Author's Note: Hello, C.O.P.S. fans. Okay, some things that I need to remind you of here. One, in this story, the name of Longarm's wife is Elise, not Linda, as it is in the cartoon serial. When I started the prequel, I had no idea of what Mrs. O'Malley's first name was, so I picked Elise as a nice enough name. (As you can read, she and Valerie are co-workers, and I wanted to refer to her by her given name.) It wasn't until I was well into writing "Valerie" (Chapter 29, in fact) that I learned her true identity, and it was against site regulations to go back and change the name just for this reason (still is!). So, Mrs. O'Malley's first name in this story will be Elise, just like in "Valerie."
Secondly, I had to adjust the formation date of the C.O.P.S. organization for story purposes here. This story and "Valerie," just like the cartoon, is set in the year 2020 (the year 2021 coming up in this case.) However, if you go back to Chapter 7 of "Valerie," I stated that the laughably unbelievable romance that was Mace and Nightshade had been going on for a year, at the time Nightshade found out about Mace and Valerie. According to the show's timeline, that romance didn't start up until several months after C.O.P.S. was formed. Fast forward a few more months, and the events of that "Lawless Lady" episode (you know, the one where the "fake" lovers" get engaged, never saw it, though) take place. So in this story, I will assume that the C.O.P.S. organization came together around late summer of early fall of 2018. Oh, and the C.O.P.S. from Season 2 supposedly came along at this point, but I'm only using Season 1 C.O.P.S. and Crooks in the story, along the OC member of C.O.P.S. from the prequel.
Hope that clears up any confusion. Please read, review and enjoy.
Chapter 2
"Elise, thank you so much for taking over for me these past few weeks," Valerie said the next day. "I feel I owe you one big time."
She was at the home of Officer P.J. "Longarm" O'Malley, having cappuccinos with his wife, Elise, who was also Valerie's friend and co-worker. Elise had been fulfilling Valerie's duties as project manager while she was sitting in with Mr. Sussex on interviews. She had heard that Elise did a very good job, getting acceptances on three projects out of four.
"No problem," Elise replied. "You're my friend, and when Mr. Sussex approached me to cover for you, I was more than happy to do it."
"And you did a tremendous job, too," Valerie replied. "You have to tell me about it – including that rejection. I don't believe this, my first rejection?"
Elise rolled her eyes. "A competition, 'battle of the sexes' thing where August Bata's project team big time beat me," she sighed. "A commercial for the National Army searching for recruits. Margo Kellogg and Carmen Robana decide to theme this on the sacrifices soldiers make for their country, and all this pride stuff and that, just in time for Veteran's Day. We had a depressing scene in a war veteran's cemetery, and all these soldiers getting shot and killed in between. I desperately tried to talk them out of it, saying it was too sad. I mean, would you do a commercial for police recruits, then have cops getting killed in the line of duty?" She guzzled her cappuccino like it was beer.
"God, no," Valerie said, her lip bit so she wouldn't laugh.
"Exactly!" Elise said. "And the clients could not believe what they saw! They said the cemetery was 'disturbingly emotional,' and the casualties of war were 'horrifying, sad and scary.' I was so disgusted with Margo and Carmen's shocked looks. They said we didn't know anything about the Army or Navy. It was embarrassing. Meanwhile, August's team had men and women from a local Army base barking out advantages of joining up, like they were military orders, and showing these advantages in between."
"Oh, God!" Valerie lamented. "Okay, I've heard enough."
"Oh, no, there's one more thing," Elise said. "You may be interviewing for another replacement in the near future, because Carmen was called out for the failure."
"I would've done the same thing." Valerie sipped her drink. "So, tell me all about your successes."
Elise smiled and said, "One was a newspaper ad for this store, Cheapers Keepers. They've got this two-week sale on Halloween costumes starting yesterday and running until the day before Halloween. We were given ten adult costumes and ten kid costumes. We started with the kid costumes. Cindy work with us on this, and it was her idea for us to go to Brian and Tyler's school to recruit boys and girls to appear in the ad. Brian was in the ad, wearing this Superman costume we had – ooh, but my little boy was so cute."
"Mom!" her son, Brian, called from the living room. "I think Jeremy and I can hear that!"
"Sorry, Brian," Elise called back, then continued to Valerie, "All the kids looked so sweet in the costumes we had them wearing, in fact. The clients fell in love with that part immediately."
"What about the adult costumes?" Valerie asked.
"Stephen Flett had this idea of recruiting Cheapers Keepers employees from all of Empire City's locations," Elise said. "One of them the locations we called was owned by our client, and he loved that idea, but he could only get three volunteers. Thankfully, we could recruit the other seven from two other shops. Stephen got the pictures that afternoon, Cindy stayed behind to work on the layout and prices, and the next day, we added the costume model pictures. We managed to get it done by lunch, and Mr. Lancer thought it was good. Needless to say, we set up the presentation a day early."
"That's great," Valerie grinned.
Elise then told her about a one-page advertisement she completed by herself over Columbus Day weekend, suitable for high-class magazines in Empire City. It was a hand-drawn project promoting a local chocolate maker, Charlemagne. She said, "I got this idea after looking at some pictures of a friend's recent fall vacation in Paris. People sitting at tables at an outdoor café on a spring afternoon, eating boxes of Charlemagne chocolates. I showed the chocolates being eaten, even have a string of caramel from an eater's mouth, very important for the ad. The slogan was, 'Devour the taste of Europe.' I should have Mr. Lancer show it to you, all the colors. They said it really captured the consumer's eye, and it looked like a modern-day classical painting. They even talked about a serial featuring other parts of Europe – Switzerland, Italy, Belgium, Denmark. I'll need your help with these."
"Sure thing," Valerie promised.
"And this week," Elise concluded, "I led a 30-second promotional video project for office software from Softbrand Computers in Seattle. This one does spreadsheets, slideshows like PowerPoint does, and all these professional features of word processing. I won't give you all the details, but I took a lesson from the Army commercial fiasco. So we created a slideshow presentation featuring animation and color for all the images with text, and moving pictures showing each feature. Valerie, they fell all over it."
Valerie smiled. "You're right, I'm going to have to ask Mr. Lancer to show me those three accepted ads. I may have to ask him and Sussex to promote you to project manager." She giggled, then sipped her cappuccino. "Especially if we might have to expand and hire more people next year."
She thought of Barricade's brother and sisters who had advertising careers. She still hadn't met anyone in his family yet, and wondered when she was going to. And if that last part was true, then she was looking forward to working with them.
Meanwhile, Marilyn, still determined to meet Hugh "Bullseye" Forward, was driving back to C.O.P.S headquarters. Her two children, twelve-year-old Justin and seven-year-old Bridget, were sitting quietly in the backseat. Although she came to a green light, she suddenly slammed her foot on the brake, as a ten-wheeler soda pop truck sped past her at the intersection, speeding through a red light. The children looked scared to her in her rear-view mirror.
"Jesus Christ!" she screamed. "Drive through a red light, why don't you?!" Then she saw two police cars speeding past her. "Good! Maybe they will help the asshole learn the law!"
She decided to turn and follow the police cars. "Mom," Justin said, "I thought we were going to C.O.P.S headquarters."
"I know, honey," Marilyn replied, "but I'm curious as to why this bastard is in such a hurry." She then looked at Bridget in her mirror and gasped.
"Oh, sorry for the bad language, sweetie," she said to her. Bridget didn't reply.
As Marilyn drove, Justin could see part of the Air Raid helicopter flying just above the buildings, out of the windshield. "Cool!" he cried. "They have a helicopter joining the chase, too."
"Why would they have a helicopter in a police chase?" Bridget asked.
"This is so the pilot can see the action of the chase," Justin explained, "and report what's going on to the cruiser cops through radio, like when that truck driver will get out and flee on foot. I remember Dad telling me about this."
Suddenly, the truck turned onto another street. Marilyn couldn't tell with the cars ahead of her, but she thought the back of the truck collided with something else on the turn. She sighed with frustration, saying to herself, "God, when will this chase come to an end?"
The chase continued as they crossed one of the bridges leading to another borough of the city. Across the street from the end of the bridge was a brick building that looked like an apartment complex. The closest street crossing was only three feet away, not enough room for the truck to turn, so it ended up crashing into the building on the right side of that street. Marilyn stopped in front of that building, so she couldn't see if the driver got out or not, same with the officers who were chasing him.
Marilyn backed her car up to the driver's side of the truck. The door was open, as were the doors of the police cars just a dozen feet ahead. But the Air Raid was still flying along with the chase in the distance. As she prepared to get out, she told her children, "Stay in the car, okay, kids? I'm just going to see if I can find anyone."
She looked out for only a few moments, then said, "Whoever can lead the police in a chase on foot for this long must be a really good runner."
A couple of minutes later, she could see two officers coming back, carrying the suspect by the arms. One of them was wearing a trenchcoat along with sunglasses, but Marilyn could tell it was Bulletproof from the day before. The second officer was dressed more like a normal policeman, perhaps a patrol officer, the blue button-down shirt with the badge, and black pants, the police cap, and carrying a nightstick. But she noticed an unfamiliar handcuffing device on his right wrist. It was Longarm himself
The suspect they had wore dark glasses, a pink shirt and white pants with suspenders, and short-cut hair with a mustache attached to a beard. Behind them, she saw Barricade and Mace carrying another suspect, this one having a blond crew-cut, and wearing white pants without suspenders. She also noticed a barrel-type body underneath the red shirt and blue jacket he wore.
She didn't notice, but the C.O.P.S. were shocked to see her.
"Marilyn Hobbes?" Bulletproof cried. "Ms. Hobbes? Where did you come from? What are you doing here? Have you been following us this whole time?"
Instead of answering the question, Marilyn said, "Bulletproof? Thanks for showing me the assholes who caused me to make a sudden stop at the intersection when the light was green." She turned to Longarm. "And you must be Longarm, right? Elise told me about you while we were on coffee break yesterday." She only grinned nervously and Barricade and Mace.
The suspect in the pink shirt grinned at Marilyn and said, "Hey, baby, yer lookin' cute. How's about you an' me gettin' it on back at my place when I get outta jail?"
She looked at him. "And who in the hell are you?" she shot back. The other suspect just gave a devious grin to her, and she suddenly looked uneasy.
Before she could get an answer, a paddywagon arrived to take the two suspects away. When the C.O.P.S. finished booking the suspects, Bulletproof said, "Marilyn, get into your car and follow us back to HQ. You have a lot of explaining to do."
She looked up at the Air Raid, hovering around fifty meters above her. She felt as if the pilot was looking down at her, too. She got back into her car, and sighed at the trouble she may be in. "And all this because I wanted to meet that helicopter pilot Valerie told me about," she muttered.
Back at the headquarters, Marilyn was escorted to the interviewing room. There, she was staring at Bulletproof, Longarm, Barricade, Mace, and four more C.O.P.S. officers; a young man with mousy brown hair, wearing a black driving suit (though she couldn't tell); an older man with tanned skin and a curled mustache, wearing a ten-gallon hat and a white and brown sheriff's uniform with a holster around his waist; a younger man with reddish-brown hair wearing blue pilot's suit (again, Marilyn couldn't tell); and a woman with jet black hair and a police uniform like Longarm's. Donny "Hardtop" Brooks, Walker "Sundown" Calhoun, Hugh "Bullseye" Forward and Suzie "Mirage" Young", as Bulletproof respectively introduced to Marilyn. All eight C.O.P.S. looked cross with her.
"Now," Bulletproof said, "what were you doing following us on a police chase that had nothing to do with you?"
Marilyn stared and pointed at Bullseye. "I was on my way here to see if this officer was on duty and around," she said. "Valerie had promised me, before I was even hired at Lancer and Sussex, that she would introduce me to him. Bullseye, the one that you, Bulletproof, said was not in when we came here yesterday, remember?"
"I remember," Bulletproof said. "Go on."
"Anyway," Marilyn continued, "I was about to legally drive through a green light when this humongous truck you were chasing – I was guessing it was stolen – flew by at God knows what high speed, right through a fucking red light! Had it not been for that sudden stop that probably scared the hell out of my kids, I would have crashed, and all three of us would have been fucking killed! I was only curious to know who those asshole drivers were, going so recklessly. The one in that awful pink shirt and mismatching pants, and that punk in the red and blue, with that brushcut. Who were they."
"That one with the pink shirt, that Bulletproof and I had with us," Longarm said, "his name is Turbo Tu-Tone. And that one with blond crewcut, his name is Berserko. Has Valerie or Elise ever told you about the Big Boss?"
"No," Marilyn answered. "They only mentioned you guys. Elise went on and on about how happily she was married to you, Longarm, and Valerie told me about dating some of you all at once. But I saw her kissing Barricade yesterday, so I'm guessing that–"
"Yes, Ms. Hobbes, your colleague, Valerie Boston, chose me as her only one," Barricade bragged.
Marilyn turned back to Bullseye. "And Valerie also told me that you rejected her without even giving her a chance," she told him.
"That's because I could never have a connection with her son," Bullseye admitted. "I could tell just by looking at him. Ms. Hobbes, my dream father-son bonding activity would be to show the boy that Air Raid helicopter I was flying, and having him fly with me. Maybe even teach him to fly. I felt horrible treating her so badly, but how could I do that with Jeremy if he's so physically and mentally inept, and moving his head around all the time? If I put him in the pilot's seat, I'd be putting the both of us in danger."
She thought it over, then gave an accepting smile. "Fair enough. And by the way, you can call Ms. Hobbes when you pick me as your project manager at the agency, and we're discussing recruitment or fundraising commercials or something like that. Valerie said you guys were our clients. When I'm not on my job, you can call me Marilyn, okay?"
"Fair enough," Bulletproof replied, and the C.O.P.S. began to feel more comfortable towards her."
Marilyn looked at Bullseye again. "Just so you know, Bullseye," she said, "I have a twelve-year-old son and seven-year-old daughter. They're standing outside this room, waiting for me. Justin is fascinated by airplanes and helicopters, and anything else that flies. I'm confident he'll like you."
"Thanks, Marilyn," Bullseye said, "but won't your husband object if we start a friendship together?"
She held out her hands to show no wedding ring. "I don't have a husband," she said. "He was a police officer who was killed on duty a few days before Christmas last year."
"Oh, Marilyn, we're so sorry," Bulletproof said.
"It's okay. I'm a strong woman determined to move myself and my kids along." She retrieved a small sheet of paper and wrote down her phone number for Bullseye. "Bullseye, why don't you give me a call sometime this weekend? Maybe we can do something."
He looked hesitant, being asked for a date on that spot. "Sure, Marilyn, I'd love to. Maybe if I don't get off my shift too late, I'll call you tonight. If I don't, how about tomorrow afternoon or evening?"
"That's fine. I'll be waiting for you." She smiled as she walked out and gathered up her children. On the way out, she passed rookie officer Tina "Mainframe" Cassidy. Marilyn chatted with her for a bit as she studied the blue vest and jeans, and baseball cap she wore. She inwardly wondered what was in Mainframe's closet at home. She could use a more feminine look, she thought.
When he got off his shift that night, Sundown headed directly to the Cavalier Country and Western Club. He'd been there a few nights that week, nights when he wasn't on duty. He frequented the bar for a few drinks, something he'd done ever since Valerie finally picked Barricade over him. He ordered scotch with Coca-Cola and ice. As the bartender tended to the order, he asked, "You still depressed over that Valerie woman gittin' away? Why, when I caught my last girlfriend with some construction man, I managed to git over it immediately. I just said, "Lady, if you ain't gonna stop yer philanderin', then I see no reason why this relationship should continue."
"Valerie Boston ain't never was like that," Sundown replied. "She was beautiful, she was radiant. She had the power to attract any man who ever looked at her. Sure, she had some of my colleagues as well as me, but the look in her eyes told me she loved me, she wanted to be wit me. At least, that what I reckoned." He drank a quarter of his drink. "I loved her, an' I honestly reckoned that she loved me enough to wanna marry me. I could tell she wanted somethin' long term. Damn, I wish I could understand what Barricade had that I didn't. Lord knows I had that same promise to security he had, somethin' I knew she needed."
He looked out at the women sitting at the tables. He saw one redhead, but it was mostly blondes and brunettes. All the brunettes had dark hair, flat down past their shoulders. Some blondes wore their hair like that, too, but a few others had that same curly and bouncy hair Valerie had. Half were wearing dresses, the other half had cowboy shirts and boots with blue jeans. But no one was flirting with him, or even acknowledging his presence. He looked out at the dance floor, the floor he and Valerie danced on when they were there the weekend before he gave her flowers. Three couples two-stepping to some fast-dancing love song, no one who was unattached. Memories of Sundown and Valerie dancing slow on that floor suddenly came back to him, and he turned away. He was choking, but tried hard not to cry. He gulped the rest of his drink, and slammed the glass on the bar, but it did not shatter.
"No," he whispered aloud. "Damn, I miss Valerie so much. I miss her son, Jeremy. Oh, why the hell did she have to go an' reject me?"
Just then, Lorna came into the country club, alone. She sat down at one of the few vacant tables in the whole place. She'd been there a few times before, as well as other bars in Empire City, with her cousin Tammy-Lynn, usually on ladies' nights. It was mostly to reclaim her social life in attempt to recover from Stuart's execution, but this time, both Tammy-Lynn and Jackson encouraged her to find someone else to love. She looked around at the men in the club. They all looked gorgeous with their brown, jet-black and blonde hair, some covered by ten-gallon cowboy hats, and masculine facial features, and their Western-type shirts, and blue, black and grey jeans. But all of them were talking, making out or dancing with other women. She folded her arms and sighed.
"Damn, I thought Tammy-Lynn told me there were lots of single men in Empire City," she said to herself. "Maybe I came to the wrong place. This seems like the type of club you'd take a date to."
Suddenly, she spotted Sundown, the tan-looking man sitting alone at the bar, wearing a white sleeveless shirt and matching cowboy hat – both with a single brown felt stripe, she noticed – with brown jeans and cowboy boots. She noticed some jet-black hair on the back of his head. "Ooh, that one over there looks a little unattached," she said to herself. "I wonder where his lady is." She began to flirt, and saw the bartender tapping his shoulder, telling him to acknowledge her.
Sundown turned and saw Lorna. He saw her smile just a little bit bigger when she noticed the sheriff's badge on his right pectoral. She waved at him. He became nervous, as if he'd heard of that woman before, like she was somehow on the opposite side of the law.
"I reckon I know that lady from somewhere," Sundown whispered. "Ain't that Lorna Waters, that death penalty widow from down in Dallas? I was still Texas Sheriff at the time of that trial. I still can't believe she stood by that husband of hers. I mean, he killed fifteen people, an' it never fazed her? Oh, an' the way she went psycho after his execution? So glad I never stuck around in Texas after that! What did she reckon was gonna happen to start wit?" He looked at her and shuddered, then quickly turned back around.
Lorna wasn't happy with that response. "Oh no," she said. "No man as handsome as you is gonna turn yer back on me so quickly." Just then, a waiter approached her table for her order. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry we took so long," she said.
"Actually, I'm just going up to the bar," she said. As she walked she said to herself, "Just smile an' be perky, Lorna. He'll warm up to you."
She sat down next to Sundown and said, "Well, hello. Aren't you just the most handsome man to cross the concrete jungle?"
He sighed and said, "Look, ma'am, I have a pretty good idea who ya are. You're Lorna Waters, widow of Stuart Waters, the anti-conservative who was executed for the murders of fifteen parents."
"An' you must be one of those lawman types," she replied. "I noticed that badge you've got. Look, I'm trying to put my past behind me. Please don't hold the trial or the execution against me."
"Another scotch an' Coke for ya?" the bartender asked Sundown.
"Better make it straight soda," Sundown ordered. "I wanna be able to drive home."
"An' I'll have a Diet Coke, if you have any," Lorna ordered. She then turned to Sundown, "So I think maybe you can guess what brought me to Empire City."
"You mean that trial of yer own," Sundown said, "where ya assaulted the survivin' family members of the folks yer husband killed?"
"You got that from the media, didn't ya?" Lorna sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. "Seems like everybody in this town knows me. You know, I've only been living here for three-an'-a-half months, an' no matter how much I update my résumé and cover letter, I still can't find a job. I wish I hadn't beaten those poor people wit Stuart's rifle. All I ever wanted was for them to stop harassing me about him an' my family. Stuart may be disagreeable when it came to certain people, but he was a wonderful husband to me, an' a wonderful father to our two sons."
Sundown looked a little interested in her now. "What're their names? An' how old are they?"
"Bobby's thirteen an' Riley's ten," she answered. "An' they still miss their father so much. When Stuart was around, they were so well-behaved, you'd think twice before you took a paddle to them. But since he died, they've been depressed, distant from others, an' prone to lashing out. But they've never been violent, not since they've been counseled at their last school in Dallas." She drank some of her cola, then stared at Sundown for a few more moments.
"By the way, you never told me your name," she said.
Sundown smiled and said, "The name's Calhoun. Walker Calhoun. But I'd like it if ya called me by my code name, Sundown."
Lorna looked confused. "I'm sorry, code name? Who on earth would give you a code name?"
Sundown gulped a bit of his cola. "I guess maybe I should tell ya a lil' more about me," he said. "See, I used to be Texas Sheriff, workin' in the city of Houston, up 'til around a coupla years ago, when I was approached by a P.J. O'Malley, we call him Longarm. He an' our leader, we call him Bulletproof, they learned 'bout my performances on my watches, an' all the cases I took care of, an' Longarm invited me to be part of this team of police specialists, C.O.P.S. I was more than happy to accept. That code name Sundown was assigned to me by Bulletproof himself."
"That's really interesting," Lorna said.
Just then, the next song played, and everybody went to the dance floor for two stepping and line dancing. Lorna shook her head at the line dancers. "Lord, but who does that anymore?" she asked. "I thought that went out with the 1990's."
She turned back to Sundown. "So, I think I may have heard of your little team before," she said. "An' your name sounds familiar. Weren't you the one that shot some man to death in a parking lot?"
"Yeah," he replied. "His name was Tom Boston. I fell in love wit his ex-wife, Valerie, when she first came here. An' just last weekend, she made a final decision an' chose one of the others, Barricade."
"Wait a minute, how many others were there?" she asked.
"Four. Barricade, Mace, Bowzer an' Highway. An' Bowzer was gone long ago, an' she had already eliminated Mace an' Highway when we asked fer her decision. I was in the top two, dammit! I was so close to gittin' her!" Sundown pounded on her bar four times, working himself up, then started sobbing. Lorna rubbed his upper back.
"Spare me the reason why this Valerie woman picked one of your team members, and threw you away like garbage," she said. She brought his head up and made him look in her eyes. "You are one of the handsomest available men ever in this whole place. An' when I see no one else an' no wedding ring. An' someone who knows the law, too; you'd be the perfect one to run to for security an' safety. Men like you don't deserve to be lonely. An' I sure don't deserve to keep living as a widow, leaving my children fatherless. If you ask me, I think our fates have brought us together tonight."
He touched her cheeks and hair lightly. "Ev'rythin' you've said is true. I do have a capability and need to love. An' even though I wonder what my colleagues will reckon 'bout us bein' together, you've just convinced me that you deserve this like I do."
He got down from the bar, and took her down with him. Then he removed his hat, wrapped his arms her, kissed her lips as he ran his fingers through her hair. When they broke, she stared at him for a few moments.
"Oh, Sundown," she whispered, "I always knew you cowboys can be so romantic. But I'll bet you still think of me as some psychotic death penalty widow who'll scare you off when I inevitably go too far again."
He shook his head. "Nah, I don't reckon you're psychotic, or crazy. If ya ever were, them maybe I cured you of that. And maybe you need more security, too." With that, he kissed her lips again.
She broke from him and asked, "You've been watching too many romance movies, haven't you?"
Instead of answering, Sundown went back to the bar for their drinks, and gave Lorna hers. The fast song was over by the time they finished, then they heard a slow melody of guitar, drum and harmonica. They looked at all the couples on the dance floor, who suddenly went from dancing fast to slow. Sundown smiled and held out his hand for Lorna to take.
"May I have this dance, my lady?" he asked. Lorna took his hand, and they joined the others.
They danced slow for the whole song, and the next two that played, then spent most of the night dancing, going back to the tables to break for one song, making small, romantic talk, drinking soda. Certain things were clear, though – Sundown had fallen in love again, and Lorna felt like she was recovering already.
They stayed at the country until close to midnight, then when they left, knew they had to part their separate ways. "I brought my car," she said. "I assume you have your own vehicle, too."
"I do," he said. He pulled a pad of paper out of his pocket and wrote something down to give to her. "Here's my number fer ya. Why don't ya call me sometime?"
"I'd love to," she replied, then excused herself. Moments later, she came back with a piece of paper for him.
"How about you give me a call, cowboy?" she grinned. "I'll be waiting." She waved good-bye as she went back to her car.
He looked at the paper with her name and phone number, and put it in his pants pocket. He tried to concentrate as he drove back to his apartment. He would think of Lorna Waters when he got home.
Meanwhile, Cheryl had just left the Golden Gate movie theater with her kids. She said, "What say we stop for ice cream on the way home?" Danielle smiled and the boys cheered. Brett said, "Let's go, Mom."
Cheryl and Danielle, and Brett and Jacob both saw different movies, so in the car, Cheryl said to the boys, "So, why don't you tell me about the movie you boys saw?"
"Mom, it was awesome," Jacob replied. "There was a man around late thirties, who hasn't retraced the route of Lewis and Clark yet, like tradition in his family dictates he should, even though all his brothers have. His father is this really old man who wants to know that he has done this before he dies. It starts just as the summer begins, and this man gets laid off from his job, so he sees this as the perfect opportunity to do so.
"This man has two boys of his own, around Brett's and my ages, as well as a sixteen- year-old nephew whose father did the Lewis and Clark thing when he was twenty-two years old. Of course, he thinks this would be the best thing for them to do with them, so he insists they come along with him. The really funny parts are when the younger kid is cranky and bored, especially when they stop at all the campsites. Ugh, I'm not much for camping either. It's very funny and heartwarming for a family movie."
"I'll bet if we lived in Missouri, that'd be something we could've done with Dad," Brett said.
They arrived at the nearest Dairy Queen when Jacob was through talking. When they got inside, ordered their ice cream and sat down, Danielle said, "Well, our movie wouldn't be something you'd be interested in, really. It had a group of ninja brothers in it, who were all wrongfully accused by this awful media personality of crimes they didn't commit, and are made outcasts and huge public enemies in the city. Before you get all excited, let me tell you that one of the younger ones is a fickle for love, and falls deeply in love with the young, headstrong daughter of the city's mayor. A star-crossed romance which her family fights about, but his approves, and they carry it on until they get caught. So the chick OD's on pills, and they think she's dead, and her distraught lover steals one of his brother's weapons on the morning of her funeral, then uses it mostly on himself before struggling that last little bit on her. Most unoriginal thing I've ever seen in my life."
Jacob made a gruesome face. "Eww!" he said. "Making a love story out of a movie about a group of ninja heroes?"
"And ripping script from Shakespeare at that," Danielle replied. "That wasn't a movie, that was a rip-off of Romeo and Juliet."
Suddenly, she spotted Mace coming into the restaurant. He was out of his uniform except for his cap and boots, wearing a black leather jacket and navy denims. She watched him order something at the counter, and nudged at her mother. "And speaking of a potential Romeo," she said, "check out that guy at the counter."
Mace turned when he received his order, and approached the side where the family was. Cheryl studied his face and immediately declared, "He's too old for you, Dani."
Danielle rolled her eyes. "Of course he wouldn't be for me, Mom. I meant for you."
Mace sat down across from them, and overheard Cheryl say, "Danielle, I thought I made it clear that I intended to find a police officer to date. Look at him, his clothes. Leather jacket, turtleneck and blue jeans. That doesn't look like a police uniform to me."
"Actually, ma'am," Mace said to her, "I am an actual police officer. In fact, I'm a member of the SWAT team. I've just got off duty fer the day."
The kids were smirking at their mother, Danielle face especially reading, "I told you so" to her. Cheryl looked quite embarrassed. "Oh, pardon my misjudgments," she told him. It's just that you're out of uniform, and you don't look like the type to be a plainclothes detective and wear something like that. Uh, would you like to sit with us?"
"Sure thing," Mace said, and Cheryl had Danielle sit with her brothers while she moved over for Mace.
She said, "Uh, my name's Cheryl. Cheryl Raleigh." She pointed at her kids. "These are my children; Danielle, she's sixteen; Jacob; he just turned thirteen last month; and Brett, who's eleven."
"Hi," all three kids chorused.
"The name is Colt Howards," Mace replied, "but everyone calls me Mace. I belong to this special crime-fighting organization, C.O.P.S. Central Organization of Police Specialists."
Cheryl thought about it, then shook her head. "Never heard of it," she said.
Mace looked somewhat discouraged. "Well, we're a group of officers with special talents very vital to police work. Like I told ya, I'm a member of SWAT. We were brought together about two years back, 'cuz the regular Empire City police force needed major help in takin' down the Big Boss an' his crooked gang." He explained the C.O.P.S.' latest case that involved Big Boss recruiting children into gangs, they'd worked on through most of the spring and summer.
It sounded quite familiar to Danielle, who immediately recalled an incident. "You know," she said, "I may have heard of this Big Boss character. Something like that happened to me, sort of. Shortly after we moved here, I went down to this donut and coffee shop to apply for a part-time job, and this tall, ugly blonde woman – reminded me of the Amazon Queen – she came in harassing some of the other teens who were working there, even some who were just there hanging out. I didn't see if she took anyone, because the owner quickly took me into the back and hid me. He explained this whole recruitment thing to me, and wouldn't even let me talk to police. Do you remember me telling you this, Mom?"
"You told me how frightened you were," Cheryl said.
Mace looked at the kids and repeated, "Tall, ugly, blonde woman? Danielle, yer talkin' about Ms. Demeanor. She's one of Big Boss' roughest henchmen – henchwoman! This may make ya laugh, boys, but this is a woman who's awfully strong an' muscular. Thankfully, she ain't as beefy as I am."
Jacob and Brett just stared at him, totally speechless.
"Forgive me for sounding ignorant, Mace," Cheryl said, "but I wouldn't know about any of this. I don't keep up with the news, at least nothing that has anything to do with police affairs. I haven't really been able to since my husband died a year ago. He was a police officer, too." She tried to keep from getting emotional as she talked about the restaurant shooting that Wayne was killed in. This only made the kids eat their ice cream faster.
"I hadn't been in any small fast food restaurant in Pittsburgh since then," she said. "I'd only regained the courage to set foot in a McDonald's restaurant just after we settled down here. And it'll take a lot for me to set foot into another Submarine World franchise."
Mace looked sympathetic for her and her children. "Cheryl, kids, I'm so sorry for yer husband an' father," he said. "He was a cop, an' that's all it takes fer him to be a good man, in my humble opinion."
Cheryl looked down at his hands and noticed no wedding band. "Um, this may sound personal, but you're not seeing anyone right now, are you, Mace?"
"Nope," he said. "I had a couple of girlfriends in the past, but they're both long gone now."
Danielle, Jacob and Brett were nodding towards their mother in encouragement. She retrieved a pen from her purse and wrote her phone number on a napkin. "Here," she said. "If you're not too busy over the next week, maybe you can give me a call. I'd love to go bowling, or to the movies with you."
"Thanks," he said. He got up to put it in his front pocket. "So, what kind of movies do ya like?"
"Mostly romance and dramas," she answered. She told of the movie she'd just come out of seeing with Danielle. The daughter rolled her eyes.
"You don't want to see it, Mace," she said. "Whoever pitched that idea obviously had no original thought. It sucked majorly."
"Danielle, you know I don't approve of that word," Cheryl lectured. "And besides the movies and bowling I suggested, I also like to go out dancing."
Mace began to think of Valerie, and the times she went dancing with him at the nightclubs. But he tried to suppress these thoughts. No, not here, not now, he thought. Save it for when you know it'll be serious. Instead, he just said, "I did those things with my last girlfriend, too."
A few minutes later, Cheryl finished her coffee, and all their ice cream was eaten. All five of them got up and prepared to leave. Cheryl said, "It's been nice meeting you, Mace. I hope you'll call me sometime. I'd like to get to know you better."
"Me too," he agreed. "I'll see you and maybe the kids around sometime. See you everyone."
"I'll see you too," she said. "Goodbye for now."
"Bye, Mace," the kids chorused.
On their way to the car, Cheryl said to her daughter, "Danielle, thank you so much for fixing me up with him. You'll get an extra half-hour on your curfew for this."
"Mom, I've just been so busy at work lately," Janice said the next afternoon. "In the past three months, I have written up contracts for two first-time novelists, after reading both their novels, and accepting them to submit to publishers. However, with this latest one I've got, the query letter was okay, but the manuscript was something else entirely."
She was in her suburban home the next afternoon, having coffee with her mother, Phyllis McConnell. Upon her move to Empire City, Janice was immediately recruited by her sister, Pam Gowan, a fellow literary agent, to work at the Webster and Gowan Literary Agency. She was also renting an apartment until she could find suitable housing. Now, Janice was debating with her mother about when she was going to get another boyfriend.
"Besides, Pam advised me that I need to be by myself for a while until I establish my independence," she continued. "You know, so I don't get needy for a man. And I hope you don't get mad, but I don't think I could ever date another policeman."
"I disagree with both statements, especially the latter one," Phyllis said. "Cliff may have not been the ideal partner for you, or father for Regan, but he shouldn't have to go so long without a father. He's ten years old, Janice. If I could tell you the outcome of a boy his age who doesn't have a father figure in his life, it would make you cry. Besides, you know what our family tradition dictates. Just like Cliff's family, you either become a law officer, or you marry one."
Janice looked very skeptical; she'd doubted a cop's ability to love throughout her whole divorce. Phyllis held her hand. "You really ought to take a look at your brothers, and most of your sister's husbands," the mother told her. "They are living proof that an officer of the law is capable of love, caring and understanding. Not all police officers, current or aspiring, take this line of work because they have issues and want authority, desperate to prove something. That's a horrible stereotype. You gather up a group of non-corrupt officers, and ask them why they chose this line of work. They will tell you they have the community's best interests at heart, they want to help protect the innocent, and they want to teach or youth how to be a law-abiding citizen. And they also want to give their children a model to look up to as a parent. That is something Regan should have."
"You're right, Mom," Janice said. "But where are they? Which precinct should I go to?"
"Well, have you ever heard of the Central Organization of Police Specialists?" Phyllis asked. "You must have. I'm sure your brothers have told you about their capers when you've called them just to talk."
"I hear about that team about five times a week or so," Janice said. "It's either through the news or word of mouth. Seems every time I talk to brothers Jeff, Trevor or Mark, it's to tell me about Bulletproof and his men and women. Thank God Pam and Becky don't tell me anything about them. It's as if some of our own work at Precinct 647. It gets irritating, Mom. And I got all the names of this Big Boss character and his little minions; there on my list of men to avoid."
"The C.O.P.S. may have a tough exterior on duty in their crime-fighting, but they know some things about caring for the interests of other people," Phyllis informed her. "And last time I spoke with Jeff, he told me some interesting gossip about them."
Janice folded her arms, looking unimpressed. She was never the type of woman to be interested in gossip. "Oh, really?" she asked.
"Yes." Phyllis drank more coffee. "A group of them just became single again after this one woman chose their colleague for a long-term relationship."
"You mean Valerie Boston?" Janice asked. "I saw that Eye on Empire City interview that Jeff said I had to watch. I thought that woman was a pure slut. Who the hell dates four men at the same time, never mind the fact they were all law officers?"
She finished her coffee and left the table. "But if you think someone on the C.O.P.S. team might be good for me, then I'll take your advice. Can you watch Regan for a few hours?"
"You know I'd love to," Phyllis answered.
She went to her son, Regan, who was finishing up his Math homework at the dining table. "I'm just going to go out for a few hours," she told him. "Be good for Grandma and finish your homework, okay?" She kissed the top of his head and left.
She decided to bring back some donuts, so Regan could have dessert with dinner tonight. She went to another borough of the city, to a donut shop called Sweet Marie's. When she went inside, she saw a man with hair the color of chocolate standing alone at a cash register. He was carrying a motorcycle helmet with visors in one arm, and was dressed in a standard state patrol uniform. Janice could see the right side of his face as he waited for his order, and thought he looked familiar, like he was on television.
It was C.O.P.S. Patrolman David "Highway" Harlson. Janice certainly thought he looked handsomely gorgeous. She approached him with some confidence and smiled at him.
"Hey, I know about you," she said. "Aren't you Highway Harlson from that C.O.P.S. team? My family is a bunch of law enforcers from around here. They talk about you guys all the time."
"Is that so?" Highway replied. "And you are…"
"Janice Dalhousie," she replied.
Soon, Highway's order, a variety pack of twenty donuts arrived. Janice smiled and asked, "Those for the C.O.P.S. headquarters?"
"Uh-huh," he replied, then took some extra money from his wallet. "So, uh, Janice, what would you like to order? It's on me."
"You're so sweet, Highway, thank you," she cooed, then turned to the cashier. "Two chocolate fudge donuts to go, and maybe I'll have a blueberry muffin and hot chocolate for here."
"And I'll have a Boston crème for here," Highway ordered.
They found two vacant tables together, and put their orders to go on one of them, sat down at the other. Janice was flirting with Highway a bit as she said, "So, Highway, tell me a little more about yourself."
He cleared his throat and said, "Well, first of all, Highway is a code name given to me when I first joined C.O.P.S. My real name is David."
"David," she repeated. "That's a cute name." She buttered her muffin and took a bite.
Highway blushed a little. "Yeah, well, before I was invited to join C.O.P.S. as a highway patrolman, I'd spent my whole law enforcement career doing just that, in the state of California."
"California?" Janice repeated again. "I just moved here from California four months ago."
"San Francisco?"
"Los Angeles."
Highway looked to be preoccupied by thought. "Hmm, there's not much to tell about me, career-wise," he said. "You already know quite a bit about the C.O.P.S. and what we do. I guess that last thing you should know is that I drive a special motorbike that goes really fast, called the Bluestreak. You've never seen it, have you?"
"No," Janice said. She swallowed another bite of muffin. "But I do remember seeing you on that primetime show, Eye on Empire City, with that woman, Valerie Boston, and three of your colleagues; Sundown, Barricade and Mace. And here you are at that register alone. Where's Valerie?"
Highway sighed and answered, "Romantically, she's out of my life. We all asked for her final decision, and she picked Barricade. Oh, well. I never could impress her family, so I guess it was never meant to be."
Janice was amused to hear that Highway was still available. She took his hand and said, "You know, I'm available, too. I just got a divorce, finalized before I moved here. I have three sons, but I only have custody of one, my youngest, Regan. The other two, Roderick and Rydell, are still living in California with my ex-husband, their father, Cliff. Also, I'm a literary agent, as is my sister, Pam. She co-owns an agency here, and recruited me to work with her when I came here."
"That's great," Highway said. Then, "Uh, how come you're caring for one son, and you left the other two behind where you used to live?"
"That was left up to the divorce judge," Janice answered. "See, Cliff is a police officer, just like you and your C.O.P.S. buddies, as well as my father and paternal uncles, my brothers and one sister, and all the rest of my sisters' husbands, and the same is with Cliff. It's a big tradition in both our families, as you can tell. Rod and Rydell were eager to follow it and become cops themselves. Regan, however, has lived with cerebral palsy since birth, and no way can he be like the rest of the family. Unfortunately, only mine could understand this."
She told Highway about how she encouraged Regan to be a writer, the abuse he suffered from his father because of this, and all the fights Cliff and Janice would have over him, how Cliff and his family could never be persuaded. "My God, even the police chief could understand that Regan couldn't be a cop, for fuck's sake!" she complained. "But, no, it had to be the Dalhousie man's way or no way. Assholes, that's what they are!" She ate more of her muffin and guzzled her hot chocolate to console herself.
Then, Highway looked at his watch and gasped. "Oh, no!" he cried. "Look at the time! Bulletproof will be looking for me!" He retrieved his box of donuts. "Listen, Janice, it's been nice meeting you, but I have to get going. Thank God I have a fast motorbike."
"Wait!" Janice said. "At least let me give you my number so we can talk later." Highway pulled out his traffic ticket pad and ripped off a sheet.
"It's 717-5361," she said. "Why don't you give me a call in the next couple of days?"
"I'd love to," he replied, then kissed her cheek. "Talk to you later." He rushed out of the shop.
Janice sat back down to finish her muffin. Her hot chocolate, she decided to take in her car with her donuts. She was smiling brightly. She couldn't wait to tell her mother and son of the new love she found.
Meanwhile, at Empire City Park, Debra and her daughters were jogging through the pathways. Stephanie was able to keep up with her mother, but they would look back once in a while to see Emma a few feet behind.
"Pick up the pace, Emma!" Stephanie called. "Be faster! This is a power run for exercise."
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" her sister said. "I'm not as tall or athletic as you, Stephanie!"
Debra and Stephanie ran past a part where another path crossed three-way, and were at least twenty feet away when they heard a dog barking and Emma screaming. Emma ran a little faster this time, and screamed, "Help! I'm being chased by a big robot dog." They saw a cybernetic canine with a police siren on his back running after her. Emma ran to the nearest tree, trying to climb it, but she couldn't. She tried to hide behind it, but the dog found her and kept barking at her.
Debra and Stephanie nearly jumped when a man next to them yelled at his dog, "Blitz! Heel! Come here!" The dog obediently came to his master.
Debra stared at the dog owner. The man had dark brown hair, brown eyes and a thick black mustache. He wore a red track suit with white runners. "Good heavens, man, you didn't need to yell like that!" she criticized. "My daughter and I are right here! We could've gone deaf!"
He looked at them and gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am. It's just that Blitz here is very partial to runners."
"He's very cool-looking," Stephanie said.
Emma peeked from behind the tree to see her chaser far away from her. But when Blitz saw her coming back, he immediately ran up to her again, barking. She looked frightened again.
"But, unfortunately, he scares my little sister," Stephanie continued.
"I think he likes her," the man said. "Look at him hopping around her. I think he just wants to play."
Debra saw this as a sign, and smiled and said to him, "My name is Debra. Debra Janeway. This is my older daughter, Stephanie, and the one that Blitz is interested in is my younger daughter, Emma."
"Rex Pointer," the man replied. "I'm a K-9 officer, originally from Chicago. But at the precinct here where I work, everyone calls me Bowzer."
"Oh, is that some kind of code name?" Stephanie guessed. "That's also cool!"
"I got it when I was named the K-9 handler with C.O.P.S.," he said, and explained his work with the headquarters.
Debra smiled and replied, "Well, look at what we have in common, uh, Bowzer. My girls and I moved here from Chicago just this summer, and my husband was a K-9 officer as well. Officer Keith Janeway. Do you remember working with him?"
Bowzer shook his head. "Nope, never met him," he answered. "I think I was in a different precinct."
"Keith was a wonderful man," she said. "We had a German Shepherd named Dodger, he called him his little assistant." She lowered her head a bit. "Both of them were killed by some drug-obsessed punks almost a year ago. In fact, I think the first anniversary is less than a month away."
"Now that I think about it," Bowzer said, "I think I was at his funeral." He rubbed Debra's back. "Debra, I'm so sorry for what happened."
"Oh, but you should've seen the girls," Debra told him. "Never mind their father, they were even more upset when I told them Dodger was killed. Stephanie especially; she was the one that went jogging with him all the time."
He looked at her and the girls. All he could do was hug them all as a group.
Bowzer then decided to take Blitz and run with Debra, Stephanie and Emma. Debra said, "I want to know a little more about you, Bowzer. Do you always go running here in the park on your time off? You should; it's so beautiful here? And do you have a girlfriend?"
"Not all the time," Bowzer said. "There's also this trial on the outskirts of town that Blitz likes to go to. I only come here at times like this, when the fall colors are plentiful. And I don't have a girlfriend either, though I did date quite a bit. My last girlfriend had to break up with me, and it actually jeopardized my law enforcement career."
"What?" Debra said. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm currently on a month's paid suspension by judge's orders when I was accused of sexually assaulting her."
Debra didn't have to think about it; hearing about sexual assault immediately turned her off. "Okay," she said, then gathered her daughters up. "It was nice meeting you, Bowzer." She started ahead of him, but he frantically grabbed her arm.
"Wait!" he cried, and they stopped running. "Debra, please! Just give me a chance to explain."
Debra turned to Stephanie and said, "Stephanie, take Emma and run straight ahead of us. Stop and wait when you get to the end and see a crossing." She nodded and took her sister's hand.
"Now," Debra said to Bowzer, "explain this business about sexually assaulting your last girlfriend."
"Her name was Valerie," he replied. "Valerie Boston. I was one of five members of my C.O.P.S. team that she was dating these past few months. I was the one who got the least attention of them all, saw her the least, and before the alleged assault, I think I may have slept with her only once."
He spent close to an hour telling of his colleagues' boastings of their achievements, Blitz's attack on Jeremy Boston, how despairing he got after Valerie's threesome date with Sundown and Highway, what happened when he brought her to his house, all the confrontations at C.O.P.S. headquarters, and the inquiry with the main chief Stephen Irons.
"And it all led up to this," he concluded. "I go back to work on the twenty-ninth of this month, but it's only during the week. When I get back to work, I have to devote weekends to community service until I've served one hundred fifty hours. Then, my life will be back to normal."
Debra was disgusted. "Are you telling me you went through all this shit because you kept getting shafted by a cop-chasing slut?!" she demanded. "Oh, I can't wait to meet this Valerie Boston woman! I don't care how beautiful she is, you deserve better!" She was batting her eyes and being flirtatious for a few moments, touching his cheek lightly."
"I think I see where this is going," Bowzer said, then he and Blitz started running again. "Come on, we have to find your girls." They ran two miles to the end of the path, where they found a three-way crossing. There they found Stephanie and Emma sitting on the grass, and the girls stood up when they saw them.
"About time you guys showed up!" Stephanie said. "Shall we go left or right?" They looked both ways, the left way seemed longer, so they ran in that direction.
That night, just after the children went to bed, Marilyn's phone rang. She was in her living room; though she had three phones with the standard video screen attached, her living room phone was what she answered most often because it had a caller ID device attached. The caller ID read H. Forward. She answered and saw Bullseye's image on the screen.
"Bullseye, hello," she said. "What's up?"
"I just returned from another afternoon/evening shift," Bullseye answered, "and I thought I'd try again at calling you. I called you up this morning, and you weren't home. Where were you, church or something?"
"Oh no," she replied. "Some of the people from work invited all the new recruits to a 'getting to know you' breakfast for today two days ago, then all us women went for a Sunday shopping spree. I was gone for about five hours. Justin said you'd called, but when I called back, you didn't answer your phone. I assumed you went to serve another shift; obviously, I was right."
"Yeah, well, I just wanted to know if you were free either Thursday or Friday night to dinner," Bullseye said. "There's a buffet place, Family Choices, that I think your kids would love. I'd love it if I could get the chance to know all of you."
Marilyn touched her throat lightly, feeling as if he'd reached his hand out of the screen to touch her. "Bullseye, I'd love to have dinner with you, and bring my kids. As a matter of fact, I'm free both evenings. Thanks for inviting me. I accept. Will Thursday at five do?" She secretly hoped she'd get an advertising project done by then.
"Of course," he said. "I just hope I can keep that time open."
"Perhaps you can come over a few days before, so I can introduce you to my kids," she suggested.
Bullseye smiled. "I'd love to, Marilyn."
When she hung up, she turned on her TV to find a romantic movie. Something to inspire her. She knew Bullseye was interested enough to call her when he said. She thought of how romantic and charming he might be, too.