If you're reading this, thanks for sticking with it. Let me know you're doing more than skimming and leave a comment. ~Ray K.

Chapter Twenty-eight: Recurring Dreams

After lunch I went back over to my place to clean up some more. I was sure my mom would be back over in the morning, insisting on ironing my shirts and stuff. I didn't want her to see how I'd let the place go in the couple weeks I'd been home. I hoped she wouldn't start bugging Fraser now that she knew he lived across from me.

I was thinking about taking a break anyway when Ray called.

"Your landlady saw Tate," he told me. "He's really changed his tune. He's never seen De Luca or Passero in person, but he'll know Passero's voice, and he can back up most of Tanner's evidence."

"That's great," I said. Then I asked, "How's the report coming?"

"Eh, it's a little rough, but I think I can spin the happy ending to make up for it."

"Worth a try," I said. "Hey, I wanted to call you this morning, but you were at church... MacKenzie King called me."

"What's she want? Your life story on a silver platter?"

"Not quite, but... she wanted an interview on the Hall case. When I said no to that, she wanted to talk about my undercover work. I thought Fraser and I put her off all that, but then I find out she tracked down my parents and was trying to get something out of them. She's kinda... aggressive."

"Uh-huh. Don't let her sink her fangs in you, kid. You give her an inch—'nough said."

"Yeah, that's kinda what I thought. Hey, um... what's she like in person?"

"Ugh. A nightmare."

"But... is she pretty?"

"No, no, no, Kowalski, don't even think about it. That is the path of career suicide, sleeping with the enemy. Cops and journalists don't mix. You hear me? Say it with me. Cops..."

"Cops and journalists don't mix," I repeated with him.

"Don't you forget it. Or I will sucker-punch you next time I see you."

"All right, I get it. I was just asking." 'Cause her voice was hot. I'll ask Fraser.

"I don't think you do get it. Until you've had a reporter hounding you, you won't understand. You don't have to do anything wrong to lose your reputation, bro. Someone just has to print it."

I was slightly distracted by the fact that he called me "bro." I was pretty sure that was new. "...Right," I said, catching up with what he was saying. It made sense. "Don't worry. I won't talk to her. I'll keep telling her to talk to Welsh."

"And if that doesn't work, give her the silent treatment."

"Got it."

By suppertime, the apartment was looking pretty decent. I got out a box of macaroni and filled a pot with water and noodles. Then I went across the hall and knocked before letting myself in.

"Come—" Fraser stopped, seeing that I hadn't waited for his invitation. He was sitting on his couch, holding a book.

"Seriously, anyone could just walk in and shoot you," I said.

"Oh, Ray. The chances of that happening..."

"I'm making mac an' cheese for supper. You want some?"

Dief barked.

"Yeah, I might be able to spare a little for you," I said to him.

Fraser looked at his watch. "My, the time has slipped away. Yes, we'd be glad to join you."

"Will the table be ready for another coat soon? 'Cause I'm wide open."

"It's not like paint, Ray. A table doesn't need six coats of stain. But we can touch up the details and then stain the chairs to match. I'll just need to sand down a few rough spots."

"Sounds good," I said. "I'll let you know when supper's ready."

I told Fraser about Ray's call while we ate. "Sounds like we've got some strong witnesses now. De Luca should be going down for a while, and this may be enough cause for the police in Vegas to get a warrant to search his home and investigate his business."

"Let's hope so. The more charges brought against him, the longer he'll be off the streets."

"And the safer Ray and his family will be," I said.

"Exactly."

"Hey, I was wondering about MacKenzie King... what does she look like?"

Fraser made a thoughtful face. "On first acquaintance, she struck me as a no-nonsense sort. Dark hair, strategically accentuated curvature..."

A smile sprouted on my face. It was hilarious to hear him say stuff like that, and the mental image was fun.

"...but then the last time I saw her, she had drastically changed her look. She'd gone blonde and seemed to be purporting a sweeter, more wholesome tone."

"Oh, yeah?"

He leaned toward me just an inch or two. "But you mustn't be fooled." He said it so seriously, it was all I could do to keep from laughing in his face.

"No?"

He shook his head. "She wants to do the right thing in the end, but journalism is her first love. She can be a valuable ally, but also a dangerous enemy."

"Sounds about like Ray's opinion."

I gave what little was leftover to Diefenbaker, who looked kind of disappointed. "Sorry, but those boxes hold 'two-point-five servings.' And their opinion of a serving isn't my opinion of a serving. Maybe I'll make two boxes next time."

"I assure you, Dief gets enough dog food to eat. Everything else is a treat. And it was enough for me, thank you."

"Well, if you've got any room left," I said, opening a cupboard and pulling out a package of Oreos, "I got these."

Dief instantly perked up.

"There's chocolate in it," I snapped at the wolf.

He grumbled and lay down on the floor.

The next morning, I woke up in the middle of another nightmare. It wasn't the drowning one this time. It was Beth Botrelle. She was back on death row for no reason. And then, when I was hurrying to the governor's office to appeal to his sense of decency, I ran over a dog. I got out of the GTO and went over to it and saw that it wasn't dead. It was my old dog, Jack. I scooped him up in my arms and some part of him fell back on the ground. Like, unattached. That's not how it happened in real life, but dreams do weird sh*t sometimes. I was trying to somehow get all the pieces of him into my car when I woke up to knocking.

I squinted at my alarm clock. Almost 7:30. It would have gone off soon, anyway. I was pulling my pants on when I heard a little rattle and the front door opening. I zipped up and opened my bedroom door. My mom and Fraser were coming in together, Dief bounding ahead of them.

The wolf ran up to me and jumped up with his paws on my stomach, licking the air in the direction of my face.

"Hey, buddy," I mumbled, petting Dief's head. "What's this, a convention?" I asked the other two.

Fraser looked a little sheepish. "Well... Diefenbaker seemed... a bit eager to see you, as he was the other night," he said carefully. "And while we were waiting for you to open the door, your mother arrived with the key, so..."

"Mom, give Fraser your key," I said. "He's more likely to need it than you are. If you insist on coming over early to iron my clothes, he can let you in if I'm not up... I guarantee he will be. Early riser."

"But Stanley," she protested.

"Ray. I've told you, call me Ray."

"I'm sorry, honey. I keep forgetting."

"Uh-huh." I was in a pretty rotten mood from my dream, knowing Dief had alerted Fraser about it again, and my mom's... mothering.

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"How could I? I just got dragged out of bed by my mom, a Mountie and a wolf. God, that sounds like the beginning of a really bad joke. Joke's on me." I trudged across to the bathroom door. Dief tried to follow me.

I turned around and took his furry face in my hands. "I'm fine," I told him.

He went back to Fraser and I shut myself in the bathroom. I could hear them talking about me. I blocked it out.

When I came out, I was a little calmer. The dream was fading and I didn't have to pee and I'd scrubbed my face. Mom was frying eggs and the coffee pot was going. I went to sit by Fraser on one of my bar stools and watched her. "Sorry," I said, not looking at anyone.

"Oh, it's all right, dear," Mom said. "You're just tired. Benton tells me you have a big day today."

"Yeah... have to go to court for an arraignment. Or four." And turn in my badge and gun, I thought dismally.

"Would you like me to pack you a lunch?"

"You don't have to do that."

"It's no trouble. I know you'll just end up getting something unhealthy from a fast food place if I don't."

I sighed. "Sure. Knock yourself out."

"Home-made lunches are usually healthier and more cost-effective than purchased prepared food," Fraser put in.

"Mhm. So, um... is Dad still mad at me?"

"He's not mad."

"He was."

"He really missed you, Sta—Ray. We moved out here to be near you, you know."

"I know, but... it's not like I asked you to." I knew that sounded really ungrateful, but it was true. I felt like it wasn't fair for them to guilt me over a decision they made, especially when they'd stayed away for so long, and not even discussed their move with me.

"Perhaps I should..." Fraser started, moving like he was going to get up.

I put my hand firmly on his shoulder. "Stay."

"Very well..."

"I know you didn't," Mom said, flipping the eggs onto a plate. "And I know you and your dad have been a little... well, he's really trying to make things better. I think he's just a bit frustrated."

And I'm not? But I got what she was saying. "Yeah." I took the plate from her and picked up the fork she'd put out for me. "You eaten?" I asked Fraser.

"Yes, thank you," he answered.

I felt something on my thigh and looked down to see that it was Dief's paw.

"And so has Dief," Fraser said quickly.

Dief fussed.

I shrugged. "Sorry, pal. Alpha has spoken."

When my mom finally let me go (I didn't escape without an ironed shirt and a kiss on the cheek), I drove Fraser and Dief to the consulate. We didn't talk much until Fraser brought up my dream, asking if Dief had been right to get him to wake me.

"Eh... it's just one of those recurring dreams that won't leave me alone," I said. "Remember I told you I had a dog? His name was Jack. He was dying again in my dream... only this time I'm the one who hit him." I left out the part about Beth Botrelle.

"That must have been very unpleasant for you," Fraser said, sounding sympathetic.

Dief put his head on my shoulder.

"Loved that dog," I said. "He wasn't very smart, and not much to look at, but..."

"But he was a friend."

"Yeah."

"Have you thought about getting another dog?"

"Nah, I don't have the time. I couldn't get away with taking a pet around everywhere like you do."

Dief lifted his head, staring at me in the rearview mirror.

"Sorry, I know you're not a pet," I told him.

He put his head back down.

"Perhaps you could request a K-nine partner," Fraser suggested.

"Hm. I never thought of that. It's not really normal for a homicide detective, though. I don't know of any detectives in our division that have them."

"It could be worth looking into."

"Maybe."

"You know, I had a strange dream last night, myself."

"Oh, yeah?" Fraser was already pretty strange. I couldn't imagine what his dreams were like.

"You remember the Netsilik Inuit we encountered at Gjoa Haven?"

"Uh... yeah. Gjoa Haven, population less than a thousand. Netsilik, highest rate of homicide in the Arctic. How could I forget?"

"You remember the ancient igloos outside the settlement?"

"Yeah. They had to dig them out every time it snowed to maintain their tourist attraction. 'See the hundred-year-old igloos. Buy a soapstone carving. Try raw seal.' I remember."

"You remember the graves?"

"Uh-huh. That was the weirdest part. They had to dig those out every time, too. Digging up graves on a regular basis. Queer. And those white rocks. Where did they get them? Did they pack snowballs until they turned into rocks?"

"That's physically impossible, Ray."

"Yeah, yeah. What was your dream about?"

"Well, I dreamed I was looking at the grave of the unnamed Inuit woman... something was wrong with it."

"What?"

"I don't know."

"Well, what happened?"

"Oh, Diefenbaker started digging it up and you were inside."

"Me?"

"Yes... in reality, Dief had gone to sniff at his food bowl, and hearing him moving around, I believe that my subconscious mixed the dream with the memory of him waking you from a nightmare. When you emerged from the grave you said something to the effect of 'it's about time' and then you brewed a cup of coffee."

I raised one eyebrow. "And then?"

"At that point, the dream was too bizarre to pursue, so I woke up."

"Huh. Well, this is your stop... maybe I can think of a good interpretation for you by the time court convenes... are you coming to the arraignment?"

"Ray asked me to come, since there's a small possibility I could be called."

"Okay. I can come by and pick you up when it's time."

"All right, here's the lineup," Welsh told me and Ray in his office. "Tanner and Tate are being charged first. That's at about ten o'clock. Hopefully they'll both get through before lunch and we can have a break and then go back to wait for Passero and De Luca to get in there."

We nodded to show we understood.

"Kowalski," he said, holding up some papers that I knew was Ray's detailed report on what had happened over the weekend, "I'm going to let you keep your badge and gun for now, because I wouldn't want you to have to explain anything should the judge call you today."

I nodded again.

"But once we get out of court and come back here, I need you to hand them over. I'm giving you a two-week suspension with possibility of coming back early if, uh... if you prove that you've got your head on straight."

"He means 'if we really, really need you,'" Ray put in.

"Yes, sir."

"I trust your sergeant has already made it clear that we don't allow our detectives to make horses' asses of themselves in this division."

"I got the message, sir."

"Good. Now, get your notes together, make sure you're one hundred percent ready for anything you might happen to get asked, including what you had for breakfast, and then we'll get over to the courthouse."

"How'd the interview go with Passero?" I asked Ray as we headed for our desks.

"Huey played good cop for me. Passero played hardball," he answered.

"Get anything out of him?"

"Nothing verbal, but his poker tells were saying he had a lot to be nervous about."

Again, thanks for reading. How about giving me something to read? ~Ray K.