Not my characters, just my story. I only wish I owned Pete. The story is best read if you've seen the series and know the characters. If you haven't seen it lately, watch, enjoy.
A Lifetime in Eight Days
Chapter 3: The Proof in the Vinyl
An uneasy silence stretched between the man and woman occupying the front seat of Lieutenant Jacoby's squad car. He'd explained the situation to Edie, told her everything there was to tell about the circumstances surrounding Pete's disappearance. Almost everything. As was the case during his conversation with Mother, he'd omitted a few specific details, though where Edie was concerned he wasn't certain how long he'd be able to hold out before she started asking questions. She was very good with the questions. This he knew from listening to the sometimes exasperating conversations she and Pete shared. But Jacoby had some questions of his own, and even though he pretty much knew what her responses would be he still needed to ask them. Had Edie talked to Pete lately? No. Had she seen him at all in the past several days? That one earned him an inscrutable look and a shake of the head. Now he sat drumming his fingers silently on the steering wheel while she stared out the front window of the car. A steady rain had moved in as they talked, blurring the windshield and giving the inside of the car a ghostly appearance as it sat beneath the neon of Mother's tall sign. The rivulets of water trickling down the windshield were reflected on Edie's face, making it difficult for Jacoby to differentiate between them and the streaks of tears he knew were also there.
"Look, Edie-" Jacoby's gentle voice finally broke the silence. He hunched his shoulders and folded his arms over the top of the steering wheel, moving his gaze to the same bleak street scene that Edie was staring at. "I know Pete's not-" He paused, treading lightly, trying to choose his words carefully. "I realize you and Pete aren't together right now and it's not your responsibility to have to worry about-"
Her watery hiccup of a sob interrupted him.
"My responsibility? Of course it's my responsibility. He's Pete and I'll always worry about him. I've been doing nothing else since-" Her voice trailed off. With the palms of her hands she wiped at the silent tears running down her cheeks. Then wrapping her arms around herself she turned her head to stare out the side window toward the front door of the club. More silence.
"You know," Jacoby tried again after a short while, "whatever it was Pete did, I know if it were possible he'd turn back the clock and try to do it all over again some other way. There's no way in the world he would ever do anything to purposely hurt you." He knew he was probably butting in where he wasn't wanted, and that what happened personally between Peter Gunn and Edie Hart had nothing to do with the big picture of Pete's current whereabouts. But frankly he really had no idea what to say to this woman at this precise moment.
"Pete didn't do anything."
The policeman turned his head to look at her but she kept her face averted. The corner of the window fogged up as Edie sighed and leaned her forehead against the cool glass. After a few minutes she dropped her head to the seatback and stared out the windshield again.
"What aren't you telling me?"
There it was. Jacoby knew it would only be a matter of time and she certainly didn't disappoint. Her question was one he wished he could sidestep and he desperately wanted to do just that. It would probably be easy enough. But there'd be stuff in the morning paper that would allow her do draw her own conclusions about things he himself didn't even want to think about. He didn't want that. She deserved better, however much it might hurt. Jacoby sighed, briefly considering the best way to answer her question, finally deciding to just be up front and honest. The best policy, right? Sometimes he wondered.
"Those two hoods I asked Pete to talk to..." Jacoby's eyes tightened as he stared through the rainy darkness, a dull ache in his gut. He finally shifted his gaze to the woman next to him. Edie was looking back at him with an unfathomable expression in her blue eyes. "Harbor Patrol pulled their bodies out of the East River earlier this evening. Both shot in the head, probably been dead for as long as Pete's been missing."
Holding his eyes Edie slowly shook her head, swallowing thickly before finding her voice.
"Pete..."
Jacoby shook his head brusquely.
"Don't even think it. We're going to find Pete. I promise." His voice was gruff.
He sighed and dropped back in his seat, rubbing his hand tiredly over his face, knowing he was beyond stupid for making such a promise but needing to take that look off her face. The fact that her expression didn't change told him he had been unsuccessful at allaying her fears.
"This whole thing smells of a set-up..." He turned wearily in his seat to face Edie. "Look, I need you to do something for me."
"Anything. You know I'll do anything for Pete."
Jacoby unlocked the apartment door and ushered Edie in ahead of him. It felt weird. It should have been the other way around. He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably as he shoved his key ring into his coat pocket and followed her down the step and into the living room. In two previous visits to Pete's apartment since his friend's disappearance he hadn't noticed anything out of place nor had he seen any signs that an intruder might have been there. But as he'd confided to Edie, he hadn't exactly been going by police protocol the first time through. He'd been a bit more conscientious in his examination of the premises the second time around but by that time he wasn't really sure what he might be looking for, if anything. He shook his head morosely. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been less professional.
His gaze followed Edie as she lay her purse and coat on the back of the sofa. He'd gone back into the club to get her things for her, giving her a few minutes alone in the car and saving her from having to run the gauntlet of an already aggravated Mother as well as an incensed cadre of musicians. Not to mention Barney, who'd followed him suspiciously back to Edie's dressing room. The atmosphere had been cold to say the least. He'd paused on his way out and turned back to face them all, opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Mother had broken the awkward silence in her usual forceful way. "Just find Pete."
"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for."
Edie's uncertain voice brought Jacoby back to the present. He blinked his eyes into focus and gave her a contemplative stare.
"That makes two of us."
At the troubled look in Edie's eyes he released a long sigh and rubbed at the back of his neck with one calloused hand. Then he removed his hat and dropped it on a side table.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to be facetious. I just–" He gestured, arms outstretched and palms up, indicating the living space around them."I just thought you might be able to see some things that I can't. If something's missing...or out of place. Little things like that. You're much more familiar with Pete's apartment than I am."
"I haven't been here in a while." Her words were soft. She ran gentle fingers over the ivory of the chess set sitting ready for play on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.
"Nothing's changed." Jacoby's heavy-lidded gaze followed her as she moved around the room. "Believe me."
Edie fixed him with a pensive stare, sensitive to the undercurrent in his words. Finally breaking eye contact, she slowly moved to the other side of the room where the phonograph stood open, several record jackets lying next to it. From the corner of her eye she saw Jacoby grab the telephone and begin dialing.
"I need to call the Precinct to find out if there's anything new." He gave her a brief glance and a nod as he sat down on the nearest chair. "Take your time."
She half-listened as he spoke to Sergeant Davis for a few minutes. Most of Jacoby's part of the conversation consisted of monosyllabic answers and grunts. He eventually hung up and got to his feet, buttoning his coat and tying the belt loosely. As he grabbed his hat he indicated that he needed to get back to his office. Edie nodded absently.
"I can't find the records." She turned to him, two record jackets in her hand. "They're not on the player and these are empty."
Jacoby shrugged, uncertain of the relevance as far as something being missing or out of place. Who'd enter someone's apartment only to leave with a couple LPs minus their jackets?
"Maybe he put them back in the wrong sleeves."
"Pete?" Edie raised her eyebrows in disbelief.
This time Jacoby frowned.
"Is there another player anywhere?"
When she shook her head no he reached for the record jackets and looked at them curiously, flipping them over and back again. The Versatile Henry Mancini the one said, the other was something called Brubeck Time. He stuck them under his arm and reached in his pocket for his keys. His brown eyes held a thoughtful expression as they met her gaze.
"I'm not sure these mean anything but I'll take them with me anyway. You ready to go? I can drop you at home on my way."
She shook her head hesitantly, her eyes sliding away from his and darting around the apartment.
"I'd like to stay for a while if it's okay with you."
Jacoby nodded, his expression softening. He silently slipped the key to Pete's apartment, which he'd obtained from the landlord the previous day, off his key ring and laid it on the side table next to the telephone.
"You don't need my permission." He made a move toward the small foyer. "I have an unmarked car watching the building. I'll let the officer know you'll be staying. Pete's keys weren't in his car..." He watched as she settled on the sofa. "Make sure you keep the door locked and the chain on." He quietly studied her for a few moments, his eyes moving over her delicate profile and the soft blond hair curling over her shoulders. "I'll call if we find out anything." He stepped to the door, preparing to leave.
"It just seemed like he was never there anymore."
Edie's velvety-smooth voice brought Jacoby to a sudden stop, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he turned to look at her.
"He was always somewhere else, working on a case." She turned her face toward Jacoby. "I think he was spending more time with his little band of misfits than he was with me. And I guess I was jealous of that...like I am about anything else in his life that doesn't include me." She swallowed and wiped at the sudden wetness on her cheeks. "He tried to tell me things would get better but I wouldn't listen. And I wanted to kill myself when I told him I couldn't do it anymore and I saw the confused look on his face and I knew I should have just been patient and talked to him about it but I couldn't stop and-" Edie knew she was rambling and the tears were coming down harder. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She felt the sofa give under Jacoby's weight as he sat down next to her and she felt the warm strength of his hand covering hers. He laced his fingers with hers, feeling a kindred pain as she leaned her shoulder lightly against his. They sat that way for a while, neither saying anything.
"You know," Jacoby finally interrupted the silence, "despite all his strengths Pete has one very great flaw." He tipped his head and looked into her eyes as she opened them at his quiet words. "He has a habit of caring too much sometimes. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but more often than not it gets him into trouble because he thinks he can just go out there and save the world of every poor soul that comes to him with their problem. And sometimes even he gets overwhelmed."
He sighed and glanced toward the sliding doors leading out onto the small balcony. The rain continued to fall, having turned from a steady shower into a cold thunderstorm at the leading edge of an incoming front, the heavy drops pelting the metal table and chairs sitting outside. He returned his gaze to the woman next to him.
"And that's not his fault, it's just who he is. And once upon a time there really wasn't anyone who noticed enough or who cared enough when that happened."
His grip on her hand tightened.
"Then one day he met you, and you threw him for a real loop. And you still do and you always will. And you know what? Maybe breaking up with him wasn't such a bad thing. Because sometimes he needs a swift kick to that stubborn head of his to set him back on track. All of us men do at one time or another. Just ask my wife, she'll be more than happy to expound on how many times we called it quits before we got married, and after for that matter. It takes a person who really cares to deliver a kick like that. And please believe me when I tell you that Pete understands that." He tried a smile that didn't get very far but he could tell she appreciated the effort. "He's at his happiest and at his best when he's with you. If that wasn't already obvious, the past weeks have been a tell."
Jacoby gave her hand another squeeze, picked up the record jackets he'd placed on the cushion beside him and got back to his feet, his walk to the door much more brisk this time. He looked over his shoulder at her as he opened the door.
"Remember what I said about the locks," he reminded. "Call me if you need anything. If I'm not at the Precinct somebody'll be able to find me." The door clicked shut behind him.