gaze.
Gonzales leaned back and cradled his head in
his hands. “What makes you think you can do this?”
“Determination.” It was the first and only
thing that came to mind.
“Determination’s good,” Steve said.
“I was thinking in terms of practical
experience,” Gonzales said. “Something that would catch my eye on a
resume.”
Jenny stifled a laugh. I can arrange a mean
centerpiece.
Gonzales released his hands and sat forward.
He studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Tell you what. Pass
the fitness test and I’ll consider your request.”
Fitness test? A picture of Marine boot camp
training flashed through her mind. How the hell could she pass a
fitness test? Was this the moment she should say, ‘thank you very
much’ and take her leave? “What exactly do I have to do?”
The man seemed as surprised by her question
as she was. “A modified form of our cadet requirements.”
“Which are?”
“Run a mile without passing out. Twenty-five
sit-ups. Twenty-five push-ups. A few more things I can't recall.
It’s been a while since I looked at the training manual.”
Jenny kept her feet planted firmly in place
despite her inclination to run like hell. She couldn’t even
remember the last time she’d done a sit-up. “How long do I have to
get ready?”
Gonzales seemed to consider her slight frame
for a second longer than necessary. “Four weeks.”
~*~
Driving home, Jenny's mind whirled with the
effort of trying to sort out the complications she'd never
considered before making that brash decision to storm the police
station.
Not the least of which was keeping everything
a secret.
Gonzales had explained that the only way they
could make this happen-if she passed the physical challenge-was to
run her as a confidential informant. That meant not telling anyone.
"Not your kids. Not your mother. Not even your dog can know where
you go or what you do."
That had struck her as funny at the station,
but now as she approached her driveway anxiety tore through her.
Her whole relationship with the kids had been built on honesty. How
could she lie to them? And hide things from her mother, or Carol?
There was a good reason Jenny never played poker.
After the car rolled to a stop in front of
the house, Jenny killed the engine and sat for a moment. Through
her open window she heard the chatter of a blue jay that was
worrying a robin in the elm tree. As she watched the birds, she
couldn’t help but notice that the branches of the tree dipped
dangerously close to the roof. Pretty soon they’d be scraping
across the shingles. Something else to fix. Maybe she should just
forget this nonsense and take care of her house. Take care of the
family that she had left. Forget the drugs and forget-
No. She couldn’t just forget. Otherwise there
would be no way to make any sense of Michael’s death. And somehow
there was this burning need for reason, for order, for
retribution.
~*~
The pain in her side finally brought Jenny to
a halt and she bent over to get her breath. Good thing she’d toted
deliveries around for all these years. No upper-arm wobble for her.
But the stamina could use work. She jogged a few blocks and broke
out in a huff.
Surprisingly, Carol had outdistanced her. Who
would’ve thought short and a little pudgy would have beat skinny as
a rail?
Her friend now came back with a broad grin.
“I still have it.”
“What?”
“How quickly you forget. High School track?
Who beat you then?”
“Bite me.” Jenny headed down the street at a
slow lope that Carol easily matched.
“Tell me again why we’re doing this?”
“So we can enjoy our old age together.”
“Who says I want to spend it with you?”
Jenny managed a semblance of a laugh in
between huffs. That had been an on-going joke with them for years.
Carol lost her husband to cancer two years after Ralph had run off.
Neither of them had been able to decide which loss was worse;
finally deciding
Gonzales leaned back and cradled his head in
his hands. “What makes you think you can do this?”
“Determination.” It was the first and only
thing that came to mind.
“Determination’s good,” Steve said.
“I was thinking in terms of practical
experience,” Gonzales said. “Something that would catch my eye on a
resume.”
Jenny stifled a laugh. I can arrange a mean
centerpiece.
Gonzales released his hands and sat forward.
He studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Tell you what. Pass
the fitness test and I’ll consider your request.”
Fitness test? A picture of Marine boot camp
training flashed through her mind. How the hell could she pass a
fitness test? Was this the moment she should say, ‘thank you very
much’ and take her leave? “What exactly do I have to do?”
The man seemed as surprised by her question
as she was. “A modified form of our cadet requirements.”
“Which are?”
“Run a mile without passing out. Twenty-five
sit-ups. Twenty-five push-ups. A few more things I can't recall.
It’s been a while since I looked at the training manual.”
Jenny kept her feet planted firmly in place
despite her inclination to run like hell. She couldn’t even
remember the last time she’d done a sit-up. “How long do I have to
get ready?”
Gonzales seemed to consider her slight frame
for a second longer than necessary. “Four weeks.”
~*~
Driving home, Jenny's mind whirled with the
effort of trying to sort out the complications she'd never
considered before making that brash decision to storm the police
station.
Not the least of which was keeping everything
a secret.
Gonzales had explained that the only way they
could make this happen-if she passed the physical challenge-was to
run her as a confidential informant. That meant not telling anyone.
"Not your kids. Not your mother. Not even your dog can know where
you go or what you do."
That had struck her as funny at the station,
but now as she approached her driveway anxiety tore through her.
Her whole relationship with the kids had been built on honesty. How
could she lie to them? And hide things from her mother, or Carol?
There was a good reason Jenny never played poker.
After the car rolled to a stop in front of
the house, Jenny killed the engine and sat for a moment. Through
her open window she heard the chatter of a blue jay that was
worrying a robin in the elm tree. As she watched the birds, she
couldn’t help but notice that the branches of the tree dipped
dangerously close to the roof. Pretty soon they’d be scraping
across the shingles. Something else to fix. Maybe she should just
forget this nonsense and take care of her house. Take care of the
family that she had left. Forget the drugs and forget-
No. She couldn’t just forget. Otherwise there
would be no way to make any sense of Michael’s death. And somehow
there was this burning need for reason, for order, for
retribution.
~*~
The pain in her side finally brought Jenny to
a halt and she bent over to get her breath. Good thing she’d toted
deliveries around for all these years. No upper-arm wobble for her.
But the stamina could use work. She jogged a few blocks and broke
out in a huff.
Surprisingly, Carol had outdistanced her. Who
would’ve thought short and a little pudgy would have beat skinny as
a rail?
Her friend now came back with a broad grin.
“I still have it.”
“What?”
“How quickly you forget. High School track?
Who beat you then?”
“Bite me.” Jenny headed down the street at a
slow lope that Carol easily matched.
“Tell me again why we’re doing this?”
“So we can enjoy our old age together.”
“Who says I want to spend it with you?”
Jenny managed a semblance of a laugh in
between huffs. That had been an on-going joke with them for years.
Carol lost her husband to cancer two years after Ralph had run off.
Neither of them had been able to decide which loss was worse;
finally deciding
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