Jack was settling in to being a cop again. Despite his foray into murder, being part of the thin blue line ran in his blood. Some things just needed to be done outside of the brotherhood. The preacher had been one of those, crossing into that category with his own murder. When your dog is rabid you put it down yourself, Jack’s father taught him that.
Paperwork was part of the routine, not Jack’s favorite part. Some of the other detectives thrived on it but Jack needed two cups of coffee to get through his. He was on his way to get that all-important second cup when he looked out the window and blinked.
Across the street stood Nicole, Jack would recognize the psycho bitch anywhere. Her presence was not the real shock though. That she stood on the street to the side of his precinct in her bra and panties was. Jack was not attracted but he could appreciate, ascetically, why a few men seemed willing to do her bidding to their detriment.
The sign she held was stranger still. In big bold letters it called him out. ‘Don’t like what you see? Call…’ there was a number, one Jack assumed was to the cell phone taped to the cardboard. It was a threat. Even in this day and age he worked in a profession where gay men were accepted, so long as they were part of them and not us. He calmly gathered his coffee and called from his own cell.
“First, let me apologize for what happened to your boyfriend.” Nicole launched in as soon as she answered the phone, in lieu of saying hello. “That was my father, not me.”
“I thought you were daddy’s little girl.” Jack whisper-growled, his eyes sliding closed to keep the tears that sprung up inside. “I thought you agreed with everything he said and did.”
“Not that. Your lover was not a part of this.”
“What do you want?”
“A simple meeting.”
“Just come by your house, meet the husband and the kids. Sounds like fun. Do you really think seeing your domestic bliss, the girls you have chained up in the basement and your cute kids will make me jump sides?”
“I think it couldn’t hurt. Besides, you know the girls aren’t chained up.”
“Not all chains are physical.”
He let the silence spin out and so did she. They played the game of metaphysical, emotional chicken like two stars of the game. Nicole was good, but Jack was better. She finally broke the quiet as he heard her start a car.
“You are more open minded than you are pretending. I assure your safety so long as you start nothing and leave in peace when it is done. We can work together or continue fighting at your preference then. Seven tonight?”
“Fine.”
Jack should have thought to tell father O’Reilly about the meeting. So the father had some idea of why the detective fell silent after it. But he didn’t.
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