbing.'
Holly laughed. 'There's no proof the same thing would happen to humans and it's highly unlikely we'll ever know. I don't think anyone's going to approve a research grant to observe the effects of human decapitation.'
Gail considered that for a moment.
'I remember reading somewhere that people guillotined during the French Revolution grimaced after being beheaded.'
'Could be involuntary muscle spasms, but both King Charles I and Queen Anne Boleyn are said to have tried to speak after they were beheaded - they were executed by sword rather than guillotined. At any rate, the brain needs oxygen to function. Decapitation immediately cuts the blood and therefore the oxygen supply to the brain, so it stops working fairly quickly.'
'Hmm,' Gail said.
'Hmm?' Holly quirked an eyebrow, 'that all you're going to say?'
'I'm processing, Holly.'
'Slow day at the office, honey,' Holly smirked.
'Yeah,' Gail admitted.
'Well, my week in San Francisco has left me very behind so.'
'Alright, alright. I'm going.' Gail stood with such alacrity it was as if she were suddenly uncertain Holly wanted her here. Like she'd overstayed her welcome and hadn't read the signs. Holly hated that Gail still had these moments of self-doubt. She tugged on Gail's jeans, just below her knee.
'Hey,' Holly said with that lopsided smile, 'thanks for the sandwich.'
'Anytime nerd,' Gail smiled and leant down to kiss Holly, just a quick kiss but Holly took hold of Gail's upper arms and kept her there, continuing the kiss. Eventually though they broke apart.
'I thought you had work,' Gail said.
'I do but I'd much rather be doing this,' Holly grinned, 'but go before I'm tempted to break my no sex in the office rule.'
...
Gail thought it was a set-up. Like the time she and Dov pretended to be dead when Frank proposed to Noelle.
'Some kids playing found it,' Frankie said, gesturing to the box, 'think this tops the body in the suitcase?'
Gail peered into the wooden crate. A head. It looked impossibly real. Strands of black hair were plastered across the scalp and a wispy moustache adorned the upper lip. Clearly male, white, probably mid twenties, Gail thought, instinctively going into investigative mode, and then she kicked herself. This was a set-up.
She went to reach into the box, to pull out the head by the hair so she could tell Frankie to stop messing with her. If it hadn't been such a slow day, Gail would have harassed her for misusing police resources. Before she could touch the head, Frankie grabbed her hand.
'Geez Peck, has that girlfriend of yours taught you nothing,' Frankie said, 'no touching before forensics get here. You're not even wearing gloves.'
'Wait, this is real,' Gail asked, searching first Frankie's and then Chloe's face for a sign it was a practical joke, half expecting them to double over with laughter any minute and for Dov to appear from somewhere recording it all on his phone. But Chloe wasn't a practical joker and both she and Frankie looked deadly serious.
'Seems like wishes do come true, Peck,' Frankie said tartly.
...
Holly made her way steadily across the vacant lot. She had her red forensic kit in one hand and Natasha and Wilson in tow. Officer Robinson was by the crime scene tape and Gail noticed she and Natasha exchange a furtive smile as Robinson held up the tape for the trio to duck under. Who'd have thought that relationship would last, Gail mused, feeling somewhat chuffed it was she who had introduced the two.
She watched as Holly and the interns picked a path through the trash, clumps of weeds, disused tires and piles of rubble littering the lot. There was even an old computer left incongruously perched atop a petrol drum. The detritus of a city. When they reached the detectives, Gail looked across at Holly sheepishly.
'This is not helping me catch up on my paperwork, Detective Peck,' Holly said drily.
'It's not like I conjured it,' Gail said.
'I dunno. All that talk of severed heads,' Frankie made a face. Holly smiled at that, which made Gail sigh elaborately.
'So I'm guessing no sign of the rest of the body?' Holly asked.
Frankie shook her head. 'Not here, at least.' She gestured to the lot, which was sandwiched between two office blocks. Across the street were a few non-descript shops. A tailors and a costume hire place and another shop selling spare auto parts. Not a flash part of town, although it was slowly undergoing the process of gentrification.
'Let's hope we find the rest of the body intact and we're not dealing with a killer who's leaving body parts in random places all over Toronto,' Holly said.
'I guess that's possible, isn't it?' Gail winced. She was beginning to wish she'd never read that articles about the six heads in Mexico. The reality of a severed head was not nearly as exciting as she had imagined.
...
'He was decapitated post-mortem,' Holly said, 'you can tell because there are no signs of bleeding. The cut is clean too. It looks like a sharp blade and considerable force was used to decapitate him.'
'So any chance you can tell how he died?' Frankie asked.
'Possibly, but it would be much easier if you could get me a body. But there is enough here – brain tissue, hair, vitreous humor - to test for toxins. It's possible he was drugged or poisoned and then beheaded.'
Frankie and Holly were back at the morgue. The head looked weird sitting there on the stainless steel slab, designed, as it was, to accommodate an entire corpse.
'Hopefully we can get an ID using dental records,' Holly said.
'Yeah, that would be a start,' Frankie sighed, 'I have a feeling this is going to be one of those dead end cases. And I blame Gail. It's like all that talk of severed heads made this happen.'
'Oh, I think our friend here was detached from his body long before Gail brought up decapitation. I'd say he's been dead three days.'
'Okay. Well, I'd better get back and see how Gail and Chloe's canvas of the neighborhood is progressing. Let me know if anything interesting turns up.'
'Of course,' Holly smiled.
...
Was this Frankie's punishment for bringing up severed heads, Gail wondered as she and Chloe trudged into the third shop? They'd already spoken to the building managers from the offices on either side of the vacant lot. Neither had noticed anything unusual on the lot. In fact neither seemed to pay the lot much attention at all.
'It's owned by a developer,' one of them said, 'he knocked down the original building about six years ago. It was only a couple of stories high. He had plans to replace it with a multi-story office block but apparently went bankrupt. At least that's what I heard.'
'Got a name?' Gail asked.
The manager shook his head. It didn't matter anyhow. Dov was back at the station looking up title deeds.
'Kids sometimes go in there. Ride their bikes. You know those BMX ones,' the tailor said, 'I don't recall seeing anyone else. Occasionally junkies but they're mostly there at night.'
The guy behind the counter in the auto parts shop was even less helpful, although excited to be almost connected to a crime or at least in close proximity to one.
'Man, do you think the TV stations will want my story?' He asked.
Gail resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Given his story consisted of she and Chloe asking questions to which he mainly shrugged a 'dunno know', she doubted the TV news would be interested. Then again the media's capacity, in the absence of concrete information, to beat up a story, to amplify a very small something they'd made out of nothing was astonishing.
The costume shop was run by two elderly women called Elspeth and Mimi. The shop itself was tiny, but it was stuffed full of rack after rack of costumes for sale or hire. Vampire, wizard, fairy, sheriff, superhero costumes and outfits of characters from recent films including, of course, a range of Star Wars costumes. Then there were shelves of wigs and false moustaches, fairy wands, sheriff badges and fake pistols in holsters, masks, tiaras and glitter and face paint. The shop was so crowded with merchandise it was hard to find a place to stand.
Elspeth, the older and shorter of the two, was perched on a stool behind the counter, glasses half way down her nose, peering intently at something she was sewing. A Princess Leia costume, Gail realized. Mimi, who was taller and rounder than Elspeth, appeared from the labyrinth of costume racks. The two women were, in equal measure, concerned and alarmed about the discovery on the lot. Not that Gail and Chloe had said it was a severed head. Instead they'd made vague mention of a body.
'The neighborhood is a little rundown,' Elspeth said, 'but it's always felt safe. We've been here for thirty years.'
'The tailor said junkies sometimes hang round the vacant lot,' Chloe said.
'Oh, he's always prone to exaggeration,' Mimi said.
'So you haven't noticed any unusual activity over at the lot?' Gail asked.
'No. Never seen a junkie once. But we are busy in the shop. Elspeth and I make most of the costumes by hand. So once we're here, it's just heads down and sew, sew, sew.'
'Okay, here's my card. In case you think of anything else that could help,' Gail said.
Elspeth took the card and studied it for a moment. The skin on her hands was crepey and she had slightest of tremors. Gail wondered how she could even thread a needle.
'And here,' Mimi said, handing Gail a card colored a bright purple with flowery gold writing, 'is our card. If ever you should need a custom-made costume.'
'Well that was a bust,' Gail said once she and Chloe were out on the street, 'shouldn't Mimi and Elspeth be in, I dunno, a retirement home.'
'You know Gail you're going to get old one day,' Chloe said, looking faintly amused.
'Yeah, of course,' Gail said, managing to sound scornful at Chloe's statement of the obvious and yet doubtful. She wondered where Chloe was going with this.
'Well, do you want to be shoved into some old people's home?'
Gail was saved from answering by the arrival of Frankie, who decided they needed to re-interview the two boys who had found the head.
'Holly says the victim had probably been dead three days. I want to see if the boys noticed the crate earlier,' she said.
The two boys, Jed and Mike, confirmed they had been at the lot on Christmas Eve, but were adamant the crate wasn't there.
'It was right next to one our jumps,' Jed said, referring to a mound of earth he and Mike used for dirt jumping, 'I mean we noticed it straight away today.'
Dov had better news when they returned to the station.
'The lot belongs to a small pharmaceutical research company called EquanimityPlus. They specialize in testing SSRIs.'
'SSRIs?' Chloe asked.
'Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors,' Dov supplied. Chloe looked none the wiser.
'Anti-depressants,' Gail said, pleased by Dov's look of surprise and grateful for her prodigious memory. Holly had a case where a woman, who'd been dismissed from a job she'd held for most of her working life, overdosed on anti-depressants. The autopsy revealed Prozac, an SSRI, and Nortriptyline, a Tricyclic antidepressant or TCA, in the woman's system. It was the Nortriptyline, a drug with strong sedative effects, which killed her. Holly had found lethal levels in the woman's liver. As she told Gail, SSRIs were generally harder to overdose on.
'So why does EquanimityPlus own a vacant lot?' Frankie asked.
'I spoke to their CEO, a Frank Gimlet, and he said they had planned to build new headquarters there but held off because of a downturn in the market.'
'I thought people were getting crazier not less,' Gail said.
Dov looked at her uncomprehendingly.
'Dov, you are aware the world is becoming more insane by the minute?' When Dov finally nodded, Gail continued. 'So it stands to reason there would a rise in the demands for anti-depressants.'
'I guess,' Dov said, sounding not entirely convinced, 'anyway the other news is we've got an ID for our headless guy. John Brierly aged 25. Reported missing by his employer a week ago.'
'Geez Dov,' Frankie complained, 'why save the best until last.'
'Because it's not the best,' Dov said smugly, pausing deliberately for dramatic effect, or so it seemed to Gail. She got the impression he liked dangling this bit of information before them.
'So,' Frankie demanded, staring at Dov with such a disgruntled expression he immediately caved.
'Brierly worked as a lab technician at EquanimityPlus. They're the ones who reported him missing.'
'I don't know how you put up with him,' Gail said to Chloe, her voice sweetly sympathetic, and with an exaggerated smile that bordered on a grimace, the whole effect so insolent and so transparently insincere Frankie had to stifle a laugh.
...…...
Holly had stepped out of the morgue to get a fruit smoothie from the cafe a few blocks down the street. It was too late in the day for coffee, but she needed an excuse for some fresh air and to stretch her legs. Several hours spent doing the autopsy and several more at her desk had left Holly feeling stiff and a little irritable. She was already way behind before the severed head showed up.
About half way back to the morgue, Holly heard her name being called and turned to see Lisa striding towards her and looking, well, content, even happy, Holly noted with surprise. Why was Lisa in this part of town? The hospital was ten blocks across and any way she had today off. Unless there was an emergency with a patient.
'What are you doing here?' Holly asked, 'don't plastic surgeons have Boxing Day off?'
'I had a late lunch with Fiona. She had to work,' Lisa made a doleful face.
'Oh, the pitfalls of dating a public servant,' Holly teased.
'I think I'm in love,' Lisa said suddenly, 'is it too soon to say that? When did you know with Gail? It must have been early, otherwise you wouldn't have been so cut up.'
Cut up? It was such a manifestly inadequate way to describe her feelings when she and Gail split; that first time when Gail refused to take her calls or answer her texts and that second time when Holly went to San Francisco and they actually talked about it like grown-ups. Deciding to ignore Lisa's choice of words, Holly said instead, 'in love. That's got to be a first for you Lis.'
'I know right. But I can't stop thinking about Fiona. I've never actually wanted to spend this much time with anyone and oh god the sex.'
'Yeah,' Holly said, thinking she definitely did not want to yet again be regaled with tales of Lisa's sex life. Especially out here on the street. Nor, in fact, did she have the time. 'Look Lisa, I better go. I have a pile of work so.'
'Oh sure, sure. You know what. We should do dinner. You, me, Fiona and Gail. I'll check Fiona's schedule. Let you know.'
Holly smiled weakly. Oh god, there was no way Gail would agree to that. Lisa may as well invite Elaine just to cap it off. Still, something mischievous in Holly was entertained by the thought of Gail's reaction when she relayed the invitation.
'Oh, our women in blue,' Lisa said happily, seemingly unaware Holly's eyebrows had shot up in amazement.
...
Frank Gimlet's office was opulently furnished with a sizeable desk, plush chairs and a large couch. The prints on the wall were edgy, funky. Gail had the distinct impression a design consultant had made over the office, especially as it was at odds with the rest of the rather dowdy brick building that housed EquanimityPlus. The CEO must have noticed Gail's scrutiny because he gestured to the room and said 'my wife's an interior decorator.'
Gail nodded and turned to look at Frank Gimlet, taking him in properly for the first time. His surname was fitting, given his piercing gaze, which looked like it would miss nothing. He was a big man. Over six foot, with the look of someone who had lost a lot of weight too quickly, so his flesh hung about his frame as if it were too big for it. He indicated Frankie and Gail take a seat.
'When I spoke to Detective Epstein earlier, he said nothing about one of our employees being involved,' Gimlet said as he sat down behind the desk.
'We've just had it confirmed,' Frankie explained, 'did you know John Brierly well?'
'Not at all,' Gimlet said, 'I have very little to do with the lab technicians. I knew him by sight only. His supervisor, Helen Marino could tell you more.'
'And we will talk to her,' Frankie said, 'so any reason someone from your company would be targeted like this?'
'None whatsoever,' Gimlet held out his hands to indicate his puzzlement. Something about the gesture seemed forced to Gail, and she immediately wondered if he was telling the truth.
'It is a remarkable coincidence, don't you think, that the severed head of one of your employees was found on land you own,' she said.
The CEO turned to her with an irritated stare and said nothing for a moment. Gail didn't flinch. After all she'd grown up with Elaine Peck. It took more than a gimlet eye to spook her. 'As far as I know that's what it is. A coincidence. A chance happening,' Gimlet finally said.
'So nobody's made any threats against the company. No disgruntled employee you may have sacked for example?' Gail pressed.
Gimlet sighed. 'No. We have a very stable workforce. You can check with our HR department if you want.'
'What about the work Brierly was doing. Anything unusual about it?'
'No,' Gimlet said, doing little to disguise his annoyance, 'we're a small family company. We're contracted by larger pharmaceuticals to carry out research on their behalf. I assure you there is nothing controversial about the work we do. In fact, last year we received an Ontario Small Business Award as a result of growing the company.'
'And yet it didn't grow enough for you to build new headquarters,' Gail said.
'It's still on the cards. After the downturn, I wanted to consolidate the business first,' Gimlet said tersely.
After that Frankie and Gail asked a few more questions but soon realized Gimlet was unable or unwilling to furnish them with any other information. Gail couldn't quite shake the feeling he had something to hide.
Helen Marino wasn't much help either. Brierly was hard working, always on time, pleasant although he kept to himself and tended not to socialize with any of the other employees. It was Marino who had reported Brierly missing. He hadn't shown up for work for three days straight and wasn't answering his phone. Gail and Frankie were aware two uniforms had taken a look around Brierly's apartment after the building super gave them access and found nothing suspicious.
'So no family?' Frankie asked.
Helen Marino shook her head. 'He was single. No siblings or children of his own. Neither of his parents are alive, which I guess is a blessing under the circumstances. John was originally from the US but he told me his second cousin had moved here recently from the States. A doctor. I don't recall him mentioning her name. That probably doesn't help much.'
Being a public holiday Brierly's other colleagues weren't in at work, and Frankie decided to wait until the following day to interview them. 'We'll be back tomorrow,' she told Marino, 'so if you think of anything in the meantime.' The woman nodded. Gail had the distinct impression that unlike Gimlet, Brierly's supervisor did care about what had happened to him.
'You certainly got up Gimlet's goat,' Frankie said to Gail once they were back in the car. The role of bad cop had seemed to fall naturally to Gail today. When she Frankie needed to do the good cop bad cop routine, they often disagreed about who got to play good cop, both tending to be the bad one.
'Gimlet's goat. That kinda of rhymes.'
'Yeah, I'm a poet,' Frankie said sardonically.
'He's hiding something.'
'Yeah?' Frankie quirked an eyebrow, 'it looked like a straightforward setup to me. I don't like coincidences though. Not one bit.'
….
Frankie and Gail had left Dov and Chloe back at the station combing through databases to see if they could locate someone related to John Brierly. As they walked back into the detective pen, Chloe was practically spinning on her seat.
'What is it muppet?' Frankie asked.
'Brierly has a second cousin,' Chloe sad excitedly, 'a doctor who works at Toronto General.'
'Yep, we heard as much. Did you get a name?'
'Dr Francine Hart,' Dov said, looking up from the computer.
'Fuck, you've got to be kidding me,' Gail said. She wasn't egotistical enough to think the world revolved around her, but right now the universe did seem to be conspiring against her. What had Gimlet said about coincidences? A chance happening. This was certainly one she could do without.
'You know her?' Dov asked.
'Kinda.'
'Is she an ex or one night stand or something,' Chloe asked.
'Chloe,' Dov warned, surprised by Chloe's bluntness, especially as it was directed at Gail, but Chloe just made a face at him.
'More like one of Holly's one night stands,' Frankie chimed in.
'Thanks Frankie,' Gail said sarcastically.
'Well, someone had to say it. I think Chloe and I should go talk to the doctor. Having had the dubious pleasure of meeting her, I reckon she'd probably take the news better from us than Gail. So Dov and Gail you can call it a night.'
….
Coming out of the locker room on her way home, Gail literally ran into Celery and Oliver. It appeared Celery had made dinner for Oliver, who was on a late shift, and delivered it to the station in person. At the mention of the dinner, Oliver's eyes widened just a fraction and his smile became fixed. Gail was about to ask if it had consisted of anything besides kale when Celery spoke up instead. Gail made a mental note to bring in some donuts for Oliver tomorrow.
'Oh, Gail how did the dinner go?' the witch asked, looking intently at her.
'Great, great,' Gail said, 'I think, well I think Holly's parents actually liked me.' God, she thought, why was she once again baring all to Celery. What sort of sorcery was she practicing? It had to be powerful to get Ollie eating rabbit food.
'So the rescue remedy worked.'
'Uh, I guess.'
'Were you calm?'
Gail nodded.
'Not on edge? No feelings of anxiety?'
'Well, yes before I left for the restaurant but then I took the remedy and,' Gail trailed off.
'So it worked,' Celery smiled.
'Yep,' Gail said, not sounding the least bit sure. Had that hippy potion made a difference? Who would know but she really didn't mind if Celery wanted to take credit. Especially, if Gail was being really honest, as it was the first time she'd actually pulled something like that off. 'Oh and hey, thanks Celery.' This time Gail's words were sincere and the smile she gave the witch was genuine.
Celery took her leave then, saying something about having to deliver a potion to a friend downtown, and giving Oliver a kiss on the cheek. Oliver gave that genial smile of his, which even in her darkest moments Gail couldn't help but find comforting. Now though there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
'What?' Gail asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
'Potion or placebo?' he said simply.
'What?'
'Thing is, my not so petulant Peck, I don't believe you needed a potion to impress Holly's parents. I think you did that on your own. But if you tell Celery I said that, I'll deny it.'
Gail laughed and shook her head. 'You have too much faith in me, Ollie. But if Celery brings up the topic again, it was definitely the rescue remedy.'
Too much faith, Oliver pondered Gail's words as she sauntered off down the corridor. Someone had to have faith in Gail because she still had moments of insecurity. Much less so than before. She'd grown up. Transformed, he realized with a measure of pride. He didn't have to worry about her so much because plenty of people now had faith in Gail Peck, but most especially Dr Holly Stewart.
It made Oliver happy Gail had found Holly, found someone who understood her idiosyncrasies and imperfections and hurts and all the wonderful and sometimes maddening sides of her. Who recognized the prickly façade as a smokescreen, and saw the keen intelligence, the compassion and the integrity that lay beneath it. Someone who appreciated and cherished all these things, the good and the bad, in a way those idiot boys never did. Really, the way Gail and Holly fit together, it was almost like Celery had conjured the doctor especially for his petulant Peck.
….
'Our women in blue,' Gail snorted, 'is Lisa on drugs.'
'Well,' Holly said, drawing out the word. They were sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table. It had been a long day. Neither had felt like cooking, so Gail had made them sandwiches with leftover Christmas turkey from the day before and grabbed two bottles of beer.
'Oh god don't tell me Lisa's been dipping into the medicine cabinet at work.'
Holly laughed. 'No, but when you're in love your brain closely resembles a brain on drugs.'
Gail crinkled her forehead. 'Yeah?' '
'In fact the areas of our brain that respond to drugs also respond to love. When you take drugs which induce pleasure, you release neurochemicals which are very similar to those released when you have sex and fall in love.'
'So you're saying the brains of people in love look like the brains of people snorting coke.'
'Essentially. Love uses the same neural mechanisms that are activated during the process of addiction.'
Not very romantic,' Gail pouted.
'It's just the scientific explanation,' Holly smiled, amused by Gail's grumbling. In the past, Gail would not only have relished the fact love was just a chemical reaction but would have taken great delight in sharing the information with as many love struck people as she could find.
All of a sudden Gail started singing. Low and throaty. Holly was again struck by what a good voice Gail had, and wondered why she needed to be reminded. Perhaps it was because Gail so rarely sang. She had to be drunk or high on painkillers, otherwise she had a reticence around singing. Now though, she didn't hold back.
'Oh oh catch that buzz
Love is the drug I'm thinking of
Oh oh can't you see
Love is the drug, got a hook in me,' she sang.
'Bryan Ferry and Roxy Music,' Holly said, 'mid 70's I think.'
Gail's smile was wide and delighted. 'How did you know that, nerd?'
'My parents had the record. I listened to it growing up.'
'And Grace Jones did a cover in the 80's and there was one a few years back.'
Holly straightened up to kiss Gail. Just a quick brush of her lips. Gail smiled once more and then she sniggered.
'Women in blue. Really. Can I pay out Lisa about that next time I see her?'
'No. This is the first time in her thirty-six years she's ever been in love. I think we should go easy on her.'
Gail snorted again. 'And I suppose you'll make me go to dinner with Lisa and Fiona Vincent.'
'Well,' Holly said, dragging out the word again.
'Clearly Holly you are not addicted enough to me. Otherwise you wouldn't be forcing me to do such a hideous thing. So,' Gail said shifting so she was facing Holly and putting her hand on the waistband of Holly's jeans to tug her closer, 'so I think I need to work on firing up those neurochemicals some more.'
Holly tilted her head to one side, smiling. 'I think I'm plenty addicted, but just to be sure,' she trailed off.
The fact was she was completely, utterly addicted to Gail Peck. Not in some dysfunctional co-dependent way or like a junkie desperate for a hit and willing to do anything for it. No, the love Holly felt for Gail had a purity to it, a rightness that drew them inexorably together, and which made it impossible, even for a moment, to consider taking a different course. In fact even had she plotted another course, as she vaguely attempted by fleeing to San Francisco, Holly knew somehow she would have always found her way back here to this love.
Awkward teenage fumblings aside, Holly was confident sexually and fairly sure about her attractiveness, but never had she been so aware, so certain of her effect on another person. Never had she felt this powerful tug or indeed known herself to be so cherished. And it wasn't just the sex, which was literally breath taking and like nothing she had experienced before. No, there was a connectedness with Gail. An understanding that ran deep. A knowing of the other that was hard to put in words, except that the having of it gave life a piquancy it lacked before, a feeling of things being in sharper focus, but also of completeness.
It was a love, Holly realized, that was vast and complicated and yet so simple. That had a beauty and a wonder to it. It reminded her of those old English hedgerow mazes, splendid and magnificent, and seemingly impossible to negotiate until you looked closer and saw the sense to it. So it became not a labyrinth but a way through, the twists and turns and occasional dead ends making the journey all the more compelling and rich, far more so than the prosaic certainty of the straight path. This was what being in love with Gail Peck meant and it was exquisite.
Holly became aware Gail was singing again.
'Oh oh catch that buzz
Love is the drug I'm thinking of
Oh oh can't you see
Love is the drug for me,' Gail sang, soft and sultry this time and Holly felt as if she were being serenaded.
She kissed Gail, slow and unhurried. Savoring. Then she pushed Gail back on the couch, shifting to hover over her and felt Gail's arms around her shoulders, pulling her down, pulling her in. If Gail was her drug, then Holly was hooked and she had no desire to kick this addiction.
...
In the morning Gail was wakened by the buzz of her phone. Never a good sign. As she rolled away from Holly to reach for the phone, she saw it wasn't quite six. Holly stirred slightly and pulled the covers up over her naked body. The heating would be kicking in but still that brisk, almost shocking chill of early morning had settled in the room.
By the time they had finished with each other last night, Holly and Gail were too tired to get up and find pajamas and instead had fallen into an exhausted but contented sleep, holding one another other tightly. She'd never been able to sleep with anyone else so close like that, Gail thought. Mostly she didn't like people touching her when she slept, especially after sex. Olivia and Frankie had been the exception, but with them it was more a case of tolerating an arm thrown casually around her waist. Yet nothing felt so comfortable as being cocooned in Holly's arms or wrapping herself around Holly.
'It better be good, Anderson,' Gail growled into the phone.
'Oh yeah. It's good. Dispatch received a call half an hour ago from a person claiming to have killed Mike Brierly. They said if EquanimityPlus doesn't stop testing on animals, the CEO will be the next one on the chopping block.'
'Chopping block.'
'That's a quote Peck, not me being poetic.'
…
