CHAPTER FIVE (Naughty School girls make good lovers)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I AM TRYING A NEW WRITING STYLE. I HATE IT. PLEASE ADVISE AS TO YOUR PREFERENCE. 'DESCRIPTIVE' IS NOT MY FORTE AS YOU MIGHT HAVE NOTED. DOES IT TRULY MAKE THE STORY READ BETTER??? PLEASE GIVE ME SOME INPUT ON THIS ONE.... THANKS!
Jim Brass sat at the desk in his office. He was pretending to do paperwork. Actually, he had come in on his day off just for that express purpose.
At least, that's what he had told himself earlier. That the mundane part of his job was piling up and he had better make some kind of a dent in it, so...here he sat. Reports spread out here and there over the glass top of the huge area which compiled his work space.
His attention was constantly drawn to the scene which was taking place across the corridor in one of the empty offices opposite his.
Glass partitians separated each space lining the area. The precinct was understaffed so two of the offices across the way had not been occupied since the new section had opened last October.
One of the vacant spots was now in use.
Jim had dressed with special care this morning. While usually, he would have pulled on an old pair of jeans and any clean shirt laying around, he had chosen instead..a black pair of hardly worn slacks, his newest black shoes, the pair he had bought a year and a half ago for a fellow officer's funeral.
He had liked the guy and wanted to look nice for his send off.
The man had two favorite shirts. He had picked the azure blue one. Short sleeves. He knew it was 'azure' blue because the saleslady had corrected him a few times when he had said.. "Yeah, I'd like to see the blue one." "You mean the azure blue one here?" And then..when he had been sure of his decision: "I'll take the blue one." "You mean..the azure blue, of course."
She had also said, it brought out the color of his eyes. Whatever the hell that implied. He assumed it was a good thing, so he had bought the damned thing..the azure blue one.
He wasn't sure if black slacks complimented blue shirts, even if they were..azure, but..he felt good in the ensemble so he had worn it today.
His gaze once again raised to check on the proceedings across the way, his cleanly shaven face etched with an unconscious scowl of disapproval.
Vincent Duvalier was 'dressing down' one of his 'men'. It was evident because Special Agent Haley Meadows had yet to lift her head since first the tirade had begun several minutes ago, her body language alerting Brass to her state of mind.
She repeatedly nodded her acquiesce to whatever was being said but had not once verbally responded to the severe reprimand being issued. Brass thought the forced silence must surely be killing the woman, if nothing else being done to her.
Duvalier, on the other hand, seemed to have volumes to say.
Brass would never even consider interfering with another Supervisor's business but secretly, he did not like the manner in which the other man was addressing the woman.
He did not like it one little bit.
Everyone made mistakes..everyone was human. He didn't understand why the F.B.I. Director was being so harsh with Haley Meadows.
So, the cover had been blown. There were other avenues of investigation. It was a shame it had not panned out but..hell, lots of leads fell through. You moved on. You found another path.
Jim moved some papers off his laptop, opening the silver lid. He booted the machine, waiting for the screen to spring to life. It did not take long. His screen saver was not unique. A picture of the beach at sunset. Two loungers, two drinks sticking out of an ice-bucket. A nice 'thought' to greet one every day.
Duvalier exited the office, his face etched with anger. If the glass door could have been slammed, Brass had a feeling, the man would have made the gesture. As it was, all doors closed automatically with a soft 'swoosh'.
The drama was lost in translation.
Haley Meadows had remained inside the empty office. To get her equilibrium back, Brass thought to himself.
She appeared rather forlorn and small somehow. His eyes took in the petite figure. She had opted for jeans and a white ruffled blouse..bright red tennis shoes.
Brass thought they must feel good after a night in heels. He was no expert, of course.
He thought about going over to offer some sort of solace maybe..or just a show of solidarity but he was torn. He knew the value of discipline among the ranks.
He, himself, had often had to pull rank with one of his people. It wasn't something he enjoyed but he knew it was a necessary part of the growth process for an officer.
It wasn't like he hadn't been called on the cuff a few times in the past.
Still, the woman looked so..lost. Vulnerable, for a change.
She just stood, in the middle of the room. Her hand fiddled listlessly with some unseen something on the desk. A desk they used for 'storage'..meaning anything no one wanted to file right away. Or rotted plants, or supplies that had gone astray.
He tried to concentrate on his paperwork. It was none of his business..plain and simple.
He felt..shitty.
"I'm supposed to report to you."
He had started a bit, her presence at his opened door surprising him. "..Excuse me?"
"There is a development. He..Director Duvalier..wants me to apprise you." She looked rather sheepish and decidedly ill-at-ease for once.
"How you doing today?" Brass had noted the dark circles under the usually bright eyes which bespoke of loss sleep. "He was pretty rough on you."
"No!" She shook her head. Her hair was down today, all soft and flowing about her face, falling over her shoulders in ringlets of blonde curls. He liked the effect in spite of himself. "No..he..he is right. I screwed the pooch."
"A dog lover, are you?" The man tried for a joke.
She blinked those incredible green eyes at him, totally lost.
"Anyway..." he quickly moved the conversation forward. "Have a seat." He had arisen upon her arrival, too much of a gentleman to remain seated. Old school respect, granted. He found no fault with it. He motioned to the one leather seat that sat before his desk. "What's going on?"
"I gotta get going, but.." she waved the politeness aside but stepped further into the room at least.
"Long story short.." She began without preamble. "I ..heard a noise..in the alleyway. Right after..they popped the nut bar. The guy we got last night?"
"Batman." Brass nodded he was following. "Hey, the guy's a harmless asswipe. Who knew." He shrugged, playing with his pen between thick fingers as he spoke. "He likes pretty ladies..what can you say. No law in 'looking', right?"
"I ..went back. After we clicked off air." She picked up an old coin he kept on his desk, turning it about in her hands, examining the surface. It was from Viet Nam. There was a niche in the silver caused by a bullet gracing it. His buddy, Sam Adams..not the Founding Father...had sworn it was a good luck charm. Brass had taken it off the man's body as a remembrance of a good man. He had kept it since. He treasured it.
"What do you mean..you went.."
"I had heard something. Not the guys on the roof..something..else." She had turned pink, the unusual white pallor of her complexion tinting visibly and she cleared her throat self-consciously.
"Vincent said..if I had my mind on my job instead of ways to get into your..eh..." She motioned to the black slacks, her eyes unable to meet his just yet. "That I would have connected the sound and we would have had the asshole right then and there. It wasn't like we weren't in the vicinity, after all."
Brass digested all being said, taking his time.
"Anyway..I went back to check, just in case. I searched the alley and..everything seemed ok until I saw it." She drew in a long breath. "..the fire escape ladder had been pulled down. I didn't even know there was a fire escape back there. I walked the damned street a thousand times and never once...saw what was right in front of my face."
She lifted world-weary eyes. "Some trained observer, huh?" She tried a smile, failing miserably. "He was right there all the time. Close enough to hear every fucking word I said to you guys. He knows we're on to him and he will be moving on We've lost his trail because I was.." She couldn't finish. So..she shut up.
She swallowed..hard and tears formed in the crystal green orbs. She tried to fight them off. "Vincent said...when he..kills again. It will be on me. Some...one's..daughter..or sister..will die..alone and terrified and.."
"Stop that shit." The man snapped his waning patience.
"It's true." She stated fatalistically. "It's..all..." She shook her head woefully, swiping the tears from her cheeks with jerky movements.. "Because I ..didn't keep my mind where it was supposed to be."
Brass shook his head. "That's a lot of bullshit. Even if you would have connected the dots..we were concentrating on another scene. You could not have gotten the creep alone and had you gone IN alone..you would have had more shit than you could shovel, because then.." He punctuated his meaning with a point of his finger. "You would be dealing with me instead of Duvalier. And that..you do NOT want, trust me. Your orders were to 'get his attention'..then alert your team. That is exactly what you did."
She downed her head, her hair falling forward, obscuring her face for a beat. She lifted soft eyes. "You are a very kind man." She seemed take heart in the statement.
"Think so? Screw up with ME and see where it lands you." He..softened a little. "But..you didn't screw up. You made a mistake and that is allowed. Nothing has changed. The son-of-a-bitch isn't going anywhere. He enjoys playing the game. He wants to show us how stupid we are and how smart he is. This only makes it better for him. He won't go anywhere."
The wide eyes observed him unconsciously hopeful.
"Mark my word..I've seen it a hundred times. They are all the fucking same."
The woman..hesitated. Then, turned to go. "I hope you're right, Captain." Was all she said before she..made her exit.
Jim Brass watched her until she turned the corner which lead to the outside section of the station.
She had a really cool ass.
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Jim Brass needed a cold drink. It had been a trying day. The Feds had taken over the station. He didn't mind inter-agency co-operation but neither did he like the feeling of helplessness everyone was feeling along about now.
The creep had the upper hand for the time being. No cop liked that shit. None.
He sat, the familiar surroundings of the bar easing some of the tension in his shoulders. He waved Emanuel over, having caught the bartender's attention. The place was crowded, as usual. A thing Brass liked about it.
It was a cop bar..so most of the patrons, he knew and had acknowledged a few on his way to the worn swivel seats lining the length of the old marble top bar.
The lights were dim enough to make even the most questionable person look ok. The decor was a mixture of early fifties's jukebox, seventies's orange faux leather booths and eighties's disco ball lights that made you dizzy if you had just a few too many..not that Brass would know anything about that.
He had planned on just a beer which he had ordered from Emanuel and was nursing even now then..off to watch the Flyers play the Penguins on his newly acquired big screen plasma. A quiet night at home. Eating left over spaghetti he had made over the weekend. Such were the days of his life.
He glanced around the place, the gigantic mirror over the bar was a perfect way to search out the crowd without seeming too obvious.
He..turned, his hand braced on the edge of the bar. He smiled, shaking his head slightly. Yeah..that was the woman alright. All alone..over in a quiet corner..in a darken booth. Moving to the beat of Jail House Rock which blared on the jukebox. Number 3B. First row to the left.
Brass took his beer and..made his way through the maze of humanity.
"Everybody lets rock.." She 'danced' in her seat..she was a pretty good dancer from what he could see. "Everybody in the old cell block..was dancing to the Jail House Rock.."
"You an Elvis fan?" He asked. "You even old enough to know him?"
"HEY!" Haley Meadows took immediate offense. "HEY! Everyone knows the King! Don't be sacri..." The word failed her. "Sacriledges..." She ...scowled. "Sacri..bleu!" She laughed rather gaily at her own foibles. "Sacri..something! Don't be that!" Her scowl had returned ten fold. "Have a little respect...R.E.S.P...E...eh..."
Brass counted the glasses lined haphazardly on the table before her. "How long you been here, Special Agent Meadows?" He was curious.
"Seven beers ago." She had counted as well. It had taken her a while.
Brass..sat, sliding into the cool faux leather of the booth. "Mind if I join you?"
The woman held up her hands. "This booth is taken...see? I am here." She pointed to a spot to her left. "I just want to sit here and contemplate how much life sucks. Thank you very much."
"I can probably help with that."
"Oh...well. That's good then." She approved his decision. "You do that then. That should be..ok."
"Do you enjoy drinking alone?"
"Oh sure." She nodded. "Do you know something though?"
"What?" He humored her, leaning from her breath. Smiling slightly for the fact. "Here..have one of these." He dug in his pocket, handing over the pack of breath mints.
"How rude!" She giggled, taking the mints and popping one. "Are you going to kiss at me?"
"...I would never take advantage of a lady." He sidestepped the question artfully.
"I ain't no lady." She waved her hand, almost knocking over her latest beer. Brass moved it aside. "I'm not refined or elephant or..sophisticated or any of those two things."
"Elegant." He corrected her wording.
"That either, but you know what? I bet I could pole dance just fine!" She made a cute 'ohhh yeah' face. "I could pole dance so good it would make your head spin right off it's socket, so don't even go there!"
"I won't." She was assured.
"Did you take my purse?" She accused.
"It's right there." The woman had put the leather carry-all on her opposite side.
"..Oh." She moved it to her opposite side...the other opposite side.
"Can I take you home?" He asked. "It's been a pretty long day for you, right?"
"Ohhh, no. I'm going to see the Star Trek thingy." She shook her head woefully. "I met a priest the other day, did you see him?"
"Ah..no." he had to admit.
"Well, I did."
Brass nodded at nothing in particular. "Ok."
"Well, it's all tied together isn't it...a priest has a cross and vampires are afraid of priests...so..there you have it."
"I didn't know that."
"Well..DUH!" She laughed at him. "Everyone knows THAT!"
"You need to go home..get some sleep. Go to bed, ok?" He tried again, moving the beer out of her way. She was busy searching in her purse for some unseen object, so she didn't see his slight of hand.
"That's all you men think about..bed, bed..bed!" She grimaced. "Sex, sex...SEX!" Her voice carried a bit. Brass nodded his hello to a couple of day-shift cops who had glanced their way.
"You should be ashamed! Do you think a priest would be caught dead doing that? I don't think so!"
"Come on..I'll give you a ride." He took her arm, gently maneuvering her out of the booth. "Ok?"
"Where are we going?" She came willingly to his surprise.
"To see the Star Trek thingy." He knew that would keep her interest long enough for him to get her to her hotel.
"Ohhh, that is soooo cool!" She grabbed her purse. "Let me get my purse."
"...You have your purse."
"I have to pee." She held out her hands in the universal sign of peace. "I'm just saying."
"I can imagine." He glanced to the beers. "Come on..it's over here."
"What is over here?" She looked around her suspiciously, twirling from one side to the other, seeing nothing 'suspicious'.
"The John. You have to pee, right?" He directed her slowly..matching his steps to her rather lop-sided ones.
"Well, there is a more delicate way to say that, surely!" She gasped indignantly.
"I'll wait out here. Can you manage?"
"Can I manage what?" She demanded he explain himself.
He looked around for assistance. "...Angela..could you help?" He asked the wife of one of the cop's sitting at a near-by table.
The woman got up, coming over the few steps. "Hi, Jim..what's going on?"
"What's going on..." Haley broke into Marvin Gaye's song.. "What's going on.."
"Could you..eh..." Brass apologized with his expression. "She has to...you know." He motioned with his head to the door.
"Picket lines...sister...picket signs ..punish me... with brutality ..talk to me..so you can see..what's going on.. Ooooohhh!" The girl swayed to the beat of an imaginary band in her head.
Angela laughed her amusement. "I got this." The man was assured, taking his charge in tow.
"Her name is Haley." Jim supplied.
"Come on, Haley...I'll help you reach your objective." The woman was highly amused at the Agent's state but more so, Jim thought..his predicament.
He could live with that. He sighed, taking the good-natured ribbing in his stride from the other cops at the same table.
Jim listened to Croce's Time In A Bottle, leaning against the wall to the small corridor that housed the bathrooms for the bar. He didn't have long to wait.
"Here you go, Captain. All your's." Angela turned the woman over to the man's capable hands. "Haley..you have a very pretty voice. Thank you for serenading me."
"You know what?" The younger woman wanted to know.
"No..what?" Angela played along.
"I'm going to find that bastard and stake his ass to the ground!"
"Ok..you should probably do just that then." Angela agreed readily.
"I will! And then he will be very sorry..you just wait and see!"
"I'm sure he will."
"Thanks, Angie.." Brass nodded his gratitude.
"Just like Kolshak did!"
"That's great..you show him, honey."
"Damned straight." Haley pointed a positive finger at the woman. "I like you. I won't stake you..not in a million years."
"Good." Angela smiled at Jim Brass. "You got her?"
"I got her." Brass had a strong grasp on Haley's arm, guiding her to the exit of the club.
"Call us..we'll do a BBQ or something." Angela called after the two retreating figures.
"Ohh, I love BBQ." Haley was suddenly hungry. "Make mine a double." She motioned to the bartender on her way out.
"Here we go..watch your step." Brass gently ushered her through the large double doors out into the cool night air.