Friday, July 23, 2010

Will Baker is Dead, Episode 7 - "Taking Initiative"

           He had never ignored his alarm clock before, at least not while he was sober, but this morning was different.   Work usually found the big man out of the house by 6am, but today he enjoyed sleeping in and watching the sun bathe the fields from his bedroom window, bringing in a pristine view of the world from his house on the hill.  The sun rose just as it had every morning since the first days of creation.  The shadows from the hay split the light into distinguishable slivers, each one individual and part of the whole in its own right.  He could have counted each one, for he saw the world as new this morning.  The fog over the trees started to burn away as the Summer sun heated the sky, and although it was a familiar scene, Rob Evans knew now that today would be like no other day he had ever experienced. 

            He had spent the last ten years or so obsessing about the “girl next door,” Jules Robin, now Baker.  He had spent the last three years mourning her marriage to the prick next door, Will Baker, wondering how he was going to get around that little barricade.  Rob could think of nothing in life he wanted more than his dream girl, the Southern beauty she was.  He had courted her and tried his hardest to lay down some slick whiles of his own while he worked the stock room at Horizon Grocery, but nothing would catch her eye.  It was like she had this perpetual vow of celibacy that he just couldn’t penetrate, but he tried to just as hard.  And now he had done it. 
            He had finally gotten that girl to look his way, and Rob Evans made good on a promise he made to himself all those years ago.  And last night in the rain, in something that can only be described as a moment of weakness by Jules and a particularly strong work by Rob, he found a way to make her give in.  And now that he had her, Rob would do anything to keep her from getting away. 
            The day ahead looked to be a long one of farm work and yard work, so the lazy morning had to end.  He turned on the radio and headed to the shower, reluctantly washing away the luck of the day before and the scent of a woman he had always loved.  Rob didn’t mind too much, though, figuring it wouldn’t be too long before he got that scent back.  The radio was pretty nice, playing a little Tom Petty as he was rolling into the shower.  After the weekend rock wore off and they turned over to the usual repertoire of acoustic guitars and other twangy strings, Rob wandered the dial looking for another good rock show, finally settling on one of the bigger stations.  It was a good choice.  They had just started playing his favorite song, “Bad Moon Rising.” 
            It didn’t take long for a farmer like Rob to get ready.  He’d get showered off, brush his teeth, scruff his hair down under a John Deere hat, then fill a thermos up with coffee before pulling out of the drive.  And the last few years being in the fire department had helped teach Rob how to get ready in no time flat, always moving as if a call-out was right around the corner.  Rob pulled on one of his old Bulldog t-shirts, covered it up with a light summer plaid fitting a country farmer from Horizon, all over his jeans and work boots.  Sure it was Summer, and sure it would probably be a hellish temperature that afternoon, but the man had customs, and he wouldn’t break them for anything.  Not even the threat of heat stroke. 
            The morning was still cool, so Rob just rolled the windows down on his old GMC, a beautiful white truck his dad had given him for high school graduation.  It got the job done, and it had a cab cozy enough to fit a big guy like him.  Rob wanted to get some fences built out at the back of his fields to try and keep the deer out, and maybe some of the smaller animals with a little chicken wire, so it meant tripping down to the Home Depot in Myrtle City.  He never understood why they couldn’t put a store a little closer into town with all the folks in Horizon who could use a good home improvement store, but it wasn’t his call.  They used to have the Horizon General for smaller purchases, but even then they wouldn’t have had his wood and wire. 
Before he got too far, Rob thought he’d stop in and fill up at the Minit Save, get a paper, and maybe talk with some of the old men in town.  It meant crossing the highway twice over, but that was no problem for Rob.  He loved any chance to meet up and talk farm with the former earth turners of Horizon.  It always meant free lessons and sometimes free coffee. 
            Rob eased up to the curb and turned off the engine.  It was a shame, though, because it meant turning off one of his favorite songs by The Who, but he had the Limp Bizkit cover on CD and would just play it later if he really wanted to. 
            The store looked about as dirty and poorly managed as always, and there were no old men standing by the counter talking with old Frank.  They weren’t as consistent during the Summer when everyone’s schedule was different.  It was nice to see another friend in the store, though, as Rob recognized his cop buddy in the back.  He figured that Joe Rodriguez was getting some coffee or looking around for a morning snack.  Probably, “checking in on the store” to avoid getting another one of those meaningless calls he hated so much. 
            They exchanged head nods, and Rob went about his business.  He looked at the gum on the counter, poured a cup of coffee, and looked over the weekends lottery numbers, not surprised to see that none of his lucky numbers had come in.  Rob never bought tickets, but he knew what numbers he would play if he did buy one.  He always checked the winning numbers just to see.  He felt like that if any of his lucky numbers came up, or even all of them, it was destined to be a lucky day. 
            That gosh awful chime on the door alerted everyone to another presence in the store, but Rob had gotten used to tuning it out back when he spent an hour or more talking to folks at the counter.  A part of his mind always wondered who it was, but never really cared.  The sound he heard next, though, that was one he wasn’t quite as accustomed to, and he instantly knew exactly who walked in the door. 
            “Lenny!  What a pleasant surprise to see you in here this morning.  How’s the farm coming?”
            “Morning, Will.  It’s coming along well.  I’m actually heading up to Home Depot this morning to pick up some supplies.  I’m gonna build a fence along the back of the fields, right up next to the woods there.”
            “That sounds nice.  That gonna keep all the rabbits out?  Or do you want to keep them all in?”
            “I’m mostly working for deer this time, but I may do something about the rabbits.” 
            Oh, Rob knew what Will was doing.  They’d had Junior English together back in High School, and after they read Of Mice and Men, Will liked using his little nickname for Rob.  Rob thought Steinbeck sucked about as much as Will.  It was a pretty fitting nickname in some ways, given that Rob was a big man and he was a farm boy.  Oh, Rob knew what Will was doing, but he chose to let it go.  After all, Rob had something on old Bill Walker that he didn’t know about, and that was enough to make this a pleasant encounter for the farm boy. 
            Will crossed around him to reach the coffee, trying to fuel up before a long day down at the bank.  “The deer messing up your fields?”  Will finally dropped the act and just talked to him about the farm. 
            “Yeah, they’ve been eating on my apple trees and eating at some of the crops, but nothing too serious.  I wish it were season so I could’ve shot one of them, but they aren’t that big of a problem.  How’s the bank?”
            “It’s okay.  Handling other people’s money is just great, you know?  Handle theirs while making none of your own.”
            So said the man driving a fairly new Charger. 
            “I hear you there.”  Rob tried hard as he could to talk to Will without giving anything away.  He just wanted to look at the man and say, Hey, I’m doing your wife, but it didn’t seem too prudent.  Instead, he grinned excessively and acted like he was in on the joke with Will.  “Where were you this weekend?  I didn’t see your car around any.”
            “Oh, I was out of town on business, setting up an account for some clients.  It was nice and tropical, really.  You?”
            “I was on shift Saturday to yesterday morning, and I’ll go back on tomorrow morning, so I’m just trying to get some work done on the farm.  Maybe cut the hay this afternoon.”
            “That sounds good, sounds good.”  The banker just sort of trailed off after a minute, and just when it looked like Rob would get away with it, he came back.  “You know, that reminds me.  When I came in last night, I noticed something odd.  The house smelled a bit odd.  You know what might’ve caused that?”
            “Well that would depend on what the smell was, Will.  What’d it smell like and where was it coming from?”
            “Well it smelled like hay, and it seemed to come from my wife.”
            Will stood eye-to-eye with Rob, somehow, and challenged him to come up with a reason.
            “I know what you’ve been doing with her, Rob.  I’m on to you, and I’m not gonna let you get away with it.  Tonight, I’m sitting down and talking to her about it.  I’ve been watching her these last few months, and I know what she does when I’m gone.  You can’t have my Jules, Rob.  You touch her again, and I’ll kill you.”
            The words of his voice came off smooth and uncontested, like there was no doubt that he meant it and he’d thought about it very hard.  It bothered Rob, though, that Will seemed to think they had been going on for months and months.  Before last night, Rob could’ve very easily dismissed this crazed husband, but for some reason, he didn’t want to correct the man.  Rob felt more powerful when his competition thought of it as months, and that was something he didn’t want to give up. 
            “You threatening trouble with me, Will?”
            “Yeah, you could say that.”
            “Boy, I could tear you up.  You really want to do this?”
            “I’d kill you where you stand, Rob.”
            “I’ll be sure and tell my cop friend what you said when he comes back to the counter.”
            Will took a glance back, and without missing a beat, “I’ll be sure and pull the trigger on my .22 so he knows it without having to walk over here.”
            “You carry a gun around in your suit?”
            “Sure.  Bank’s a dangerous place.  We got held up a few years back, I might as well be prepared just in case.” 
            Though Rob and Will had known each other a ways back, Rob never knew the timid man to be a violent one aside from the occasional outburst, but who didn’t fit that bill?  Nor did he ever know him to be a member of the National Handgun Owner’s Association, but he also knew well enough not to push a man who’s wife you were sleeping with.  Something told Rob that he probably wasn’t bluffing it. 
            “Now look, Will, there ain’t no need for you to do this.  You shoot me right here in what looks like cold blood, my friend back there will have one between your eyes before I hit the ground.”  Rob glanced over his assailant’s shoulder, trying to make contact with the officer, but it didn’t work.
            “And if you get that guy involved, your both gone.  So just keep those eyes on me, okay, friend?  Now.  You touch my wife again, I’ll kill you.  You’re gonna call her up this afternoon and tell her it’s all over.  Make up whatever story you want, I don’t care.  Just don’t tell her I know about it, we’re all good.”
            Rob couldn’t stop thinking about his saving grace, a police officer right in the back of the room just itching and waiting to pull that trigger.  He couldn’t help but thinking that maybe alerting the officer was the best he could do. 
            “You really want to risk this?  You want to die, Will?”
            “Today feels like a good day to die.  Why not, sure?”
            That failed. 
            “What if I don’t leave it alone, Will?  What if I go on doing what I’ve been doing and your wife just keeps on doing what she’s been doing, which right now happens to be me.  What would you do?”
            “Well, Rob, I think you know what I’d do.  That seems to be the topic of conversation today, doesn’t it?  I would take my gun, put it in your mouth, and pull the trigger.  And I wouldn’t aim up, either.  I’d shoot straight back.  Your windpipe would be ruptured, and if I’m lucky I’d get your upper spinal column.  You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move.  You would die, alright, but not all that fast.  You could be laying on the floor for hours and nobody would come to get you.  Sound fun?”
            About this time, Rob’s hero had finally come to save the day.  Officer Rodriguez must’ve seen the discussion and wanted to get in on the talk.  
            When he first spoke and alerted the men to his presence, because neither man had the concentration to spare that would allow them to see him coming, Will shot Rob a look that pretty much repeated the message he had given him three or four times already: talk and your dead.  “Hey, Rob.  How’re the crops looking?”
“Oh…hey there, Joe.  They’re doing well, mostly looking good this season.”  Rob tried to hide the quiver in his voice, and it worked pretty well, but Rob just knew that something got out. 
“What’re you boys talking about over here?” 
“We’re just talking about that Braves game last night, Officer.  We were disagreeing on whether or not this is Chipper’s last season,” Will said, once more looking back at Rob as if to get his message across.  “You a baseball fan, Officer…Rodriguez?”
“Oh, yeah.  Great game last night, finishing up that sweep of the Phils.  McCann launching one in the eighth to put us back up, that new kid, Heyward, coming in and knocking a few guys home.  It was a great game.” 
Rob, feeling a little emboldened by his friend’s arrival, decided to send a message of his own  “I don’t think Chipper’s done yet.  He’s still playing a really good game right now.  I think he’s poised to have a pretty good season, even if it is his last,” he thought out loud, adding the real punch to it with his last statement and completely abandoning the illusion of sports talk.  “I’m thinking he’s gonna put in a pretty good game this afternoon, if you ask me.”
“See, I’m pretty sure he’s done.  You know him.  You never can tell when his last game will be.  I wouldn’t be too surprised if he didn’t even make the lineup today.  If he didn’t even play this afternoon,” Will brought back in retort, clearly responding to Rob’s brazen attempt at throwing him off.
“He’ll have a good game today, you just wait and see.”  Rob had regained his height advantage on Will, feeling ever stronger with a cop there on his side.  His eyes were a good five inches above Will’s and looked down on them with a furious passion.  Will returned the look with his own cold stare.   
“Hey, guys.  Braves are off tonight.  It’s a travel day down South.  Marlins, coming up, I think.” 
Rob felt about useless at realizing his mistake, making the first strategic stumble in the battle he was having with Will.  “Oh, yeah.  Well, I never pay much attention to the schedule.  I figure I’ll wind up listening to it no matter what, why care who they’ve got coming up?”  It was a decent enough cover, but Rob just knew that Joe saw straight through it. 
“Right.  Well, friends, I hate to cut the water cooler chat short, but the bank won’t open itself.  Have a good morning, officer.  Rob, have a good day,” his last words coming off almost like a challenge to the farmer.  And with that, Will took his coffee and left, Rob finally breathing easy for the first time in almost five minutes.  Something had happened in that confrontation, and Rob could feel it.  And what he felt was an upper hand. 
“What have you got yourself into now, Rob?”
“It’s nothing.  Just a friendly competition is all.  And it’s one I plan on winning.” 
“You be careful.  I can’t help you if you get into anything, Evans, and that guy’s trouble.  I can tell.  And if I’m not mistaken, I think he had a gun in his pocket.” 
“You think so?  A banker?”  Rob knew that the banker had been carrying a gun, but it just didn’t seem to matter anymore.  The danger was gone, and he had no reason to fear it.  Guys like Will were always making ridiculous promises that they never really intended to carry through with.  Things like foreclosures and loans?  Rob knew that he could win this, he just had to figure out how.   
“You be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”
“You know me, Joe.  I’ll leap, then look, and shout a big’ole yeehaw just to make it sound better.” 
“Yeah, yeah, you redneck fool.  I gotta get back to work.  And I mean it.  Don’t push this guy.  I can feel something’s wrong there.” 
And with that, Rob and Joe split off, Joe getting back to wherever he’d been before, and Rob breaking for the truck.  He’d wasted enough time and needed to get on to that Home Depot before too long.  That lumber wouldn’t sell itself, you know. 
It was that part of the day where the sun was brightest but not the hottest, where the soil hadn’t quite gotten accustomed to the rays beating down on them, but the sky was already so much lighter than it had been a couple hours before, you just couldn’t tell.  And the sun was still low, so you couldn’t really avoid it no matter how hard you tried.  Rob was used to being out in the field by this time, or just showing up to the fire house and eating breakfast, so it didn’t bother him so much.  He drove on for about twenty minutes, mostly because Monday morning work traffic and the stragglers heading into Atlanta for their jobs.  This was the other problem with stopping at the Minit Save, he now had to contend with metropolitans who wanted “the country life” filling up the roads around him.  Folks like Will. 
Reports on the radio weren’t any more helpful, saying there was a wreck on down the road past his exit on the locally known St. John highway.  It took longer to get there than usual, but Rob was still riding high from his confrontation with Will.  What should’ve sent the man cowering back to his plow actually brightened his eyes and widened that grin, Rob never being the kind of guy to step back from a challenge he knew he could win.  It was all just a matter of playing it right and catching Will.  If nothing else, the threats gave him leverage.  All he had to do was convince Jules that it had happened like he said, and nothing would stop her from leaving Rob.  This day just kept getting better.
            He finally got to the store and found a mostly empty parking lot.  The weekend warriors had all picked up their supplies and headed on to work their office jobs.  Monday morning was Rob’s time to shop, and for guys like Rob.  He walked past the lawnmowers and the pre-built sheds out front, and even stopped to glance at a grill or two, wondering if he could really afford to replace his old charcoal burner.  When he finally went in, past the automatic doors and the sales associate in an orange apron, Rob went about looking for what he needed.  His main priorities were the wood and the chicken wire, but no trip to Home Depot would be complete without browsing and thinking about building projects.  Rob wasn’t normally the browsing kind, but he could do some looking in a place like this. 
            After a few minutes of aimless wandering, Rob stumbled upon the wood he needed for his fences.  There were tons of choices when it came to lengths and thickness and durability.  He checked each type for quality, looking it over trying to decide if it would hold up for his purposes.  He eventually went with an 8ft post, 4 inches thick at each side, to build his fence.  And now came time to get the chicken wire.  He would start with a wood and wire fence, eventually adding posts across each length to bolster the strength of it when he had the time and money to do so, but for now this would do. 
            He went through the store looking for chicken wire, not really seeing any.  He could find sinks and pipes and locks and all sorts of tools he didn’t need, but nowhere could he find chicken wire.  Finally giving in and forsaking his pride, Rob asked one of the employees, “Hey, you guys still carry chicken wire?”
            “Chicken wire?  I…uh…no, I don’t think we do,” he responded in a long, drawn out thought speak.
            Rob could tell the man wasn’t too sure, so he tried again.  The guy looked new on the job, a middle-aged man who had probably just been fired from his office and forced to take up a job requiring an apron and a reasonable knowledge of home improvement and/or construction.  He had the apron.  “You know, chicken wire.  That stuff you put up for basic fences or Pee-Wee baseball backstops at practice fields or occasionally to actually fence in chickens?  Chicken wire?”  The man still looked hopeless.  “Metal, intertwining wire fences, made up of a lot of little hexagons or something like that?”
            And the light came on.  “Oh!  You mean poultry fences.”
            “What?”
            “Yeah, we have poultry fences.  Right back here, let me show you.”
            Sure enough, there was the chicken wire.  Under the label of a poultry fence.  Despite the fact that he had basically said as much in describing the stuff, his friend, the out of place salesman, still needed some prodding to get it right. 
            “Thanks, sir, I’ll just put this on my cart and head to check-out,” he said, trying to curb any attempts at conversation or further tips the man might give.  He grabbed up a few rolls of poultry fence, also known as chicken wire, and moved the load on down to check-out, picking up a post hole digger along the way.  His was about worn and broken, so it was okay to replace it. 
            When he got to the check-out, Rob felt a little dismay at there only being one register open.  The line was empty, but Rob still didn’t want to use it.  The cashier was a girl that Rob knew from high school named Jenny Miller.  Jenny was a short brunette, about his age, who had always had a thing for Rob.  She was a pretty girl, someone who Rob used to not mind wasting time on.  Jenny didn’t go to Horizon High School.  They’d met elsewhere.  She was a Bronco, and somehow managed to wrangle Rob despite the bitter county rivalry.  They dated for a little while back in high school, even getting pretty serious from Senior year onto about a year later, but nothing ever came of it.  They even managed to have a genial break-up despite all odds.  Rob tried whatever he could to deal with her, sometimes hanging out with her and playing the friend game, sometimes ignoring her completely, and once or twice even trying to reap the benefits of their friendship.  Nothing really felt right when it came to her, so he tried to avoid her when at all possible.  He knew she worked at the Home Depot, but she usually worked night shifts.  Someone must’ve called out. 
            “Rob!  What’re you doing here?”
            “Just getting some fencing supplies.  Deer keep getting into my fields, and I’d really rather they didn’t.”
            “Oh, that’s right, you’ve got that farm going back there.  I guess it’s going pretty well, then?”  Jen cheerily tried to carry on this conversation while she rung up his supplies.  Rob just tried to carry it on until she finished ringing up his supplies.
            “It is.  Mostly hay for the other farmers in the area, but I do grow some corn every once in a while, and I keep some old apple trees.  That’s what the deer mess with most.”
            “Oh, it sounds nice.  I should come out and see it some time.” 
            Trying not to be rude, but not wanting to invite the girl over who had just invited herself, “It’s a nice enough place.  I keep it going on the off days.”
            “Cool, cool.”  They stood there for a second while she finished checking everything out, Rob thinking he was gonna get off easy on this one.  “I was wondering, what are you doing this Friday?”  Jenny asked with a tempting look in her eyes.
            “Some friends of mine are having a fish fry in Horizon.  Probably about…” he wanted to think of a time that would be too late for her to come but too early for her to want him afterwards, “eight o’clock.  Yeah, about eight.  Why?  What’s up?”  He knew dang well he wasn’t going to that fish fry, anyhow, but it just might work for him here for Jenny to think that he was. 
            “Oh, that’s too bad.  See, my parents are having this big anniversary thing at their house this Friday and, I’m supposed to bring a date, and all.  And then they’re leaving after that to go on some big second honeymoon and I’m gonna have to watch the house all alone.  I just thought you might want to…join me?”
            Rob only had himself to blame for this, because he knew it was his own fault for making her think anything would ever come of them.  Truth be told, though, he might have taken her up on the incredibly tempting offer any other time.  He knew well what she meant, and it almost sounded good, but it was time to let the poor girl know the truth.  It just wasn’t gonna happen, and she had Mrs. Jules Baker to thank for that.
            “Look, Jenny.  I, uh, I can’t.”
            “What?  Why not?  Is it the parent’s house thing, because I totally understand.  The thought of it almost creeps me out, too, but they’ve got a guest bedroom.”
            He didn’t have the heart to tell her that it was her who creeped him out and not the house, but whatever.  “No, Jenny, it’s this.  I’ve got somebody else.  You know?  I’ve met somebody, and I can’t just go running around with you anymore.” 
            “Oh.  Really?  Wow.”
            “Yeah, I’m sorry to tell you like this, Jenny, but it wasn’t right, you know?  It wasn’t right to let you keep thinking that I was your go-to guy.”
            “No, it’s not that.  It’s just I always figured you’d end up getting yourself a married woman pregnant, not leave me for some normal, happy relationship.  Just wasn’t your style.”
            After a bout of nervous laughter, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.  Maybe that’ll be next week.  Oh, besides, I just remembered, I’m on shift this Friday night.  I can’t.” 
            “The big fireman, gotta go out and save the day.”
            “Yeah, I’m sorry, Jen.  You gonna be okay?”
            “I’ll be fine.  Just…give me a call when that other girl doesn’t work out for you, okay?  And you know where to find me.”
            Rob broke off the conversation with her pretty easily, carting his wood out to the truck.  He really did feel bad for the girl, especially knowing that it was his fault for dragging her along.  Part of him wondered if that made him feel better about dragging along behind Jules for so long, the fact that he had somebody else feeling what he felt.  Well that was all done, anyway, and now he could focus on other things.  He could finally focus on what it would take to get Jules for himself once and for all.  He had to figure out how he could remove Will from the picture permanently, and then something caught his attention. 
After Rob loaded the wood and poultry fence in his truck, something else caught his nose and his eye.  It was the gardening center next to the store.  He saw it, and he realized what he needed to really get that girl.  It was a garden.  He knew how much she loved to garden, and how much that garden at home meant to her, and Rob knew that if he grew her a garden, he could win. 
He walked into the little tented area.  The shade obviously wasn’t for the benefit of the patrons, because it was just as hot in there with the flowers as it was out in the parking lot.  They kept all sorts of gardening supplies out under that tent, with garden hoses and slate tiles for adding decoration to any garden.  When Rob passed the tomato cages, he couldn’t help but conjure up images of rogue vegetables…fruits running wild in the countryside of Horizon.  The manager in charge of garden supplies walked by and couldn’t help but give Rob a questioning look as he laughed to himself about giant tomatoes going on a rampage through town.  He felt good knowing that seeing Jenny hadn’t completely ruined his good mood. 
He kept admiring the different supplies, spending a few minutes looking at each section of plants from the junipers to the rosebushes, and the lilies and what have you.  He couldn’t find anything that either she didn’t already have in the garden, or he felt would fit appropriately out in front of his house.  He looked and looked, and nothing looked right. 
It was fortunate, then, that he smelled one in particular, out of all of the floral aromas pervading the store, that seemed perfect.  The perfect scent wafted to Rob and gave him a satisfied feeling unlike what he had expected.  When he found the source, it was a large flowering bush that he recognized from his father’s old garden.  He couldn’t remember what it was called, but he knew it was the one he wanted.  There stood a tall, blooming bush with magnificent pink buds all over.  Each bud stuck out from the branch with a long string of smaller flowers hanging off.  The scent that had first caught his attention now drowned out all other feelings and senses with a gentle authority, reminding Rob of nothing but the quietly overwhelming sense of home.  It was perfect, and Rob had to have them. 
He checked out of the garden section, now carrying three large bushes of these pink flowering plants, and he knew this is what would get Jules.  The scent rode with him, making him feel right about everything, but nothing in particular.  He just felt right. 
When Rob got to the truck, he saw one of those fliers sticking out of his windshield.  Someone had gone through and put leaflets under everybody’s wipers telling them about some concert downtown that weekend.  He’d heard of the group before, these guys called Thesaurus Slam, but he’d never got the chance to hear them.  It was too bad.  They seemed like the kind of band he might actually enjoy.  If they hadn’t put a sheet of paper on his truck, he might’ve gone.  Rob hated people messing with his truck.  It was just one more spot on his somewhat lucky day. 
Rob drove down the highway, bushes, soil, wood, and poultry fencing all piled up in the bed of his truck.  He’d spent so long in the store looking at the flowers that it was almost lunch time and he’d abandoned the house for far too long, so Rob went straight on back where he would start planning the garden and the fence, garden first.  The heat had picked up, and the humidity was overwhelming from the storms last night, but none of it even mattered to him.  All that mattered to him was winning that girl and putting to rest all of his worries and desires with her.  Rob was content and satisfied, perhaps since the first time he looked into Jules’ eyes that night out behind the grocery store. 
When he looked into her eyes, it was when he knew that he had to have her, when he knew that he loved her.  He had looked into those eyes again last night, he looked into her eyes again last night and kissed her.  They both looked at each other after that, frightened at the possibilities and the things still undone, and then they both closed their eyes.  The way it should be.  
Rob’s house was still sitting there waiting for him when he got back, plainly sitting atop the hill above his farm just like always.  Rob drove on around back and unloaded the bed of his truck.  The wood was laid out in a pile, the “poultry fence” was laid out in a pile, and the bushes were stood up next to the entry to the barn.  He had to keep them shaded for now until he could figure out where it was best to plant them.  Obviously they would go out in front of the house, but he still had to figure out exactly where.  He’d talk to some folks, get some ideas, and eventually plant them down in his own garden, but for now it just mattered that he cared for them where they were.
After a little time in the barn, Rob decided to go in and have a quick lunch, even if it was a little late.  He hated missing meals, and he hated working without at least a good sandwich, so Rob stopped to eat lunch.  He heated some left over steak and made a banana sandwich, wanting something that was filling but quick.  It all got washed down with the afternoon news and the last glass of milk from his last gallon.  Robert went about cleaning up after himself and started getting ready to work in the field when he saw something he little expected.  Sure he’d meant to call her, but he didn’t think she’d come over so soon.  Work in the field could wait, because his ambiguous day had just become his lucky day. 
She got out of the car with those awful sunglasses covering most of her face, the ones that Rob just hated, but not even that could put him off today.  He’d spent all morning thinking about his beautiful girl and the night he’d been dreaming of for a decade before and every hour since.  “Hey, baby, come on in, it’s burning up out here.  If I’d known you were coming I might’ve cleaned up a little better.”  The place didn’t look too bad, but it wasn’t ready for her company just yet.  He leaned in to kiss her as she came in the door like it was what he was expected to do.  She pushed him away because it was what she was expected to do.    
“Look, Robert, we can’t do this ever again.  It’s over.  It’s over between us, and this can’t happen.”  Now Jules was talking like they’d been together for months instead of just once.  Rob had to wonder just how Will had gotten to her so quickly.  “I love my husband very much, and I can’t let you do this to him.  He’s a good man, and he doesn’t deserve this.” 
“That’s not what you were telling me yesterday,” Rob recalled.  The whole purpose of their getting together the night before had been so Jules could talk to somebody about her frustrations with Will, and she certainly let them out.  She’d called the man about everything she could, and Rob could tell she felt abandoned by him.  So that’s when he made his move, and it just so happened to work out that they once again found themselves behind the grocery store and soaked to the bone. 
 “I was wrong.  He’s not a perfect man, but he is a good man, and I won’t have it anymore.  You’ve always given me these, these sideways looks and winks, and I can’t resist you.  I can’t stop you, and I have to,” her words of inevitability giving Rob at least some confidence back.  “You can’t let me do this to Will.  I love him.”
“Are you trying to convince me or you of that fact?”
“Stop it, Rob!  If you’re really my friend, you’ll leave this alone!  Just stop.  It’s done.”  She had started to get uppity at Rob, throwing him off a little.  He always panicked when she got this excited about anything, because she’d been known to really let loose in the past.  Even so, he had to try and bring her back to his side.  Rob had spent too long as her friend to let Jules bring that label back out on him.  He could see it in her eyes when she had called him a friend, and she meant it to hurt.  She fought dirty.
“Do you remember that night a few years back when you were stuck out in the rain behind the grocery store?  And I promised to give you a ride home, but you were all soaking wet and had to dry off in the back room?  Do you remember that?”  He knew she did, or else nothing the night before would’ve worked.  “I think about that all the time.  And I think you do, too.  I wonder, what would’ve happened to us if we would’ve gotten together that night?” 
“I don’t think about it, and I don’t know,” returned Jules, her voice a little shakier now that her vicious diatribe was done.
“I think you do, baby.  I think you do.”  He could play the name game, too, and he did to great effect as he whispered in her ears everything she wanted to hear.  “I would do anything to keep you with me.  I can’t let you go, Jules.  I just can’t.  It took me so many years to get you here, I can’t let you leave me.”  By now, his arms were around her waist and he could feel her breath on his neck, behind the ears, as he whispered softly to her.  She fell into him without resistance, and he knew the game was working.
“How do we do this, Robby?  How do we do this?  I have to be in your arms, but I can’t.” 
Rob let her push away some, but only because she was crying.  He didn’t want to make her cry.  He pulled her back in after a second and whispered to her softly, one more time, telling her that everything she felt and everything she wanted was right there and was perfectly open to her, “Sssh, sssh.  It’s okay.  The first time…” he thought for the words, seeking what he really wanted to say and what he knew would bring her back to him again, “the first time is passion.  The second time is compliance.”  She looked up at Rob, as tall as she was having to crane her neck into his eyes as a little girl would to look up at God, the tears forming on her eyelids.  He kissed the tears away on her eyes, then she came the rest of the way and returned his kiss. 
Although it was only the second time that Rob and Jules had been together, really together, he knew that this moment was bliss.  He knew that this moment was what he wanted and that he would do anything to protect it.  To keep it forever. 
The two came together that afternoon, fully in love and touch, letting the afternoon sun give way to the bedroom’s night.  As they lay there together, the young lady drifting off to sleep in his arms, Rob whispered to her again.  “I want to grow you a garden, babygirl.  Would you like it if I did that?”
There were no words, but she sighed and pushed up against him in a sleepy stretch that he took for a yes.  And Rob just lay there, feeling her with him, and right this time.  Not just in a frenzied passion reminiscent of his adolescent fantasies, but really together.  He was afraid to move, knowing that waking her up would collapse the moment.  When he did finally move his arms away from her, her body quivered again as his touch grazed her skin, but she slept on.  Rob started to dress, knowing what he had to do.  He knew it was time for him to fight for the girl he loved, and he knew that it meant just going up that banker and calling him out for abandoning such a beautiful girl.  It meant shaming him for leaving such a perfect woman with an empty love that would neither cover her nor satisfy her.  It meant ignoring the threats and bringing the fighter to his knees.  But just to be safe, Rob grabbed his gun out of the drawer.  It was an old revolver his dad had kept around the house for security, and now Rob kept it around to think of the man in his life that had been taken too soon.  He knew that this act may well be the end of him, but Rob knew it was far better to give up your life knowing you had done all you could rather than to give up your soul to secure a better future.
As he finished tying his shoes, Rob’s phone rang from the pocket of his recently replaced blue jeans.  “Hello?”
“Rob, hey, it’s Joe.”  The cop on the other end was not what Rob had hoped for right now, but there wasn’t much he could do but listen.
“Joe, hey, how are you?  You still on shift?”  The attempt at reminding the man he was on the clock didn’t produce the desired effect.  Rob spoke as softly as he could, hoping the combination of loud talk and a ringing phone wouldn’t wake Jules. 
“Yeah, I’m still on.  Hey, Rob, wh…why are you whispering?”
“Whispering?  No, I’m not.  It’s my throat, my throat hurts.”
“You’re a bad liar, Rob, what’s going on?”
“I’m trying to keep quiet, yeah, that’s all.” 
“But why?  Why are you trying to keep quiet?  You live alone on a farm, Rob.”  Rob hated being friends with a cop.  “Who’s there with you?”
“Just some girl.”  He thought about telling him it was Jenny from the store, but being that specific in a lie might come back to bite him.  “She needed a place to stay, she’s been having a real tough time and needed a friend.”  Rob took the call out of the bedroom and let his volume come up a bit.  “I’m not doing anything wrong, I promise you.”
“God, Rob.  It’s Mrs. Baker, isn’t it?  You’re doing the banker’s wife.”
“No, no.  It’s…” and here’s where Rob knew lying was just too exhausting to be worthwhile, “yeah, you’re right, it’s her.  But she doesn’t love him, Joe.  And we go back.  We’ve got a history.” 
“Just tell me you two ain’t got a future, Rob.  That guy’s dangerous, Rob, and that girl’s not any better.  Something’s gonna happen to you, boy, and I’m not gonna be able to help you.” 
“I know what I’m doing, okay?  Look, I’m gonna end it with her, but not yet.  I can’t, not now.”  Rob had no intention of ending anything except Will’s hold on her, but Joe didn’t need to know that. 
“You send that girl home right now, you hear me, Rob?  You send that girl home to her husband right now, he’s here waiting on her.”
“You mean to tell me he’s home right now?”  The news of Will’s present location made the thought of a confrontation instantly more dangerous and equally more tempting. 
“You don’t do it, Rob, I said send her home.  Don’t you dare go over there with her.” 
“I’ll call you later, Joe.  Have a good evening.” 
“Rob, don’t you do it, I swear, I’ll…” Rob could hear Joe saying as he hung up the phone.  He had no intentions of going over there to see Will with her.  Jules was going to stay at the house and watch the farm.  Or just lay in bed waiting for her man to come back and find her sleeping.  Either way worked for Rob.  
He sat in the barn for a minute before cranking the truck, wondering if this really was a good idea.  It took Rob some time, but he pushed the idea of fear out of his mind.  Rob would have to resolve himself that this was the right thing to do before he would crank that GMC up, and it was no easy task.  Impatience finally found Rob out on the road with the windows down and the radio off.  He had to focus on getting this done. 
Rob parked his truck about two blocks down from the Baker house and one block off the strip.  There was a small church there where he could leave it in the parking lot and no one would notice.  The plan was for Rob to walk over to the Baker house from here.  If something went wrong and Will did something stupid, he wouldn’t see Rob’s truck to dispose of it, and investigators might be able to piece together what happened.  If Rob did something stupid and, Heaven forbid, shot Will, then his car wouldn’t be too close to the scene for anyone to tie him to it immediately.  It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was all that Rob had. 
He walked quickly in the July heat, not wanting to attract too much attention.  He’d already decided on leaving the flannel over shirt in his car it was so hot, and a guy walking down the road in a white t-shirt, jeans, and work boots would probably get some attention in the quiet streets of Horizon, GA.  Rob’s focus was on nothing but his words and the coming confrontation.  Rob knew what he was going to say, that he was going to tell Will he would never give up Jules, he thought about threatening him a little with Joe and telling him that his cop friend knew where Rob was going and he expected a phone call or whatever nonsense.  Or not, really.  Rob didn’t want to cause trouble for his friend, especially the kind that could get him shot again. 
He ran the script through his head, over and over, making sure everything was right, until he finally saw the Baker house.  Rob saw the garden first, then Will’s Charger, then the front door.  Should he knock on the door, or break it down?  Knocking on it sounded best.  He went and knocked on the door.  No answer came.  He tried again, and still no answer came.  Finally, he tried just opening the door.  Surprisingly, the banker had left his door unlocked.  Rob slowly opened the door and then pulled it shut behind him. 
“Will!  Will, I wanna talk to you.”  Rob was standing in the welcome area right before the living room, still turned and looking at the door he’d just now closed.  “I’m not giving up your girl.  She’s not happy with you, Will.  She’s not happy with you, and that’s why she’s laying in my bed, in my house, waiting on me to get back to her.  So you know what, it’s over for you two.  You can shoot me if you want, but you’ll never have your wife back.  You hear me, Baker?”
How could Will not respond to this call?  Perhaps he wasn’t really home, or maybe he was sitting and waiting calmly, preparing to surprise Rob when he least expected it.  Maybe he was just out back in a hammock, Rob really didn’t know.  All Rob knew is that it would have been impossible for him to ignore a challenge like that, and he figured Will was the same way. 
“My friend, Officer Rodriguez, the cop, is waiting to hear back from me.  If I don’t call him back in ten minutes, he’s sending in the SWAT.”  It sounded as fake as it was, but Rob had to try. 
Against his own better judgment, Rob moved further in the house.  He thought about following the stairs down into the basement, but he went into the living room instead…and immediately wished he hadn’t.  There in the middle of the floor lay a lifeless man, face down, breathing in the carpet.  Rob instinctively reached down to check for a pulse or for breathing, only barely being able to even make out the man’s lips due to the intense beating he’d taken to the head.  Whoever had wanted him dead had done a pretty bang up job of it.  He was definitely dead.  Rob couldn’t find a pulse, almost unable to even find the proper place in all the blood and carnage before him.  He put his ear down to the soft blue collared shirt that Will had been wearing as he accosted Rob, very much alive, just a few hours ago.  The same shirt was now beyond recognition, beyond identification, having been drenched in the same horror as the rest of the body and this God-forsaken home.  Rob knew that Will was dead and that he would be the first suspect. 
His hands were covered in blood from trying to find a pulse or heartbeat, so he wiped his hands on his own shirt, there being no place to avoid blood on Will’s Van Heusen.  As he left the broken body there before him, Rob dialed his friend the cop while running out of the house in a fevered panic.  The horrified farm boy had never seen a scene to compare with Will’s house.  Even as a fireman, the calling card of death had never been so plainly laid out in front of his eyes as it had been this night. 
“What do you want, Evans?  I do not have time for you right now.”
“Joe!  He’s dead!  Somebody’s…he’s dead, Will’s dead.”
“What did you do?  What did you do, Rob?”
“What?  Me?  No, Joe, no…I…no.” 
“What happened, Robby?” 
“I just…the blood, man, he’s dead.”
“Okay, look.  Get home, wake that girl up, and get her over there.  She needs to be there as soon as we show up if possible.” 
“Right, yeah, right.  What else?”
“You’re gonna be there with her, and we’re gonna talk about this when I see you there.”
“You mean I have to go back?”  The last thing Rob wanted was to see that house again, or experience the horrors he only glanced at inside, but with greater detail.  He was afraid of cops forcing him to look at it, frightening him into a false confession. 
“Yes.  You’re going back there with Mrs. Baker, and you’re gonna tell me what you did.  I’ve gotta go call this in.  Now just do it!” 
Rob didn’t feel like arguing when Joe hung up with him after Rob had done the same thing to him just a few minutes earlier.  Instead, he ran to the truck like he was running from Death himself, and started it up without even thinking.  Rob flew home, thinking that all of the police in the area would be too busy getting to a murder scene to worry about a speeding truck.  He passed the station on his way home, and sure enough, everybody was rushing out and starting up their blue lights and their sirens.  Rob just kept on going, hoping that Joe wouldn’t see his truck. 
Robert Evans pulled into the driveway of his little farm house and left the motor running with the keys in the ignition and the parking brake on.  He didn’t have time to think about his course of action, he just knew he had to get undressed so that Jules wouldn’t see the blood before he had a chance to speak.  Rob threw the blood stained mess in the garbage before he even got in the house, just being covered by his summer flannel.  He slammed the door behind him with no consciousness of how that would affect a sleeping girl.  Rob tried to wash his hands under a scalding sink, hoping to remove the stain of her dead husband’s life from under his nails.  When that was all done, he ran into the bedroom and tried ripping his shoes off.  While standing one legged and out of his mind, Rob heard Jules start to stir and speak, startling him off balance onto the floor. 
“Where do you think you’re going, Robert Evans?”  After he hit the ground, he heard her apologize a bit too late.  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry, are you okay?  Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Rob groaned, almost forgetting why he was so shaken in the first place, then remembering why he had been trying to undress. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, Robby.  What time is it?  Oh wow, I need to be going.  I guess I fell asleep.  See, this is how it’s supposed to work.  You don’t leave me alone, it’s your house.  I’m the one who leaves.  I’ve gotta go home and get dinner ready for Will.”  Rob couldn’t speak at hearing that man’s name, the man he once hated so viciously.  Now he couldn’t even control the muscles of his face and keep them from betraying him.  “What’s wrong?”  And still he wouldn’t speak.  “Rob, what’s wrong?” 
“You need to get dressed.”
“Rob.  What is going on.”
He tried to bite the words back without telling her, but Rob had to say it no matter what.  “Baby,” he said, taking her hand, “I just got a call from the station.  They found him laying on the floor.”  Even as vague as he was being, Rob couldn’t help but see that image again, this tortured carcass engulfed by a warm red spot.
“Be honest with me, Rob.  What are you saying?  Who’d they find?  It’s not Will, it’s not Will.”  She spoke swiftly, trying to talk herself out of the truth.
“I’m sorry, baby, it is, it is.”  He knew all too well how true it was.  She started beating Rob in grief, and it took all he had to keep her from throwing this giant of a man back to the floor.  “You need to get dressed now, we have to go.”
“No!  No!  It’s not, it’s not!”
“I’m sorry, baby, but they found him beaten to death on the floor.  It’s your husband.  Will’s dead.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: We're drawing ever closer to the end of this mystery, and I hope you're still enjoying it.  I certainly am enjoying writing it for all of y'all!  If you're curious or confused about the odd nature of the numbering, go check out my Facebook page and see what it says there.  I wrote a note explaining why episode 6 has been temporarily passed over, and will not be posted in order.  I'll put it out in a few weeks when it fits better in the timeline.  It just wouldn't make sense yet.  Also, please tell your friends about 42Cobras!  It's a great experience for me writing this, but no amount of writing is really worthwhile if you can't share it with people.  Otherwise, what's the point?  You know? I want y'all to read it, tell me what you think, and share your comments/questions/theories with me.  I want to know what you think is going on here in Horizon.  So, for now, I hope you enjoyed Episode 7, and I look forward to posting Episode 8 for all of you next week.  I'll go ahead and warn you, I have no idea when I'll get next week's episode posted, because next Friday I'll be busy with my final exams and moving out of the halloed TLN-Part I.  Later, folks!  And keep using those :42: Facebook chat icons, if for no other reason than that it's a whole lot of fun.  

Friday, July 16, 2010

There is no new episode today. I'm no vacation. Check back tomorrow and we'll see if I have the ability to post.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Will Baker is Dead, Episode 5 - "Mere Acceptance"

The pain in his shoulder smoothed itself away as he started rotating the bones about within their shell.  The ache in his neck took a little longer, given the restraining nature of his soft, dead pillow.  His knees, the worst offenders, cracked with each bend, made worse by the pops in the big man’s hip as he had to raise his legs to bend them.  The cool night breeze, coupled with the tense air of the passing storm, made each joint rack as if it were mutilated by the slightest change in the weather.  Sleep had not come easy for the man ever since taking two shots in the line of duty, and it was just another day of duty for Officer Rodriguez.  At least he could take solace in knowing that it was the middle of summer.  Those winter winds really made it hard to get up in the morning, especially when the sun was still about two hours off. 
The clock showed 5am, so his alarm was still thirty minutes coming.  Even so, Joseph Rodriquez knew that sleep was done for him, as the constant aches in his body meant that the next thirty minutes had best be spent on stretches and a hot shower instead of the preferred relaxation of a dream-filled sleep.  That was the only comfort he had left: dreams.  The shooting wasn’t all that ruined him, though it helped.  Officer Rodriguez was getting older, and he was getting lonelier.  It took him much longer to get ready in the morning, and Joe never could sleep much, so he was running on fumes perpetually.  That kind of wear made a cop’s job hard to complete, but Rodriguez managed to get it done. 
Joe dragged over to the shower, tripping over last night’s pants as he went.  The hot water was a good start, bringing some ease to his pain.  He stood under the water for what was a short-lived eternity, massaging each limb and joint extensively before once again subjecting himself to the cruel cold that was a July morning in Horizon.  So it wasn’t a life threatening temperature, but to a man of Officer Rodriguez’s unfortunate state, anything of the sort brought pain enough to make him wish it were.  Before the shower water started to wear off, Officer Rodriguez, a 25 year veteran of local police, stepped over to the sink and poured himself a glass.  Looking at the cop on the other side, hating what had become of this lonely husk that was once a respectable police officer, he took out his last pill and popped the prescriptives that were written out for an older woman on the other side of town.  This was who Officer Rodriguez had become, and this was who Officer Rodriguez hated more than anything else.  And what he hated more was the sudden need to call that kid and put in a new order.  He pulled out his phone, haunted by the picture of him and his long gone wife, to send the dealer a text message: i’m out and need more. where and when?  call me. 
The worst parts of the morning routine were over, so the officer was able to sit and enjoy a cup of coffee over a morning paper that had just arrived while he was brewing up a new pot.  The pain in his body slowly leaked away with the aroma of Colombian beans and the feeling of pharmaceutical aid, almost keeping at bay the other pains he remembered with the scent of coffee and cream at his table.  An officer’s sunrise, that period of the day where he was awake but it was still rather dark out, always reminded Joe of the days when he and Mrs. Rodriguez would sit and enjoy coffee together before he would head off to the station and she would go back to bed, only staying up long enough to enjoy breakfast and the paper with her husband. 
It had been about three years since she had been in their home.  Mrs. Rodriguez was ever so proud of her husband, but ever the more fearful for him.  A policeman’s wife never really knows comfort, always wondering if she would get that call or not.  With him it was even worse.  He came home.  She had to look at him day in and day out, tending to his every need for the first year.  After he was able to do some things for himself, she split, unable to take the constant reminder of how easily she could lose him again, and unable to accept the fact that he would never be whole again.  Joe begged her to return, writing letters to her family and trying to get their help, but no one would tell him where she had gone.  No one would tell him where she ran off to, so he was left with nothing more than pictures and two scars that she once kissed and helped make better. 
The slow roasted morning brought Joe out of a fog, so he gathered up his things and went on in to the station.  He drove an unmarked car, these days, having been put on “special assignment” ever since returning to the field.  Special assignment most literally translated to easy duty, never forcing Officer Rodriguez to experience a situation where he would be shot, or asking him to endure too much physical exertion.  He was getting old, and he was getting slow.  A slow cop was only good to talk to school kids and check into minor crimes.  They promised him a full return soon, but soon never came.  So every day, Officer Joseph Rodriguez, hero of the county police stationed in Horizon, went in to the station in a non-descript suit with his unmarked car, lacking any real insignia to prove he was an officer.  The man just was, and that’s all they ever asked him to be.
He arrived early for roll call, still sipping coffee out of the County Police Dept. thermos he carried around, the silver kind with black lettering and detail, just one of the many perks of being a plainclothes officer with no power.  Sherriff Conway, a large man in many ways, one of them being his Sherriff typical curly moustache, walked in at precisely 6:50am, ten minutes before roll call was supposed to begin.  “Good morning, old buddy.  How are we doing this fine Summer morning?”
The fat man was cheery at this time of day, and that bothered Joe.  But, being that it was his boss, Joe couldn’t let it show.  “Doing fine, sir.  I can’t complain,” when in fact that’s all Joe wanted to do.  “What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?” 
“It was my wife and mine’s anniversary yesterday.  You know what I’m saying, ol’Joe?” 
“Yes, sir, I think I do.”  Joe put a soft grin out there, as required by the unwritten demands of superiority, but threatened by the utter disgust in his mind.  “I’m happy for you.” 
The two talked for a bit, most of the conversation coming from Sherriff Conway in his upbeat drawl, a drawl that slowed down a bit as the conversation wore on and the hour started to catch up to him.  Eventually the other officers had arrived for their shift and Sherriff Conway began the rundown. 
“Good morning, gentlemen.  I trust that everyone had a good weekend, but it’s back to work now,” one of the men grumbling about weekend duty and how his was just wonderful.  “Last night wasn’t too eventful, but let’s go down the list, see what happened here in our district.  Miss Emma, you’ve dealt with her before, Officer Callaway, called in another monster sighting on her property.  It turned out to be a deer…well, two deer making noises.”  A subdued chuckle from the gallery was cut short by Conway’s stare.  “We had a prowler call out in the 3000 block of the Horizon St. strip, but turned out to be the homeowner working in his garden at an ungodly hour.  Uhh…let’s see.  We had a few speeding tickets out on the highway, one DUI on Church St., and oh yeah.  Looks like there was a break-in over at the Minit Save on Horizon and Third Avenue.  No real surprises there, report came in an hour ago when the owner was opening shop.  Probably some missing cash, and a busted lock.  Nothing special.  Any volunteers want to start their day checking up on that situation?”  The silence of the crowd fell right in where expected for such a thankless and mundane assignment.  Joe thought he might as well volunteer for it, seeing as how it would inevitably fall on him anyway. 
“Sure, yeah.  I got that one.” 
“Thank you, Officer Rodriguez.  That oughta be a good warm-up for you.  As for the rest of you, you should have your assignments for the shift.  Check your areas, keep the routes clean, and keep your eyes open.  Serve and protect, boys.  Oh, and whoever has the block out by the old bridge, go check on Miss Emma.  Make sure she was able to get out of bed this morning after her traumatizing ordeal last night.”  And with one last laugh at poor old Miss Emma’s expense, the crew was off. 
It hadn’t been a particularly long roll-call that morning, with everyone arriving on time and very few issues to run through, so Officer Rodriguez had mounted up the car and left the station by 7:30am.  The sky was clear, but the roads had traces of fog, the Summer sun meeting the cool of the rains from the night before, leaving that eerie effect all about the place.  It was a light fog, the kind that you could easily miss without much trying, but it was certainly there.  The benefit to being Officer Rodriguez was that he could turn on his car radio and not have to worry too much.  Occasionally he would miss a call-out, but never anything he was wanted at, anyway.  This morning, fitting perfectly with the fog, he was listening to some of the softer Creedence on that Atlanta rock station.  Somehow, though he wasn’t sure how, he could tell that there was a bad moon rising. 
After the short drive through town, made longer by having to observe the speed limits in his on-duty car, Officer Rodriguez made it up to the Minit Save on the strip, Horizon St.  He was slated to open up at 8am, so Joe would have to look around fast before customers ruined the scene.  By sending him, the police department admitted that this incident wasn’t important enough to put a lot of resources in to, so odds were the owner wouldn’t be requested to keep the store closed for the morning. 
“Thank goodness you’re here, Joe.  Those kids broke into my store again.”
“What kids, Frank?” 
“You know.  Those new kids in town.  Those gang kids.  They broke into my store and they stole all the money in the register.”  He tried to avoid the more descriptive terms that would really get at his meaning, mostly due to the rules of what you could or couldn’t say in polite society.  Frank had run the Minit Save in town for as long as most anyone could remember, and he was about as ornery as he ever had been with the rash of “small crimes” in the area.  He was always reporting a vandalism that was more likely caused by raccoons than some other masked bandit, or a robbery when he misplaced a little cash.  And he always blamed it on the ubiquitous “new kids in town.”  The man has one run-in with some unruly teenagers back in the mid-80s, and its all American Graffiti from there.  At least that’s how he described it, his only knowledge of the movie coming from the word “graffiti” in the title. 
“Have you checked the tape yet, Frank?”
“No, just got in, myself.  Figured I should show up to open the store, right?  I’ll go do that right now.  Just let me go unlock the pumps, I don’t want to miss the morning rush, you know.”
“Oh, Frank.  Before you go check that tape, how much money did they steal from the register?”
“Let’s see, uh, there was a fill-up about 8:49, then uh, Miss Emma came in and bought some Michelobs from the back, and then, uh…”
            “Frank.  How much?”
“Oh, yes, uh, $17.89.”
“That all, Frank?”
“Oh yes, that’s all.  I put most of it in the safe last night, and with all they spilled out on the floor in a hurry to get away, that’s all I seem to be missing.” 
“I’ll see you later, Frank.  Just check the tape and tell me what you see.”  Joe had taken about all of it he could handle this morning, with the roll-call and the pain and aches he put up with just to do this job he used to love, and he didn’t have the mind to sit through another day like this, not right now. 
“But aren’t you gonna check the scene?  Make sure there’s nothing else missing, or no big clues?  I wouldn’t feel right opening the store without you here to check the place, or protect me in case they come back for revenge.  I hear that’s how those foreign gang kids operate.  I tell you, this town’d be better off if all that foreign trash would just leave us alone.  Can’t stand them running around like they belong here, trashing my store and scaring away my customers.”  Joe didn’t bother pointing out to the idiot his own last name, thinking it might be indicative of something beyond Horizon, no matter how many generations removed he was.  “Yep.  It’s all ‘cause of them that good folk like me and you can’t make it along here.”
Joe’s grandfather came to Horizon a good many years back and married a local woman, just one incident that helped push the town further and further, eventually coming to a head back in the mid-50s.  His father had also married a white woman from town a little later, but by then it wasn’t so bad.  People were really able to handle it pretty well by the time Joe came into the picture, and Horizon was growing ever more accepting, but there were always pockets.  There was always the occasional Frank or whoever that Joe had to deal with, never really taking the brunt of it seeing as he was big, a cop, and two generations removed.  But still, it was moments like this one that made him feel even more outside of things than usual. 
After considering the options, one being to drive around wasting his time and the other being to sit in the store and waste his time, Officer Rodriguez conceded.  He started by examining the door, making Frank promise to hold off opening up for another five minutes, then checking each corner of the store for “clues” and “evidence” in a case that would never get past the curb outside.  He swept around every corner of the store, looking for anything that was truly out of place and not just misplaced due to Frank’s horrible store-keeping habits.  All this time, for going on ten minutes now, people had been coming in and out of the store, buying their morning coffee or grabbing a newspaper.  Most folks in Horizon had to leave town for work, and as this store was one of the closest to the highway while still being in town, it was about the only time of the day where Frank paid the rent, so to speak. 
One of the folks that Officer Rodriguez saw come in was an old friend from the fire department, Rob Evans.  Rob had been a fireman for a few years now and had worked with Rob a little during his training, seeing as how Joe was just getting off of his rehab assignment.  Joe had also been there at the site of Mr. Evans’ accident, and had helped the pastor notify Rob of what had happened, so they went back a ways.  He’d known the kid growing up some, recognized that farmer’s brow and broad shouldered fireman even from back behind the store at the slushie counter.  Trying to stay professional, Officer Rodriguez didn’t bother to stop and talk to the guy while he was on duty, just opting for the manly head nod. 
Officer Rodriguez kept his back to the door and his eyes to the ground, examining every inch of the store with exceptional precision.  He heard the entrance chime go a few times, never bothering to check the personnel responsible for making the noise.  The slushie counter was clean, the chips aisle didn’t feature anything odd other than one bag of Doritos having been gnawed open by mice.  It wasn’t on the shelf anymore.  The cop checked each aisle closely, looking up eventually to see if Frank was back watching tape or making money.  On one of these routine glances, though, Joe saw his friend Rob having a quiet discourse with an obscured gentleman.  Officer Rodriguez, though he was somewhat out of practice, could still read the hint of fear in his friend’s eyes, something he didn’t expect to see from an amateur farmer standing a good six inches above his assailant. 
Since his friend’s safety meant more than recovering missing pocket change from Frank’s store, an amount that wouldn’t even secure a Constitutional “Jury of Peers” for Frank, Joe started to incidentally ease towards the door where the two men were jawing. 
“Hey, Rob.  How’re the crops looking?”
“Oh…hey there, Joe.  They’re doing well, mostly looking good this season.”  Just as Joe thought, his friend seemed out of sorts, almost caught off guard, something that wasn’t common for this champion of bravado. 
“What’re you boys talking about over here?”  And now he recognized the other man.  Rob’s companion finally turned to face the officer, revealing his face and name.  Before, all that Officer Rodriguez could see was the back of a young white man’s head, a little short of six feet and maybe 180 lbs, brown hair with a clearly professional cut.  The man’s suit, a light blue dress shirt with long sleeves and gold cufflinks, offset by the contrasting white collar, indicated an indoor job of some kind.  Though his constable’s instincts served him well, Officer Rodriguez could until now come up with nothing more than the description of thirty percent of the men in Horizon.  In case he needed to, Officer Joseph Rodriguez could never have picked the man out of a crowd before, but as soon as he turned to look at the cop, Joe recognized Will Baker instantly. 
Just like with Rob’s dad, Officer Rodriguez remembered Will most for the tragedies in his life.  He was one of the first officer’s on scene when Nikki Baker was killed by an alleged drunk driver while crossing the street after a big Horizon football win.  This was all well before Rodriguez’s own accident, back when he was still considered a prime cop and a worthwhile husband and father.  A happy time for him, really.  Though he’d never really had many dealings with the Baker family before, it was hard not to recognize them after the court ordeal that was Nikki’s case.  Will was much younger then, maybe six or seven years younger, but those eyes had not changed the least bit.  It was him, alright. 
“We’re just talking about that Braves game last night, Officer.  We were disagreeing on whether or not this is Chipper’s last season,” Will said, indicating Rob as he spoke.  “You a baseball fan, Officer…Rodriguez?”
“Oh, yeah.  Great game last night, finishing up that sweep of the Phils.  McCann launching one in the eighth to put us back up, that new kid, Heyward, coming in and knocking a few guys home.  It was a great game.” 
Rob took his turn, going back to the other topic.  “I don’t think Chipper’s done yet.  He’s still playing a really good game right now.  I think he’s poised to have a pretty good season, even if it is his last.  I’m thinking he’s gonna put in a pretty good game this afternoon, if you ask me.”
“See, I’m pretty sure he’s done.  You know him.  You never can tell when his last game will be.  I wouldn’t be too surprised if he didn’t even make the lineup today.  If he didn’t even play this afternoon,” Will clearly disagreeing.
“He’ll have a good game today, you just wait and see.”  The two men stared, giving something away to the cop, especially given how hard they weren’t trying to hide it. 
“Hey, guys.  Braves are off tonight.  It’s a travel day down south.  Marlins, coming up, I think.” 
Rob, embarrassed he’d slipped up so obviously.  “Oh, yeah.  Well, I never pay much attention to the schedule.  I figure I’ll wind up listening to it no matter what, why care who they’ve got coming up?” 
“Right.  Well, friends, I hate to cut the water cooler chat short, but the bank won’t open itself.  Have a good morning, officer.  Rob,” his tone changing ever so slightedly when dealing with Rob, “have a good day.” 
Will walked on out with his coffee in his left hand, sunglasses down and sleeves rustling as he moved, right hand down in the pants packet of the same side.   Both men watched this character saunter on out to his car, a two-year old Charger back from when they started making them again.  Banker, indeed. 
“What have you got yourself into now, Rob?”
“It’s nothing.  Just a friendly competition is all.  And it’s one I plan on winning.” 
“You be careful.  I can’t help you if you get into anything, Evans, and that guy’s trouble.  I can tell.  And if I’m not mistaken, I think he had a gun in his pocket.” 
“You think so?  A banker?”  Rob just looked off after the departing banker, now easing on to Horizon St. off towards the center of town, out where the grocery store and the bank and all were.  The fear in his eyes was gone, replaced now by the more common hint of a grin, that farmer’s optimism he held on to.  It could be described as wide-eyed, or gleaming, or wily.  Either way, Joe recognized those eyes, and he knew those eyes were looking at trouble. 
“You be careful, that’s all I’m saying.” 
Rob went on off, similarly with coffee in hand.  His old truck sat out in the parking lot, filled up for a market run.  Probably going to the big hardware store a couple towns over for his weekly supplies.  Joe knew how rigorously and strictly Rob ran that farm during the summer months, or at least when his shift allowed him to stick to routine, and Rob was on the second day off between shifts.  He had plenty of time to get his supplies, flirt with the cashier, and do whatever other things he might need to get done on Monday before going back to work the next morning at 8am. 
The store was clean, nothing yielded up to help the old policeman figure out what happened.  Frank had finally gone back to his security tapes when the morning customers filed out, and he finally called Officer Rodriguez to the backroom.  “Come look, Joe, come look!  I think I got’em!”  Sure enough, there were four teenagers walking around in front of the store, looking around for witnesses or cameras or cops.  The time stamp indicated 3:13am, and his years of police experience told Officer Rodriguez that nothing good was about to come of this.  In a flash, they were in the door. 
“Run it back.” 
“How far back?” 
“Just run it back…stop!” 
“What is it?  What do you see?” 
“Frank, do you see how fast those kids got in your door?”
“Yeah, fast.  They must have practice picking locks, right?”
“I can’t tell from this video.  But you know what I can tell?”
“What’s that?  Do you recognize them?  Do you think you could pick’em up this afternoon and get my money back?”
“No, that’s not it.  I can tell that you should probably learn to lock your doors at night, Frank.  All they had to do was pull on the door.  It wasn’t even locked.” 
Frank spent a good few minutes apologizing to Officer Rodriguez then sent him on his way.  The store owner declined to press formal charges out of embarrassment.  The scraggly old man couldn’t risk his pride by filling out a police form where he must admit leaving his store doors unlocked, much less for only a handful of missing money, much less admit falling prey to those thieving teenagers and their gang influences.  Feeling even more reassured at his uselessness on the job, Officer Rodriguez pulled on out of the Minit Save and back through town, watching the day to day activities of small town Georgia unfold as they had an infinite number of times before, and as they were in an infinite number of towns all over the country.  Nobody watched what happened in Horizon closer than the dedicated and self-loathing cop, but only because nobody really watched what happened in Horizon at all. 
He left the Minit Save feeling uneasy about what happened between Rob and that banker.  And his cop instincts were almost never wrong.  Officer Rodriguez just knew that something more was coming between the two men.  It was still early in the day, and the station didn’t have any more pressing issues for Joe to check out, so he thought a trip to the bank on a Monday morning was in order.  It was about 10am by the time he got to the bank, giving the early morning customers time to come through and time to spare before the lunchtime crowd would start showing up.  He sat in the car for a second, trying to see if he could gather what was going on just from a brief but candid observation, but nothing came.  “Dispatch, I’ve got a 10-25 on a Will Baker, works down at the bank.  Copy?” 
“Copy, Rodriguez.  I’ll get back to you when we get something.”  Officer Rodriguez figured it wouldn’t hurt to check the man’s possible criminal background, and so the real investigation began. 
The Monday morning bank had in fact settled down, 10:13 showing on the clock, conversely a tight 89˚ and rising already displayed on the thermometer.  The new bank had been open just a few years, now.  They had some troubles at first, being hit by a shrouded, serial robber just about two months after opening.  It was in fact this Horizon bank where police cornered and killed the mystery suspect, all this taking place during Officer Rodriguez’s “down-time,” so of course he didn’t get to participate in the action.  That was a violent stretch for Horizon, with Joe’s shooting and the bank robbery happening pretty close, but things calmed down soon after.  Since then, not much had really happened in the way of action in Horizon, and for once Officer Rodriguez really hoped the trend would continue at least a little longer.
The large glass doors swung open with ease, at first.  On the inside, though, he couldn’t get the second layer open.  No matter how hard he pushed, even checking to make sure they weren’t pull doors, the stubborn doors resisted Officer Rodriguez just a little longer.  The clerks and tellers, all noticing the frantic action at their front door, started looking a little panicked.  Of course, Officer Rodriguez finally remembered the new system they had installed after their first robbery, the highlight feature being a built-in metal detector that bolted the doors.  After flashing his badge, someone flipped a switch to let him in. 
At first, the banker he wanted wasn’t visible.  Rodriguez knew he was there, after all a car that nice didn’t go unnoticed in the parking lot no matter how full it was.  After a second or two of looking, Officer Rodriguez saw the man, Will, step out from one of the back offices.  Trying to act casual, as they say, he walked over to the counter and just waited for a reaction. 
“Good morning, and welcome.  How can I help you sir?” 
“I was wondering if you had a place where we could go and talk?” 
“You’re a little early today, aren’t you supposed to wait until…” finally noticing the badge plopped out in front of him, “Oh.  Of course sir, right back here.  Mrs. Williams, hold my calls.  I’ll be meeting with the officer indefinitely.”
Will Baker and Joe Rodriguez sat across from each other, a solid 18 inches of rich wood between them forming the banker’s desk.  All across the desk were pictures of the banker and a beautiful young woman.  She was about his age with long blonde hair and a smile fit for a goddess.  “Is this your wife?”
“Yes, sir.  She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” 
“I’ll say she is.”  And now Officer Rodriguez was starting to get the idea that she was part of the problem here.  Knowing Rob the way he did, it made plenty of sense.  There was another picture on the desk, he noticed, with Will Baker, an older couple he recognized to be Mr. and Mrs. Baker, and a lovely brunette once named Nikki Baker.  “You don’t remember me, do you, Will?”
“Excuse me?”
“From that night.  From the night your sister was hit by a…”
“By a drunk driver, no, I don’t remember you.  Did you make the notification?”
“I did.  But I was also the first officer on scene.  I sat with her while the EMTs arrived, not that it ended up mattering.”
“I wasn’t there, Officer.  I was still inside the stadium with,” he paused and waited a moment, “somebody.  She was crossing the street to meet me, though.  I’d told her not to be late so we could get home quick.”
“I don’t know you too well, and I don’t know if it’s too much of me to assume this, but you should know it wasn’t your fault.”
            “I know that, officer.  It was Ames’ fault.  He’s the one who hit my sister, and he was already drunk at 9:30pm on a Friday night.  Trust me, officer, I know who killed my sister, and it sure wasn’t me.  Might I ask what you’re doing here?”
While Will was talking, Officer Rodriguez took the liberty of examining his mail and the other contents of his desk.  “I see some of your mail is incorrectly addressed, unless of course you’re name is actually Bill Walker.” 
“What are you, the postal inspector?  Some of my clients have been getting the name wrong since I started here.  Heck, it goes back to elementary school.  People have always wanted to call me Bill Walker.  I can’t understand how it’s such a hard name to get right, but it was for them, and for some of them it still is.  And for you, I’m still trying to figure out why you’re here.”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”  He could tell that Will grew real tired of the cop games, so he just came out with it.  “Look, Will, Rob’s a friend of mine.  He helped me out through some stuff a few years back.  And I owe him a great deal.  Now I won’t pretend that he’s perfect.  And I don’t know what he did to get you so upset, but I’m also not dumb enough to believe that little exchange was about baseball this morning.  I won’t tell you you’re wrong, and I won’t tell you he’s right.  But I will tell you this.  That man’s a friend of mine, and I’d stand by him until Judgment Day if I had to.”  Will looked back at the officer, and he was sure that the banker started understanding what was coming off without being said.  “Don’t start nothing with my buddy, you hear?” 
“You married, officer?”
“I was.”
“Did she die or leave?” Will asked in an astonishingly matter-of-fact tone.
“She left.”
“You mind if I ask why?” Will’s stark appeals continuing.
“Yes.  I do.  But she left because she couldn’t handle being with me anymore.”
“And how you feel without your wife, Officer Rodriguez?”
“I hate she’s gone,” and that was definitely a true statement.  “But I also hated that look she gave me when I just knew she was unhappy.  And I hated hearing her cry at night, trying to muffle it so I wouldn’t know just how miserable my uselessness was making her.  Does that answer your question?”
Getting a bit more than he’d wanted, and showing obvious defeat, “I guess it does.  Look, I don’t mean to cause problems, officer, but your buddy has been.  And he needs to stay out of where he isn’t wanted.  And I think he knows that.” 
“Let’s hope he does, Mr. Baker.”  Telling this conversation was nearing an abrupt end, Officer Rodriguez started to stand and leave.  “But I will tell you a couple things.  First, I can’t really tell anybody about our conversation or anything in here, since I’m very well not even supposed to be here, so you’re safe there.  Next, I have no problem planting evidence for justice to reach the right conclusion, so you’ll know my feelings if anything happens to Robby.  Lastly, Mr. Baker, I may just be one of the few people in this town who agrees with you about Ames.  That guy killed your sister and got off lucky when he should’ve been put away for at least ten years.  Don’t go burning all your bridges in this town.  Some people are better to you than you might think.”  Once more taking that upper hand that Will’s impertinence had given him, Officer Rodriguez just added a warning and hearty “Good day” before leaving the bank. 
He walked out the front doors and saw Horizon Groceries, and almost forgot about the utter need for that important appointment he had to make.  Pulling out his private phone, Officer Rodriguez sent another message to this kid he knew.  When can u meet?  There was something pitiful in his reliance on an immobile teenager.  One of the problems with being a cop, especially in an uptight community like Horizon, is you have to rely on unorthodox dealers when they come along.  Either way, it would probably have to wait.  It didn’t seem likely that this kid would even be up for a while. 
The rest of the morning’s work was less inspired.  He wanted to work on the Laurence disappearance, but Officer Rodriguez just drove around Horizon, even a ways out of town at times, checking on certain landmarks as a matter of habit.  He drove out to the bridge over County Line River.  He drove out to Horizon Baptist and then some of the stores, making sure everything was in order.  He even drove out by Miss Emma’s, just to see.  After a couple hours of this, without a single callout or reply from dispatch on that earlier request, he finally decided to take a short break.  “Dispatch, I’ve got a Signal 95 out by the High School.” 
“Go ahead, Rodriguez, take a lunch break.”
            “Thanks, dispatch.  Let me know if you need me.” 
Officer Rodriguez had already bought his lunch, knowing good and well that they weren’t gonna need him.  And this particular Signal 95 found him sitting out by the Horizon football stadium, at the same spot where Nikki Baker was struck and later died.  It had been a long time since Officer Rodriguez thought of that night, even with a constantly decorated cross on the curb. 
He thought back to that night, the late autumn sky already solidly dark, and that October air uniquely cold.  Horizon had just had a big game against one of those cross-county rivals, the Broncos, and most everybody was hanging around on-field to celebrate, or just around the stands, but a few of the young girls were walking back across to the other parking lot.  A young Nikki Baker had stopped to call back to one of her other friends, just long enough to get separated from her crowd walking on.  When she ran to catch up to them, it was right as a white Silverado jumped over the crosswalk hitting her with unyielding force. 
            Officer Rodriquez had been chatting it up with one of the guys directing traffic, just talking about the game and the solid season the boys had been having, when he heard a host of screams and shouts from up at the crosswalk on Horizon St.  The two men ran up to see, hoping for a fight.  It was much worse than that when they arrived.  Rodriguez had the other man call for an EMT while he held the girls hands, trying to keep her awake and breathing.  “Breathe, girl, stay with me.  What’s your name, girl?  What’s your name?”
“Her name’s Nikki.” 
“What’s your name, Nikki?”
She couldn’t answer, even being given the answer.  There was nothing new about the look in her eyes as he’d seen it before, except never before all in one face.  He could see the shock and fear in her eyes, just as clearly as the tired expression coming from her overtaxed face and the uncertain movements of her mouth trying to give up those important last words.  In his arms, and on his knees, Nikki Baker closed her eyes and stopped breathing right there.  His makeshift partner went to grab the drunk fool out of his truck, now lodged in a light-pole on the side of the road.  Officer Rodriguez traded glances from the girl to the truck, wondering what idiot could have done this, wincing to see Ames Laurence step out with some heavy assistance.  How that fool kid went on to marry the beauty queen Melissa was beyond him or anyone else.
There was no telling how long he’d been like this when a common noise brought the officer back to reality.  It was his phone going off, though, and not the police radio.  Behind Horizon Grocery in 15.  It was about time.  The pain in his legs had slowly come back throughout the day, keeping Joe confined to his car and out of the heat since the bank.  And thinking back to his days before the gunshots just made it worse, how no one remembered his actions even then, and how much less important he was now.  That power play with a banker earlier was just an old man’s attempts at feeling strong again, even though none of it mattered.  He wasn’t going to plant any evidence.  And what could he plant, and what crime did he have to blame the man for?  It was all talk, and it was all pain building up in his joints, and it was all about to go away again. 
The cop drove away, trying to forget her eyes, her ice-blue eyes looking back from beneath.  Come to think of it, she had Will’s eyes.  Maybe that’s what had made him uneasy instead of any “cop instinct.”  It was hard to tell these days, until Joe could get himself clear again. 
He pulled up behind the store.  Nobody would question a cop meeting up with someone behind a store like this.  They’d probably just think he was getting tips on gang activity or something stupid like that.  People may ignore Officer Rodriguez, but that also meant that nobody questioned him.  If there was a bright side to anything, that was it.  “What’ve you got?”
“I can only get you three weeks worth, Mr. Rodriguez.  You’ve got one a day here, okay?  I think Mamma V’s starting to figure out what’s going on.  And the pharmacy didn’t want to give me a refill today.  They said I was early and that they weren’t supposed to.  I almost had to cry just to make them give me the pills.”
“That would’ve been a good trick, kid.  How much you think these…what, 21 pills are worth?”
“$150.”
“Price is a bit steep, ain’t it, for such a small crop?”
“That’s all I need.  Please, sir?” 
“Fine, fine, take it.  Does this mean we’re done?”
“We have to be, officer.  I can’t keep doing this to her.  She knows, and I think it’s hurting her going without these pills I keep selling you, so yeah, we’re done.  You’ve gotta find somebody else.”  Jonah shook and stuttered as he talked to the police officer, and Joe could tell he was terrified.  It couldn’t be easy to tell off a cop who you also manage to sell illicit prescription drugs to.  “But…Thank you.” 
“Thank you?  For what?  Buying your gramma’s pills off you?”
“No.  You don’t remember it, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“You saved my parents a few years back.  There was a robbery and you showed up, got them out of there.  You were shot weren’t you?”
“Yeah, I took two.”
“Really?  Thank you.  I’ll never forget you, sir.”
“Alright, whatever, kid.  Here.  Take your money, go do something fun with it.”  He counted out the bills, then counted out the pills, and watched the boy run off to do something with all that money he’d got.  Joe didn’t much care what it was, so long as it wouldn’t get anybody any attention or trouble.  “And don’t spend it all in one place!” which he probably didn’t even hear Joe yell out. 
The effect of the first pill was almost instant, about like hearing Jonah remind him why he was a cop.  It wasn’t that the feeling hit him, so much as it was a feeling that eased off of him.  But as good as he felt in his knees or in his back, he felt that much worse in his chest, just knowing these pills made him a worse cop and a worse person, but he couldn’t take the pain.  He just couldn’t stand the pain anymore.  He sat in the front seat of his unmarked car, still behind the grocery store, and just let the day wash over him, the air leaving his lungs and then back in.  It was a good feeling, mostly.  And it was even a good day.
“Officer Rodriguez, this is dispatch.”
“Go for Rodriguez, dispatch,” he said, probably with more excitement than he should have.  It wasn’t often that he got called in for something by dispatch, and he just knew that maybe they were finally taking the training wheels off.
“Yeah, I’ve got something on that Signal 95 you put in earlier.”
“Go dispatch.”  He was a little disheartened by the revelation, but was glad to get some answers finally on what had been going on.
“Looks like he’s clean.  No record, no priors.  He’s clean.”
“Thank, dispatch.  Let me know if you get anything else.”
And still, Officer Rodriguez had nothing to go on.  He figured that Rob had tried pulling something with that man’s wife, but couldn’t prove it.  He knew that the two men had been fighting that morning at the Minit Save, but couldn’t do anything about it.  And most disturbing, he knew there was something wrong with that banker, but he couldn’t tell what it was.  So naturally, he did what any other cop with spare time would do.  Joe took his car out to the bank and waited on Bill Walker to leave…wait, Will Baker to leave.  If he couldn’t learn anything with the files, Officer Rodriguez would have to do it with his eyes. 
Officer Rodriguez hated stakeouts.  They were boring and uncomfortable, and more often than not a fruitless waste of time.  This one was nothing like that.  No more than thirty or forty minutes after he first parked out there, Will Baker walked out the front door in his suit and looking ready to head home.  It wasn’t quite time to leave work yet, even on banker’s hours, so something was up.  He tried to keep some distance, not wanting to give away that he was following the guy.  That would defeat the purpose, after all.  So he followed at a distance of maybe four or five car lengths, moving at slow in-town traffic speeds.  It was a normal enough drive, going past the intersection at Horizon Baptist.  What did seem odd was when he turned off of Horizon St. down towards the lesser roads, taking the long way to get anywhere, really.  It only made sense when he turned back towards Horizon St. about a half mile down.  He’d gone that way to avoid passing the school and the crosswalk where Nikki died.  He didn’t want to pass that old cross, and old Joe almost felt bad about suspecting him of anything. 
Up ahead, though, Officer Rodriguez saw something distressing, when he noticed Jonah standing on a bridge overlooking the river, and he had this box in his hands.  Officer Rodriguez had to choose between his chase and this kid, knowing he couldn’t well make both work.  He could see Jonah set the box down on the bridge, and it looked like he was trying to climb up on top of it.  No matter how much he wanted to follow the banker, Joe knew he had to make sure this kid lived through the day. 
But the decision became more difficult really quick.  As Rodriguez got ready to turn on his mounted lights, Will pulled over and jumped out of his car, running up to Jonah himself.  So now Joe could neither follow Will nor help Jonah, and he just kept driving.  He went moving on down the road, back towards the Minit Save and heart of town.  It just seemed like this day was meant to go against Office Rodriguez, and he couldn’t win.  There was no file, and he couldn’t follow the suspect.  Instead, he thought he might just try to keep Rob from doing something stupid.  If you can’t figure out what’s going on, you might as well try to keep it from happening. 
“Hello?”
“Rob, hey, it’s Joe.”
“Joe, hey, how are you?  You still on shift?”
“Yeah, I’m still on.  Hey, Rob, wh…why are you whispering?”
“Whispering?  No, I’m not.  It’s my throat, my throat hurts.”
“You’re a bad liar, Rob, what’s going on?”
“I’m trying to keep quiet, yeah, that’s all.” 
“But why?  Why are you trying to keep quiet?  You live alone on a farm, Rob.”  It was another one of those moments when those cop instincts stepped it up and told Joe what he needed to know.  “Who’s there with you?”
“Just some girl.  She needed a place to stay, she’s been having a real tough time and needed a friend.”  He heard a door close in the background, and with it, Rob’s voice got louder.  “I’m not doing anything wrong, I promise you.”
“God, Rob.  It’s Mrs. Baker, isn’t it?  You’re doing the banker’s wife.”
“No, no.  It’s…yeah, you’re right, it’s her.  But she doesn’t love him, Joe.  And we go back.  We’ve got a history.” 
“Just tell me you two ain’t got a future, Rob.  That guy’s dangerous, Rob, and that girl’s not any better.  Something’s gonna happen to you, boy, and I’m not gonna be able to help you.” 
“I know what I’m doing, okay?  Look, I’m gonna end it with her, but not yet.  I can’t, not now.”
All this time, Joe had kept driving and found Will’s house.  That gorgeous car was out in the driveway, but it was the only one.  He knew where her car was, and he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  “You send that girl home right now, you hear me, Rob?  You send that girl home to her husband right now, he’s here waiting on her.”
“You mean to tell me he’s home right now?”  The way Rob had said it, Joe knew what he’d done. 
“You don’t do it, Rob, I said send her home.  Don’t you dare go over there with her.” 
“I’ll call you later, Joe.  Have a good evening.”
In perfect futility, Joe tried to offer one last warning, but the phone had already died.  In all the frustration in him, Joe threw the phone and saw the clock.  “It is time for my shift to end.  I’m done with this job, I swear I am!”  The in-car thermometer read 101˚, and Joe felt each degree of that heat building up behind his head.  Between people inciting riots and going off into the mouth of their own lion, all freely chosen, there was nothing a good cop could do to protect the people around him.  A bad cop like Joe felt even more powerless.  It was just impossible.  He drove on back out of town, past the houses and occasional shops, back over the highway that divided Horizon from the country, and back towards the station.  It wasn’t made better when he saw Rob’s truck blow past, knowing good and well where he was going and who he was aimed to see.  It was impossible to protect these people when everything they do aims for destruction.  The cop himself even drove towards destruction, what with the buying pills from middle schoolers and all.  And if he couldn’t protect himself, how could he protect anyone else?
“Officer Rodriguez, this is dispatch.  Come in, Rodriguez.”
“Yes, what do you want?”  The long pause alerted Joe to his mistake. 
“Officer, we have a reported Signal 67 out at 3225 Horizon St., reported to be an older African-American woman on the sidewalk.  Her grandson called it in, says she fell over in the heat.  EMTs are 10-6 and might be a few minutes.  They’re not reporting any immediate health risks, but her and her grandson are both shaken up.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m 10-76.  Let me know if anything changes, dispatch.”
And of course, it would go on just a little longer.  He was in sight of the station, and now he was going right back where he came from.  Apparently one of Will’s neighbors had fallen out in the street and needed some assistance, and of course Joe was the only guy they could think of to bother with it.  Everybody else was busy being important.  So he headed on back.  This day was going to be one to forget for Officer Rodriguez, and it couldn’t be over soon enough. 
And if it weren’t enough that dispatch had called him back out, now Rob was ringing up his phone.  “What do you want, Evans?  I do not have time for you right now.”
“Joe!  He’s dead!  Somebody’s…he’s dead, Will’s dead.”
“What did you do?  What did you do, Rob?”
“What?  Me?  No, Joe, no…I…no.” 
“What happened, Robby?” 
“I just…the blood, man, he’s dead.”
“Okay, look.  Get home, wake that girl up, and get her over there.  She needs to be there as soon as we show up if possible.” 
“Right, yeah, right.  What else?”
“You’re gonna be there with her, and we’re gonna talk about this when I see you there.”
“You mean I have to go back?”  
“Yes.  You’re going back there with Mrs. Baker, and you’re gonna tell me what you did.  I’ve gotta go call this in.  Now just do it!”
About that time, as if the world were acting in unison now for the sake of Joe Rodriguez:  
“Officer Rodriguez, this is dispatch.  Are you still enroute to the Signal 67 out at 3225 Horizon?”
“Yes, dispatch I’m headed that way, but…”
“Cancel that last call, we’ve got a Code 2 situation about a Code 28 with a possible Signal 27 reported by the old lady in question.  She claims to have seen a young man running out of the house with blood on his hands.  All units are responding.”
            “Yeah, I know, dispatch, I know.  I was just about to call it in, myself.”  Realizing that every word he said further condemned his friend, Joe had to do it.  “I think…I think Will Baker is dead.”  

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So we're getting into the meat of the story, here, and I actually posted it (almost) on time!  In dealing with a police officer, I wanted to make his language somewhat authentic.  Now I know most of us don't have memorized the official codes and signals and "10-4"s, so if you have trouble with the codes and police talk I used, there's this great website called www.scangwinnett.com with a list of actual terms and signals used by police.  I used it as a reference to keep things sounding authentic, though I tried to provide good context to clear it up.  If you need a hand, feel free to check them out and see if it helps.  And again, I encourage everyone to let me know what they think either on here or on Facebook.  I'm also on Twitter.  And speaking of Facebook, don't forget to use your ultra-special, limited time engagement, :42: Facebook chat icons.  And when you're friends ask what it means, just tell them it means 42Cobras Publishing.  Thanks to all of my avid readers out there, and I look forward to hearing your comments, theories, and suggestions.  Until next week, enjoy!