Author's Note: As of the completion of this chapter, some strenuous C.O.P.S. news has revealed that the sales of the first DVD box set for this cartoon (in which the first anniversary of the release is coming up) have been so poor, Shout Factory was actually thinking about not releasing the rest of the series. But you as C.O.P.S fans can prevent this travesty. A fan of this show with her own fanart blog (I call her Crazyharp) has set up a petition at gopetition-dot-com requesting that Shout Factory release the rest of the series on DVD. Simply go to that website, click on "Television" in the Entertainment category, and look for the petition called "More C.O.P.S. on DVD." I encourage anyone who is reading this to go there and put your signature on, telling SF you want to see the rest of the series to capture episodes you have never seen and more. I have already signed it, and it gives me the option to send it to up to 10 people, so if you wish, you can leave me a note either in your review, or at my e-mail address (it's in my profile), and I will send the petition to you for signing.
Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own the series or characters from the show, just my OC's and the plot. Also, I claim no ownership or writing credit to the following songs mentioned: Promiscuous, (Nelly Furtado f/ Timbaland) Outside, (George Michael) Black Velveteen (Lenny Kravitz) and No Heaven (DJ Champion) Mojave Street and Dancing Alana, however, are of my own creation as artists we have yet to see on the music scene.… LOL!
Chapter 3
On Monday evening, the phones in Cheryl's house rang. Thinking it was one of her new friends from school, Danielle ran to the kitchen phone screaming, "I got it, I got it! I think it's for me!" She didn't bother checking the caller I.D.; she quickly became disappointed when she saw Mace's image on the video screen.
"Oh… hi, Mace," she said.
"Danielle?" he wondered, then his look turned disapproving. "Well, thanks fer the warm greetin'."
"Sorry," she said. "It's just that Heather Dalby from school, she was supposed to call me when she had her dinner, and I've been sitting here waiting." She sighed. "Look, I suppose you want to speak to Mom, right?" She called for her mother, and when she came, smirked as she gave her the phone.
Cheryl smiled when she saw Mace. "Mace, hi," she said. "I was hoping to hear from you."
"Yeah, well, it's been nuts since yesterday, an' I have another shift to serve back at the precinct soon," Mace explained. "Listen, Cheryl, I just checked my schedule fer this week, an' I'm free this Friday night. I'm thinkin' you an' me can bowl a few games, then we can hit a nightclub fer some dancin'. You up fer it?"
"Love to," she said. "Will seven-thirty be all right for you?" She retrieved her pocket calendar.
"Seven-thirty sounds just fine," he said.
After she wrote it in, Cheryl began to grin at Mace, attempting to be flirtatious. "So," she said, "As long as we're still talking now, I think it's time we tried to develop feelings for one another. Seriously, what were your first impressions of me when you first spoke to me two nights ago?"
"Aw, so ya wanna git into the sweet-talkin', do ya?" he grinned back, winking. "Listen, as much as I'd love to now, how about we save it fer the date?"
Cheryl started picturing the date, especially the club. "Oh, how can we let out how we really feel among the sounds of crashing pins and loud rock and techno music?" she asked. "I'm not saying this is a bad idea, but for us to talk like this requires a more intimate atmosphere. Lights dim, slow jazzy music, that sort of thing. Don't you at least have a day off sometime this week? Maybe you can come over to my house beforehand. I certainly would like to get to know you a bit better."
"So would I," Mace agreed. "I guess I can talk to Bulletproof about this. I'd need a full day off this week, anyway. If I keep workin' whole shifts back-to-back like this, I'm gonna drop dead from exhaustion."
Cheryl laughed at this thought. "A big, tough, muscular man dropping dead from exhaustion," she repeated. "That's an oxymoronic thought."
"Hey, I may have a bundle of energy, but I ain't no Superman."
"I should've known that."
He smiled and said, "Listen, I have to head out. It was nice talkin' to ya, Cheryl. So, I'll see ya Friday night or a couple days before, okay? Love ya."
"I love you too, Mace," she said. "I'll be seeing you."
She hung up and went to the living room. She saw Danielle talking to Jacob in the living room about her and Mace. Danielle said, "I'm serious, Jake. Mom told Mace she wants to get to know him better. If he comes over here, they might just get close enough for some necking."
"Danielle Jocelyn Raleigh!" her mother called. "You know better than to bother your brother and distract him when he's doing his homework! Don't you have some of your own to do, young lady?"
"Checkmate, you got me," she sighed, and returned to reading from her English textbook.
The next day, Lorna was looking through the Help Wanted newspaper ads again. She had been living in a two-bedroom apartment for a few weeks now, yet she could not find any work. She was clipping ads for opportunities to start her own business from home, but wanted one more chance to find something outside of the home. She reflected on her years as a housewife. Maybe either a catering business or a maid service.
She heard the doorbell buzzing sound, then went to the door and called, "Who is it?"
"It's Sundown, my darlin'," came the voice from the hallway. Lorna looked through her peephole to see the same tanned face, curled mustache and cowboy hat she saw at the Cavalier. She opened the door and gasped at the black sport jacket and pants he wore with a white turtleneck. In his left hand, he held a single red rose.
"Oh, good heavens," she breathed. "Sundown, you're even more handsome than you were at the club Saturday night." She took his offering. "Are you sure you're a Texas Sheriff, or are you really a cover model for those sophisticated men's magazines that Jackson's always subscribing to?"
Sundown laughed as Lorna took him inside. "Of course I used to be a Texas Sheriff," he reminded her. "I just like to dress up a bit fer a lady, that's all." He kissed her lightly on her mouth.
She looked at the clock above her dining table. It was close three o'clock. She asked, "What brings you here at this time of day? Don't you have a shift to serve? Or maybe you have a graveyard shift tonight, or are you off for the day?"
"I do have the day off shift today," Sundown replied. "But I hafta be up bright an' early tomorrow mornin'. I reckoned maybe I'd spend all this evenin' wit you an' yer boys."
"That's very thoughtful of you," Lorna replied. "The rose, too. Thank you."
He noticed the newspaper on the living room coffee table. He looked at the job opportunities that Lorna had circled; a hotel chambermaid at three major hotels, a waitress at Toretti Family Pizza, a cashier at a department store at a nearby mall. She had also circled an ad asking for landscapers, which Sundown wondered about.
"What, landscapin'?" he asked. "Sweetheart, how long have you been mowin' lawns and pullin' up weeds?"
"I know it sounds crazy, don't it?" Lorna agreed as she added the water to two cups of instant coffee. "It was Stuart that took care of all the yard work before he was apprehended for serial murder. Since then, I'd been the one mowing the lawn, and I had the boys raking it afterwards."
"An' how old are the boys again?"
"Bobby's thirteen and Riley's ten." Lorna served the coffee, and before Sundown could ask, she said, "Some years ago, when Bobby was four, there was this news story about a twelve-year-old who mangled one of his feet when it accidentally got caught in the family's lawn mower. All the toes were cut off. I worry about the boys quite a bit, so Stuart and I agreed that they were never allowed the mow the lawn. I wouldn't want that happening to either one of them."
Sundown looked up at the wall unit. Just above the television were various pictures of the Waters family. He approached them to look at them all. There was a picture of Stuart and Lorna posed with their party on their wedding day, a five-by-seven photograph of the Waters family; when Bobby was a toddler and Riley was still an infant, the boys' school pictures from the year before, and a picture of a shirtless Stuart posing with the boys on their home driveway; with a flashy sports car in the background.
"You honestly reckoned Stuart Waters was a good man, didn't you, Lorna?" Sundown asked.
"Oh, Sundown, I could sing of his love forever," she gushed. "He was especially so kindly with the boys, and I know you may think it's bunk, but that's how the boys were so well-behaved. Of course, they were never known to just sit in front of the TV when he was home. Some members of my family went so far as to say they were too well-behaved. Anyway, if he was outside doing something, washing his car, cleaning out the garage, even preparing to go running when they could, they always wanted to do it with him. However, Stuart would never be wearing a shirt when he washed the car, so what the boys and even I did, we would try to sneak the water hose out of his hands, let him chase us to get it back, then we'd spray him to see how soaked we'd git him. It looked so funny, and Stuart would look so cute after."
He sat back down with her and held both her hands. "An' those feelin's never went away when he was found guilty of all those murders?"
She shook her head rapidly, feeling as if she may get emotional, and took a drink of her coffee. "No, how could they? Stuart was a loving, caring, gentle soul. All those pro-spanking advocates he killed, they just looked at us and thought we were doing all sorts of things wrong. Some even told us this, that we were ruining our children. I mean, just because you don't paddle yer children fer every little mistake, it don't make you a bad parent. They were just too ignorant to see that."
He held her to keep her from crying. "I can see what yer sayin', my dear," he said softly. "It's just like those neighborhoods I regularly got calls from when I just a young buck lawman. Domestic violence an' child abuse reports, an' the situations were just ugly. Parents who'd do nothing but drink, all the while screamin' at their kids. An' if they don't beat 'em senseless or injure 'em somehow 'til they're cryin', they're hurlin' their bottles at the wall, narrowly missin' 'em. I tell these folks they shouldn't be doin' that, an' they just sneer at me, and tell me I shouldn't talk, 'cuz I don't have kids of my own. It's ridiculous."
Lorna became even more interested than before. "You don't have kids of your own?" she repeated. She touched the back of his hand. "Well, I think you'd be a wonderful father."
"Yeah, I reckon I would. Though I've never dated much before, y'know, Valerie." He'd remembered the summer vacation he had with Valerie's son, Jeremy, and suddenly felt a little sad again. He knew he'd still have that bond if only she'd chosen him.
She touched his face so he could look at her. "You're just gonna love Bobby an' Riley," she told him. "I guarantee it. They're smart an' attentive, an' if you could bond with them, perhaps you can help them be happy enough to be perfectly well-behaved."
Sundown looked at her funny. "I reckoned you said they'd improved their behavior after some school counselin'."
"Yeah, well, they still have some way to go, the way I see it." Lorna took another drink of her coffee. "We'd been living with my cousin Tammy-Lynn all summer, before she found us this apartment. It ain't much, but at least the boys are enjoying sharing a room." She coughed a little bit. "Anyway, Tammy's just gotten divorced, and though she has a son of her own, there's no man in the picture. My other cousin, Jackson, he's popped over on some Saturdays with his boys, if not for us, then it's chiefly to spend time with the boys. He's got a job that keeps him twelve hours a day, an' with a wife an' four children, there's not much room in that house for the three of us."
She opened the sliding glass doors, and stepped onto the balcony, staring at the fall afternoon view of the city. "It may also have something to do with the fact that they had to leave behind close family members back in Texas. I have three brothers who still live in Austin an' Houston. Every other weekend since Stuart was gone, I would ship the boys off to one of them, just so they aren't lacking a father figure. Of course, that was when school was in session. That first spring break after Stuart was incarcerated, I sent Bobby an' Riley off to spend it with my brother, Travis; he's the one from Austin. Summer vacations were spent in Houston, divided between my other brothers, Steve an' Kirby. They never would tell me their system, but I always believed it was one month with one brother, one with the other. That would be easier. An' once in a while, my father would stop by to take them fishing." She looked to see Sundown joining her on the balcony. "I know they miss them all terribly, an' their families, aunts an' cousins, an' it's all because we were exiled from Texas, destined to never go back."
Sundown began to have some silent thoughts. Perhaps if a real Texan sheriff like him were to marry Lorna, it might give her and her sons a pardon for return, on the condition that he accompany them every visit.
"Lorna," he said, "y'know I'd love to serve as a father figure fer Bobby an' Riley. After all, I had a special bondin' wit a lil' boy m'self. His name was Jeremy. You remember me talkin' 'bout Valerie Saturday night at the Cavalier? Jeremy's her boy." He turned her head towards his face. "I take it yer boys are still at school?"
"For another hour or so," she replied.
They sat at the coffee table again. Sundown decided to tell Lorna about his relationships with Valerie and Jeremy. He told her about the police picnic in which he and the other C.O.P.S. met both of them, the abuse that both mother and son suffered at Tom Boston's hands, Valerie's career accomplishments, Jeremy's syndrome, and how beautiful and special they both were.
"You oughta meet Valerie," he told her. "I swear, I reckoned she was the most beautiful woman to ever wander into a man's life. Long, silky blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, legs that stretched all the way to heaven, an' a body so beautiful, you'd wanna take her ev'ry time ya saw her. An' I loved her son so much. Sure, you might reckon he's a bit much, but it was all due to that syndrome he had. Much of the bad behavior couldn't be helped. All he ever wanted an' needed was that special kind of love that'd make other kids spoiled."
He told her all about their summer vacation in Texas and Arizona, the highlights at the Alamo and the Grand Canyon. "An' you should've seen Jeremy at the Canyon. It was as if that was his wish for that Make-A-Wish Foundation. He loved it. An' he loved me fer takin' him there."
But Lorna looked a little confused. "Okay, this Valerie has a successful career in advertising, an' she has an infirm son," she said. "Who was looking after the boy all this time, taking him to the doctor an' all that stuff?"
"Danged if I know who did it back in Parrish," Sundown answered, "but she has her sister, Karen, here in Empire City. Why d'ya ask?"
"'Cuz I would argue that she should've quit her job an' be a full-time mother," Lorna replied quickly. "Especially a kid like a Shaken Baby Syndrome survivor needs 'round-the-clock care. I know her husband wasn't the affectionate type, but she could at least try to change him."
She then thought back to her father's words about divorce, about how physical abuse was one of the few acceptable reasons to do so. "On second thought, maybe she did the right thing, if she couldn't change this Tom. But my opinion on her staying at home with him still stands. She should've at least thought of starting her own online advertising firm. If you could introduce me to her, I'll talk to her about it."
Sundown looked at Lorna's chosen job opportunities again. He thought back to Saturday night. He said, "Lorna, didn't ya say somethin' 'bout how you've been here since summer, an' can't find a job anywhere?"
"How thoughtful, you think I should work from home," Lorna guessed. "Actually, Tammy-Lynn thinks I should do something that will get me out of the home during the day. The only problem, whenever I send out my résumé with my cover letter describing my capabilities, I either don't hear from them, or I get a call from the hiring manager with some lame excuse as to why he's rejecting me immediately. I was saying this to both Tammy an' Jackson when they were at the house on Labor Day weekend. Jackson actually thinks that maybe I should start a home based business, but Tammy was adamant with her thoughts. She argued that I'd been a housewife fer twelve years, and it's time for me to see what life's like outside the home."
She took out various ingredients to prepare for dinner. The stewing beef she had put in water had almost thawed. "Bobby an' Riley should be home soon," she said. "I'll start dinner when they get here."
At just quarter after four, she heard Bobby and Riley coming in. Just after they'd hung their jackets up, they saw Sundown getting up to approach them, smiling. Lorna noticed very confusing looks on the boys.
Bobby pointed at the sheriff and asked, "Uh, Ma, who's that supposed to be?"
She looked cheerful as she approached the boys. "Boys," she said, "I'd like you to meet Walker Calhoun, but he prefers it if you call him Sundown." She turned to Sundown. "Sundown, these are my sons, Bobby an' Riley."
The sheriff smiled at them and said, "Howdy, boys."
"Hi, uh, Sundown," Bobby replied nervously.
"Sundown?" Riley repeated. "What kind of name is that?"
"He belongs to the Central Organization of Police Specialists, dear, here in town," Lorna answered. "Remember two days ago, when you pressed me fer details about the night before, an' I told you that I finally met a really handsome man at a country club an' fell in love? That's him." She glanced at her new beau and excused herself, escorting her sons to the bathroom.
"Now, boys," she started, "I hope ya don't mind, but he dropped by here a couple of hours ago, an' he wants to spend this evening getting to know us. So of course, he'll be staying fer dinner. I sincerely hope you'll be polite towards him, for me, at least."
Bobby looked worried. "I'm thinking maybe this Sundown man is out to replace our Dad," he told her.
"I don't doubt that at all," Lorna wanted to say. But she didn't want to be negative towards her new love. So she said, "Look, he seems to be a friendly, kind an' understanding man. Please give him a chance, okay?"
Bobby and Riley nodded solemn promises, and their mother escorted them out.
"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," she said when she saw Sundown again. "Just giving the kids some encouragement to warm up to you."
"It's all right," Sundown replied. But just as he was about to ask them something, he saw them preparing their schoolbooks. Bobby went to the bedroom he shared with his brother; Riley went to the dining table.
Riley caught Sundown's peeved look. "Sorry," he said to him, "but we gotta do our homework before dinner. You understand, don't ya?"
Sundown looked interested. "What kind is it? Maybe I can help."
"I have to label this detailed map of the Western Cordillera – mountains, rivers, deserts, cities," Riley explained, "then a few Math questions about decimals. Should be able to handle it."
Sundown went down the hall to the boys' bedroom. "Bobby!" he called. "What kinda homework d'ya have? Ya need my help?"
Lorna decided to get started on dinner. Neither she nor Riley heard from Sundown for the next half-hour. The younger boy managed to finish his homework in that time. And just as he was putting his books away, Sundown appeared again, and was staring right at him. He approached the boy, and gently put his hand on his shoulder, nodding towards the living room sofa.
"Come sit wit me, my boy," Sundown said. "I reckon we need to have a man-to-man talk."
Riley could somewhat sense what this would be about, and said, "Uh, Sundown, I'm thinking Bobby's still doing his homework. If you want to talk about our Dad, shouldn't Bobby be involved in this somehow? I think this should wait until after dinner."
Sundown nodded. "Yer right, Riley," he said softly. "How foolish I was to not think of Bobby in this."
He took Riley out to the balcony to look at the view. The sun was just starting to set now. Riley sighed as he stared at the numerous buildings obscuring the colorful sky. He started to feel a little chilled, too; the late afternoon fall weather being cooler than what it is in Texas. Sundown could see this homesick look, and walked over to hold him close.
"You miss yer home, don't ya?" he asked. "You miss bein' wit all the friends an' family that you love. Believe me, I know that feelin'. When I first came here, I just despised all the noise an' distractions, an' all the other disadvantages of this modern, bustlin' megalopolis. And you'll never feel at home here, will ya?"
Riley shook his head.
"Neither will I, son," Sundown replied. "But what ya need to understand is that both you an' I were brought here fer different reasons. An' while I can return to my home state when my schedule permits, you an' yer brother an' yer mama can never return, as dictated by the law. Luckily, I adjusted the best I could, by brandin' my own Texas style of justice, as well as keepin' in touch wit my family. All I wanna know is how yer mama an' brother will adjust. I'd love to lend y'all a helping hand." He held Riley in his arms, hoping it would comfort him.
Lorna had been watching all this, and admired Sundown's treatment towards Riley. Warm, caring, affectionate. She walked towards her new man and took his hand. She looked at Riley. He was holding Sundown's other hand, looking at him like he wanted to bond with him badly.
"Oh, Sundown, I never knew how wise you are," she cooed. "You probably meant this to be private, but I couldn't help but to overhear." She was touching his cheek lightly and staring into his eyes now. "Oh, but you'd make a wonderful father for the boys. Maybe just as wonderful as Stuart had been."
Sundown gave a look that was a little disapproving. How can a man like yer husband be so wonderful if he killed other innocent folks? he thought.
"Maybe you reckoned Stuart was a good husband an' father," he told her. He led her into the kitchen and whispered so Riley wouldn't hear him. "But I want yer boys to understand what kinda man he really was."
Suddenly, they heard the television playing what sounded like a talk show, and they saw Riley just staring aimlessly, not looking like he was paying attention. Sundown turned it off and looked to see if Bobby had finished his homework and would come out. He never came out until dinner was ready.
Dinner that evening consisted of a stewing beef and rice casserole made of onions and cream of mushroom soup. "My mama made this fer the family once every two weeks," Lorna said as she served everyone. "I haven't made this since we left Texas, and thought it was about time I did so."
"Looks just scrumptious," Sundown commented, then tasted a forkful of stewing beef and rice. "Tastes scrumptious, too."
"Thank you," Lorna replied.
He ate another forkful, then turned to her. "So, how 'bout you tell me a little bit more 'bout yer boys? Anythin' in particular that they like to do?"
Lorna smiled and pointed at Bobby. "This one likes to keep active. He skateboarded with Jackson's kids this summer, an' plays baseball and basketball, an' even likes to challenge all his cousins to races. He did that all the time when they were with my brothers." She looked directly at Riley. "This one's not so interested in sports. He's more artistic an' knowledgeable. His favorite subjects include Social Studies, including geography. His specialties in that are exotic locations an' world cities. He also likes Language Arts, Art an' computers. Science an' history, on the other hand, bore him, and I have the report cards to prove all this. But Riley loves writing small prose an' poetry, reading an' watching movies, an' also enjoys making his own stamps. He's been doing that since he was six."
"Don't they have anythin' they like doin' together?" Sundown asked.
"Yeah, now that I think about it," Lorna replied. "Both of them like to go swimming. The recreation center in town, they have leisure swimming every weekend, and either Tammy-Lynn or Jackson an' I would take all our kids, and we'd supervise with all the other parents. Sometimes, when Jackson came, he'd have on his swim trunks and be in the pool with them all, playing games, and he'd tell me to go relax in the Jacuzzi."
She noticed her new love looking upset, as if he wasn't even paying attention. She looked concerned and asked, "Is something the matter?"
Sundown shook his head. "No, it's just that, well…" He took her hand and looked like a sad puppy dog in her eyes. "You said these boys like to go swimmin'. My darlin', I'm afraid, I can't swim at all."
"Well, that's too bad," Lorna said. "This building has a swimming pool, sauna an' workout room. Mind you, I'm only renting this place out until I can find a home fer the three of us. Maybe one with a built-in pool in the backyard fer the boys."
Sundown groaned a little. Sure he could play some games with Bobby, and teach Riley some things about Texan history, at least. But unless he could learn how to swim, there'd be no way he could bond with them together.
He looked at Riley again, and turned to Lorna. "Lorna, just how is Riley when it comes to learnin' new things? I reckon maybe I should take him to a history museum or somethin'. Maybe if I show him a few things 'bout the Wild West, he'd be a lil' more interested."
She turned to her younger son. "Would you give this a try, Riley?"
He nodded with interest. "Show me a few western flicks, an' I just may be a little motivated," he answered. He gave Sundown an interested smile, eager to have a relationship with him. He ate two more big forkfuls of food.
After dinner, Sundown took the boys to the living room, placed them on the sofa, sat down in between them. He pulled them closer to him and said, "Now, I want you boys to tell me all you remembered an' loved 'bout yer father. Think back to those times before he was thrown to the hoosegow an' executed fer murder."
Bobby sighed a little as everything about this returned to his mind. "I liked how he always wanted to bond with us both," he said. "I may not remember much about when I was a baby, but what I do remember was when I stopped being breastfed, an' started with the bottle. Whenever it was time fer my feeding, Dad would always be the one to prepare my bottle an' give it to me. Then he'd sit in the dining room an' prop me up against him, his chest hair in my ear, and smile naturally as I drank my milk. Then, later on, when I needed to be burped, he just put my chin on his bare shoulder, and let me spit up on his back."
Lorna emerged from the kitchen to join them for a minute. "He'd do the same thing with Riley, too," she said. "He always insisted on feeding them so I could get my sleep. He was always generous like that. Of course, it cost him twenty minutes of sleep every night, but he was known to thrive on six hours every night. An' just as he'd sleep in his underpants with no shirt, that's how he looked when he fed them, too. He'd always take off his shirt whenever he went to burp them; he hated getting spit up on his clothes."
Bobby stared at the picture of him and Riley with their father. "If there's one thing I admired about Dad," he said, "it's the way he always kept a strong, fit body, exercising, running, lifting weights. Look at him, Sundown. That's exactly how I want to be when I grow up. That's how I got my love of fitness an' staying active."
"Unfortunately, I won't let them go to a public gym or experiment with weights until they're at least fourteen," Lorna said, then went back to the kitchen. "Don't worry, Bobby, you'll have at least six more months to wait!"
Sundown looked at Riley, and the younger boy told him, "I was always the dreamy one. Most nights, I would have these beautiful dreams with me an' Daddy in them. We'd always go on exciting, daring adventures. Skysurfing over an exotic vacation destination, admiring the view below, or deep-sea diving in search for sunken treasure, and we'd still be able to breathe underwater without tanks an' scuba gear. Of course, I know you can't breathe underwater without those things; that's why they're dreams. Anyway, I would always tell Daddy about my dreams, and he'd listen intentionally. Sometimes, he'd even tell me he had the same dream, too, like he was actually there with me. At bedtime, he'd tell me stories of wild adventures that a father an' son would share. Of course, he'd leave them nameless, but I knew he was talking about him an' me." He lowered his head a bit. "I never really started having nightmares until after he was gone. I'd wake up an' scream an' cry on school nights, an' Mom would be there to comfort me – never Daddy. I'd wished he'd be the one to hold me, tell me I was just havin' a bad dream. The thing is, it never was a dream at all."
"Aw, come on, Riley," Bobby said. "You'd have nightmares when we slept at our uncles' houses. Uncle Travis, Uncle Steve or Uncle Kirby would come into your room to comfort you, remember?"
Sundown held the younger boy to keep him from crying. He said lowly, "You wanna know somethin', Riley? I'd have those dreams of sharin' adventures wit a special lil' boy, too. That's why I always dreamed of havin' a son, so I could make some of those dreams come true. Oh, my family always told me to volunteer wit the Big Brother program, but it ain't the same. Those things only let ya have the kid fer only an hour or two. Maybe three or four, at the most." He started thinking at Jeremy Boston again, but decided not to mention him to the boys. "But now that I'm gittin' to know you two, I'm ready, willin' an' able to make some of those dreams come true. An' if yer both willin' to let me in, to gimme a chance, and let relationships form an' blossom, I promise I'll be just as strong an' kindly as yer father was – before he became a criminal."
Riley wrapped himself around Sundown's middle to hug him tight. "Thank you, Sundown," he said. "I promise I'll very good just fer you."
Bobby seemed a little more reluctant, and held him a little more loosely. "I promise, too," he said.
Lorna had just put away the last of the dinner dishes, and went back to the living room to see her sons starting to love her new boyfriend. She sniffled and said, "I wish I had my camera on me right now." She took a few deep breaths and looked at Bobby.
"Have you finished all your homework?" she asked.
"I have," Bobby answered.
"Wonderful." She went to the closet in the hallway and retrieved Scrabble. They spent the next two hours playing the game before sending the boys to bed. As they were getting ready, Lorna privately asked them, "So, what do you boys think of Sundown? Tell me honestly."
"I really do like him," Riley said. "He's so warm an' open an' loving. Especially when we were talking about Daddy."
"I thought he was going to condemn him for murder," Bobby said, "and say that Dad got what was coming to him." His words and tone sounded bitter and resentful.
She could tell what her older son's attitude meant. She said, "Bobby, you were awful quiet when we were playing Scrabble. Look, I know you miss your father so much, and you're probably uncomfortable with Sundown. But think of it this way, he wants you to understand that what Dad did was punishable to the law, without really losing that special place we all have in our souls for him." An' I certainly hope that last part is true, she thought. She said good night to hem, turned out the light, and went back to Sundown.
He was licking his lips when he saw her, thinking of her meal. "Mmm, that was a terrific dinner you made this evenin'," he said.
"Thanks," she replied. "When you've stayed at home your whole marriage, cooking and cleaning become your main specialties." She turned on her radio, an easy-listening station playing a saxophone solo during a slow song, the volume set at a moderate level to listen while the boys slept.
"I know this isn't the country music you like," she said, "but I just want to relax tonight."
They sat back on the sofa, close to one another. Sundown smiled and touched Lorna's face. He said, "Let's talk 'bout this job thing. After Stuart went away, what kinda job didja hold down?"
"I worked full-time as a waitress at a family restaurant in Dallas called Hickory Farms," Lorna said. "Fairly new place, I gather it had been around fer five years. Between the tips, an' the fact that I taught my boys that necessity was more important than want, we managed to get by. Even in Dallas, most people wouldn't hire me. Who'd want a mere housewife with no career experience?"
"Are you sure you wanna do that again?" Sundown asked her. "You really want to go through all that commutin' back an' forth all over Empire City, workin' two jobs to pay yer bills 'til ya wear out? I can't have ya do that." He paused to look in her eyes. "With yer cookin', my darlin', I reckon you could start yer own caterin' business right here from home."
"You really think I should?" she asked. "Is that really a good idea? I mean, my family never really encouraged that. Will I need to get a loan? I may have to look into a laptop computer, in case I have to visit clients. And who'll do my webpage? I hadn't updated on family webpage since Stuart was gone."
"Shouldn't be that difficult," Sundown assured her. "Maybe if ya called the business bureau an' inquired 'bout it, they should help ya git started."
Lorna smiled, now encouraged. "You're right. Thank you so much. I'll have to call them first thing in the morning." She felt so happy and confident.
She dimmed the living room lights, and they spent the rest of the night making love to the rhythm of the stereo, almost never saying anything. At eleven-thirty, Sundown quietly announced, "Listen, I hate to see this end, sweetheart, but I have to go now."
"I understand," Lorna replied. "You have work, and what woman stays overnight with a man on the first date?"
She walked him to the door, and after a long kiss goodnight and silent farewell, Sundown was gone, and Lorna stared at the door for almost half an hour, wondering when they will meet again.
When they arrived at Family Choices, Marilyn told her children, "Now, we're here to meet the man I've been telling you about, so I expect you to be on your best behavior for him, okay?" She almost never reminded her children to behave at a restaurant, but meeting someone new there was a special occasion, and she didn't want any potential rudeness to scare that person away.
There was hardly a line, only three people standing in wait for tables, so Marilyn took Justin and Bridget right up. When it was their turn to be seated, Marilyn said, "I'm meeting a man named Hugh Forward, codename Bullseye." The attendant nodded and led them to a booth occupied by a familiar-looking man with reddish-brown hair. Marilyn whistled at his black dress-shirt and khaki slacks.
"Bullseye?" she guessed. "You sure know how to dress for a date." She sat next to him, and introduced Justin and Bridget as they sat on the other side
"Hi," the children said together. Justin was staring at Bullseye with profound interest.
"Uh, nice to meet you," Bullseye replied, suddenly wondering why a woman would bring her children with her on the first date. He was guessing this was dinner only. They had school and work in the morning, he logically believed.
A waitress came to their table and asked what they like to drink. Both Bullseye and Marilyn ordered coffee, and she ordered a glass of regular milk for Bridget. But Justin was staring at Bullseye so lovingly, he never paid attention. Bridget had to tap his shoulder and ask, "What would you like to drink?"
Justin sat up immediately and said, "I'd like a Diet Pepsi, if I may, Mom." Marilyn nodded in acceptance.
"Did you look at that, Justin's interested in you already," Marilyn noted. "Must be the 'helicopter pilot' factoid. So, Bullseye – if that's what you prefer to be called."
"It is," Bullseye replied.
"Right," she said. "Um, why don't you tell me a little more about yourself, maybe where you originated before you joined up with C.O.P.S.?"
He smiled and began, "Well, I was recruited here all the way from Miami."
"Miami?" she repeated. "Oh, that's such a beautiful city. My husband, Rich, and I, we went to Miami on our honeymoon, and again for our fifteenth wedding anniversary."
She looked at her children and said, "Why don't you two get some plates from the buffet section there, and get something to eat? Justin, make sure Bridget gets some vegetables." The children nodded and left the table.
Marilyn looked at Bullseye again and said, "So, you originated from Miami, where you spent your whole career, I'm assuming." He nodded. "Were you a famous helicopter pilot there?"
"And a police officer," Bullseye said. "I've actually been flying helicopters since I was fourteen, my father being a pilot himself. I've studied to be a pilot in college; having obtained my license at twenty-one, but it was my mother who encouraged me to go to the police academy afterwards. I've had the Air Raid helicopter since I first joined the Miami Police Department, and my flying skills have helped in more than my share of arrests. I could detect them all – drug dealers, transporters of illegal guns, and I'd even spotted a few illegal aliens from Cuba and eastern Mexico, among a long list. As well, and I hate to brag, but I have amazing flying skills. I'm actually more comfortable in the sky than I am on the ground."
Marilyn smiled a huge smile, and Bullseye was immediately turned on. "I can tell you're impressed. So was the C.O.P.S. team."
"So glad that your talents got recognized," Marilyn said. "Then again, I'm not really that surprised." The children came back with potatoes and chicken and assorted vegetables, so the adults went up for their meal.
In line, she looked down at his hands. "So, what about your personal life?" she asked. "I can tell you're not married; you're minus a wedding band."
"Nope, never have been," Bullseye said. "I did have a couple of girlfriends back in Miami though. I guess they felt a little uneasy about being with a pilot; the long hours flying, not getting to see your date much, they think you're more in love with your plane." He scooped some hamburger and macaroni casserole, then stopped. "I never could understand it, though. I could understand the long hours and little devotion bits if you were an airline pilot, flying to all those faraway places. But we helicopter pilots go home for longer periods after our shifts end. Sure, we may be just as tired, but we can always make time for our families and friends after work."
"You're a very charming, nice-looking person," Marilyn replied. "I think you deserve a relationship that goes beyond just a booty call."
"And especially since I really want children," Bullseye agreed. "When I go to sleep after my shifts, I would dream that I was a father of a wonderful, obedient young boy, and he and I would fly the Air Raid all over the city, and I'd show him the sights, and we'd bust up a few spotted crimes together. When I was in Miami, and my nephews would visit me, they'd ask me if they could go flying with me. They'd love the view. I could make a boy live for the sky just as I do."
"Well, you'll have no problem with Justin," Marilyn said as she scooped some mashed potatoes and added gravy. "He's been interested in helicopters and airplanes since he was a little boy. He'd make helicopter noises as he'd speed-walk with a toy helicopter all around the house. It'd annoy me when he'd make the noises, but I managed to see past it and watch him have fun with them. And it was always warm where we lived in Arizona, so he'd always be outside running around the front and back yards with his airplanes. He'd often pretend they were fighter planes in combat, even toy passenger jets."
"So I take it he's doesn't want to be an airline pilot," Bullseye guessed. "He yearns for a little action, doesn't he?"
"He takes after his father," Marilyn guessed. Not only is he full of energy, but also adrenaline and testosterone. He's dreamed of perhaps joining the Army and flying in one of those fighter jets."
Just as she went over to the other side of the buffet, she gasped. She noticed Turbo Tu-Tone in line, just starting to fill his plate. Turbo caught Marilyn's familiar face, from the day she and Bullseye met, grinned at her and waved. She nearly dropped her plate into the battered shrimp.
"Oh, crap!" she whispered aloud. "Bullseye, that's the truck thief from last Saturday. He must've been driving towards a theft, and noticed my car from the distance. Otherwise I would wonder what the hell he's doing here!"
She looked down for the rest of her buffet round, staring at the food, avoiding any eye contact with Turbo. When she got to the end, she walked quickly back to her table. Her children looked worried at her.
"Mom, what's wrong?" Justin asked. "Did you just see a ghost?"
"Worse," she answered. "Remember the driver of that speeding truck we drove after last weekend? He's decided to come here just to flirt with me, I know it!" She was relieved when Bullseye came back with his full plate. "What I want to know is how the hell did he get out of jail?"
"Marilyn, you don't know what these crooks are capable of when it comes to escaping," Bullseye answered as he rolled his eyes.
The new couple was eating their food rather timidly. She tried not to notice Turbo grinning and winking at her as he walked past. He looked back, and noticed a table and two empty chairs just across from them, so he set his plate down, and retrieved his water and coffee from his old table.
She didn't notice him flirting with her, but did turn to him when he said, "Hey, sweetheart."
Marilyn groaned and held her stomach, feeling as if she was going to have cramps.
"Um, didn't you go to jail for that truck you stole?" she asked lowly. "Where's your little blond partner? And what are you doing here, other than to pick me up?"
"Relax," Turbo said, "Can't a guy have dinner by himself without others bein' so suspicious?"
"Oh, come off it! I'll bet you came here looking for this table, and sat yourself at the closest available one." She looked at the booths down the closest aisle to them. "I'll bet you previously came from one of those available booths."
Turbo decided to confess then. "That's 'cuz I mostly came to see you, as well as have dinner. Suddenly, I was hungry." He bit from a fried chicken breast.
"Well, in you case you haven't noticed, I'm on a date." She touched Bullseye, then pointed at her children. "These ones are only here to meet him."
Turbo pulled out his cell phone and activated it to camera mode, getting both Marilyn and Bullseye in the frame. The phone flashed and beeped, and Turbo grinned.
"Oh, God, don't tell me he got our picture!" Marilyn whined, then turned away from the crook. "Okay, if they come around with those little survey tickets, asking us how to improve service, I'm telling them to install curtains in the booths that only waitresses can peek through!"
She spent the rest of the meal looking at either her children or her date. Bullseye smiled a little and said, "Don't worry about him, Marilyn. Why don't you tell me a little more about yourself? Your career, your husband. I know you're working alongside Valerie at Lancer and Sussex." He looked at Bridget, who smiled back at him. "You've told me about Justin, what about Bridget?"
"Which do you want to hear first?" she asked.
Marilyn started talking about her advertising career. She told Bullseye about her greatest accomplishments, the projects she involved her children in. The same things she revealed when she was first interviewed at Lancer and Sussex. "You can guess I'm that devoted to my children," she said.
"What got you promoted to project manager in the first place?" Bullseye asked. "That sounds like a major accomplishment. You must feel pretty powerful."
"Oh, the branch I worked at in Vidmark had about forty employees, and around five of them were managers," Marilyn said. She ate a piece of veal cutlet. "One of them was a woman named Jane DeMorgan, she worked at the company for fifteen years, and she was manager for eight of them. I worked with her most often, and she was so easy to get along with. She was always open to new ideas, and brainstorming with her was a pleasure. She wrote in her reports how attentive, hard-working and energetic I was. When Jane left the company, I was chosen to succeed her. That was two years before I came here. Living proof that hard work does pay off."
Bullseye looked so proud at her. "That's wonderful. And I'll bet all that hard work, and a perfect-or-nearly-so track record was what attracted the main branch here."
He looked at Bridget again. "What about Bridget? You said some things about the Miami Misty doll promotion you put her in. Is that all she likes to do, is play with dolls? He was already wondering what kind of "girl games" he could play with her.
"She's very girlish like that," Marilyn answered. "Dolls, doll houses, fold-out pool sets and waterfall getaways they advertise on TV, even those little pink Corvettes she makes the dolls drive around in. Mind you, those are one of the few dolls I let her have. The way I see it, Miami Misty has the looks of Barbie, but the innocence of the Polly Pocket dolls from years ago. Her bedroom is all dolled out in pink and purple, yellow and light blue and light green. But I had to make sure they didn't look like pastels; I read that babies exposed to pastel colors turn out to be shy and quiet. I wanted Bridget to be girlish, but also confident and outgoing."
She looked at her daughter finishing up her peas and corn. "And right now, she can't really think of anything to say."
"She looks so sweet," Bullseye complimented, then looked somber. "And what about Rich? Your husband? What was he like as a husband and father? And what happened to him?"
Suddenly, Justin and Bridget stopped eating and looked very sad. Bridget only sighed, but Justin looked as if tears were beginning to emerge, the painful memories of the days and nights that followed, when his father was all he could think about, how he cried alone in his bedroom nightly.
"Uh, Bullseye, can we please not discuss that in front of the kids?" Marilyn requested, her voice sounding wobbly. She reached across the table to try and comfort her son. "Maybe if you can come over for coffee one of these evenings, we can talk." She lightly encouraged her children to finish dinner, the way she stabbed some of Bridget's French fries and gave her the fork.
Across the aisle, Turbo looked a little sympathetic. "So, Marilyn, this means yer widowed?" he asked. He went over to rub her shoulder for comfort, but she immediately pushed him away.
"Get lost, you hairbag!" she ordered. "Why don't you find a table on the other end of the dining hall?" Turbo went back to his new table and stayed there. Bullseye was glaring at him fiercely.
"You should be lucky I'm off-duty and don't have a phone on me!" he told him. "I could turn you over to headquarters for harassment!"
Turbo was disgusted. "Whatever, copper," he muttered as he took his food and left the table. But before he went back to his original table, he gave Marilyn a grin and a wink.
She was so bothered; she ate some of her food faster. Bullseye rubbed her shoulder and said, "Don't worry about him, Marilyn. You really ought to slow down when you're eating."
Marilyn looked a bit peeved. Part of her wanted to lecture Bullseye for telling her about table etiquette. But she looked at her kids, who were just staring at her. "Oh, you're right," she said. "I shouldn't act like such a child, should I? Especially eating like a pig, what kind of example does that set for my kids?"
"It's okay," he reassured her. "Let's talk about something else." He looked at Justin for a few moments. "You know, I've always dreamed that whenever I had a son, he'd follow into my footsteps and become a police officer himself." He was focused on the boy now. "And I can see that for you, Justin. I think you'd make a really great helicopter pilot for C.O.P.S. And I'm confident that this is what your father would want out of you."
"You really think so?" Justin asked. "I'd thought about becoming a police officer and helicopter pilot up until Dad got killed. "I'm afraid the same thing would happen to me." His voice got a little wispier. "Isn't there any danger in flying a helicopter for the police? Don't you worry about your helicopter getting shot down and crashing?"
Bullseye reached across the table and took Justin's hand. "Justin, trust me," he said, "you won't get killed in the line of duty if you're careful, cautious, and don't rush into anything dangerous without calling for help. That's what we do best at the C.O.P.S. organization. We always count on each other to get the job done as a team, so we can survive through it."
He could see the boy looking convinced, but still timid about becoming an officer. So Bullseye continued, "I want to inspire you, Justin. If you can let me into your and your mother's lives, and if you all can let me be part of your family, then maybe I can be father, mentor and friend to you. I know that's what all sons want from their fathers."
Justin smiled and nodded, and Bullseye smiled back at this acceptance. The kids finished their meals then, but Justin and Marilyn went for a smaller second plate. When they were done, Bullseye treated both children to ice cream for dessert.
Marilyn looked at her date with such admiration. She knew Bullseye could make Justin happy, but wondered about Bridget. She wondered what things he'd do with her, and what he'd teach her. What would Bullseye have in common with a seven-year-old girl? she wondered. Perhaps he could tell her stories about flying to faraway places.
Oh, well. We'll cross that street when we get to it.
Both Mace and Highway had Friday night off, so when the SWAT member told the motorcycle officer of his plans with Cheryl, Highway immediately called Janice to ask if she was free that night.
Janice was enthralled. "Highway, I was hoping when you'd finally ask me out," she said. "Mind you, I was so touched by your sexy talk, but when were we actually going out?"
"I didn't know when my next time off would be that would allow it," he grinned. "I wouldn't want anything to interfere with you going to work in the morning."
She laughed back. "Good to know you're willing to look out for my career needs. I like that in a man."
The date Friday night started off well. There was no dinner, but they did start out with three games of bowling, as Mace had originally planned. Mace and Cheryl were bowling the best, trading off first and second place every game. They'd had an amazing number of strikes in total, and gave each other a lot of kisses in the process. Highway bowled the worst, not getting a single strike, but mostly gutter balls and splits he couldn't make into spares.
It was now the beginning of the tenth frame in the third game. Janice felt very sorry for her date, and rubbed his shoulders. "Don't worry," she said, "I'm not doing all that great, either. Notice I only had two strikes ever tonight, and this third game is just wrapping up."
"You haven't bowled in a long time, have you?" Highway asked.
"Not since my thirtieth birthday," she answered.
They watched Cheryl bowl three strikes in a row, then go up to Mace to kiss for thirty seconds.
"Baby, you weren't kiddin' when ya said ya liked bowlin'," he said.
"Back in Pittsburgh, I had a 265 average in my Friday night league, and a 274 average in my Saturday night league," she bragged.
As he went to take his turn, she French-kissed him three times for good luck.
"Ugh, Cheryl!" Janice sneered. "Do you realize this is a public bowling alley? Other people might be watching!"
"I don't see any kids here," Cheryl laughed back. Seconds later, they heard Mace bowl yet another strike. But on the second ball, he knocked down only eight pins. Cheryl went up and rubbed his shoulders for more good luck. It seemed to work – he bowled a fast spare.
"Don't worry if you lose, sweetie," she advised. "It's always good date manners to let the lady win sometimes."
At Janice's turn, she bowled a 9-1 spare on the first two balls, but knocked down only seven pins on the third. Highway was less fortunate, bowling a 6-4 split and knocking down only two pins on the second ball. Janice rubbed the back of his neck with her arm.
"Didn't Mace tell you we were going clubbing afterwards?" she asked. "I think this'll make you feel better."
It was a little after ten-thirty when they arrived at a nightclub called China Grove. There was a medium-sized line, about forty people, mostly young adults in their twenties. As they stood in line and moved towards the doors, they saw more college students and young partygoers joining them. Janice looked uneasy as she looked around.
"Guys," she said, "I don't know about you, but I feel out of place here."
But nobody paid much attention to her. Cheryl and Mace were already feeling driven but the rock and techno music they could hear playing.
"This is rocking!" Cheryl exclaimed. "I haven't heard any of these songs since I was in college." She rubbed her date's shoulder. "You're really into this rock music, aren't you, Mace?"
"Both old an' new," he grinned. "Nothin's changed since my high school an' college days."
She started bopping around in the line. "Ooh, this is going to be fun."
"You listen to this music, too?" Janice asked. "And you are how old?"
"Forty-two," Cheryl answered confidently. "You can guess I'm such a teenybopper when it comes to music. Actually, I listen to everything – rock, pop, techno, country. I'll listen to anything except classical. I'll get into fights with my daughter because I sometimes steal her CD's to listen to."
Highway wrapped his arms around Janice's waist. "Don't worry, honey, you'll love it," he said. "I'll buy you some drinks to loosen you up, okay?"
She smiled back. "You're so sweet, Highway. Thanks."
They managed to get in and checked by quarter to eleven. Mace received a band indicating he'd be the designated driver. As they went to the tables and bar, Janice was already tensing up by the loud "trance" music, the loud pumping beats. She waited until it was over, then heard yet another techno song.
"Highway!" she yelled over the noise. "You think they could play a nice slow song or something?"
But Mace could hear her. "Are ya kiddin' me, Janice?" he asked. "Places like this one don't play slow love songs, not even if ya requested one!"
Janice looked as uneasy as ever, but Highway tried to comfort her. "Look, I understand this isn't what you pictured your first date, but can you try to have a good time? How about I get you something to drink now? Then later, when the dance floor's filling up, we can do some dancing."
"I'll try, Highway," she promised. "Maybe if you can get me a glass of vodka."
"Your wish is my command," Highway said, then went to the bar.
She was staring at her date as he walked, but felt Cheryl touching her arm after a few seconds. "So, Janice," she said, "why don't you tell us some things about yourself? What brings you here to Empire City?"
She knew that Highway had heard it before, so she told her, "Well, I used to live in California like Highway did, but then I got divorced over serious differences about what was best for my youngest son. I have three boys, and the older two still live in Los Angeles with their father. Regan, my youngest, is the only one I have custody of." Just then, Highway joined them with the drinks.
Mace and Cheryl looked insulted. "Gee, thanks fer fergettin' about us, Highway," he criticized.
"Can't you get drinks for your date yourself?" Highway replied.
Janice rolled here eyes. "Anyway," she said, "I divorced Cliff because I was tired of him and his goddamn family always putting pressure on him to be something he could never be, just for the sake of family harmony."
"I'm sorry, putting pressure on your son to be something he couldn't be?" Cheryl wondered. "Family harmony?"
Janice began telling about Regan's cerebral palsy, and his physical and mental limitations, and how Cliff and his family would push him to be a police officer regardless. "They said his disability shouldn't keep him from following tradition. They argue that he is mobile, and not in an electric wheelchair, and can speak and hear just fine, so why not?"
"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Mace winced. "Yer Regan could never be a real cop. Maybe if he studied hard enough, he could git at least a seventy on the written exam. But he'd never pass the physical."
"That's exactly what the chief of police said when he testified in my divorce," Janice said. "But Cliff and his family would never listen. God, but I can remember Regan crying and moaning as he nearly passed out on the obstacle course and the exercise equipment. They say if you don't follow the Dalhousie family tradition, you're nothing. First of all, my family has law enforcement as tradition, too. All my brothers and one sister are officers, many of them living here in Empire City. Yet, even they can understand that Regan can never be an officer. Secondly, his sisters are married to cops, and some of his nieces even talked about marrying cops, too. Would it kill them if Regan just happened to marry a female cop? Seriously, I'm just so glad to be rid of Cliff. I would never have to talk to him again if it weren't for the child support and arranging for Roderick and Rydell to see me!"
"So what does Regan want to be?" Cheryl asked.
"He wants to be a writer for children, and maybe for juvenile and high school readers," Janice said. "I don't know, I guess we'll wait until he gets through high school himself. I'm a literary agent, working as a new partner in my sister's agency, so I guess it's partially my influence. Of course, Pam helps too. Thankfully, English has always been his favorite subject. And I should maybe give you some of his stories to read. He's so awesome."
"I'd like to meet him and read some of his work," Highway said. "Maybe even show it to my young nieces and nephews. I'm sure we'll see some good things coming from – oh, no!"
Suddenly, the couples saw three very suspicious-looking characters, two men and a woman, sitting down two tables away. Cheryl thought the woman looked somewhat familiar, but not the men, whom looked very familiar to the other three. The woman had short blond hairdo and a face that resembled the wickedest of witches, wearing a poppy red dress and triangular earrings that were the color of stone. One man was wearing a darker red suit, a cross between a cherry and a brick, and a matching fedora hat. His face was just as sinister-looking as the woman he came with. The other man was grossly obese with black slick-back hair, and a white suit with police badges for buttons. Cheryl was staring at the woman, not noticing the men were trying to flirt with her and Janice.
Cheryl leaned closer to Mace and pointed at the ugly woman. "Mace, is that the Ms. Demeanor that you and Danielle were talking about when we met at the Dairy Queen?"
"Yes, it is!" Mace answered.
She pointed at the two men. "And who are those ugly bastards?"
Janice heard this, and before the C.O.P.S. could answer, she said, "May I answer this one?" She brought Cheryl close to her and pointed them out. "The one in the imitation detective gear is Buttons McBoomBoom, and the fat ass is called Big Boss. They're real ruthless motherfuckers, and very dangerous. Especially Big Boss; he's fucking lethal! You do not want to be in his headquarters, in his suite, and you don't even want to be sitting at the same table as him."
"And how do you know this?" Cheryl asked.
"I told you, many of my cop brothers, and cop sister, Becky, they work here in Empire City. Every time they call me, they never fail to bring up some of the shenanigans that these freaks come up with. As well, they also tell me whenever some of these C.O.P.S. bust them!"
Cheryl noticed Buttons McBoomBoom and Big Boss were making eye contact with her and Janice. She looked away and flirted with Mace for thirty seconds. When she looked back at the crooks, she saw all three of them whispering.
"Uh, Janice, do you know those two freaky men are checking us out?" she asked.
Janice was disgusted, and took a bigger drink of vodka. "Yes!" She turned away from the crooks and immediately thought of something else. "So, Cheryl, maybe you told Mace, but you haven't told Highway and me – what brings you to Empire City?"
Cheryl had conflicting emotions, but managed to tell her, "A year ago last month, my husband, a fellow policeman, was gunned down in a hostage situation that turned horribly wrong. Since then, my sons had been bullied by this boy who taunts children who have no fathers in their lives. What made it worse was this bully had been spoiled by both parents. He called Jacob and Brett 'bastards' almost daily on the playground, and they, not the bully, had been blamed by school authorities for fights that one brat started! After the last incident where I took charge, the principal decidedly expelled both my sons, and that was the last straw. So I decided to take them away from all that, and here we are."
"How are they now?" Janice asked.
"Danielle, my daughter, she was a little hesitant to come here at first, but she's adjusting pretty well," Cheryl said. "She has a few friends and is doing pretty good in school. My boys have been behaving like angels and saints from day one of our living here. I have yet to have their school call me because they've been engaging in fights. They are enjoying themselves in their new school. English and Math are so easy for Jacob, while Brett is very into Science, art and computers. And I can't begin to tell you about all the sports they want me to sign them up for."
When Janice finished her drink, Highway offered, "You want me to get another glass of vodka, sweetheart?"
"I'd love one," she replied.
"And I'll have a rum and Coke please," Cheryl added to Mace.
The C.O.P.S. left for the bar, then suddenly, the women noticed Buttons and Big Boss coming toward their table. They gasped, their breath held in when Big Boss sat next to Janice, Buttons next to Cheryl.
"Well, hello there, sweet cheeks," Big Boss grinned. "What fancy meetin' you here, see?"
Janice groaned silently. Cheryl tried to stay cool, with Buttons flirting with her.
"What're yer names, ladies?" he asked. "We definitely wanna git to know ya."
His love interest immediately told him, "My name is Cheryl Raleigh, and this is Janice Dalhousie. And in case you haven't noticed, we came here with other men, and you're sitting in their seats. So if you don't mind, would you please go back to your original table?" She looked as Ms. Demeanor sitting all by herself. "I'm sure your date there is looking a little alone."
"Other men, eh?" Buttons repeated. He looked over at Highway and Mace waiting at the bar. "Ya mean those two coppers? Nah, they ain't got nothin' on us."
"Well, I came to this great city with plans to marry a 'copper,' so to speak," Cheryl said. She pointed at Janice. "And you wouldn't really be interested in her, Big Boss. She comes from a family of coppers. And you two are so ugly, you'd probably be rejected from the police force at first sight if you tried to apply."
"Cheryl!" Janice cried.
Cheryl looked over at Highway and Mace and noticed their shocked reactions. Mace walked quickly back to their table and set the drink tray down hard without smashing the glasses or spilling.
"Listen, scumbags!" he bellowed. "Ya tryin' to hit on our women here?"
"Trying being the operative word," she replied. "All these two can do is stare at us like idiots and think of cheesy lines to say. They obviously can't see that we've already been snatched up."
Mace grabbed Buttons by his collar and said through gritted teeth, "Listen, punk! If you even do so much as glance at Cheryl Raleigh here, I'm gonna call in my professional team to lock ya up on sight. Got it?!"
"Same goes for Janice here, Big Boss!" Highway added.
Buttons freed himself from Mace's grip and retorted, "All right, all right, I'm goin!" He went to his criminal employer. "C'mon, Big Boss. We know where we ain't wanted." As he left, he turned to wink at Cheryl.
Mace sat down and tried to comfort her but she said, "I'm all right, Mace. Thanks for your concern."
"You pulled that off real well," Janice said to her. "I'm impressed. I was one comment away from telling Big Boss to go fuck himself!"
Meanwhile, Ms. Demeanor was waiting for the other crooks to come back. When they did, Buttons immediately told her, "The dame Mace's with, her name is Cheryl Raleigh."
"I'll keep that in mind," Ms. Demeanor replied. Just then, the dance floor began to open up to the patrons, and the deejay announced the first song to dance to, a pop-rock hit by a group called Mojave Street, Where You're Running.
Big Boss was immediately annoyed by the noisy guitar and drum beats, the lead singer's voice. "God, why in hell didja bring me here?" he griped. "You know I can't stand this kinda shit music!"
The crooks all pretended to mind themselves, but once in a while, Ms. Demeanor would glance over at Highway, Janice, Mace and Cheryl, all drinking and laughing at their table. She waited through two more songs, then at the opening of Nelly Furtado's Promiscuous, noticed both couples heading out to dance.
Ms. Demeanor went out to the edge of the dance floor, and kept watch over Mace and Cheryl. They were dancing a little sexy to her, the way Cheryl was swinging her hips around, feeling Mace's ribs, waist and hips up and down. The dancing got dirtier as the song went on, the way Mace put his arm's below Cheryl's chest and bumped and grinded with her.
Ms. Demeanor looked over at Highway and Janice. Janice looked a little loosened up, as by the end of the song, she was unbuttoning Highway's shirt just past his chest and put the collar back to show some of him off.
"Damn, that vodka must've done the trick somehow," he grinned.
The next song that played was George Michael's Outside. Ms. Demeanor went out to the floor and casually walked past the two couples. She saw a group of friends in their late twenties dancing near Mace and Cheryl, and persuaded them to let her dance with them. She danced in the spot where she could face the couple, and kept her eyes on them. By the time they heard they "music solo" part, the patron dancing next to her said, "Ma'am, is something up? You've been staring at that couple the whole song."
She pointed at Mace and replied, "See that big guy over there? He used to date a colleague that used to work with me. And when she finds out what he's been doing with that woman, she's going to be pissed off!"
She saw the couples all get together for the next song, Lenny Kravitz's Black Velveteen. Highway and Mace held their dates' hands through the whole song, and they looked as if they were doing a rock version of square-dancing, with a little chest bumping thrown in at the end. Ms. Demeanor looked shocked.
Oh, Mace, wait until Nightshade hears about your little fling with your new bitch, Cheryl Raleigh! she thought. She's going to go berserk.
At the start of a brand new song, something that sounded like techno-pop, the deejay suddenly called out, "How about something a little more current this time? Here's this really sexy spring hit of this year from Dancing Alana, here's I'm in Love With Authority."
Soon, Ms. Demeanor saw Buttons take Big Boss onto the dance floor. She saw them scanning for the couples. She snuck her way past them to join the crooks.
"I was just next to them," she said, pointing in the direction she came. "They're right over there."
Buttons and Big Boss waited, then in the middle of the song, they saw Mace and Highway leave for the washrooms. When they had disappeared, Ms. Demeanor led them to Cheryl and Janice.
The two women stopped dancing and just stared at their new "partners." Cheryl was studying them both, and trying not to laugh as they danced. Big Boss took Janice's arm and started swinging her around wildly, almost to the point where she started screaming in fear. Buttons tried to take Cheryl's hand, but snatched it away, refusing.
"Please allow me to explain some things to you," she said. "First, the song's called I'm in Love With Authority, not I'm in Love With a Bad-Assed Criminal. Secondly, your dancing sucks, both of you. You especially, Big Boss; you should not be throwing your body around at your size. You look ridiculous! Our dates should be finishing up in the washrooms, so I suggest you vamoose by the time they come back. In fact–" She took Janice and went to a big bar-like table with stools, that overlooked the dance floor.
"Let's wait for Mace and Highway here," Cheryl said.
Meanwhile, back at her table, Ms. Demeanor was sipping a margarita as Big Boss and Buttons returned. Buttons complained to her, "Damn, that Cheryl sure has some sarcastic wit to people she don't care for. Wonder where she gits it?"
Soon enough, they saw Mace and Highway come back from the washrooms, then pick up the women from the bar table, back out to the floor. She excused herself and went to where Cheryl and Janice had been sitting. Sure enough there were Mace and Highway, dancing with the women in the middle of a full dance floor. It was still like that as they went into another retro song, DJ Champion's No Heaven. She kept watch over the two couples, Mace and Cheryl, Highway and Janice, as they were dancing dirtier than before, and the women were so loose, they began to sexually improvise.
"That is so degrading!" Ms. Demeanor whispered to herself. About three-quarters of the way through, she'd seen enough. She went to the washrooms, where there was less noise from the music. She retrieved her small cell phone from her small handbag and dialed the number of a former cat burglar.