Traffic was slow, far too slow for such an unpleasant ride. Hopper kept to himself. To be honest, there was far too much silence. Joyce caught his gaze from the corner of her eye, dissecting her little by little, studying her from head to toe. He was annoying! Joyce wished she had the ability to read minds because she was desperate to find out what he was thinking. Even though she knew it couldn't be good. And why was she so concerned with what he thought of her? They hadn't gotten off to a good start, and things were only getting worse!
Joyce bit her lower lip in worry. She'd never admit it, but Murray was right. She shouldn't have known his name or anything about Hopper. His life, his history, and, most importantly, his daughter! His child was adorable. They had duped her into thinking Murray was her distant uncle. It's a white lie. They planned to return the girl home before Hopper came back. It was simple. But they had forgotten to include the cop in their plan!
Everything would be so much easier if he was just a random stranger who didn't matter. Someone to destroy without guilt. Wait, did she care? Why? He could have arrested her without remorse a few moments ago. What was about to happen next? She had no idea. Nothing was going according to plan. Fuck. She was driving a police car! Her lips curved into a wry smile.
"Do you find it amusing?" Hopper's grumpy voice snapped her out of her reverie.
"It's ironic." She cast a glance at him, attempting to break the ice, or in this case, a glacier. "Admit it, it's ironic that someone like me drives a police car."
"I suppose so," He remained on the defensive. Hopper wasn't pleased with the path they were taking. They were going to pass right by the old quarry! What place did they take his daughter to? Was it a real trap? "You should go handcuffed, and on your way to the station."
"Oh… came on…" She sighed, slightly disappointed. She assumed they were approaching some sort of agreement. But as time passed, they grew even further apart.
Hopper could have arrested her already; he had the opportunity. But, it also demonstrated that he wasn't always a strict cop with the law. They might be able to reach an agreement or bribe. In those circumstances, it was her only hope. Her theory is that he wouldn't do it until her daughter was safe.
"I can change my mind as long as you keep talking." He added as if he were establishing personal boundaries. It wasn't going to be that simple.
"Are you always this terribly rude? I'm trying to be nice and make the trip a pleasant one." Joyce had grown tired of his constant defensiveness. Every time she tried to approach him, he took several steps back!
"Should I be nice to my daughter's kidnapper?" He took a breather before turning to face her. "Please tell me. Are you nice and polite with Brenner?"
As they approached a traffic signal, her knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. The quarry was not far away.
"How…?"
"Oh, please. Do you think I'm that stupid?"
He then fell silent, as if he had resolved the issue.
Joyce could have reacted sarcastically, but it wasn't the right time. He made it clear that he intended to test the waters.
"Are you asking for information?"
"Why would I do that?" he snorted, arrogantly certain of himself. "I'm simply stating the obvious. I'm not good at chess, but I'm good at figuring things out. Even if you don't like it, it's my job."
She began to become enraged. "Oh, yes? What have you discovered, Sherlock Holmes?"
"Well. Your mission is to locate the cylinder for 'The snakes'. It's odd. They would never tell anyone about its existence. But this cylinder has been lost for some reason, and they want to recover it. I guess, Brenner, after learning how far it was from New York, and," Hopper was paying attention to her reactions. "Knowing they don't like to leave their main base, they hired two petty thieves to do their dirty work for them."
He chuckled as her brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, but you don't seem one of them." He clarified, ironically. "Brenner, on the other hand, wouldn't let anyone get their hands on those things unless he had a guarantee. You know, a safeguard against future issues. You stated that you understood what it's like to lose a child, so..."
Joyce's eyes began to shine with sadness.
"I'm guessing that guarantee is... Will?" Hopper went on, aware that he'd struck a nerve.
Her breathing quickened, as she tried to concentrate on the road. It was becoming difficult.
"Tell me, did that jerk really promise you that this would end when you brought him the cylinder? Don't you realize what he's capable of?"
"Enough already!" Her voice was nearly broken as she yelled.
"Why?" he demanded, still resentful of her. "Oh, God... If you believe that, you're a fool!"
He'd been pushing Joyce's buttons, and now he was in hot water.
"I get it, you know? Do you want me to congratulate you? Bravo! Would you like me to tell you what a great cop you are? Nope. I've also investigated about you." Her rage did the talking for her. "If you were such a good cop, you would have arrested that Brenner bastard seven years ago! I would no longer have to suffer for my son, and your wife might still be alive!"
Those words stabbed him in the chest, the knife fully inserted and slowly and painfully twisting, ripping him open.
Joyce paused, looking for words. She could have apologized, but she didn't. They stared at each other, both hurt and broken.
The car radio came on after a minute of awkward silence.
"Chief, you copy? Whatever you're doing, I don't care. You must report to the station. Government agents have arrived, and they intend to conduct a search for two fugitives. This appears to be a serious situation. They say they're dangerous," Flo worried."Do you copy, for the love of God?"
Joyce grabbed his wrist tightly as he reached for the device. "Don't do it."
"Let me go." He was wary of her.
"Don't even think about turning on the radio!"
"Or what?!" He almost laughed, stretching his arm out even further to take the device.
Joyce unexpectedly swerved. The car slid off the road. The movement's inertia threw Hopper to the opposite side of the radio. "What are you doing?" Nervous, he exclaimed. They were on their way to the abandoned quarry. A rusted gate marked the end of the drive, but Joyce made no move to slow down.
"Joyce! Stop it! There's a ravine ahead!"
"No!" She yelled out of her mind.
He grabbed the steering wheel, attempting to swerve the car, but her knuckles were also pressed against it. The car slammed into the doors, which slid open with a loud metallic screech as a result of the impact.
"Joyce! The drop is more than 50 meters! Stop!" He yelled in shock.
"You're not going to pick up the radio!"
"What?!" That's when he became terrified.
"You're not going to report me now!"
"OK! OK!"
They both looked forward. "SHIT!"
Joyce's foot dug into the brake as Hopper yanked hard on the hand brake. "Fuck!" He screamed in agony as his shoulder collided with the car's dashboard. The ravine's edge wasn't far away.
The tires got stuck, and the old car squealed in protest.
Joyce screamed in terror as they were getting dangerously close to the ravine. She instinctively grasped Hopper as if she were grasping at straws. The car finally came to a halt a few meters from the gorge.
Everything became a jumble of sensations for a few moments. The odor of burned tires, the sound of his labored breathing or their sweat. His knuckles were still stuck on the brake lever, unable to move. It had come so close!
Hopper tried to react after regaining some composure. "What's wrong with you?! You nearly killed us!" He groaned, wanting to roar but lacking the necessary air in his lungs.
Joyce, who was still terrified, couldn't hear him. Her ear was pressed against his chest, listening to his heart's wild beat. Her hands trembled, but she was still held on to him. When the rational part of their brains took over, they split apart as if they had been burned.
Hopper cleared his throat as he took the keys out of the ignition. They waited for their breaths to return to normal before trying to speak again.
"It's fine if you hate me." She took a deep breath, stepping way off the well-worn path of her usual behavior. She was stepping into uncharted territory. Honesty. Desperation. "That's ok. I've only screwed you over. Every time. I don't even have an excuse." She felt him leaning toward the window, even though she couldn't look him in the eyes. "I admit it: I'm a hypocrite. Trying to save my child by harming another's child? I'm not a good person." She began to stutter. "I'm not asking you to feel sorry for me. But if you turn me in, Will will suffer. He's a good boy. He doesn't deserve any of this, I swear." Her gaze finally locked on his, searching for a glimmer of compassion. "I…"
She wanted to have faith in him. They had barely met, but her instincts told her it was worth a shot. "I wish I could fix everything and make things right," she admitted. "I'd like to try it... It's just that I'm terrible at it."
She averted her gaze, knowing it wasn't a good idea for them to remain on the defensive. That was leading them down the road to mutual destruction. Literally.
"I'm sorry. Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing."
"No shit..."
She gave a melancholy smile. Her smile was lovely, even if it was sad.
The radio blared again "Hop! Seriously, stop loafing around!"
"I have to pick up the radio."
Joyce was taken aback. "You said you wouldn't!"
"I told you I wasn't going to give you away... just yet."
"Don't! You liar!" she exclaimed, accusing him.
"Do you realize that the alternative was to have fallen off a cliff?" he sighed.
"I got you, Flo... You know I'm a little... ehmmm... Busy." Joyce tightened as he spoke.
"Did you hear what I said? Hop, get off your ass! The authorities have arrived. This's a serious situation. Do you have any information about those two fugitives?"
"I…" He cleared his throat, and she froze. "I'm not sure. I'm on my way, but first I need to... pick up something." He wasn't bad at concealing the truth without lying.
"Hop, don't be late!"
He turned off the radio, and Joyce looked at him, puzzled.
"What... what does that mean?" she wondered, terrified.
He pointed at her. "It means you're taking me to my daughter, but, this time... I'm driving."
Murray's fingers were pressed against his temples. He was focused on his next move. The situation was desperate, almost hopeless.
He couldn't believe everything was going to end there, without him being able to defend himself. It wasn't fair, she was going to steal his most valuable possession right under his nose!
"I have a three." he said as he tossed a card onto the table.
"A seven." He received a condescending look from Jane. "I win once more, and..." She got a donut from a nearby box. "This is the last one, and it's mine."
Murray looked downcast at the candy. I hope you choke to death! He thought to himself as he faked a smile. "I'm beginning to suspect you're a swindler."
She burst out laughing. "My father taught me how to play this. He's invincible. Oh, the donut is sooooo delicious."
Murray sighed and rolled his eyes. He hated children! And what was Joyce doing taking so long?
The door to the rental house opened. His partner finally arrived to rescue him from that torture!
"Joyce!" He jumped up and called to her, relieved to be able to end his ordeal.
"You found it?" he inquired quickly, but came to a complete stop when he saw Hopper approaching from behind her.
"What?!" In alertness, his eyes widened.
Murray reached for the back of his belt without hesitation, intending to grab a weapon. Hopper followed suit, reaching for his holster. Joyce moved forward, hoping to avert a potentially dangerous situation.
"Dad!" The girl ran to hug Hopper, oblivious to the tension. "You're here!"
Joyce took advantage of the situation by getting between the two men.
"What are you doing?!" Murray muttered.
Joyce's gaze was drawn to the girl, to the way she hugged her father. So much unconditional love. She'd give anything to be in his shoes, wishing that girl was Will, her son. She looked up at Hopper, who was keeping a wary eye on her. She couldn't help but nod, a sad smile on her face. Something changed between them at that moment, a first glimmer of trust.
Hopper took his fingers off the gun and wrapped the girl in a bear hug, relieved to see her safe and sound.
"Are you all right?" He examined her from head to toe.
"Sure! But, uncle Murray... He's a killjoy..." Jane spoke more quietly. "He's terrible at cards."
"Hey! I can hear you!" Murray exclaimed, still unable to believe what he was witnessing.
She made a shaky motion with her head. "Can we go home? I'm starving."
"How can you possibly be hungry? You devoured two boxes of donuts! Two!" Murray protested.
Jane laughed as she looked at her father. "I like eggos better."
"Sure..." Hopper took a defensive step in front of her. "Go to the car and wait there."
They all stood there uncomfortably watching the girl walk out the door before the war began.
Murray exploded at that point. "What exactly does this mean?"
Joyce raised her hand in an attempt to calm him down. "Relax!"
"Joyce! Are you insane?!" He was enraged, not believing she could have brought her problems home like a small child.
"Murray, please stop talking. Look, I did my part. Now he'll fulfill his, right?"
"What?" Hopper shrugged. "We haven't reached an agreement."
"Of course." Joyce continued, concerned. "I… I kept my promise. I've taken you to your daughter. I assumed you... well, what happened with the radio..."
Murray swung his arms. "What radio? Hello? What's going on?"
Joyce moved closer to Hopper. Determined and relentless. "Consider it. This could turn out well for all of us. You give us the cylinder, and I guarantee you will never hear from us again. We'll vanish without making a sound. You can go back to your normal life."
"Oh! Are you asking me to turn a blind eye?" Hopper chuckled.
"Why not? You have nothing to lose. Everyone wins."
"Including Brenner." Hopper sounded disgusted, as if he wanted to spit that name out.
"What?" Murray placed his hands on his brow. "Did you also tell him about Brenner and the cylinder, JOYCE? Please stop from ignoring me!"
She sighed, though she finally nodded. "Think about it. Don't make the decision on the spur of the moment. I can wait. After all, I can't leave without the cylinder either."
Murray's eyes widened. "Wait? For him to arrive with cavalry to arrest us?"
Joyce finally addressed Murray. "He could have done it already. And here we are."
Hopper stepped closer. "You could have killed me twice as well. And here I am."
"What?! What on earth are you on about?" Murray blinked, worried.
Hopper averted his gaze. "I'll consider it."
Joyce simply nodded. At the very least, it was something. Better than an emphatic no. "Thanks."
He turned to face her, wanting to clarify things. "But, I can't make any promises."
"I understand... I..." She raised her hand with the intention of affectionately touching his arm, but she backed down at the last moment.
"For the love of God..." Murray let out a snort from behind her. "I can't believe it... Would you like me to reserve you a hotel room?"
Joyce's cheeks instantly flushed. "Murray!" She yelled angrily at him.
Hopper swallowed and cleared his throat. "I...um," he hurriedly said as he opened the door and stepped outside. "Jane is waiting for me."
She flashed a tense smile. "Sure…"
Murray, his arms folded, watched Hopper walk away towards the car. "Are we really letting him go?"
Weary, she leaned against the door. "Don't ask why... but I have a feeling."
"No. I have a BAD FEELING about this. Joyce, I can't go to jail! I'm a sweetie! We pack our bags and go, now!"
To be continued.