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  Mara looks at Derek’s pained face.

  “Yeah, it just stinks. What can she possibly say to her children now? Nothing that will make a damn bit of difference.” Derek didn’t feel he was jaded, but he had just been to too damn many of these ceremonies, military and law enforcement. An endless string of deaths. Hard to take, even for a veteran. He wanted so badly to get outside of himself.

  “I know this will probably sound weird, but I think I’m going to go over to the indoor range for a while and make some noise. I doubt you want to, but you’re welcome to come if you want.” He hoped she did, but it was a long shot.

  “You know, I sort of do.” Mara just wasn’t ready to go home and try to act happy and normal. Decompressing seemed like a really good idea. And she could use the practice.

  “Anyone else would probably think it seems really counter-intuitive or something, but… okay, let’s go for like an hour or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  Derek and Mara blow off a little post-funeral tension. They both still wear their uniform pants and S.W.A.T. boots. Derek has thrown a black and grey plaid flannel shirt over his white T-shirt and Mara has added a favorite royal blue acid-washed hoodie over hers. They each wear ear protection, goggles and visor caps with the LAPD logo.

  It’s loud and smoky as they fire round after round from their 9 mm service pistols. Next, they fire department-issue shotguns. As they pack up to leave, Larry Fratiano saunters in wearing his customary loud warm-up suit.

  He pantomimes a freeze frame ala ‘Mod Squad’.

  “JENSSEN & BAYS! This week on ABC!”

  Derek laughs and gives his friend a hard time.

  “Dude! You look like you’re waiting for a call to work on ‘The Sopranos’. I guess you haven’t heard the show is over. They had onion rings.”

  “Hey, when’re you gonna stop busting balls about my two days as an extra? You wish you were sittin’ on a set!” Larry turns to Mara.

  “Hey, Mara! What’s up?”

  “Same old, same old…”

  “SNAFU… or what’s that other one?” He looked to Derek for help.

  “FUBAR.”

  “Yeah, that’s it! HAHAHAHA! If I ever open my bar, I’m gonna call it ‘SNAFUBAR’. Huh? Huh?” Back to Mara again.

  “Hey, I heard some production company contacted you to be on one of those lady cop shows out here… did they?”

  “Oh, God. Yes. That’s just what I need.”

  Larry is very enthusiastic about the idea.

  “Hell, girl… they pay fat stacks! And you get residuals and your guild card. You should do it!”

  “Nah, I don’t think so. The money was good, though.”

  “And they always got them dressing up like hookers and shit…”

  He notices Derek giving him a look.

  “What, man? I just mean for undercover gigs. She’s plenty cute enough. Don’t be givin’ me the Stink Eye… Hee-hee!”

  Derek gives Larry another hard look. “Okay, I got it! We left you a couple ‘unblemished’ targets. They are ready for their ‘dermabrasion’”

  “Thanks, Doc Jenssen. I got my ‘Exfoliator’ right here!” Larry pats his canvas duffel bag and drops it on the bench.

  Mara tries not to zone out. Guy talk, inside jokes, gun lust, and crap about women. Incredibly tedious. Now she wanted to be at home with Casey.

  “Check it out, Ladies and Germs!” Mara wondered if he was high or just flying on his own weird personality chemicals.

  Larry proudly lines up the ‘goods’ for his colleagues to admire: three Mace canisters, four pistols (including one that is very scuffed and has skateboard tape on the grip), two telescoping batons and a Taser case.

  “Damn, Frat Man! Are you working on a hip-hop video? What’s with the tape?”

  “That is a ‘freeway find’ from the Lost and Found, Bud. You’d look rough too if you skidded down the 101 for a couple blocks and got run over that much.”

  Larry picks up the scuffed pistol and pantomimes rocking a baby.

  “You’re just a little orphink, ain’t you, baby? Uncle Larry will take good care of you.”

  Mara had a sudden mental image of Larry snagging this piece from the Evidence Room. He was just not someone you could ever quite trust.

  Derek notices that the serial number had been ground off.

  “I am not seeing this. Okay, hey… gotta go.”

  Mara felt a rush of relief. Good, now we can get out of here.

  “Bye, y’all. Hasta la vista, Baby! I’ll be back. You talkin’ to me? Go ahead, make my day.”

  Derek and Mara sign out, leave the building, and walk to the parking lot. She shoots him a sidelong glance.

  “Oh my God, what was that?!”

  “Yeah, I know. He’s a jerk. But he saved my ass a couple times and my life once, so I feel like I have to look out for him a little.”

  “I know, you take care of everybody. He’s lucky you stepped in for him on that gambling thing.”

  She looks down, pondering.

  “I don’t think he’s really gotten over not having you as a partner. I’m sure he thinks I stole his spot.”

  “Well, you didn’t. You got it fair and square. He just screwed up at exactly the wrong time, and I spoke up for him. He has a really good record… I mean until then he did.”

  “He really looks up to you.” True to form, Derek ignores the compliment and presses on. He stops walking and continues his point as if he has just analyzed the reasons.

  “You know what I think it is? When I was married, he and his girlfriend, Cheryl, went everywhere with us. Boat trips, dinners, Vegas… I think he misses the social connection.”

  He pauses and contemplates.

  “But he never talks smack about you. I wouldn’t let him. He’s okay. Just too ambitious and impatient.” And feeling his age, Derek knew, - just like he was. But he couldn’t bring himself to say that to Mara.

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  Chapter 33

  Not a Problem

  Derek and Mara work on case paperwork while grabbing a quick lunch. They are re-copying reports and filling in a list of witness and informant phone numbers and addresses.

  “Do you have a cell number for Garfield… what’s his name? Gar…?”

  Mara looks up and laughs, taking a quick sip of her iced tea.

  “It’s Gar-finkel. Garfield, oh boy! We’ve got just about everyone but the family cat.”

  “So, do you?”

  “Sorry, no. I think the one I had listed is out of service. I’ve got hers, but they’re divorced now so it’s been awhile since…”

  A song ring-tone sounds on Mara’s cell. She checks the screen, seeing a small image of Casey. She blinks slowly and smiles.

  “Hey, what’s goin’ on? … No, that’s okay… we’re just doing paperwork and eating. Uh-huh.”

  She looks at Derek and mouths, “It’s Casey.”

  He hooks a thumb and asks if she wants him to go. She shakes her head ‘no’. Back to Casey.

  “Well, are you there now?... And it’s not ready?”

  Mara checks her watch and frowns.

  “I’m sorry, I just can’t do it… I know, but I have to get back to turn this stuff in, and I still have one more interview. It’s already late. Don’t they have a loaner?” She knew Casey didn’t like the idea of rides with strangers now, so Uber or a cab was out.

  Derek raises his finger to get Mara’s attention and whispers to her. Mara tells Casey to ‘hold on’ and covers the phone with her hand.

  “Does she need a ride? I can take her home in my car, and you go turn in the reports. They don’t need to see me. You can deliver both of them.”

  Mara speaks to Casey again.

  “D. says he can pick you up and take you home. Hold on; t
ell him the address, okay? What? Probably nine-thirty by the time I get everything finished…Yeah, I know. Okay, here he is.”

  She hands her phone to Derek, who has a steel point ready to write on his napkin.

  “Hi, Cassandra. What is it? 1-0-7-0-1… got it. I’ll come and find you in the waiting room? By the what? … Oh, Parts Department. Okay. Should be about fifteen or twenty minutes. That’s okay. Not a problem.”

  He hands the cell back to Mara, who mouths, ‘Thank you.’ to him and turns back to Casey.

  “You need a new car. These repairs are killing us. See you soon… Huh? Yeah, that sounds good. ‘Bye.”

  She shuts down her phone and thanks Derek again.

  “Sorry to hang this on you. Her friend is a flake and he forgot he was supposed to wait. Artists! Thanks for doing this.”

  “Not a problem.” Even he noticed that he had taken to saying this a lot lately.

  Derek picks Casey up and drives her home. She wears a short skirt, French T-Shirt, sandals and her anniversary necklace.

  As Casey gets into Derek’s car and snaps into her seat belt, something on the floor catches her eye. A foil blister-pack with two bright turquoise capsules and two empty spaces. She recognizes the medication.

  Derek checks for cross traffic and pulls out onto the busy boulevard.

  “Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it. My friend Ben does the most beautiful steel sculptures, but he’s not the brightest guy really.”

  “No big deal. Happy to do it, Cassandra.”

  “You can call me Casey.”

  Derek tightens his jaw slightly.

  “Oh, okay. I wasn’t sure if I should.”

  They ride in silence for a while, then Derek attempts to make conversation.

  “So, what’s the story with your little car?”

  Casey speaks in her typical animated fashion.

  “Oh, God. Some mysterious electrical short they just never seem to get straightened out. I love the car, but it’s getting a little stupid at this point.”

  “Californians and their cars.”

  “Mos def.”

  “So, are you totally fine now… health-wise? No fallout from the uh…?”

  “Oh, not too bad, considering. I used to get these horrible migraines. Light would just kill me…so not too great for photography and artwork.”

  “What do you do for that? Or what did you do? You still get them?”

  “Very infrequent. Sinus problems in cold weather, just on one side. But I’m fine. Lucky. Just really lucky.” Oh, shut up! Casey realized she was motor-mouthing.

  “Oh, enough about my stuff. Thank you for asking, though. How are you guys getting along?” Oh my God, what am I saying? Fuck. She meant it as harmless interest, but it sounded wrong the second she said it.

  The question hangs in the air, and Casey corrects course.

  “Oh, Jeez! I meant with work stuff. Sorry, Derek.” Maybe it would be okay.

  He inclines his head and lifts his hand off the steering wheel, palm up.

  “Hey, not a problem. Yeah, we’ve always got a pretty heavy caseload.”

  He looks over at Casey as he drives, and then continues speaking, eyes fixed on the road and traffic.

  Casey’s skirt has been riding up, making her feel self-conscious, so she pulls it down.

  “I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you haven’t heard. Budget cuts, the usual bureaucratic B.S. they load us up with.”

  Casey tries to commiserate.

  “I heard that! It just never ends.”

  “We’re really good together, though. She’s a very smart woman.”

  Derek clenches his jaw slightly.

  Casey brushes her hair back and looks out the passenger side window to collect herself.

  “Yes, that she is. Very tough work you guys do. I don’t know how you can stand it. Sometimes she comes home so tired and tensed-up; I don’t know what to do for her.”

  Derek pushes back a little.

  “Well, massage is good. Neck, shoulders, hands… She likes…” What am I doing? Showing off? Making sure she knows I know? Pathetic and desperate. He was shaming himself. But why?

  Casey puffs out her lips and raises her eyebrows, giving her head a little shake and smiling.

  “Well, that hot tub turned out to be the best investment I ever made.” This tack was a very bad idea, but he had crossed a couple of personal boundaries and she wasn’t having it. Your seniority means nothing here, Jack. “Brush him back.”, as her brother had advised her when they played softball and he thought she was being too timid pitching.

  Derek flexes his jaw again and presses the issue.

  “Well, whatever works.”

  Casey laughs involuntarily, remembering.

  “Oh, it works alright. Sure does.” Oh, it was ‘on’ now. Treating her like some little lightweight with a hobby affair. She was sympathetic, but what the hell? Why was he doing this?

  They both fall into a tense and awkward silence. Feeling bad, Casey attempts to diffuse the tension by apologizing.

  “Oh, look, I’m sorry. That was just really, really stupid of me.”

  She puts her palms together.

  “Listen, I know this is awkward. I probably should have just called Uber or taken a…”

  “It’s not awkward. You won. I’m over it.” Three little statements. Box Score: Lie. True. Lie. A big torturous, painful lie.

  They ride in silence until the beach house comes into view.

  “Thank you, Derek. Really. I’m sorry things went sideways. My bad. Can I at least give you some gas money?”

  He narrows his eyes and juts his jaw.

  “No, I’ve got it. You can invite me for barbecue sometime. I hope they get your car straightened out.” He thought he pulled it out of the fire. So why did he feel so bad, so weak, so out of control?

  Casey gets out of the car and shuts the door. Don’t be wimpy, but don’t slam it the way you want to.

  “Well, thanks again.”

  He ducks his head below the roofline and looks up at her.

  “Not a problem.” There it was again. He couldn’t stop saying it. Who was he trying to convince?

  He hangs a slow U-turn and drives away.

  Casey stands for a moment, watching him go. She scoffs under her breath.

  “Yeah, right. A barbecue. Don’t hold your fucking breath on that one!”

  The smell of the ocean, the sound of the surf, some time to settle herself. She would order the Thai food, and Mara would be home.

  Chapter 34

  Two Blue, Two Gone

  Mara lies on the couch with her shoes off and one arm over her eyes, having gotten home at 10:30 pm. Cecil lies on the floor near her with his muzzle resting on her shoes.

  Casey takes two plates from the cupboard and slides the silverware drawer open. Mara looks up.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not very hungry.”

  “Did you eat before you came home? This is still good re-heated. I waited up for you.”

  Mara doesn’t respond, so Casey tries again.

  “I got you Cashew Chicken and Mee Krob. They dropped it off at 9:00… That’s their last delivery. You said it sounded good… Still nothing. Is she that exhausted? Casey wanted to talk, but she could wait if Mara was just too tired. Maybe just let her fall asleep, get a blanket and talk tomorrow when her car would be ready to pick up.

  “Do you want a beer?”

  “Yeah, okay. Please.” Mara realized she had been deep in thought and churning through the day’s events mentally. Back to reality.

  Mara starts to sit up.

  “Stay, stay… I’ll bring it.”

  Mara slowly sinks back down and closes her eyes again. She really was tired.

  Casey comes over with two bot
tles of beer and napkins. She tells Cecil to move, and he gives her a baleful look.

  “Cecil, go lie down.”

  The Akita trudges over to his spot and plops down, looking sad.

  “That’s a good boy.”

  Casey sits on the edge of the couch next to Mara. The light catches her silver necklace. She has a couple swallows of beer and sets her bottle down.

  She pauses and tentatively eases into a question.

  “I know this will sound weird, but does Derek have some health problem?”

  Mara pops one eye open and looks at Casey with a quizzical expression.

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  “Well I noticed some blue pills when I climbed into his car.”

  Mara finds this funny and gives Casey a tired smile.

  “What, you think he’s taking Viagra?”

  Casey pulls a half-empty blister pack out of her purse on the coffee table and holds it up between her index and middle finger. Mara shoots her a look.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I know I shouldn’t have taken it, but I didn’t think you’d believe me. And he was really testy and weird with me.”

  Mara sits up and reaches for her beer, taking a sip.

  “You’re right, you shouldn’t have. He’s got a lot on his mind and… Okay he does seem different lately but…”

  “Baby, it’s Oxy-160! This shit is hella strong. Remember Eddie Gennaro, my really, really cute bar-back?”

  “Curly black hair? Nice build?”

  “Uh huh. He had back problems, and he got all fucked-up on pain pills. We had to let him go... poor guy. He’s still a mess.”

  Mara shows increasing irritation. Where was this going? It was bad enough to be half-worried about Derek all the time, but at home, it was not something she wanted to deal with. And, even worse, - she heard herself sounding defensive. Oh, a cigarette sounded so good and that was also bad.

  “Sorry, he just… was acting kind of strange. I know I don’t really know him like you do.”

  “No, you really don’t. You have not the remotest idea of what we’ve been through together.” God, now she was angry and defensive. Even worse, because she knew Casey was genuinely concerned.