EYES WIDE OPEN
Morelli's POV
Chapter 6
oOoOo
I had my head in my hands, reviewing my last twenty four hours. How the hell did things go to shit so fast? Here I am, in the Morrisville Police Department, copping frowns and glares from passing staff and cops. I'm not sure I like this, it feels quite weird being on the other side of the law, again, just like when I was arrested for that Murder One frame-up in Trenton. That was a bum rap. Déjà vu. Assholes.
After the charging process, I was shoved into a cell by myself. I knew that wasn't going to last for long. When the first couple of prisoners started trickling in, I was standing along the long side, my back against the wall, watching my new cell mates as they arrived, assessing them with my arms folded across my chest. I scowled at them and they backed away. I was glad they left me alone. I know I looked a bit ragged going by the mug shots, which the photographer relished in showing me.
"Here you go, looking like a seasoned crim. Ha! Not some hot shot wannabe Jersey detective now, eh? Sucks to be you." Inwardly I cringed, but outwardly I maintained my cop face with an edge of surliness.
The Charge Sergeant had been just as bad. He insisted I had to do a breathalyser which I thought was a stupid fucking idea, so I refused. He had already threatened me with a stun gun earlier when they brought me in from the van, muttering he really would prefer to taser me when I wouldn't stop raging. He dared me to carry on. I decided to shut up. Christ! I was so pissed off. They arrested me! After all she had done. Two fucking vehicles burning! I just ignored him, but decided it was in my best interests to calm down. He was happy to arrange the blood test alternative. Besides, not having any allies here at the MPD, that limited my options. Fuck! I had no options. Shit!
Reluctantly, I agreed to the breathalyser. I didn't have much choice. Fuck! It seems I registered over the limit. I wasn't drunk! I can hold my liquor. I guess not eating while I had a few beers for breakfast, after a night of debauchery and sexy fun with one of my favourite girls didn't help. I did eat some pizza but that was earlier. Shit! That alone would have put me over the limit. A couple of bottles of red wine and some beers. Fuck! It's all Stephanie's fault. I deliberately avoided the toll bridge just in case they decided to have a random breath test check point. Yeah. I figured I might be over the limit. Hindsight and all that shit. I would not have been there but she had to crash her car on the other side. I recognised her POS instantly. I had to go over and investigate. Okay. I ranted instead. Two cars! Two burning cars! How does she do this all the time? What the hell was she doing going into Pennsylvania?
So, driving under the influence was added to my charge list, with resisting arrest, interfering in an investigation, obstructing justice and assault. Yeah. Just my lucky fucking day. Sucks to be me, for which they took great pleasure in reminding me.
"Ah. I see you already have your prints in the system. Hm. Joseph Anthony Morelli. How interesting. That is you, isn't it?" I didn't respond to that, just staring at him with a deadpan expression. He ignored me anyway, but went on relentlessly. "Hm. Says here you were wanted for Murder One. Ooh. Someone's been a bad boy."
"Read on, asshole. It will also say I was cleared of any convictions. I was framed."
"Huh. So it does. You failed to appear in court and your innocence was proven after the BEA, one Stephanie Plum, captured you in the freezer truck with all the evidence that cleared you. Hm. Quite resourceful this BEA. A frosty delivery to the Trenton PD. Are we talking about the same Stephanie Plum? The one who rescued the Chief's brother and sister? Well, well, well."
He chuckled. I sneered at him. Funny ha-ha. I was so glad to get away from him. Fucker. What's with all this going on about Stephanie? Is there a Stephanie Plum Fan Club? How do they know all about her? Oh shit. That couple. They were the MPD Chief's family? Shit. Can this day get any worse? It seems I spoke too soon.
Back in the cell, somehow one of my new cellmates figured I was a cop. He'd seen my "illustrious performance" (his words) on social media, from the accident scene, where he saw it all happen. Well, I did kind of declare out loud that I was a detective. He told the others about the fucking pool table. Great. Just my luck. I get to be the cell laughing stock and their punching bag.
I didn't recognise any of them, that at least was a relief. Alas, it was short lived. They whispered in a huddle and started laughing, glancing at me and laughing some more.
The other prisoners in my cell had already given me a working over, mainly body punches and to the kidneys. Full of bravado. But one punk wanted to exact a more fitting revenge, as he called it, giving me a black eye. I had to fight back, trying to keep out of that corner. Little did they know I had bar room brawls in my experiential repertoire, from before joining the police, so I got some good punches in, until the duty sergeant broke things up.
Finally, I get my one phone call. Bail. Shit. Who do I call? Not mum - she'd have to put the house up as collateral again, and she wasn't happy about that last time. I considered my options.
Who shall I call?
Terry?
Joyce?
Cupcake? Pfft. Not a good idea. Besides, she's not answering her phone. Oh. Fuck. It probably was in the car. Maybe not. Apparently, she made the first responder emergency calls. Well. Can't blame her I suppose. She's probably blocked me.
I considered my list. My brother can't afford to bail me.
Mooch is only renting.
Sandra? No. Her husband would want to know. Shit.
Jacinta? Hmm. Nah. Too new. That leaves me only one option.
I made my call. Thank goodness she was agreeable. Because my car was impounded she willingly drove me home, going past Maccas for some breakfast McMuffins and pancakes. And coffee. I really needed a large coffee.
I opened the front door only to be greeted happily by Bob. Frantically was probably a better way to describe his actions. He nearly bowled me over. Oh, poor Bob. I patted him but then he dashed outside, in a hurry. Of course, he had to pee. He pissed against the lamp post, the longest piss I'd ever seen him take. Jeez, that lasted almost a minute. "Good boy, Bob." Wagging his tail, he sniffed around tracking visitors that may have left pee-mails for him to check out. Ah shit! He had to have a shit. Damnit, Bob! Not on the new neighbour's postage stamp-sized patch of carefully manicured lawn. Bob was so pleased with himself he did his usual dig-dig strut routine after a satisfied dump, ripping up some of the lawn in the process. After a few more times cocking his leg he wandered over to me, wagging his tail happily, just as a van parked by the kerb.
Oh hell. Is this Be Nice To Morelli Week or something? The dog ranger came out already with his charge book.
"You need to pick that up. Your neighbour complained and I just happened to be in the neighbourhood. It must be your lucky day. Here is a nice infringement fine, and a baggy to pick up your dog's dump. For being off leash, there's another penalty," as he checked the boxes, with a smile. Asshole. The fucker was enjoying his job. He looked at me pointedly, then at the doggie dump two houses up, and back at me. He called Bob over to him with the lure of a treat, and clicked him on a leash while I picked up his monster dump. Ugh! Foul.
"Lucky for you his dog registration is current. You can return the leash when you come in to pay the fine, at the courthouse. There you go," he said as he handed over my infringement slip and Bob on the leash. "Have a nice day. Oh," he said, as he glanced at my open front door, "Interesting redecorating you have there. It's a bit early for Halloween, don'tcha think?" The asshole chuckled as he hopped in his van and drove away.
I was confused. Looking at my house, something was hanging off the porch light. Before I could check, a truck tooted as it raced past my house sending a red projectile flying past my head, like a sling shot, instantly making me duck on impulse, amid a lot of jeering and laughter. It landed on my porch. Bob happily pounced on the red projectile, shaking it in his mouth, happy with his new prized toy. What the fuck!? A red bra? I glanced up at the light and there were two more bras and a thong hooked over it. Fuck! Looking around to see if the neighbours saw, I quickly snatched them off the porch light, growling. What kind of idiot does this?
I shoved Bob through the front door, bending down to undo the leash as I tried to kick the door shut. Before I could hang it on the coat rack, the overwhelming stench of dog shit wrapped around my nose. Oh, hell no. He's been cooped up inside while I had to wait to be bailed. Fuck. As I stood up, covering my mouth, my head hit something. What the hell? Bob was so excited, still salivating with his red prize dangling from his drooling mouth. I couldn't believe what it was. Someone had made a line decoration of a variety of lingerie, mostly bras, zigzagging down my passage and into the sitting room.
Lula came barging through the front door muttering about me slamming the door in her face. I was speechless.
"Well, that's a nice way to say 'thank you Honey Bee, for bailing you out. Oh! My Lord! Fuck! What is that foul smell?!" She covered her mouth and nose and stepped back. It was pretty gross.
"Oh my God! What's with this Joe? Why are my things on this line? And whose are the others?"
Shit. She's right. That's her spandex alright. No mistaking which thong was hers!
"I know we are not exclusive, Joe, but you're an ass. An A-class motherfucking asshole. Is this your idea of funny? I'm outa here! Go fuck yourself, Morelli!"
As a parting gesture she angrily yanked at the lingerie line, the tape immediately ripping off a large section of paint. Damn. Now I'm going to have to paint the wall.
I sighed, frustrated, running my hands through my hair as she slammed the door. I can't believe this shit. Lula had devoured all her food in the car. Luckily, I had eaten my egg McMuffin on the way and drank my coffee. I guess the pancakes are still in her car. But now, the stench was making me ready to barf. It was beyond foul. I have to open the windows and the back door.
I took stock of the situation. Fuck! I just saw the rest of the lingerie, recognising my trophies from at least five of my other favourite girls. I know. I'm a sick fuck. I recognised Terry's expensive set, Stephanie's sexy black boy shorts, Joyce's lacy red and crotchless set, Jacinta's hot pink push up bra and there was Sandra's pretty sheer blue set. There were more pieces belonging to them. Shit. Who would have done this?
Holy fuck! What a mess! I just saw the rest of the room as I proceeded along the lingerie line. Someone was really pissed off as I saw how the room was totally trashed. Couch cushions all over the place. All my bedding was spread all over the floor along with my clothes. Yeah! Someone was really pissed off. Sheesh! I might have overplayed my Italian Stallion routine. Bob had shat in a number of places, including on my clothes. Fuck! Yikes, my precious sex toys. I still had my mouth and nose covered with my t-shirt. Oh no! Bob had chewed on a couple of the dildoes! My baseball mitt! Fuck! My Catch of the Day baseball! Fuck. He's chewed that as well. Shredded. I almost wanted to cry. The need for fresh air won out, as my eyes were watering anyway. I reached the back door and then opened up the windows. Bob gallivanted outside before prancing happily inside, inviting me to have a tug-of-war with his red prize. I saw his muddy paw prints over all my bedding along with the big well-chewed bone.
First things first. Gagging and eyes watering, I picked up a total of five Bob turds. Damnit. I put that bag in the bin outside. I grabbed some air freshener and sprayed the entire room, until the can was empty.
From the laundry I grabbed some large black plastic bags. Hm. I don't think Ma would appreciate me bringing these home for her to wash. Yikes. That might be pushing my luck a bit too far. I could go to the laundromat, I suppose. But that would literally be like airing my dirty washing!
I bagged the bedding stuff. One of the pillows seems to have "exploded" and there was stuffing everywhere. Bob must have been bored. At least he had water and someone must have fed him. I filled his water bowl and put some dry food in his dinner bowl which he inhaled. Yeah. He was hungry. It was a good diversion to get him away from all the fun stuff. His new prized possession was close to his feet. There was no way he was relinquishing that. Ha. Bob has a trophy too. He growled at me as I tried to remove it. Okay. Bob keeps the cute red bra. Damnit! He'd been in the kitchen bin and eaten something from a casserole dish. Manicotti! I bagged all that trash too and put it outside.
My clothes, minus the shit, went into another bag. Systematically I worked my way through the room. Items that were salvageable I placed in my laundry hamper. I replaced all the couch cushions. Bit by bit the room started to look reasonable for habitation. Bathroom things went back upstairs. I'll have to sleep on the spare room bed. If it's still there. Phew. Thankfully, that room was untouched. As I went down the stairs I realised that none of Cupcake's things were here. Nothing.
I went down to the basement and put a load of laundry in the machine. I added disinfectant rinse to the final rinse cycle. Going back up the stairs I proceeded to dismantle the lingerie line, bit by bit, trying to remove the duct tape carefully. Oh! What the hell! I already have to paint the passage. I just yanked the rest off haphazardly. Shit. What a disaster.
It was late by the time I finished bagging and binning the trash. The lingerie line went in the trash as well. I placed the bin outside, ready for tomorrow's collection day. That was fortunate.
A shower was desperately needed after dealing with all that crap. I double scrubbed my body to make sure, my hair too, to get the lingering shitty smell from my nostrils. There was nothing in the fridge to eat, so I went to grab my keys. Damnit. No car. It's still impounded. I'll have to get Anthony or Mooch to drop me off tomorrow, hopefully. I dialled for pizza delivery, going into the fridge for a couple of beers. Shit. No beer. I dialled for a six pack delivery as well.
Sprawling on the couch after cleaning up, I was ready for sleep. I was worn out. It had been a bad day. There was no game on. I was just channel surfing, but nothing captured my attention. I went upstairs after closing all the windows and checking the locks, letting Bob out for his final constitutional, his red trophy happily in his mouth.
I went upstairs to the spare room. My sleep was not forthcoming even though I was physically worn out. Finally, I fell into a restless sleep.
Early next morning I was awoken by my phone ringing. All thoughts of a pleasant conversation went out the door. Someone is not happy with me.
oOoOo
TBC
My Muse is chuckling wickedly. She and Karma like playing together. They have a wicked sense of humour and felt most justified with their mischief. Bob was a willing participant. He is so easy. Red is his favourite colour. Enough said.
