Mon. 07:40: An attractive cop, with her blond
hair tied in a bun, approached the house. Max stepped out on the stoop to sit
down. He greeted her, lifting a cup of coffee and tried to imagine what she’d
look like with her hair down… “Good morning officer.”
She stood facing Max, poised feet planted
apart, with her note pad out and asked, “Did you see what happened?”
“Naw, I was in bed when I heard the crash,”
damn, he thought, why am I covering for Nick, of all people?
“You must have seen someone leaving the scene
over there.” she scowled. She knew Max wasn’t telling the truth.
“I’m on my first cup of mud.” Still in his robe he could have very well
appeared to have been sipping on that first cup of coffee in the morning to
anyone else. In truth, he’d been home for two hours after the graveyard shift
typing out a daily meditation he liked to e-mail to his sponsor. He was
actually holding his third cup. “I usually set the coffee machine before I go
to bed…” at least that was the truth.
“Look, you don’t have to cover for Baker…” she
said.
He detected a Mona Lisa smirk of
acknowledgement… a sense that she knew what Nick was about and knew about how
someone in the DA’s office had been protecting him.
“Honest, I didn’t see anything.”
So much for my AA program… rigorous honesty, he
thought, except when it is harmful to yourself or others. But he sensed she had
more than a mild distaste for the whole business and maybe she would be eager
to put an end to it.
“Ryan told me all about you before… I’m Casey,
Irene Casey,” she handed Max a card. “If you start remembering what you saw,
let me know.”
Damn, he thought, she’d become as friendly as
she was good looking, “You work with Ryan?”
“No, but we're good friends. He tells me
things… you know, just a few tid-bits.” She put a hand on the seat of the Rebel
and patted it. “Nice bike. I like these Hondas. I had one as a learner bike and
preferred it to the Harley my husband bought me. This is an older one too. What
year?”
“Eighty-nine.” Max said, thinking… how
unprofessional. Women, they always say something to let you know they are
married or have a boyfriend…they do that if they want you to know when they are
friendly that they are doing business and not flirting… apparently, even with a
badge. Max had an overwhelming desire to be honest with this particular cop but
knew that he could get his ass in a wringer if he told her too much… so, he
lied again, “Look, I did see something. But I don’t want it… you know, what I
tell you to get around… you know, they say, ‘off the record’?”
She tucked her note pad in her pocket and
snorted unlady-like, “I’m a cop, not a reporter but, you have my word.”
“I saw him cut through that parking lot towards
State Street,” he lied again. He couldn’t trust her with what he knew. Check her out some more. “You know an Officer
Richards? What do you think of him?”
Her eyes went into a squint. He’d asked
something that was too personal. She'd already crossed the professional line so
she answered, “I don’t work with him. But you have to be honest with me if you
want to keep this ‘off the record’.”
Max thought, what the hell, I might as well
take a chance, “I’ll get down with the truth if you get honest with me.” She could be on my side. At least she might
not want to cover for Nick.
“You’re supposed to trust me, I’m the cop,” she
said with a thumb pressing the badge out from her shirt.
“I haven’t had too much luck with that one. You
might have heard.”
“I’m married to Richards…” she offered her
hidden truth.
“But your name tag says Casey… Now, how can I
trust you?”
“We’re separated… getting a divorce. I took
back my name.” She tried to assure Max that this meant something, “Look, I know
I oughtn’t to let you know about my private life but…”
“But you want me to be honest with you now?”
his mind was in high gear… it was a futile high-speed chase... he sped through
what she was telling him… running every stop sign that told him it was
dangerous to let her know what he knew. “Yes, it was Nick, but I don’t know
where he’d go,” he murmured.
“Thanks, I think I can work with you on this…
I’m a friend of Teresa,” she said as she suddenly saddled the bike, sat
comfortably on it leaning forward, holding the hand grips as though she were
riding it and then, just as smartly, dismounted, slyly smiling, added, “and
Ryan too.”
“If I were a cop I’d be checking on Adrienne’s
place. He’ll end up there eventually.”
Max shook his head to dismiss what he was
thinking as she walked back to the squad car… It was just a passing thought,
but her ass looked fine enough under those regulation police belts, gear and
slacks. He could detect that slight and wondrous female sway her equipment belt
couldn’t hide… the movement of hips that cops of her gender try to flatten out
in their gait when they walk. No, not this one, he turned and went back to his
desk thinking, “No real female companionship in my life since I got sober…” She
wasn’t his type, but he wondered when he’d ever have a woman to warm his bed
regularly. He picked up the phone and called his sponsor, Jimbo, and told him
all about the gorgeous female cop.
No comments:
Post a Comment