One of the steadfast traditions of the detective novel is the dogged, world-weary cop partner. How to update the role, give it a twenty-first century twist, and still keep it true to origin might have been a challange--if it wasn't for Jack. Read on, and you'll see what I mean.
“Ms. Post.” The desk sergeant’s eyes scanned up and down, lingered on my oversized purse. “Detective Waters didn’t mention you’d be stopping by this afternoon.”
“Probably because he didn’t know.” Familiar with the routine, I turned my bag upside down and dumped the contents on the counter. “Got a lead I need his help with. He’s not in the field, is he?”
Picking up a pen, the sergeant poked through the debris on the desk, harrumphed at the three tubes of lipstick. “Nah. Doing his fives. Likes to let them get knee deep before he gets around to them.” Satisfied there were no bombs, weapons or hidden baked goods, he grunted and handed me a visitor’s pass. “You know the way.”
I swept an arm over the desk, shoving everything back in the bag. After clipping the badge to my dress, I headed up the stairs toward the bullpen. Two patrolmen passed me, one of them whistling. His partner, thirty years older and twice as jaded, slapped him on the back of his head. “Idiot. Waters will beat your brains in he catches you doing that.”
I’d stopped by my office, scrubbed off the makeup and gotten rid of the contacts. The tan would take a day or two to fade. In the rush to get out the door after letting Jack “help” me, I’d forgotten a change of clothes. The white linen dress would get plenty of mileage today.
Weaving my way through the bullpen, I acknowledged the waves, rolling my eyes at Doyle’s over the top wolf whistle. I made a point to know the other detectives, at least their names and faces. Jack filled me in on gossip from time to time. Never knew what string I’d need to pluck for information.
Jack sat at his desk, his back to me. He’d tossed his jacket over the back of the chair where it now hung crooked, one sleeve dragging the floor. The back of his collar was flipped up, the bright blue tie visible from across the room. As I watched, he balled a piece of paper up and launched it toward the waste bin. He missed by a mile, cursed a blue streak.
“Guess you won’t be playing one on one with your buddy from the Knicks.” I dropped my bag on the floor next to his chair and straightened his collar. He stiffened under my hands, his pen dropping from his fingers. “Although you could probably take him, since he’s got the bum knee.”
“Frankie.” Jack leaned his head back until our eyes met. “This is unexpected.”
“Had an urge.” I gave his shoulders a squeeze, sliding around him to lean against the desk. “You eat lunch yet?”
“If you call a cup of bad coffee and vending machine crackers lunch, then yeah, I did.” He gathered papers together, shoving them into folders. “Everything go okay this morning?”
“It went. I told Casey Lynn to head back there tonight and to wear her wire.” Scooping up a handful of pens, I dumped them in a broken coffee cup. “I also told her she could put the wire on herself.”
“Bet she took that piece of news real gracious-like.” Jack swiveled the chair to face me, stroking his chin. I sighed and leaned forward to fix his tie until it hung straight. “You stop by the bank?”
“On my way here. You?”
“Did it when I left the apartment this morning.” His hand lifted to tuck my hair behind my ear. His fingers played lightly over my earring. “What’d you really come here for, Frankie?”
“I told you. Came to see if you’d had lunch.” I tugged on his tie and smirked. “And see if you want to go hang out in a strip club later.”
“You always want to go to the most interesting places.” He sighed and shot a look at his desk. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Trailer Park.” I stood, tugging my dress back into place. “I’m feeling nostalgic.”
“You go ahead. Give me five minutes.” He opened a folder, snarling at the contents. “Damn paperwork.”
“Nope. I know you and paperwork.” Grabbing his hand, I yanked, which did nothing but cause me to wobble on my heels. “You’re coming with me.”
“Jesus, Frankie.” Jack shook his head and pushed to his feet. Nipping the edge of his jacket, he slid his arms in, rolling his shoulders to settle it in place. “Any more quirks of character you want to indulge in while we’re here?”
Scooping my bag up, I shrugged. “Well, since you asked.” I spun on my heels, clutched his lapels, both for dramatic effect and for balance. His eyes widened in shock a half second before I pulled his mouth down to mine. His hands fisted against my side briefly before flexing, grasping my hips and pulling me close.
I stumbled, clung tighter, even as all the blood rushed out of my head, leaving it spinning. My pulse pounded wildly, echoing in my ears. His teeth nipped at my lower lip and I whimpered, forgetting for the briefest of moments where we were.
The wolf whistles and applause reminded me.
Jack pulled back enough to draw a ragged breath, resting his forehead against mine. “What happened to discretion? To plausible deniability?”
“Fuck it.” I stepped back, running shaking hands over his jacket. “Let’s take a chance.”
Laughing, he nudged me with his hand against the small of my back. “We’re already doing that by going to the Trailer Park.”
The Tenth Precinct occupies a block stuffed with restaurants, bars, health clubs and everything else native New Yorkers need to live. The Trailer Park Lounge and Grill is a block up and half block in the precinct and a hundred worlds away. Neither of us had been so close to home in fifteen years.
“So why did you really come to the station, Frankie?” Jack waited until our server, rude and surly in a way you can only get away with in New York, dropped our plates in front of us. He picked up a tater tot, studied it before crunching into the crisp potato. “And don’t give me any lines about impulses and urges.”
“I told you. I came to see if you wanted lunch and if you wanted to hang out in a strip club tonight.” I wiped burger juice from my chin, chewing slowly. “The strip club where Samantha Abernathy works.”
“Samantha Abernathy. One of Audrey Clark’s roommates.” Jack dusted his burger with salt and pepper and cut it in half. “I did a prelim with her and ran her. Didn’t come up with anything employment related.”
“She’s getting paid off the books.” I swallowed and reached for my drink. “I ran her vehicle info through the system. She’s gotten six parking tickets in the past three months, all from the same area. The only things down around there are strip clubs and crack houses. Considering the fact she’s also been making weekly deposits in excess of a grand, sometimes close to two, I don’t think she’s down there for the crack houses.”
“I won’t ask how you got into her bank account.”
“Johnny needs the money. Maria’s holding out this time.” I pushed the tots around on my plate before dousing them with ketchup. “He actually had to stay in a flop motel last night.”
“Kid’s gonna kill himself before he’s thirty. Any idea which place she’s stripping at?” Jack gazed longingly at the Pabst can on the server’s tray. He still had another three hours before he was off duty. “Because I’m not spending the entire evening wandering around the red light district.”
“I’ve got Casey Lynn tailing her. Based on the time stamps on the parking tickets, Samantha’s working the early evening shift. Casey Lynn will have plenty of time to follow her and report in before getting all dolled up to go out.”
“What’d you tell her about last night?”
“Food poisoning.” Licking ketchup off my fingers, I glanced at the table next to us. “Not from here. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” I waited until they turned back to their food. “She apologized for being bitchy.”
“What are you going to tell her when we leave?” Jack pushed his plate away, balled his napkin up and tossed it toward the table. He missed, the paper landing on the floor. “Or are we not saying anything?”
“If they know enough to come looking for us, they’ll know enough to question her.” Appetite gone, I shoved my own plate toward the center of the table. “We can’t tell her the truth.”
“She’s too smart to believe a lie.” Jack’s eyes bored into me. “Unless we start telling it now.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Jack started to reach into his pocket and hesitated. He cursed, then yanked a small box out. “Here. You’ll say no, so I don’t know why the hell I’m asking.”
“You’re not asking anything. You’re throwing shit at me.” Still, I picked the box up, turning it over in my hands. “You haven’t given me jewelry since…”
“Since the summer we turned sixteen. When I gave you the necklace.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at his earlobe. “Yeah, I know. First, I couldn’t, because we didn’t have the money. Then, when we did---”
“I wouldn’t take it. Because we never knew when we’d wind up running again.” The hand in my lap shook, even while the one holding the box stayed steady. “And what’s the point in having something I’d have to leave behind with the old name?”
“Open the box, Frankie.”
“I’m scared.” Shocked, not because of how I felt, but because I’d admitted to it. I flicked my tongue over dry lips. “I got a feeling of what’s inside. And I don’t mind sayin’ I’m scared shitless.”
“Open the box, Frankie.” Jack scrubbed his palms over his face. “Whatever you say, we’ll figure this out. Just maybe I want one thing real in all the lies we tell.”
“We already have one real thing. We have us.”
“Fine. I want something that tells everybody else this is real.” Yanking the box from my slack fingers, he flipped the lid open himself and shoved it back at me. The diamond inside sparkled, maybe more so than it should have in the low light and tacky surroundings. “Frankie, look at me.”
I tore my eyes away from the ring, trying to blink away the sparkles clinging stubbornly to my vision. Jack reached across the table, taking my hand. His trembled and he cleared his throat.
“We’re not our parents. You’re not your mama, weak and foolish, and you’re not mine, cold and rigid. I’m not your daddy, who left you, or Bill, who did his best to use you, or my daddy, who had more pride and stubbornness than brains.”
“You could argue about the stubborn bit.” The joke fell flat between us.
“I made you a promise I’d never leave you. This ring—it doesn’t change that, doesn’t change us.”
“I’m scared.” The words were easier to say this time, even though my mouth was still dry as cotton. “I’ve never been as good as you. Some’d say I’ve never been good for you. I’m scared one day you’ll wake up and realize it.”
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are foolish. You’re sure as shit talking stupid right now.” Jack pulled the ring from the cushion and grabbed my hand. Before I had the brains to jerk away, he’d jammed the circle onto my finger. “You can be scared. I’m so scared myself it’s a wonder I haven’t fainted clear away. But I’d say us being scared together is a helluva lot better than being scared apart.”
I stared at the ring, twisting my hand, watching the diamond catch the light. The weight was heavy, foreign. Despite the knot in my stomach, it felt right. “You must have been saving all that up for a while.”
“A bit.” He laced his fingers through mine, running his thumb over my knuckles. “I don’t hear you saying no.”
Sighing, I squeezed his fingers. “You wanna meet me at the office when you get off?”
AUTHOR LM PRUITT BIO
L.M. Pruitt has been reading and writing for as long as she can remember. A native of Florida with a love of New Orleans, she has the uncanny ability to find humor in most things and would probably kill a plastic plant. She is the author of the Jude Magdalyn Series as well as New Moon Rising, featuring Cari Gravier, and Taken, featuring Frankie Post. She is currently at work on the next book in the Moon Rising series, Harvest Moon Rising, due out April 2012. Ms. Pruitt makes her home in Florida with two cats--one smart, the other not so much.
Seeing Night Book Reviews is the January 8th stop on tour.
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5 comments:
Wow, what a great piece, I am certainly intrigued by it. Thanks Jackie.
auriansbooks at gmail dot com
I enjoyed the excerpt. Sounds like a good read,thanks for the chance to win a copy.
irgl7(at)bonzo15(dot)plus(dot)com
Thanks so much for having me! Jack and Frankie were a blast to write. Good luck, and happy reading!
Great excerpt. Sounds like an interesting book. Can't wait to read it.
e.balinski(at)att(dot)net
Giveaway ended on the 21st, winner has been chosen and will be posted on the 25th.
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