the classic signs are all present. What a helluva weekend. I
think the Spring Dance was a success. Unfortunately, all I remember is arriving
and having a few drinks, after that a black void, nothing, nada.
I’m close to my destination, the Hall of
Justice, which houses most of the Investigative Division, including
Administration, Homicide, Records, and the Dispatch Center. It’s early morning.
The Chief said ‘early’ and made it sound like a few seconds delay would be
fatal, and not for him. I think this is the day we discuss Mamma Mia.
The street vendors are setting up. It’s
bright morning with sunshine bouncing off any reflective surface, but once I go
through those two massive front doors of the Hall, the setting will change.
Inside there will be long, narrow, dark hallways with rows of offices, some
doors opened, others closed, but all blinds will be pulled to ward off the hot
sun.
I’m trying to remember the dance, the
recollection a frustrating, useless exercise. God, this is getting scary. Best
not tell Sam or Monk. I run up the staircase in front of the Hall of Justice,
push through the front giant doors and start for the bank of elevators at the
end of the hall; I hear someone calling me. Wes Krause, my old partner and good
friend, is trying to get my attention.
“Charlie, I hear the Chief wants to see
you. I bet I know why. I’m surprised you were able to dress yourself this
morning. Why’re you looking so stunned?’
“Smart ass. Tell me. Come on, tell me.” I
really like Wes but he does enjoy playing games, and I’m not in the mood. Wes
more closely resembles a 1960’s hippie than a homicide detective. He has a dark
complexion and is tall, with a long dark brown ponytail, a beard which is
occasionally trimmed, black plastic framed glasses because corrective surgery
not possible, a relaxed persona. In reality, he’s an excellent athlete, with
strength and speed, who plays on the same recreational basketball team as I do.
Wes is a follower which makes him a good
partner for me, a guy who often moves on instinct and occasionally needs
someone to flash the warning lights. He is a close friend and his loyalty is
evident to everyone, even if they don’t understand the origin. Around the
station he has developed the reputation as ‘Charlie’s bodyguard’. At times, I
find his loyalty embarrassing but our street bonding goes deep.
“You don’t know? You had another blackout.
Didn’t you? You can’t remember the goddamn mess you created. Recall the shit storm
which followed? Can you?”
This time I’m really uneasy; he’s right I
can’t remember, no matter how hard I try. Wes stares at me, and my response is
to look stupid, but there is nothing but a blank wall, almost the entire
weekend a vacuum; I don’t have to say anymore, he knows.
“I better get you up to speed because you
are going to hear about this one. Even with all the booze you were doing ok for
most of the party, until near the end. I thought you were safe, and I wasn’t
paying too much attention to your wandering. At some point you spotted the
redhead and her girlfriend; they were both wearing gowns with a lot of bare
shoulder and back which presented a target for…”
“Oh, Christ, don’t tell me. I don’t want to
know!”
“I’m just getting started. Their dates had
left them to get more drinks. That’s when you arrived. The ladies certainly
weren’t impressed.
I don’t know what you whispered into Red’s
ear. And, I was still on the other side of the room when you started on her
shoulders; it was a combination of licking and kissing her bare shoulders and
bare back. Man, this was serious shit; your face was all over her back. I think
the only reason she didn’t scream was she was in shock.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. The lady
in question, Red, is Emma Collins a senior medical technician in the Forensic
Division, a real beauty. I had thought, numerous times, of asking her out but
never
think the Spring Dance was a success. Unfortunately, all I remember is arriving
and having a few drinks, after that a black void, nothing, nada.
I’m close to my destination, the Hall of
Justice, which houses most of the Investigative Division, including
Administration, Homicide, Records, and the Dispatch Center. It’s early morning.
The Chief said ‘early’ and made it sound like a few seconds delay would be
fatal, and not for him. I think this is the day we discuss Mamma Mia.
The street vendors are setting up. It’s
bright morning with sunshine bouncing off any reflective surface, but once I go
through those two massive front doors of the Hall, the setting will change.
Inside there will be long, narrow, dark hallways with rows of offices, some
doors opened, others closed, but all blinds will be pulled to ward off the hot
sun.
I’m trying to remember the dance, the
recollection a frustrating, useless exercise. God, this is getting scary. Best
not tell Sam or Monk. I run up the staircase in front of the Hall of Justice,
push through the front giant doors and start for the bank of elevators at the
end of the hall; I hear someone calling me. Wes Krause, my old partner and good
friend, is trying to get my attention.
“Charlie, I hear the Chief wants to see
you. I bet I know why. I’m surprised you were able to dress yourself this
morning. Why’re you looking so stunned?’
“Smart ass. Tell me. Come on, tell me.” I
really like Wes but he does enjoy playing games, and I’m not in the mood. Wes
more closely resembles a 1960’s hippie than a homicide detective. He has a dark
complexion and is tall, with a long dark brown ponytail, a beard which is
occasionally trimmed, black plastic framed glasses because corrective surgery
not possible, a relaxed persona. In reality, he’s an excellent athlete, with
strength and speed, who plays on the same recreational basketball team as I do.
Wes is a follower which makes him a good
partner for me, a guy who often moves on instinct and occasionally needs
someone to flash the warning lights. He is a close friend and his loyalty is
evident to everyone, even if they don’t understand the origin. Around the
station he has developed the reputation as ‘Charlie’s bodyguard’. At times, I
find his loyalty embarrassing but our street bonding goes deep.
“You don’t know? You had another blackout.
Didn’t you? You can’t remember the goddamn mess you created. Recall the shit storm
which followed? Can you?”
This time I’m really uneasy; he’s right I
can’t remember, no matter how hard I try. Wes stares at me, and my response is
to look stupid, but there is nothing but a blank wall, almost the entire
weekend a vacuum; I don’t have to say anymore, he knows.
“I better get you up to speed because you
are going to hear about this one. Even with all the booze you were doing ok for
most of the party, until near the end. I thought you were safe, and I wasn’t
paying too much attention to your wandering. At some point you spotted the
redhead and her girlfriend; they were both wearing gowns with a lot of bare
shoulder and back which presented a target for…”
“Oh, Christ, don’t tell me. I don’t want to
know!”
“I’m just getting started. Their dates had
left them to get more drinks. That’s when you arrived. The ladies certainly
weren’t impressed.
I don’t know what you whispered into Red’s
ear. And, I was still on the other side of the room when you started on her
shoulders; it was a combination of licking and kissing her bare shoulders and
bare back. Man, this was serious shit; your face was all over her back. I think
the only reason she didn’t scream was she was in shock.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. The lady
in question, Red, is Emma Collins a senior medical technician in the Forensic
Division, a real beauty. I had thought, numerous times, of asking her out but
never
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