Frankie's Adventure, Chapter 2
By Simahoyo
Frankie sneaked into the morgue, looking for Maura. She looked up from some files she was writing in, and frowned.
"What? You don't look too happy to see me."
She closed the file, giving him one of her unnerving looks. "I have learned that whenever any Rizzoli except Jane comes in here looking over their shoulder, that they have a secret. And they will somehow get me into the middle of it, and then because all of you upstairs know I can't lie, someone always tries to get me to tell them. So, whatever it is, I don't want to know about it unless it is work related."
He sighed. He had known that one day she would run out of patience with the lot of them. "Ok Maura. Could I use the computer in your office?"
"Yes. Close it down when you finish. And don't tell me about it."
"Look, I don't blame you for being annoyed with us. We do drag you into the middle of our stuff. And I will try to remember to knock when I go to your place." He knew her complaint list pretty well, having hear it multiple times. He also knew from recent events that unlike the Rizzoli clan, Maura had a long fuse with a big explosion at the end. "I'll just be in the..." he started to her office, as she nodded, then smiled to show she wasn't mad, just annoyed.
When he typed in Adela's name, he found an alphabet soup after her name. The lady was educated. He was surprised to discover she was not Italian, but American Indian. Then he found two paid parking tickets, and an arrest at a protest against the city's policy to stop, "Food Not Bombs" feeding people in the park. Some cops would have dropped her for that, but he thought it was cool, and showed she had a big heart, like his Ma. When he finished, he closed the computer, poked his head in to thank Maura, and went back to work.
He didn't hear from Adela for over two weeks, so Frankie decided to practice his detective skills, and look for her. He started with the overpass where he met her. There were some homeless guys there, but not the one Adela had helped. He remembered the Food Bank nearby, dodged traffic, even though he was wearing his uniform and crossing with the light, and started up the street. It was about 3 blocks up where he saw the people congregated in front of the neat, but nondescript building. As he walked up, he noticed the people move away from him. He went in the door, where the crowd was thick, sitting in folding chairs and standing in line. Volunteers stood behind a gate and curved counter, passing out numbers. As the people turned and saw him, they jerked away from him, glaring. A little girl burst into tears, pointing at him.
A man with a clerk's apron over his jeans and t shirt ran toward him, waving him out of the place.
Frankie backed out, wondering what on earth was wrong. "Hey, do I have the plague or something? What's the deal here?"
"The city did a homeless sweep last night, and most of our clients lost their survival gear, Medicaid cards and food stamps. Police uniforms are not too popular in there today."
"Oh man. I wondered what I did. I never had to do one of those, but I have a buddy who did, and he hated it. Actually, I'm looking for Adela Osceola. I was helping her with something. Do you know where I could find her?"
The guy in the apron grinned, a gold tooth glittering. "Oh, Della. Sure, she's probably at the Mental Health Clinic. She has clients on Wednesdays and Fridays. It's the one over on Walnut.
Know the place?"
"Yeah, I do. Thanks. And sorry about the homeless sweep. I hate the things."
Frankie drove to the clinic, going inside the green walled waiting room, and up to the reception desk. An efficient looking lady was sitting there typing stuff into her computer. He leaned over and got her attention. "Hi, I'm looking for Adela Osceola. "
Her fingers stopped typing. She looked at him with amber eyes that danced with amusement.
"Did Della lead another protest?"
Frankie felt his eyebrows raising. Adela seemed like a real hellraiser. And everyone seemed to like her. "Nope, just checking on one of her clients. Herald Ivarsen."
"Well, you know the privacy laws won't let me say anything about anyone. But she's with a client right now and should be done any minute. You can take a chair. There are magazines, but none of there are newer than 3 years ago."
Frankie was just sitting down when the office door opened, and a clean cut man with dark blonde hair, wearing a suit. It was the second look when he recognized the man as Herald Ivarsen. Frankie closed his mouth before he made a fool of himself. Adela followed Ivarsen, wearing a skirt and a white blouse that looked professional, but feminine. As Ivarsen left, she turned and smiled at Frankie.
"Officer Rizzoli. Hi. Are you checking up on me?" She was flirting as she said it, her voice turning the words to honey.
Frankie smiled back. "You never called, and I missed you. Wondered what you were up to lately."
She leaned in the door way. "If I told you that, you might want to arrest me."
"Then help a poor cop with a personal conflict. I'd rather ask you out than arrest you. What should I do?"
"Oh, definitely ask me out. I much prefer it to being arrested." Here her voice dipped low like Diana Rigg, and his toes almost curled. My God, it was indescribable.
Frankie walked toward her, eyes on hers, brown to brown, seeking her warmth. Janie had always warned him never to ask a woman to a movie on a first date because it showed a lack of imagination. So, Frankie went for multiple choice. "Okay, Choose one of these: A Red Sox game, a picnic in Copley Square Park during a concert night, or American Car and Truck Day."
Adela raised her eyebrows. "I'm impressed. You gave me a choice, and all the choices are different. I pick the Car and Truck day. It will be a change from the canoes and air boats I grew up with. I'm going to assume that with your job, and mine, we might have to postpone if any work emergency happens. So, when is this Car and Truck Day?"
"It's this Sunday. Does that work for you?" Frankie mentally crossed his fingers.
"Yes, I'm free baring any emergencies. And I like cars. Any special dress code?"
"Yeah, don't laugh, but they encourage everyone to wear red, white and blue."
"Ah, a patriotic car and truck show. Okay." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her card, handing it to him. "Here's my number. Hope you're better at calling than I was."
As Frankie walked to his car, he sort of floated over the pavement. This one, Frost was not going to meet.