Wall of Silence

By

Gabrielle Goldsby

(AKA GabGold)

Premonition. That's what they call it right? I, like everyone I know, have thought I've had premonitions before, but they were nothing like this. It was an almost tangible weight pressing down on my chest, creating a thickness that couldn't be cleared away with a cough or a swallow. It was jumping from a deep sleep to complete wakefulness for absolutely no reason. It was the worst kind of dread imaginable.

I only had time to blink twice. Isn't it funny the things you remember? I lay in my bed inexplicably wide-awake and waiting for something. I remember blinking once, then again, before the braying of my phone almost sent me into cardiac arrest. I leaned over and felt around on the floor. I almost regretfully found the phone under the smoky pants and shirt that I had worn at the club. I glanced at my clock; four o'clock in the morning was rarely a good time to receive a phone call. After taking a deep breath, I answered the phone.

"Hello?"

I sat up in bed as I heard the quiet whimpering on the other end of the phone. "Hello?" I waited for a moment but received no answer. "Who is this damn it?"

"Foster? Foster...."

"What!" I sat straight up in bed my heart pounding. "Who is this? Mon? Monica is that you?"

"Foster, Joe's...." she never finished her sentence.

"Monica, what the hell's wrong? Please tell me," I begged. But deep down I already knew. I knew with a certainty that I could never hope to explain, that my partner was gone. I sat there with the phone against my ear, staring up at the ceiling, as my thoughts threatened to close in on me.

I tried to talk but nothing came. I sat that way for a minute more before croaking out. "Hang on, Mon, I'll be right there."

Dully, I placed the phone on its cradle and sat perfectly still. Somehow I had always imagined that I would be the one calling her, not the other way around.

Tears were streaming down my face as I pulled on the cigarette smoke incrusted clothes. I grabbed my gun and my badge, more as a habit than anything else, and numbly walked out the door.

One of the benefits of living downtown was that I didn't need to wait very long for a cab. I sank into the back seat and pressed against the floor with my right foot trying to make the idiot drive faster. The ache in my fingers alerted me to the fact that I was digging my fingers into the patent leather seats.

Maybe she's just panicking, I thought. Smitty just ran into an old friend and got to telling one of his stories and got held up is all. I'll get there and he'll be getting on Monica's case for calling me in the first place.

My mind had been telling me that something was wrong for a few days now. I couldn't put my finger on it though. Smitty seemed to be his normal, happy go lucky self but he seemed to be worrying about something. I didn't ask him what the problem was and now I wish I had. I just figured he and Monica were having marital problems. As close as Smitty and I were, we weren't that close. He didn't tell me about his marriage and I didn't tell him about the countless women or lack there of that I had bedded. It was sort of an unspoken rule that we had that worked just fine for me.

I didn't bother knocking when I reached Smitty and Monica's house. I turned the knob slowly and fought down the irrational urge to grab my gun. I felt apprehension burn down my esophagus like molten lava but I forced myself into the brightly lit room.

Monica held a crumpled tissue up to her nose as she stared fixedly at a mug sitting on the coffee table. Her father was pacing back and forth with a cell phone to his ear. The skin on his face looked blotchy, as if someone had attempted to drain all the color from him, but hadn't done a very good job. His lips were tight, as if he was yelling at someone though his voice was actually so low that I could only hear the tail end of his conversation. "I don't give a damn what you have to do. Keep this out of the paper, do you understand? This is my career we're talking about!" Chief James snapped the cell phone closed and tossed it to one of three "plain clothes" police officers that were standing around looking like they would rather be anywhere other than where they were.

Monica buried her face in his shirt, "Daddy, what are we going to do? You don't think he...."

"Shhh, shhh sweetheart we can't guess that right now." Chief James' cold eyes looked up at that moment and I couldn't help but wonder if he was sad or just angry. He looked at the three cops, who it seemed had not heard me come in either, and then back at me. A small sad smile replaced the scowl and I flashed my badge to anyone who cared to look and approached Monica. She immediately let go of her father and jumped into my arms. I avoided Chief James' eyes by closing mine. Now was not the time to start an argument with the man, but how could he be so worried about his career when his daughter was obviously in so much pain.

"Oh my god, Foster, I can't believe this is happening," she sobbed.

I fought down the urge to yell at someone, to make them tell me what the hell was happening, and just held my partner's wife.

I looked around at the police officers and then at Monica's father who was holding his head in his hands.

Suddenly Monica went limp in my arms. "Shit. Can one of you help me get her over to the couch, please?"

We settled Monica on the couch finally and I turned to speak to her father, Police Chief Herbert James.

"Chief James, can you please tell me what happened?"

I would like to say that my voice was calm but it wasn't. Until I arrived in Smitty's home, I had held on to the hope that it was a mistake. That Monica had called me because he had simply failed to come home on time or something.

Chief James, looking every bit of his fifty-five years, sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose shakily. "I got a phone call about an hour and a half ago. Seems Joseph drove his car off a cliff."

"What are you saying? He did not commit suicide!" I looked around for affirmation but no one would meet my eyes.

"I don't know why he did it but he did commit suicide. He left a note. Monica found it on the kitchen table," the Chief said while rubbing roughly at his eyes.

"No, you don't understand goddamn it. Smitty had no reason to kill himself, none whatsoever." I don't know who I was trying to convince, but I was certain that my partner would have told me if things were that bad.

"Were there any other cars in the vicinity?" I asked desperately.

"No, Detective, there wasn't anyone else on the road."

One of the uniforms wasn't looking too happy about my questioning the Chief as I was, but at that moment I didn't give a shit who or what he was, I just wanted answers.

I was about to ask another question when I noticed that Monica was stirring so I stifled the urge to grill everyone in the place and focused in on her.

I didn't leave Monica's house until noon the following day. I didn't have much more information than I'd walked in the door with. All I knew for certain was that my partner was dead from an apparent suicide.

The note that Smitty left was less than ten words: "I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore."

That's all, nothing else to explain why. As I trudged up to my apartment, I felt inexplicably angry. How could he just take his life like that? Leave the woman that he loved. Leave me, his partner, his friends. I took a hot shower, trying in vain to drown out the morbid thought that threatened to leave me boneless. I dressed slowly and dragged myself into the office. It was the second hardest thing I ever had to do.

The Captain was waiting when I walked in the door. "Everett, can I see you in my office please?"

Her subdued tone of voice was enough to tell me that she knew. I walked towards her office like a death row inmate. I wondered what had gotten so bad in Smitty's life that he felt the need to check out. I had to wonder if I had something to do with it. I wondered if he'd regretted the decision to help me and feared that I was going to turn myself in.

"Everett, I want to let you know how sorry we all are about Smitty," she said somberly.

I looked up into her cold blue eyes and I wanted to see true sorrow but instead I saw nothing, not even pity. The words flowed from her mouth as if she rehearsed the speech daily, but there was nothing in her eyes that made them ring true. I had seen eyes the same shade of blue before, but I couldn't remember where. But those eyes were different. Warm, inviting somehow. Either this woman was great at hiding her feelings or she was one cold-hearted bitch.

"...you understand that it's necessary to put you on a desk job for a few weeks."

"Wait, what?" I shook my head confused. "I must have missed something because I thought I heard you say you were putting me on a desk?"

"You did. It's standard procedure."

"Wait a minute here, Captain, I'm a Detective. You're demoting me?"

"No, I'm putting you on a desk until we can find you a suitable new partner... and so that you can grieve for Smitty."

"A suitable...?"Anger threatened to send me over the edge but I clenched my jaw and was able to contain myself. "What do you mean a suitable new partner? You mean one of those stiff-ass college grads you got walking around here that throw out the fucking red carpet every time you sashay through the fucking door? No thank you, I'll work alone."

"I wasn't asking you if you wanted a partner, I'm telling you. You can't work alone, Everett. Hell, look how much trouble you get in even with a partner?"

That statement hit hard. She was right. If Smitty hadn't helped me when he did I would be in jail right now... and maybe Smitty would be alive. My gut clenched as I bit my lip. I suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to cry. I got to my feet instead.

"I know how you feel, Everett."

I looked down at the cold woman in front of me. "How could you know, Captain? Have you ever lost a partner? Have you ever even had one?"

The thinning of her lips told me that I had gone too far. Hell what could she do? Fire me? Shit, do I even want this job anymore?

"Report to records, Everett, they're expecting you," she said grimly.

I walked out of her office without another word. I ignored the urge to slam the door and instead closed it quietly behind me. My hand still on the doorknob, I leaned back, eyes closed, trying to calm myself.

"Look at this shit, man. Did this guy ever clean up?"

I opened my eyes to see one of two young suits sitting at Smitty's desk. The other had his flabby ass leaned on my desk with his arms crossed as he shook his head. Flabby Ass looked like he had cut his blond hair by running it through a blender on dice cycle. The severe haircut did nothing to disguise the fact that his forehead was too large and his skin could only be described as an even pink color. Normally I would have felt some kinship as I suffer from fair skin myself. His partner wore his brown hair in a slicked back ponytail that looked like it would start to fry if you added heat. I sneered as I noticed that glint of clear nail polish on his nails. Both wore suits that had to be new and way too expensive for a cop's salary.

"I know, well this one isn't much better man. I wonder how these people even made it to these positions."

"Man you know how this one was a dyke from what I heard so she probably fucked anyone that asked and this loser here went for the big fish and was fucking the Chief's daughter."

I don't know if I yelled, screamed, or what but I was on ponytail in minutes. I landed at least six blows on and about his head before the other one finally lifted me off him. I elbowed flabby ass in the stomach causing him to release me just as ponytail seemed to come to his senses and stood. I kicked him in the shin causing him to howl in excruciating pain. I've always been one to keep doing what works so I kicked him hard in the shin again and grinned happily when the wimp screamed. I don't believe in fighting fair, never have. I do what I need to do to win.

Detective Pierce finally got me off the two idiots by tackling me to the floor. "Everett, you got ‘em... damn woman!"

I was breathing hard and so damn angry that I was tempted to wail on Pierce as well, but I decided not to as he was a good guy and had always treated me with a lot of respect.

"Everett." I froze as the Captain's angry voice screamed out my name.

"Get your ass in here right now." Pierce helped me up and as I walked towards her office, I gave my two punching bags a glower.

"Crazy bitch!"

I whipped around and smiled at both of them. "I don't know who said that but I promise I'm not finished with either of you and next time there won't be anyone to pull me off you. Stay-- the fuck--away-- from Smitty's shit!"

I watched them both pale and then the chronically pink/flabby assed one seemed to get some balls from somewhere because he suddenly got a bright idea.

"I'm going to press charges against your crazy ass. How's assault and battery going to strike you? We got a whole division that saw you attack me without provocation." The look on his face was so triumphant that I wanted... no needed to fuck with this guy.

"Hmm, is that right?" I poked my head into the office and smiled beatifically at the Captain. "Be right there Capt., just need to tell someone something." I closed the door against her enraged yell before turning back to the self-satisfied flabby-assed Detective.

"Um... anybody in here see me attack this guy without provocation?" I asked not bothering to break eye contact with the flabby-assed fuck.

"Nope didn't see shit, Everett."

"Me neither. Did you, Kim?"

"Nope, I didn't see shit!"

"Pierce, you?"

"Afraid not."

My grin widened as the guy looked around incredulously as everyone who had been witness to me flying off the handle, now denied any knowledge. My smile started to fade as I remembered the last time I had lost my temper. That too had been covered up with barely any effort.

"Well, the Captain saw the whole thing." Flabby ass was getting flustered. I watched as his face tightened and flushed even darker in anger and embarrassment.

"Uh no, I'm afraid she came out after I had already pulled Everett off you. She may have heard you screaming like a bitch, but that's about it I'm afraid," Pierce supplied.

I grinned widely even though I was growing weary of this game. "You know, you two have a lot of things to learn. But the first thing you better commit to memory is, what happens among us, stays among us. You can press charges if you want to, but you won't get any help here. But by all means feel free to press those charges. I just hope you never need back up."

"Hey, is that a threat?" Ponytail asked angrily.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Your partner here slap you upside the head with his dick stick too many times? That was no threat, that was a promise." With that, I walked into the Captain's office to receive what I hoped would be no more then a stern lecture.

I sat down calmly in the chair as she furiously scribbled something on a sheet of paper.

"I'm putting you on a medical leave of absence."

"What? What the hell for? I don't need a leave...."

"Now you listen up, Everett, you're losing it! You've always been more than a little off, but you've been on some type of self destructive tear and I'm not about to let you bring this department down with you."

"I don't want...."

"I didn't ask you what you wanted!" She pushed a piece of paper in front of me. "Don't come back without a waiver from the psychologist, Everett."

I grabbed the paper and shoved it into my back pocket. And without so much as a "by your leave", I left the Captain's office.

"Everett!"

I turned around and focused my eyes out the window. So she wouldn't see the daggers of hate I would be unable to keep myself from shooting at her.

"Leave your gun."

I looked down at her stunned. "You want my gun?"

"You'll get it back after...."

I ripped my gun out of the nylon holster, emptied the clip and sat both on her desk with a thump.

"I suppose you want my badge too right?" I slammed that down too and stalked towards the door that separated her from the real police officers.

"I mean it this time, Everett!" I heard her shout behind me.

I raised my hand and growled "whatever." As I exited the building, I checked my watch. 2:06, good. Perfect time to have a cocktail...or ten.

* * *

I slid off my barstool and drunkenly waved to Stacy or at least who I thought was Stacy. I avoided making eye contact with Riley as I approached the exit. She hadn't been there when I came in earlier, as Stacy didn't start accepting covers until the evening. I felt ashamed that I was sitting here silently getting plastered, but that shame was not enough to get me to stop drinking. Several times Stacy tried to cut me off, but I kept reminding her that I was a fucking adult and that I wasn't driving. She was well within her rights to refuse me service but she had no doubt heard about Smitty on that damned police scanner of hers and was probably trying to cut me some slack.

I felt eyes on my back the whole night but I refused to look back at Riley. I hoped she didn't think that a shared kiss and a few words made us best buds cause it didn't. I don't want any friends. Hell, I didn't even want any acquaintances especially ones that....

I stopped because I couldn't think of any reason not to want Riley as my friend. She seemed to be a sensitive and caring individual. I wasn't used to dealing with people who gave a shit about others just because. It was probably in her best interest if she stayed away from me.

I passed by the silent bouncer avoiding eye contact and eased out the door. Riley didn't utter a word. I was disappointed, maybe I had been wrong about her. Maybe she wasn't as caring as I thought. Not that I would have told her anything, you understand. I just thought she might ask what's wrong or something, you know?

The chilly air hit my face causing me to gasp and become annoyingly sober. I tucked my hands in my pockets and let out a soft curse. As usual I was not wearing a coat, and as usual I would be freezing my ass off. I had just made the decision to jog the block or two home when I was grabbed from behind and tossed up against a wall, then pushed into a small alley separating two buildings.

I didn't have time to struggle let alone scream before I was doubled over from two hard blows to my ribs that sent me to all fours. The act of breathing caused pain to rip through my body. I gingerly used my left hand to reach for my gun hoping against hope that the lack of lighting would provide me with enough cover to pull my weapon before my attackers could see what I was doing. With stunning clarity I remembered handing my weapon over to the Captain with nary a whimper. I always knew she would be the death of me.

"Listen up, bitch, we got a message for you. Keep your big fucking mouth shut. You got that?" My attacker growled before he landed another blow to my stomach that lifted me up off the ground and left me curled in a fetal position on my side.

"Man, she got it let's go."

"Shut up damn it, I know what I'm doing."

This was the first clue I had that there were two attackers not just one. It would be harder to get away.

"Let me get a look at you. They said you were a tough one. Shit you don't look so tough to me. You see that, man? That's what you do to dogs when they get out of hand. You kick those fuckers in the stomach and they get the point. "

When I'd felt the first blow to my stomach it had instantly occurred to me that the two suits that I had jumped on were getting their revenge. They would rough me up a bit, but leave me alive and regretting the embarrassment I had caused them. But the voices of these two were all wrong. They were young, streetwise and frighteningly unfamiliar.

I was yanked up and pushed back against the wall. I waited for the blows to rain down on me again. But they never came.

The sounds of punches being landed rent the air as someone silently and efficiently dispatched my attackers. I had time to gasp before a particularly brutal sounding punch sent one of them flying past me and into the darkened alley. I wanted to get the hell out of there, but the best I could do was slide down the nasty ass wall and wait with my forehead in my hand for either salvation...or another ass kicking.

I listened with relief to the staccato of running footsteps. I tried to speak but I could only cough a few times

"Foster?"

I recognized that muffled voice instantly.

"Riley...that you?" I wheezed.

"Yeah, come on let's get out of here."

She helped me to stand and I began to take a deep breath before I thought better of it.

"Who were they?" she asked.

"No idea," I growled and then felt bad because I was growling at the person responsible for saving me. "Probably muggers."

"Probably," her voice sounded more clipped than usual. I tried to pinpoint her mood but the pain wasn't allowing me to concentrate much so I let it go. I allowed her to half drag/half carry me towards the club.

"Shit, Riley, I don't want to go in there looking like this. Can you just help me to my apartment?"

"Yeah, okay," she carefully turned us back in the direction that we had come from.

"Shit!" I yelled and frantically ran my hands over my pants pockets.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know where my keys are. They were in my hand when I left the club but now I don't know where they are."

"They may have fallen in the struggle."

"Damn it." I sniffed as shockingly I felt tears well up in my eyes. I was suspended from my job, Smitty was dead and I hurt like...well like someone had just kicked the shit out of me.

"It's okay." Riley wrapped strong arms around me and I will admit to allowing her to hold me. Like a small child, I buried my nose in her shirt and inhaled her fresh clean scent. No perfume, no special scented soaps, just cleanness that seemed to emanate from her very pores. And beneath all that, the faintest scent of chocolate or maybe it was just the memory of happier times.

"We'll never be able to find those damn keys without a flashlight."

"I have...I can take you to my place." I looked up when she said that because I could hear the embarrassment in her voice. "It isn't much, but it's quiet and maybe you can get some sleep."

"That sounds wonderful." And in all honesty it really did.

"My car is over here." I only nodded as once again she led me back towards the club. I wondered briefly how she had been there to save my ass.

"What about Stacy? Don't you need to tell her what..."

" I'll call her after we get to my place." I must have passed out after that because the next thing I knew, I was waking up inside of a moving vehicle.

"Almost there," she said quietly.

How did she know that I was awake? I'm sure I hadn't made a sound. It occurred to me that I had allowed a woman that I didn't know to bring me to some undisclosed destination in the middle of the night. No one knew where I was. I started to feel some apprehension just as the car eased to a halt. Before I could voice any question she spoke in the dark stillness.

"Can you walk?"

I eased myself into an upright position. "I think so."

"Wait there, I'll come around."

Riley exited the vehicle slamming her door with a sturdy thunk. I'd always enjoyed the smell and sound of older vehicles. Don't ask me why, but some people liked the smell of gasoline or rubbing alcohol; I liked old vehicles. But right now, apprehension curled in my stomach like a cobra waiting to strike. My ribs ached and I had a splitting headache. I would not be able to fight if I had to. I peered dazedly through the window. A dark building loomed in front of me with no apparent lights on inside. I didn't see any other vehicles in the area, which further increased my anxiety.

My door opened with a loud creak that served to amplify my anxiety. The dome light came on with a flicker that barely illuminated the cab. My heart beat an extra thrum of relief as I looked into Riley's honest blue eyes. This woman was trying to help me, someone she barely knew, for no reason other than that she was a nice person. I could see no animosity or dishonesty in her face. And frankly right now I had no choice. I needed to trust her. I was too tired and hurt to do anything else.

"Let me help you." She gently took my arm and I eased from the vehicle, wincing as my ribs protested the movement." Okay?" she asked.

I looked up but I could barely see her. The pain was starting to make it hard for me to concentrate.

"Yeah," I wheezed out.

I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and vaguely wondered whether I should be alarmed at the amount of broken glass that I seemed to be treading on. Where the hell was she taking me? I had no idea how long I was out in the car so I wasn't even sure if we were still within the city limits.

"Sorry about the glass I didn't bother to clean up out here."

"Riley, where are we?"

"This is where I live," she said shortly.

"But what is this place?"

"An old movie theater."

"An old movie theater," I repeated as if it was the most common place in the world for someone to live.

Although I was unsure of my footing, Riley was obviously used to trekking in the darkness. She moved with assurance for a few more steps and then stopped. I heard her stick a key in a lock and open a door. She flipped a switch and then stepped into the building holding the heavy door open for me. The light from inside beckoned me. I was not in any shape to try to argue, so I simply nodded and walked in, the theme from ‘Phantom of the Opera' playing eerily in my head.

"This way," she said quietly as she walked down a hall, flipping lights as she went. At the end of the hall she opened another door and waited patiently for me to reach her. I was holding my side and wondering if I was the stupidest moron on Earth to let her bring me here. I felt sweat bead up and roll down my spine from the effort it had taken me to walk this far. Nobody even knew where I was. Hell she could be a serial killer for all I know. Who the fuck lives in a movie theater anyway?

"Why do you live in a movie theater?" I asked. For some reason I was trying to avoid walking through the door that she was patiently holding open.

"Because I have no money and it's free."

"Oh." The statement had been made with out any self-pity or embarrassment.

Okay Everett, you're going to have to trust her. I mentally gave myself a shove and with a final look at her, I walked through the door.

Though dimly lit, I could still see the vestiges of what had probably been a fine movie house in its day. High backed burgundy seats, numbering close to a hundred, littered the floors in varying stages of disrepair. The chairs themselves were a dark oak and even underneath the film of dust, I could tell that it would look beautiful when cleaned up.

"I never knew this place existed."

I walked forward into the theater and stood at the front of the first row of seats. The carpet was a molten burgundy. Not to my taste, but I could see that it was probably very expensive.

"Beautiful isn't it?" I jumped. I hadn't heard Riley approach.

"Yes, it's very beautiful."

"Restoration starts as soon as the permits are in."

The dreamy quality of her voice caused me to look up at her quickly. She was smiling. Something, as I said before, she didn't seem to do often. I used that moment to study her face. Though her features were prominent, they weren't at all hard. I wondered why I had thought she looked mean or unapproachable when I first met her. Hell now she looked... well young, innocent, even naive.

Riley looked into my eyes at that moment and then turned away embarrassed.

"You're tired. This way."

She didn't wait for me to respond before she started walking to the opposite end of the theater. Instead of walking down another narrow hall, she turned and faced the stage. I watched in amazement as she slid a door back and reached in. She appeared to feel around for a minute before, with a click, she flipped an unseen light switch.

"Careful, the stairs are narrow."

I followed behind her once again wondering why the hell I was allowing some woman I barely even knew to drag me into an abandon building in God knows where.

She hit another switch and I was shocked at what I saw. I was expecting to see a dive; a place that was suitable to crash in when one was without better living arrangements.

"Holy shit," I breathed. This was no dive. Someone had put a lot of time into making this into a home.

The apartment, though not huge by any means, was actually bigger than my own. It had a nautical feel to it. In one corner was a raised platform that was used for the sleeping area. It had a double bed, a nightstand and a cart that held a small TV and VCR. The hardwood floors were painted a dark blue, as were the walls and shelving. Only the ceiling was white. Though there were no windows in the place, there were portholes from a ship on both sides of the room. A miniature kitchen area complete with a sink, microwave and a two-burner stove were to the right. Two doors were to my left one of which I hoped led to the restroom.

"Do you like it?"

Once again her voice so close to my ear startled me, my hand going to my forgotten ribs as they started to throb in protest.

"This is great, Riley." I caught the look of pride on her face.

"Did you do all this?" I asked her politely though I was certain that she had not.

"Yeah." She looked away embarrassed as I stared at her in awe.

"Wow, this place is really some..." in my exuberance at telling her what a great job she had done I completely forgot about my bruised ribs and raised my hand to touch her shoulder. Pain shot up from my side and robbed me of my breath.

"Ahhh shit," I moaned as Riley rushed forward and caught me as I toppled forward.

"I got you."

And she did have me. She lifted me easily and carried me over to the bed and laid me down. I sank back gratefully into the pillow as she sat down on the side of the bed, a worried frown creasing her brow.

"Don't worry, I'm okay I just need to rest."

"I need to look at your side first. Could have broken ribs," she said and once again I wondered at her strangely clipped speech pattern.

"No, not broken, I've had broken ribs before, just bruised, hurts like hell though." I wheezed out. I was fighting the urge to cough. I knew that if I did it would mean a shit load of pain.

"I have painkillers here from when I had my wisdom teeth removed. Be right back"

I nodded and stared up at the ceiling, my hand going to hold my ribs protectively as I fought against the tickle at the back of my throat. I blinked back the tears brought on by pain, fear and exhaustion; this had been the day from hell. I heard Riley opening and closing cabinets as I started to let the healing lull of sleep pull at me.

"They're clouds. You painted clouds on the ceiling." The luminous forms were outlined in a light blue, so delicate that at first glance it looked like a plain white ceiling. The effect was relaxing like sleeping under the open sky. My eyelids fluttered a few times as I fought the urge to just close them and allow myself to sleep.

The bed dipped as Riley sat down next to me. She showed me the bottle and I allowed her to feed me two white pills and obediently drank the cold water that she offered. The annoying itch at the back of my throat abetted for the time being and I nodded my thanks.

"Why did you paint the sky on your ceiling?" I asked her curiously.

"Because for most of my life it's the only pretty thing I saw."

Her answer should have been sad, but it wasn't. It was said with a straightforward honesty that I wasn't used to. I wanted to continue to talk to her but I think the painkillers she had given me were starting to kick in. I would close my eyes for a minute. Just a little rest and then I would ask her more about herself.

A loud crash caused me to open my eyes and lurch up.

"Ahhh goddamn it." In my haste I had forgotten about my ribs. The shooting pain caused a wave of nausea to sweep through me.

"Foster, what happened?"

I looked up to see a naked Riley looking down at me a deeply concerned look etched across her forehead. Okay, so she wasn't exactly naked but she might as well have been. She had on a cropped tank top that left nothing to the imagination and a pair of gray cotton shorts that hugged every curve on her body. If I hadn't been in so much pain I'm sure I would have been salivating. Riley did have a gorgeously sculpted body. She had obviously put a lot of work into it for it to look that way.

"Sat up too fast." I told her as I rested my head on the bed I reached under my shirt to find tape wrapped neatly around my ribs. When had she done that? I looked at her sharply.

"I was afraid you'd hurt yourself more in your sleep. I got you as comfortable as I could."

I nodded and slowly eased upright and looked around the room. Riley had taken my bra, my shoes and socks off and unbuttoned my pants so that I could sleep more comfortably. I flushed as I realized that my habit of not wearing underwear had finally caught up with me. Hopefully she hadn't gotten a glimpse of my "world" while she was trying to "get me comfortable."

I tried to get up from the bed but she put her hand on my shoulder. "You should rest."

"I need to go to the bathroom," I told her evenly.

I wasn't the best patient in the world and I could tell by the look in her eye that she didn't appreciate being snapped at. What was I doing? In the few days that I'd known Riley, I had embarrassed her by kissing her in front of a dozen women, gotten her nearly killed and snapped at her. And I hadn't even bothered to say thank you.

"Ahhh shit, look, Riley, I'm sorry about all of this." I tried to meet her eyes but she had already turned her back to me.

"You didn't ask for this," she said shortly.

"I know but I am sorry for putting you through so much trouble. And I wanted to say thank you for helping me and letting me sleep here and you know taking care of me," I finished lamely.

"Bathroom's over there and...you're welcome."

I nodded and started the painful process of getting to my feet. Every move I made resulted in a dull aching pain that shot from one side of my body to the other. I had barely made it to the edge of the bed and I was already out of breath.

"Will you let me help you?"

I looked up sharply at the question. Noting the concerned look on her face I nodded my assent. I scooted forward and allowed her to crouch down in front of me she gently wrapped her arms around my waist instead of taking my hands as I thought she would and then raised me to my feet slowly. Even with her help though I still had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.

"Okay?"

"Yes," I said breathlessly. Why was I trying to put up fronts? I hurt like hell.

"Can you make it to the bathroom alone?"

I nodded, while thinking, lady I will hold it rather then let you see me sitting on the toilet.

I stepped down off the platform that the bed sat on and gingerly walked toward the second door that she had gestured at. I opened it and once again admired the carpentry. The nautical feel of the living space out front was carried into the bathroom as well and every piece of space was utilized in the tiny bathroom. Riley was probably twice my size so I figured it must be a tight fit in here for her but it was just perfect for me. The wall behind the toilet had another boat porthole, the toilet seat itself was a low slung Kohler model and the hard wood floors extended from the living space. The shower was a simple affair but did have a built-in seat so that you could sit in it and soak.

I washed my hands and exited the bathroom. I nodded to her that everything was okay in response to the raised eyebrow she gave me in lieu of the verbal question. She continued with whatever she was doing in the kitchen neither of us bothering to speak.

I glanced up at the large compass/clock above the archway leading to her kitchen space and nearly gasped at how late it was. It was already four in the afternoon. I had slept through most of the day.

"Damn, I can't believe how late it is. I'm really sorry for imposing on you." I started to look for my bra and shoes so that I could get out of her hair. "Um, do you think I could call a cab?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"What? Why not?" I paused in my search and looked at her suspiciously

"Because you're hurt. You don't need to be alone," she met my eyes as if to dare me to argue.

"Yeah, well, I need to go to work."

"You said in your sleep last night that you got suspended." She disappeared beneath the counter and I used the moment to roll my eyes. No more buttery nipples for me. They seemed to get me in too much trouble.

"Oh uh, yeah I did. Um, what about you, don't you need to get to work?"

"I told Stacy I needed to help a sick friend."

"Oh." I racked my brain for another excuse.

"I have a pet," I blurted. "I need to go home and feed him, he hasn't eaten today."

"We have to find your keys first. Unless your landlord...?"

"My partner has..." I stopped. I was about to tell her that Smitty kept an extra set of my keys, as I was prone to locking myself out. "No, no there is no extra set."

She nodded. "I need to go to the store. I could go by the alley and try to find your keys. Then I can pick up some extra clothes and bring your pet here if you like.

"I couldn't let you do that."

"I want to."

How do you argue with such a simple statement as that? You don't.

"Okay, I'll write my address down then." She nodded and wordlessly handed me paper and pen and after grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from a drawer beneath the bed, she walked into the bathroom apparently to take a shower.

I lay back on the bed and closed my eyes as the sound of the water from the shower began to lull me to sleep. I would love to take a shower right now I thought. As my mind began to wander, I found myself thinking of being in the confined space with Riley, my hands gliding over firm water slicked skin. The sensation in my loins was not an unfamiliar one, I wasn't exactly a virgin but I was never one to become aroused at the drop of a hat. In fact it had been a long time since anyone had garnered a passing spark from me. But there was something about Riley. Something so different that it aroused my curiosity physically and mentally.

The shower abruptly turned off and I immediately and painfully turned on my stomach so that I could lay with my flushed face towards the wall. I was behaving like an adolescent. Perhaps it was because she saved my life, I told myself. Normally I wouldn't be worried about an attraction to a woman. Hell I was a lesbian after all. But Riley was straight and could probably kill me with one look.

I heard her quietly approach the bed and stand over me for a second. I waited to see what she would do. It was by sheer will that I didn't jump when she placed a blanket lightly over my shoulders. I heard her open a dresser drawer next to me and close it again. It sounded like she wrote something down quickly before grabbing her keys and leaving the room. My body relaxed with her gone from the room and in moments I had fallen into a deep dream filled slumber that was anything but restful.

* * *

"Foster, I'm back."

I jerked awake and almost screamed as a large shadow loomed over me in the semi darkness.

"No, don't scream its me." A warm hand gave my arm a gentle squeeze. We stared at each other for a minute and then almost against my will my body relaxed. "Okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay," I said feeling slightly awkward.

She nodded and backed away from me and turned on the light in the kitchen. I blinked a few times until my eyes grew accustomed.

"Sorry it took so long."

"It's okay, I slept the whole time." I grimaced as I got up from the bed.

"Good. You hungry? I went to the store."

"No, not really." I walked over to her and peered into the bags.

"Oh...I picked up your things. They're over there." I frowned as I noticed that she wasn't making eye contact with me. I instantly forgot about her behavior though as I zoomed in on Bud's orange two story condo, complete with the long tube that he loved to storm through, and fresh food for him to munch on.

"Oh wow, hey Bud how are you?" I crowed and then peered through my lashes to see if Riley was laughing at me. But she was busy removing things from the brown paper bags she had brought in and didn't seem to notice my antics at all.

"Thank you for taking care of him."

"Huh? Oh you're welcome," she said distractedly.

"What's wrong?" I finally asked her.

"I couldn't find underwear. I would have bought you some but uh...."

I grinned widely. She is so cute. She must have looked away when she unzipped my jeans cause I haven't had undies in my house since the last time I brought someone home from Secrets two years ago.

I went over to the bag that she had gestured to and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

"Hey you think I could take a shower?

"Sure do you need help?" She looked up suddenly. "I ...I mean with the bandages?"

"Um yeah, I probably will." I turned my back to her and carefully pulled my shirt over my head holding my t-shirt in front of me to cover my breasts. I waited expectantly for her to undo the bandages, after several seconds I turned and looked at her over my left shoulder to find her glaring angrily at my back.

"What?"

"Should have gotten there sooner," she growled.

"I'm just glad you got there period." I replayed the attack in my mind. "Riley why were you there?" Her hand paused, resting warmly against my back.

"I usually watch you until you get to your apartment."

"You do?" I turned around and frowned at the wall for a moment my mind still trying to translate what she'd just said.

"I was late. I couldn't find Chrissie to cover the door."

"But why?"

"You were...so drunk. Stacy said that you normally don't drink that much. We were worried."

"Oh."

"I follow you every night."

I was shocked by her admission. That she had followed me with out my knowledge was like a dash of cold water. I had been so wrapped up with my problems that I had failed to keep my guard up and it had almost cost me dearly. I forgot about my injuries and turned around to face her.

"Son of a fucking bitch," I hissed and would have crumpled to the floor if Riley hadn't scooped me up and deposited me on the bed.

"You have to be more careful," she said quietly but sternly. "They must've hit you a few times before I got there."

"Yeah a few blows and a kick," I growled. Her lips tightened again. "Riley, I'm sorry. I wasn't angry at you."

"I know."

She made a gesture with her finger for me to turn around again. I did, still clutching the t-shirt to my chest in some false since of modesty.

As she fumbled with the bandages for a moment, her knuckles grazed my back. I heard her go into her dresser drawer and removed what I assumed were scissors. It occurred to me briefly that I had turned my back on a woman I didn't really know.

"We'll put new bandages on after you shower."

"Yeah, okay."

I waited patiently while she cut through the bandages. Once the binds were removed, I gingerly replaced my t-shirt and turned to look at her.

"So you were going to follow me home?"

She looked at me like I had her in the sites of a deer rifle. "I'm not...I wasn't going to... Stacy knew about it. She thought you might need help."

I smiled at her wanting to ease her embarrassment. "But I'm a Detective remember? I can take care of myself."

"Yeah I know," she said quietly and got up from the bed and walked into the kitchen to continue cooking.

Well, I just screwed that up. I sounded very ungrateful and it's not as though I wasn't getting the shit kicked out of me when she stepped in. I don't know what I said but she seemed to want to put distance between us. Boy was she going to be difficult. Cute but difficult.

"Look, what I really wanted to say was, thank you."

I watched as her hands quickly diced tomatoes. She didn't bother looking up at me so I cleared my throat. "I mean it, Riley. Thank you for being there for me, okay?" Finally the efficient hands paused and she glanced up for a minute and shrugged but I could see the smile in her eyes so I knew that I was probably back in her good graces. I decided to try to push my luck a bit.

"Hey do you think I could go with you when you go to work tomorrow? I want to check out the alley before it gets too dark."

"Why? I found your keys, they're in your bag."

"Well those guys weren't really trying to mug me. They said something about not hurting me and I should keep my mouth shut. It was odd."

Riley frowned thoughtfully, the knife poised in mid air as she thought about what I said.

"You know, I almost...." Her cell phone interrupted her and I watched amazed as her eyes lit up as she searched around the room franticly for it.

Finally on the third ring she found it under the shirt and jeans that I had removed from my bag.

"Hello."

I eavesdropped as she listened to the other end of the phone for a moment, and then shook with that soundless laughter of hers. She sank down into a chair with a small grin on her face.

"Hey you. How are you...." she grinned at the potted cactus that sat on the floor in front of her. "Uh huh. Anyway what are you doing?"

She did that cute little laugh again and I started to feel annoyed that I didn't know who she was talking to. So far, whoever was on the phone had gotten that cute little laugh not once but twice, damn it.

"No I'm not trying to change the subject." She glanced over at me and I quickly gathered my clothes and made my way towards the bathroom.

"Hang on a sec.... there are clean towels in the cabinet."

"Thanks," I said with false cheeriness.

That was probably her boyfriend from back home. I knew that she was straight. So why shouldn't she be happy to hear from her boyfriend? Not like she had ever shown any of the women in Secrets any interest.

I walked into the bathroom, turned the shower on and stepped under the soothing spray. I had no idea how grimy I felt until I actually started getting clean. I washed and conditioned my hair with some of Riley's shampoo. I idly wondered what her hair looked like when it wasn't in a braid. God don't do it Everett. Do not start thinking about Riley that way. She is off limits. Nothing more than a friend. Hell she will be leaving soon probably going to go and marry that boyfriend of hers who probably looks like Mr. Atlas himself and they will probably have 1.2 children and a white picket fence with a fucking dog named Lassie or Skip or some corny ass shit like that.

I stuck my head under the spray and rinsed the shampoo from my hair. Surprisingly enough, none of that sounded bad, well, all except for the Mr. Atlas part. I froze, my hand on the shower nozzle, as I realized where my thoughts had taken me. I was a self-proclaimed loner. I had never dated the same woman for more than six months. I was by no means a womanizer I just had never been able to feel comfortable enough to share my life with anyone. It was almost an annoyance when a relationship went past the sex stage and progressed to the let's talk about our future together stage. That's usually when I start feeling trapped. I turned off the shower and reached for the towel that I had thrown over the shower stall. So why in the hell would I think that settling down didn't sound so bad? I shook my head. Hell I must be getting old.

Riley was no longer on the phone when I came out of the bathroom but she seemed to have a pleasant glow on her face and I wondered what the conversation had entailed.

"All done?"

"Yeah," I answered somewhat grouchily and then tried to put a smile on my face so she wouldn't notice. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn't bother to look up or seem to take any notice of my brusque response.

"I need a shower before we eat. That alley was filthy."

"Alright." I plastered the fake smile on my face again and again she smiled back brightly as she walked past me and in to the bathroom.

I felt lonely all of a sudden so I went over to Bud's pet condo and smiled. "Looks like Riley already fed you, huh Bud?" Bud shot through his tunnel and hooked a right. I grinned at his explosion of activity and took it to mean he was happy to see me. I looked around the room. Once again, I was awe struck at Riley's carpentry skills. I would have to ask her where she learned how to do all this when she came out of the shower.

Most detectives are inherently nosy people. And I have to admit that my curiosity was rearing its ugly head about Riley. All the information that I had about her was from Stacy. That consisted of the fact that she was a bouncer, originally from Northern California, that she was straight and had just graduated college. Oh yeah and she lived in an abandoned movie theater.

I removed Bud from his condo and placed him on my shoulder. "You shit on me and you're going to be sitting in the oven next to the chicken you got that Mister?"

My alibi firmly on my shoulder I started to explore. I figured I would hear Riley shut off the shower so that I wouldn't get caught snooping but just in case I could always say that Bud got loose.

"Come on, Bud, let's see what we can find."

I pushed open the door and peered into the room. It was extremely small with no windows. There was a large blue mat on the floor with a black padded bench and several round weights stacked neatly in piles. From what Riley, said she didn't have much money so it stood to reason that she didn't have a gym membership.

"Shit she could have had mine if she was staying down here. Not like I ever go, right Bud?"

I was just about to leave the room when the detective in me decided to look behind the door. "Ahhh bingo."

Riley had torn two pictures out of a magazine and taped them to the back of the door. I leaned forward to read the names. One was of Lou Ferrigno and the other was of Cory Everson. Both pictures looked pretty old so my guess was that she had had them for a few years.

I had never heard of Cory but Lou Ferrigno played the Incredible Hulk on TV back in the seventies. My father and I would watch that all the time when I was a kid and he was trying to make up for missing out on some aspect of my life. Needless to say I hadn't missed many of the shows. Remembering Riley's Incredible Hulk comic I figured she must have a thing for the big guys. I shook my head in disappointment.

I left the room making sure to leave the door open as I had found it and went to the door on the other side of the bathroom pleased that Riley took long showers as I did. I pulled Bud off my shoulder where he had been still for a little too long for my taste and held him in my hand as I opened the door to another small room.

This room was a bit more interesting. Although it too had no windows, it did have a battered and scarred wooden desk with a laptop and printer sitting on it. Interesting. Riley has no money yet she has a laptop and a printer. The walls on either side of the desk were piled high with boxes. After assuring myself that the shower was still on, I walked into her room and made a beeline for one of the white boxes. I lifted the lid with my thumb and peered down into the box. My god the woman had hundreds and hundreds of comic books. Each of the boxes held at least a hundred comic books, each enclosed in a plastic bag with white cardboard. After looking in three boxes, I shook my head. Riley was becoming more and more interesting by the moment. My attention was finally turned to the desk where the laptop was set up. As I pulled the chair out and sat down in front of the computer, I did experience a moment of guilt. After all, the woman had saved my ass and brought me back to her place to nurse back to health. Was it right of me to go through her shit just to appease my curiosity?

"Hell yeah!" I whispered. I only wished I had looked in her medicine cabinet when I was in the bathroom.

I hit the power button on the side of her computer and waited patiently for it to boot up. I kept one ear trained on the bathroom just in case I had to do a quick dash out to the front.

The computer finally booted up but I hissed in disgust as the request for password window appeared.

"Damn it, Riley, you live alone. What the hell would you need a password on your computer for?" Of course the fact that I was now trying to snoop through her stuff did occur to me but that's sort of different.

I half-heartedly tried Lou Ferrigno, The Hulk, and that Cory Everson chick to no avail. It occurred to me that I didn't know Riley's last name or I could try that too. I looked down at the desk and noticed three small drawers and opened the middle one hoping to find a piece of mail that would tell me Riley's last name. Finding nothing in the first two I slid open the last one. Bingo I pulled out an unopened cell phone bill and looked at the address. I wasn't surprised that it was addressed to a PO box in town.

"Riley Medeiros huh? Very nice, it suits you." I always talk to myself. It comes from being an only child. I put the phone bill back and was just about to close the drawer when I spotted a picture sitting on top of a stack of mail.

"Son of a bitch!" I sat Bud down on the desk and pulled the drawer all the way out. Inside was a picture if me. I would recognize that picture anywhere. It was the one of me that I had taken my first day on the force. I looked young and slightly dazed, but exceedingly happy. How did Riley get my picture? Hell I didn't even have this one aside from my police ID and I had given that to the Captain when I turned in my gun and badge. I frowned angrily and rose to my feet. This picture was not the same size as the one on my badge it was bigger. How in the hell did Riley get it? Unless she was somehow involved with the men who had tried to abduct me. Perhaps her running to the rescue act was just that, an act.

It dawned on me then that there was a very real possibility that I was in danger. I scooped Bud up quickly and didn't bother to turn off the laptop or close the drawers or sweep the little deposits that Bud had left on the desk. I quickly placed Bud back into his condo and grabbed my bag and dirty clothes.

"Shit!" I grimaced as I tried to carry Bud's condo and the bag on my shoulder, there was no way I was going to be able to walk out of here. I looked around frantically before finding Riley's car keys on her nightstand. I grabbed them and left the apartment.

As I carefully eased my way up the dark narrow stairs I imagined that I could hear the shower stop but I knew it was nothing but a figment of my imagination. Riley easily had a good fifty pounds on me and with my injuries and her height she would no doubt be able to handle me quite easily.

I quickened my step once I reached the theater itself. By dragging my fingers along the wall, I was able to reach the door and push through it. I forced myself to run to the only vehicle in the lot. Setting my bag and Bud down on the ground, I started searching through the many keys on Riley's key chain.

"Shit, goddamn it," I growled in fear. Riley was probably out of the shower and aware that I had gone through her stuff. I almost sobbed in relief when one of the keys turned in the lock and I was able to pull the door open and sling Bud and my bag clumsily inside. I shoved the key in the ignition and hoped it was the same one that worked on the ignition. I breathed a sigh of relief as the engine sputtered to life.

I cut on the headlights and gasped as the door to the theater flung open and Riley came running out.

"Foster?" The concerned look on her face caused me to shudder.

I threw the car in reverse and, in a spray of smoke, I backed the car up the road. She took off running and to my great shock managed to stay just in front of my headlights.

"Foster, let me explain," she yelled.

The smell of burning rubber alerted me to the fact that I had left the emergency brake on. I disengaged it with a lurch that sent me careening up the path and away from her. When I had put a significant distance between us, I whipped the car around. Bud's condo crashed to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Bud, I'll make it up to you," I murmured under my breath as my pounding heart settled in my chest. Even though I knew that she could not possibly be following me, it occurred to me that she could have called someone from that cell phone of hers. It was only a few minutes before I got my bearings. It turns out that the movie theater was in an old part of Century City that few people went to because there wasn't much by way of a business district there anymore. In less than twenty minutes I found myself parked in the Secrets parking lot.

I didn't relish the walk home but I didn't want to take her car to my house either and give her any reason to try to contact me again. I ignored the loneliness that accompanied me back to my apartment like a guest that refused to go home. Instead, I turned to an emotion that I was more familiar with, anger.

Once I was safely locked in my apartment, I reached under my bed and pulled out my strong box and unlocked it. My father had given me a Glock 9 millimeter when I turned twenty-one. I had never really had a need to use it, though I preferred this gun to my service weapon. Riley, if that was even her real name, would have a surprise waiting if she ever tried to fuck with Foster Everett again!

Smitty's funeral dawned clear and bright, almost belying the fact that it was truly one of the worst days of my life. Sleep evaded me the night before. I think I was half fearing, half hoping, that I would hear from Riley. I didn't.

I made my way to the cemetery as if in a fog. Monica stood at her father's side and when she saw me, as usual she rushed to me and enveloped me in her arms. This time however, instead of the sweet kiss or the playful teasing about my clothes she clung to me desperately, her hands balled into fists pressing into my back. I closed my eyes and tried to stem the flow of tears that were coming down my face, but couldn't.

The scent of bougainvillea perfumed the air and graced the lattice that cornered each end of the path that we walked down to get to Smitty's final place of rest. The few remains that they were able to remove from the molten heap of his car were what would be buried in the coffin. I felt a pain wrench at my heart as I realized that Smitty's remains would not even fill half of the coffin, there had been so little of him found.

I gripped Monica's hand in one of mine and held on to a white rose with the other. I didn't listen to any of the words that were said by Smitty's friends and family. I couldn't. When it came time to drop my rose I held its perfectly green, thornless stem in my hand and closed my eyes.

"Good-bye, my friend." I dropped the rose into the hole that served as a vesicle for the sorrows of the living. I held Monica and kissed her cheek. I made small talk with her father and turned back to her, "If you need me, you know where I am."

She nodded her head. I kissed her cheek once more and with a final look at Smitty's gravesite, I turned to go. I would not return, there was nothing of my partner here just remnants of a body. I would hold him close to my heart and in my memories. There would be no need to return to this place. I leaned back into the seat of the cab and looked out the window at the beautiful sunny day hoping to thaw my overcast heart with its spiteful warmth.

* * *

"Hey, Everett, I'm real sorry to hear about Smitty."

I made small talk with my co-workers because I could tell they needed to say something. It's one thing to lose your partner in the line of duty. It's another if he takes his own life. It's almost like you failed in some way. Like you didn't have his back when you should have.

See but that's just it. Over the week since Smitty's funeral I had racked my brain for a reason. I looked at it from every direction and I still couldn't see why Smitty would do such a thing. Every time we talked, he was always the strong one. I was the one that couldn't handle it. Even if he was afraid that I would come clean, he knew I would never implicate him in any way. What could be so bad that he would give up on his life and family?

I wasted as much time talking with my co-workers as I could before I made myself knock on the door to the Captain's office. I waited for her summons and quietly took my seat across from her. Usually I would launch right into some excuse but this time I wanted her to speak first.

I had gone back to the psychologist because it was either that or waste away in my apartment. I told them what they wanted to hear so that I could get back to work. By the time I left the place, the psychologist was chastising the Captain for removing me from duty. "The only stable thing in her life right now." It was a short-lived high.

"Well, Everett, I see you pulled one over on the shrink again."

"I don't know what you mean, Captain." I could tell that she wanted to say more but in deference to the fact that I had just lost my partner, she forced herself to let it go. I watched with interest as a small vein pounded in her temple. To think that I'd once grudgingly conceded that she might be considered attractive. There was nothing vaguely attractive about this woman. Even the clothes she wore seemed contrived to make people think she was powerful.

"Well here is your new assignment." She pushed a sheet of paper toward me, a malicious glint in her eye. I told myself not to flip but when I saw the department head listed, I almost lost control. In general, civilians staffed the records department for our division. Occasionally if someone on the force got hurt or, for whatever reason, could not perform on the street, they where allowed to work in departments like records. In other words, it is a boring ass desk job.

I clenched my teeth before asking coolly, "what is this, Captain?"

"Well, the psychologist felt that in your emotional state it wasn't a good idea for you to not be at work. But he can't make me put you back in your normal capacity."

"I'm a Detective not a goddamn file clerk!" Okay, my voice was raised a little but I still felt I was in control.

"You're a loose cannon is what you are, Foster Everett! You think anyone wants to partner with you? Hell no, I couldn't get anyone out there to volunteer to be your partner. Anybody working with you right now would not only have to watch his or her own back but yours, too. Look, poor Smitty..."

"Poor Smitty killed himself, lady." I stopped myself from continuing because my anger wasn't really directed at her it was directed at Smitty. I felt that he betrayed me by leaving me here to handle this shit on my own. His killing himself made me realize that I didn't know him at all. I was just as angry with Riley for proving to me that I couldn't trust my own instincts about anyone.

The Captain started taping her pen on a yellow legal pad. "You're no use to me right now, Everett. I can't put you back on the streets, not in the state you're in and that's final."

Anger fought to be let loose on this pompous self-confident bitch but I took a deep breath and sighed. "For how long?"

"For as long as it takes you to get control of yourself."

"Ahh, come on, Captain, you need to give me something better than that," I pleaded.

"Well you have a follow up appointment with the doctor in a month. If he clears you to return to your former duties, we can talk then." She leaned back in her chair and waited, I could tell she expected me to fly off the deep end and indeed I almost did.

"Okay, Captain. Thank you for your time."

I stood up. The look of shock on her face was almost enough to make my demotion, however temporary, seem worth it. Who am I kidding? I was furious; all I wanted to do was quit this damn job and move to the deep back woods for twenty years. But I would not give her the pleasure of scaring me off, not yet anyway. I walked out of her office patently not looking at any of the traitors who had just buttered me up with their concern moments before but had not wanted to partner with me. Cops are a superstitious bunch, detectives even more so. The fact that Smitty killed himself left a stigma on me worse than the stink from a skunk.

The records department was located in the basement. For it to not have any windows it was actually a rather cheerful place thanks to the head of the department Marcus Vansant. I walked up to the bulletproof glass and frowned. What the hell would someone want to shoot up a records room for? The need for security, definitely, but bulletproof glass was just plain overkill. I would have to ask Marcus about that.

"Hey, is Marcus here?" I asked the woman sitting at the desk popping gum like there was no tomorrow. I noted with interest how attractive she looked aside from the constant working of her jaw. Her short hair had a slight tinge of pink to it. Made me think of some of the girls from my neighborhood back when I was a kid in New York. Many of them would get a similar affect with raspberry Kool-Aid. I wanted to do it but my father forbade me. He said I would look like a homegirl.

"Hey Maaaarcus?" she yelled behind her without looking up from her computer screen.

"I could have done that," I said.

She looked up, a large, bright fake smile spread across her face only to disappear as she returned back to her computer. In other words go away annoying bitch, I thought. Her smart-ass response pissed me off of course. "Do I have a ‘fuck with me' sign plastered on my face or some..."

"What can I do for you?" I watched as the heavyset Marcus walked up to the window. Marcus and I went way back. I didn't get to talk to him as much as I would like, but I really liked him. Partly because he was the only openly gay person that I worked with, and partly, because he was just a personable kind of guy. I watched his attractive brown face light up as he finally realized who was standing behind the bulletproof glass.

"Oh my gawd. Foster, where you been girl? I haven't seen you since the drag show over at Stacy's?"

Oh yeah, Marcus is also a drag queen. He wears these six-inch heels that make me wince just thinking about them. They probably accounted for his ability to walk like he was balancing a book on top of his head.

"Hey, Marcus," I grinned. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. "Captain told me I had to come down here and work with you for a while until I can get my self ‘emotionally together'."

"Well shit, girl!" Marcus pursed his lips and looked me up and down. "Maybe you should have your own office, then. ‘Cause you're going to be here for a while. Ohhhh Kaaaay?" The henna-haired chick at the computer cackled and they high fived while I just glowered at them both. I couldn't help it. I had to crack a smile. Marcus could always get one out of me no matter how hard I tried to be mad.

"Alright you two. That's just wonderful. Make fun of the emotionally traumatized white chic over here." For the first time in a long time I felt some of the pressure around my heart lift.

Marcus unlocked the door to the file room and I walked in. "I was sorry to hear about Smitty. I know you two were close. You going to be okay?" He touched my shoulder and I had to blink several times to keep the water from brimming out of my eyes. Damn I was turning into the biggest fucking wuss.

"Marcus I didn't come here to cuddle. So show me what I'm supposed to be doing here so I can get on with it." My voice sounded a bit harsh and I hoped that Marcus wouldn't take offense but I needed to get some semblance of order in my life and hard work was the only thing that would keep me from feeling sorry for myself.

"You got it, woman. Your desk is over here." He led me around four large shelves overflowing with files.

"These files are from cases that have been worked on in the last ten years. Once a year we go through them and color-code them by the year that they were opened. At the end of the fiscal year we go in and make sure that all parts of the file are intact." Marcus pulled out a file and opened it. "See this? It's a log that we keep whenever a new piece of evidence or info is added to the file. You folks are not supposed to return this unless it has all its parts nor are you supposed to add anything without having me or Chandra code it but it happens all the time."

"That's why every year we have to go through this huge process of making sure that the file is fully intact."

"What if it isn't?" I asked. I really didn't care, to be perfectly honest, but Marcus was my friend and the least I could do was look like I found his work interesting.

"Well, then that's where the fun begins. Technically, we can't send files out unless they are complete. Over here is where your desk is." He pointed to a desk piled high with case files.

"There's a desk under there?"

"Yup, and it's all yours. What you're going to be doing is checking those files on that computer." I craned my neck and noted with some surprise that there was indeed a computer on the desk as well. "Everything here is automated so all you have to do is scan in the barcode and you should be able to see who the last person was to check out the file. Since we check them before we file them away it's more than likely that the last person who checked it out is the one who still has the documentation."

"Interesting. So what if they don't know what they did with it?"

Marcus shrugged. "Well we file it over here for a while where it gathers dust. Occasionally things show up in the wrong case file and we find them but most of the time a note is left in the log and we just send it off to storage incomplete. Rarely are these cases ever picked back up again anyway unless it's a cold case and someone confesses or something. Then I just pull it back out of storage."

I nodded, he was right there was only a certain amount of time that we had to solve a case. After the trail ran cold it was very unlikely that we would apprehend anyone. Thank God criminals where dumbasses and quite often couldn't keep their mouths shut. That's where Smitty and I would have come in, I thought sadly.

"This is the coding system that I created when we got automated."

Even though the filing system seemed archaic, I knew it was actually top of the line. In the past everything was done by hand. It was almost a guessing game to find anything in the file room. Marcus had single handedly petitioned Monica's father, the Mayor, City Council and anyone else he could get his hands on about the value of automation. It's one of the reasons that the file room could now operate with only two full time workers and some part time help almost year round.

"As you can see, each piece of information has a code based on a category. For example, this is a crime scene picture. He pointed to another series of numbers. "And this is informant info.... all of these can be easily checked back in or out with this." He pulled the trigger on a white gun like apparatus twice for emphasis. He pointed it at the bar code on the folder; a red line appeared across the bar code and with a beep the file name popped up on the computer.

"Cool," I uttered even though I was hardly paying attention to anything that Marcus was saying. I watched my friend as he with great joy, explained something to me that I found entirely too boring to do on a daily basis. But the simple joy and happiness that spread across his face was enough to make me wonder about my own happiness. I could never be this happy running a records room for the rest of my life. But did I really want to be a detective for the rest of my life either?

Marcus spent nearly an hour acclimatizing me to my new duties. Half the time I actually did pay attention to what he was saying and when he finally left me to my own devices I was confident that I could do this job in my sleep. And that's exactly what I did.

* * *

For the next two weeks I filed, labeled and hole punched for eight hours a day. Okay, maybe it was more like seven because at least one hour of that time would be spent sitting in Marcus's office shooting the shit about his annoying ex-boyfriend. It was during one such conversation that I found myself telling Marcus about Riley.

I watched his pencil scribble out the letter "R" as he unconsciously began to doodle Riley's name.

"So you haven't seen her since you left her place?"

"No."

"Well aren't you curious what her story is?"

"No."

"I don't believe you." He started to make a dark capital "I". My eyes were riveted to the paper. As were his. "I haven't been over to Secrets in a while but I talk to Stacy almost every day. She seems to love her."

"Yeah, Stacy would just love to sleep with her."

"And you have a problem with that?"

"No, it's none of my business, but Stacy's girlfriend might have a problem with it, besides Riley's straight."

"Doesn't sound like she's straight to me if she kissed you back." I sighed as he etched in the letter "L" his pencil darkening the letter until the lead had to have gone at least four pages past the one he was writing on.

"I don't know, Marcus. What the hell would she be doing with my picture, though?"

"She's the only one that could answer that, Foster."

"She's probably already gone home by now, anyway," I said and was shocked to realize that the fact that she might be gone disappointed me.

"Well, you could always track her down. You are a detective, aren't you?"

"I'll think about it." I watched the pencil go over the paper for another few seconds before I stood up to go. "I better get back to work."

"You going to contact her? See what she has to say about it?"

I looked back. Marcus was still doodling away. His head down and slightly tilted as if he was creating a masterpiece. I knew from experience that the doodle would probably flower into any number of things that came up throughout the day. I stared at his masterpiece, frozen in thought.

"There's only one ‘L'," I said and immediately wished I hadn't.

His pencil stopped and he looked up. "What?"

"There's only one ‘L' in Riley."

His grin made me uncomfortable so I shrugged and went back to my desk.

* * *

The following week I had two psychiatric evaluations that came to nothing and I avoided any and all contact with any detectives from my division. I also didn't answer my home phone, which had now developed the annoying habit of ringing off the hook. Much to my delight and or chagrin, depending on the time of day, I had also not heard from Riley. By this point, if her story was even remotely true, I was positive that she was back in Northern California and on her way to a new career in physical therapy of some sorts. More and more I found myself returning to thoughts of her at the oddest moments.

Marcus said I was one of the best workers that they had down there in years. The reason being, I liked the slow, mind-numbing work. I didn't have to think or feel or use anything other than common sense. One goes before two, "A" goes before "B", you get the picture. I was in the midst of doing just such a job when I came across something that caused me to pause.

"Hey, Marcus, could you come over here for a minute?"

"Yeah?"

"Look at this." I opened the file in my hand and held it up.

Several of the documents that should have been in the file were missing and from the looks of it, whoever had taken them hadn't even bothered to remove them properly. There were still ripped pieces of paper in the seam of the folder where they had ripped the pages out.

"Who the hell would do something like that?" Marcus asked angrily.

"Don't know." I shrugged. "Maybe someone was in a hurry."

"Yeah well whoever it was, is going to hear from me." Marcus angrily took the folder, picked up the electronic gun that sat on my desk and scanned the barcode. I scrolled down my screen with a few taps and clicked on the last date that the file had been checked out. In blocky red letters the name of the guilty party suddenly appeared. I couldn't stop the gasp from escaping my throat. "Ah, damn. I'm sorry, Foster."

I stared at the name blindly for a moment and hoped that the pain wouldn't hit me as hard as it had a few weeks ago. "It's okay, Marcus, you didn't know." I was out of luck. The pain in my chest was just as sharp.

"Detective Joseph Smith" flashed accusatorily at both of us before Marcus clicked out of the window and snapped me out of my stupor.

"You okay?" Concern was evident in Marcus's voice

"Yeah, I'm cool." This had become my automatic answer since Smitty's death. But you know what? I wasn't cool at all. I felt like I had been in a fog and things had been happening to me that I had no control over. I felt powerless to stop what ever was going on so I just sat back and let it go.

"Hey, I'm going to get my lunch now alright?"

"Yeah sure, Foster, go ahead. I won't be here when you get back, I'm taking a half day so I can prepare for a show."

I nodded blindly, grabbed my keys from my desk and walked out the door. With the way I was feeling, I wasn't so sure that I would even be back. Is this what it feels like to have an emotional breakdown? I went up the elevator down the hall making sure not to meet anyone's eyes directly. It was a relief to finally reach the exit and I walked out into the crisp air gratefully. Rain had left the ground wet and smoke gray and the sky wore a matching cast. Dreary though it was, it made me feel less lonely. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked, head bowed, as thoughts of the last three weeks flowed through my head. All of them kept leading back to two things that just didn't add up.

Smitty just didn't seem like the type that would ever commit suicide. Cops didn't do things like drive their cars off the sides of cliffs. It just didn't happen that way. That was the kind of thing that some drama queen would do. I would like to say that I had never given this subject much thought, but hell, I'm sure that everyone in my grim line of work has at some point. I would venture a guess that most cops would eat their own bullet rather then drive a car off a cliff. Hell what if you survived and were maimed or some such shit? I stopped abruptly and inhaled, the chill in the air making the action painful.

"My god." White fog billowed out in front of me and faded, as I stood there frozen on the sidewalk. "Maybe you didn't. Maybe... maybe it was an accident. Maybe something happened to the brakes or you fell asleep!" I stopped talking to myself, as I was already one step away from being committed in many people's eyes. There was something more here. Call it instinct, call it wishful thinking, but I knew with a certainty that I couldn't explain: There was more to this than a man deciding to kill himself because he hated his job or because his marriage was rocky.

The dampness of the day steeled around my heart causing me to feel slightly dizzy. I turned and ran back to the office as fast as I could. I ignored the looks that I got when I ran through the hall and took the stairs instead of the elevators down to the file room.

"Everett, what's the rush? Someone forget to return a file on time?"

I held up my middle finger, as I ran not even bothering to look back at the culprit. I nearly crowed with joy as I noted the empty file room. I sat down at my desk and pulled my self forward before logging in.

"Come on, come on." I whispered as the system checked to see if I was allowed to access the database. "Oh, yeah."

The screen beeped once and I was in. I now had Smitty's accident report in front of me. I punched a few more keys and printed the documents out. Thanks to Marcus, each page held the file number of the original evidence pictures. The investigation seemed textbook. For whatever reason, it looked like Smitty had simply driven off the cliff. Almost as an after thought I picked up the file that Smitty had damaged and thumbed through it. Why would he tear the pages out? It was a case involving some porn ring masquerading as a cult. According to the coding system and the ledger on the front of the folder, the part of the file missing had to do with the witness information. I tried to pull up the file on the computer but was shocked to get an "access denied". The case was well over four years old but it should still be in the database.

"Where the hell is it?"

I clicked on another window and pulled up Smitty's investigation code. Sure enough, the investigating officer had opened a hard copy file. I clicked on the number to look at the status.

The blinking red "file not available" was still a surprise even though I expected it at this point. I leaned back in my chair my eyes still riveted to the computer screen. "What the hell happened here, Smitty?"

Not only had someone been tampering with the file, but it also looked like they had removed it from the computer completely. I hopped up and went over to the long wall of files and studied them for a moment. In no time I found the place where the rest of the files should have been but weren't.

"Shit what the hell does that mean?" I rested my head against the files and racked my brain for the next course of action. I didn't feel like traipsing upstairs and going through Smitty's desk...at least not until the area was clear which meant I had to wait until the early morning hours. There had to be something I could do in the meantime though.

The sound of Chandra's laughing caused me to break out of my spell. I rolled my chair from behind the wall of files that basically served to give me my own private little cubical. I stared at Chandra until she looked my way her smile disappearing as she said something through the thin little headset that she always wore. Vaguely I wondered how anyone could hold a conversation with her on the phone or otherwise. She had that annoying habit of popping her gum while she chewed it. Truth is I was rather jealous of the fact that she could do it. I still remembered sitting up in my room for hours chewing stick upon stick of spearmint and only getting a sore jaw for my troubles. Sure it's somewhat tacky but tell that to a thirteen-year-old kid whose only wish was to fit in with the other kids in the neighborhood.

"Come here," I said quietly and gestured to her with my finger.

She stared back at me suspiciously for a minute and then shook her head no. I grinned. Boy was she a hard one to win over. I had been nothing but nice to her since I came through the door, even offering to take her to lunch a few times but she still didn't give in. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked at her pathetically for a moment and then stuck my lip out and mouthed. "Pleaeeease."

"Girrrl...." I heard her say loudly into the headset before she turned her back to me. With a lot of exasperated sighing she finally pulled her head set off and flounced towards me. As I watched her walking I tried not to smile. The woman even walked insolently. Her hips swayed from side to side in her long wrap around skirt the tight body suit leaving nothing to the imagination.

"And don't be checking me out either."

My pleasant thoughts screeched to a halt as she glowered down at me sternly. "W...what?"

"I said don't be checking me out, you ain't my type."

I sputtered and sat up in my chair. It had been a long time since something like this had actually happened. I hardly ever got caught checking someone out. "What the hell makes you think you're my type anyway?" I asked angrily.

"You trying to say I'm not?" Her question was probably one that I myself would have asked in a similar situation but coming from Chandra it was just, well shocking. She actually made me forget what I was going to say.

"Yes...I mean no."

"Uh huh," she popped her gum a few times and then leaned over my shoulder to look at my screen. "I mean don't get me wrong, you're cute and all but I'm married now. You're about two years too late. So what are you trying to do here?"

I slammed my mouth shut and turned to look at the screen blinking rapidly. Straight woman are sooo...I don't know what they are but I think I'm going to stay away from them. With a small nod of my head and my resolve firmly in place I cleared my throat and told her what I needed.

"Is there anyway I can pull up all the cases that a certain detective has looked at in...say the last year? Marcus showed me how to find out who checked out a certain file but he didn't show me how to do anything else."

"What do you need to see that for?"

"Ahhh, come on Chandra help me out here."

She straightened, crossed her arms in front of her and glared down at me for a moment. The cute thing wasn't working for me today so I quickly made up what I thought was a plausible excuse.

"Look, I just want to make sure that those idiots upstairs aren't screwing around with me and Smitty's cases okay?" I continued to look up at her pleadingly and tried to look innocent.

"Look here, Lily..." she called me Lily from time to time, don't ask me why. I had told her my name on several occasions, but she just preferred Lily for some reason. Shit maybe I look like someone she knows. "If you get me in trouble for this, I'm going to have that ass, comprende?"

Mind you I didn't like her tone of voice, but I was trying to accomplish something here and arguing with Chandra wasn't going to get me what I want.

"Okay, okay I got it. Now will you show me please?"

"Alright, first you have to...." I watched her carefully as she swiftly scrolled through three screens before she got to a pull down menu that allowed her to go into a search of the current database. She typed in Foster Everett. So she does know my name, I thought smugly.

I watched as every case I had ever requested popped up on my computer screen. "Wow, that's awesome Chandra, thanks!"

"Um hmm," I could tell she still wasn't very impressed with me. "You can do a sort by date but it doesn't let you just pull up the last year's stuff. The most recent ones are at the bottom though."

"Sounds good. Thank you for your help, Chandra. I really do appreciate it." Her hips were already sashaying back to her desk.

She raised her hand to wave me off "Uh huh just remember what I said, Lily, if you plan on messing up something, you didn't learn that from me...."

I turned back to the screen, Chandra's last words having gone unheard as I pulled up the database screen and keyed in Smitty's name. I printed out the last few pages of the long list of files. I looked at the date on a few of them. Some of them had flags near them, which indicated that Smitty had requested a file that was no longer on the premises. The flag was what let Marcus know that he needed to pull the files from storage. The whole process usually took about two weeks. Based on the dates of the request, about a week before Smitty died, it was unlikely that he ever received the files. The odd thing was that even though he was my partner I didn't recognize a few of the cases that he had requested. I was almost positive that they weren't our cases.

"What would you want with those, Smitty?"

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes trying to ignore my stomachs protest at not having been fed. Today was Thursday, chili day at Secrets and I normally was the first in line when the small kitchen opened. I hadn't been there since I dropped Riley's car off. I was positive that she had already left but I was still resistant to going back to the club.

"Riley Medeiros." Out of curiosity I typed my code into the criminal records database and typed in her name. The only thing I got was an address in Oakland California and a code ARS which meant that she had had a record of some sort as a minor and had her record sealed. There was also a Child Protective Services record referenced dating some twelve years before. However, it was no longer listed in the database. I typed in my name and the division address out of habit. I could have Riley Medeiros's files in my hands in about three weeks. All I had to do was push send.

"Why do I care, anyway?" I clicked out of the screen and looked at my watch. I noted that it was after six and I still had not eaten. As was her habit, Chandra had gone home for the evening without so much as a goodbye. "I guess that wasn't the bonding session I thought it was huh, Chandra?"

I stood up and stretched the cramping muscles of my back. I logged off my computer and cut off my lamp. The doors automatically locked behind me and I walked towards the elevator. I pushed the button and looked back behind me. It never failed, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. For some reason this hallway always creeped me out. I always had to turn around and make sure that no one was behind me. It was always a relief when the doors finally closed and I was left in the relative safety of the enclosed space.

I took a shortcut down a nondescript side street and entered an equally nondescript little restaurant. I pushed opened the brown door, its bells chiming as I closed it behind me. "Hey, Emilio what's up?" I called out to the young kid that waited behind the counter.

"Hey, Foster, where you been?"

"Around. You know how it is."

"Yeah sure do, you want the usual?"

"Yeah, that sounds great." My usual was a huge carneasada burrito, a cheese enchilada, five rolled tacos, a side of chips and salsa and a coke...to go. I had been coming to Talk of the Town for as long as I had lived in this city. They no longer bothered to make jokes about not having enough food when they saw me coming. It's too bad really, I sort of liked when they did that. While I waited for my food I leaned my chair back against the wall until my feet were hanging above the floor. I had never noticed how much care they put into the small hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

Emilio was youngest of five kids all of whom had been put through college by their hardworking parents. He was probably home from college for the summer making extra money by working in the restaurant. The older Vasquez's used the summers to do some of the traveling that they weren't able to do when their brood was younger. They were a close-knit family. The kind I used to dream of belonging to when I was up in my room alone reading Trixie Beldon mysteries and dreaming of being a private detective. That was way before I became disillusioned with the world. There is a certain amount of sweetness in ignorance, isn't there?

"Here you go." I jumped and my chair crashed to the floor as I got to my feet. I grabbed the large bag and inhaled the aroma of hot tortillas and salsa. My mouth was already watering.

"Thanks, Emilio. How's school by the way."

"Pretty good, Foster. Only two more years to go, I can't wait."

I grinned. "Yeah I know, but hey, don't be in such a hurry to get out there you know? Trust me there's nothing out there that's worth rushing for."

I could tell he had no clue what the hell I was talking about so I just grinned and shrugged. "Later, Emilio, be sure to tell your parents I said hi. Okay?"

"Later, Foster, and I'll tell them. They'll be sorry they missed you."

As I walked home with my food, I made sure to check behind me as I turned the two corners that would lead me to my apartment. I had been more than just a little cautious since I had been attacked leaving Secrets. The old gay bashing argument didn't really hold water. Whoever my attackers were, they were looking specifically for me and were told by someone not to harm me. I yawned as I entered my building and pulled my keys out of my pocket. The plan was that I would let Bud take a quick spin around the apartment while I ate my dinner/lunch and then both of us were going to turn in early and hopefully get some sleep.

What is it they say about best-laid plans?

Bam, Bam, Bam.

"Who is it?" I yelled as I reached under my pillow for my Glock.

I silently padded on bare feet to the door, being careful not to stand directly in front of it as I tentatively peered through the peephole. The hallway beyond was empty. Relief flowed through me only to be replaced by wariness. Who in the hell would be hammering on my door at... 1:30 in the morning?

Realizing I still held the gun near my right ear, I lowered it. I waited for another few seconds and when the knock was not repeated I decided I would get dressed and check around the complex. Whoever had been pounding on my door was going to be in deep shit if I ever found them. I'd actually been sound asleep for once. I put the gun down on my bed and reached over to turn on the raggedy assed lamp that had been a hand me down from one of my neighbors.

A small sound at my window had me instantly reaching for the gun. I sat completely still, my heart pounding loudly. I had almost convinced myself that it was my imagination when I heard it again. Someone was trying to raise my window! The sound that I had heard was the squeaking of fingertips on glass as it's being pushed on. Okay, now there was no mistaking this. Someone had deliberately and silently climbed up my fire escape and was trying to get into my apartment.

In a half crouch, I moved toward the curtained window staring furiously at it. Adrenaline pumped in my veins causing me to grip my gun tightly. I forced myself to relax. I finally reached the wall and stood much as I had with the front door and waited for my would-be intruder to show his hand.

Tap, tap, tap. What the fuck, I mouthed. The person attempting to break into my apartment had the audacity to knock. As if I were going to open the window and tell them to have at it. I was just about to make my move when a brick came sailing through the window. I heard rather than saw a hand reach through the window and unlock it. The window that had always stuck stubbornly every time I tried to open it, slid open easily. Stepping away from the now billowing curtain I readied myself for a gun battle as a dark form slid through my window so quickly that I almost gasped aloud.

"Don't even breath asshole," I said in a voice that could have been misconstrued as calm.

The intruder froze and I trained my gun on him, ready to fire in an instant.

"Foster?" The gruff familiar voice was deep but definitely female.

"Riley?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's me," she answered, her body starting to relax as she moved to stand.

"What the hell...?" I almost lowered my gun in shock before I remembered that she had entered my home uninvited. "Stay right there. Don't you fucking move."

I backed away from the dark form kneeling on the floor of my living room. When my back finally hit the wall, I jumped even though I was expecting it. I flipped on the light to see Riley kneeling on my floor wearing tight black jeans, a knit cap that obscured all but her ponytail, a black leather coat and a black t-shirt.

"Foster, we need...."

"Shut up, damn it!" I trained the gun on her and walked a little closer. "How dare you come here! What the hell do you want, Riley? You're lucky I didn't press charges against you the last time."

"Foster, listen to me. We don't have time...."

"Don't have time for what? You want to finish off whatever the hell you were trying to do to me when you took me back to that damn broken down theater?"

Her face tightened her jaw clenching powerfully. "What the hell are you up to, Riley?"

"I never lied to you, Foster. This is all a mistake. I was trying to wait until you had calmed down before I explained it to you."

"Explain huh? You broke through my window to explain something to me?"

She nodded and started to speak. "Listen, Foster, I...."

"You what? First you happen to be following me. Then I happen to get tossed into an alley. You happen to show up when I happen to be getting my ass kicked. Is that about right?" I didn't let her answer because I didn't care what she had to say. This, what ever it was, was going to stop right now. "Then to top it all off you happen to have a picture of me in your desk. Did I cover it all?"

"We don't have time." Riley was really doing a good job of looking anxious now. "Please come with me, I'll explain it all to you in the car, okay?"

"Come with you?" It was all I could do not to set the gun down and jump on this woman. The fact that I was a law enforcement officer ...and the fact that I wasn't one to jump into a fight that I might very well lose kept me from doing just that. "Put your hands behind your head and lie down on the floor."

Her face paled as the realization that I was not kidding hit home.

"You know, if this is about that kiss you should really lighten up. It wasn't all that great anyway." I told her snidely and felt momentary guilt as a look of hurt passed over her face before she hid it.

"If I lay down will you listen?" she pleaded calmly, as if she were the one dealing with a nut case and not me.

"Yeah, I'll listen if you lay down." I had no intentions of listening to whatever lies she wanted to tell me. Once she had sprawled her long frame on the floor, I walked back to my dresser and pulled out a set of handcuffs. I dropped the handcuffs on the ground with a thunk and kicked them towards my captive mentally saying sorry to Mrs. Krychowski down stairs as I did so. "Reach up with your right hand and grab the cuffs. I want you to cuff your left wrist and then put both hands back behind you."

"You don't have to do this," she said softly.

"Yes, I do. If you want me to listen to you then we do things my way. I don't trust you."

She reached up, grabbed the cuffs, then put one end over her left wrist before putting both her hands behind her back. I circled her warily.

"Now will you listen?"

"Hold still," I growled at her and with the gun still in my right hand I sat down on the back of her legs and clumsily cinched the other cuff over her right hand. Her small grunt told me that I had them on tightly and I quickly scrambled off her and circled back around to stand at her head. "Now you tell me what I want to know or I haul your ass off to jail for breaking and entering."

"You're wasting time," she growled angrily. "We need to get out of here or..." her statement was interrupted by the sound of pounding on my front door.

"What the hell are you up to, Riley?"

"Police open up, Everett."

"Foster, don't answer that..." Riley whispered fiercely as she struggled to her knees.

I knocked her over and trained my gun on her again. "Don't move damn it. I didn't call them but they have good timing. You can tell whoever books your big ass down at division your story. I don't have time for it."

"Foster," she was really starting to sound desperate as I approached the door. "Don't open the door, you don't understand."

I peaked through the peephole and recognized the two nimrods that had taken over mine and Smitty's cases. "Great!" I grumbled as I unfastened the security chain and opened the door.

"What are you guys doing here?" Ponytail pushed past me and into my apartment followed closely by his flabby assed/chronically pink partner. "What the hell?" I was about to demand that they get the fuck out of my apartment when out of the corner of my eye I noted that the floor was empty where Riley Medeiros had been laying only moments before. The white curtain billowed out at that moment and the loud siren of a car alarm sounded through the broken window. "Son of a bitch!" I yelled and took off towards the window. I had barely taken one step however before I found myself flying forward and landing with a crash on the floor. The gun that I had been holding in my hand clattered across the room.

"Oh, how the mighty has fallen," someone said from behind me and I was yanked up by my hair and shirt to look into beady gray eyes.

"Now you weren't going to just run off on me were you?"

"What the hell are you doing, you asshole?" I was too shocked to struggle. First Riley, a woman that I barely even knew, had broken into my apartment and now in the span of about five minutes, two detectives that I had basically assaulted had done nearly the same thing.

"Well, now seems to me you owe us an apology."

I glared at them both still too shocked to ascertain what was going on. " I don't owe you shit. I'm going to have both of your badges," I growled.

"Oh you are, are you? Well let's see. Who do you think they are going to believe? A murderer who was trying to save her own life? Or two upstanding detectives who volunteered to bring her in?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I managed to say even though I felt like my guilt was ready to leap from my throat by way of a confession. "I'm not a murderer."

"No? That's not what we heard," said ponytail as his grip tightened on my shirt.

"Seems one of your last suspects was murdered. You mysteriously didn't go to pick up your perp and your partner reported that he got away before he could make the arrest. Only thing is, one of your fingerprints was found on the inside of a plastic bag that was wrapped around the dead guys face. Now all that just seems strange to me."

"Bag what plastic bag?" I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. This had to be a joke or some ploy to get me to admit guilt. There had been no bag, I was sure of it. Ponytail pulled his gun and for the first time in my career, I knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a gun. I didn't like it. I didn't like it one bit. "You want to tell me what this is really about?" I asked trying to sound calm.

"Haven't you been listening, bitch? We got you! You're wanted for questioning regarding the murder and mutilation of one Harrison Canniff. And you know what? We may want to know your whereabouts when your partner suddenly ran his car off the highway. Seems to me you had a lot to hide and maybe you were trying to keep him quiet."

"You know man, you may have a point there," Flabby ass chimed in.

"Look, why don't you stop fucking talking so much and take me down to division so I can get this mess straightened out?"

"Hey, you know it just occurred to me that you don't know my name. I'm Alvin Wilson that over there is Dan McClowski . And you seem to be missing the fact that you're not running things here."

"Look, cut the macho bullshit and just get on with it," I demanded.

The one with the sore shin reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a hanky. He knelt down and picked up my gun. "Hey, I bet this has all the prints we need and lookie here, it's loaded too."

They both grinned at me and in an instant I realized that I was in serious danger. My reaction, though probably not the smartest, was the one that I was most used to, I got angry.

"Alright you fucks what's this all about? Is this because I hurt your little man pride?"

I was scared but I was also angry. The fact that they brought up Canniff horrified me but the fact that they were looking for my prints was even scarier. They were trying to frame me for something. Never mind the fact that I actually did it.

"Man stop stalling and let's get this over with. I promised my wife that I would be home in a half hour."

That was all the confirmation that I needed. Ponytail turned his attention to his partner and I took the opportunity to fight the only way I knew how. Dirty.

"Ow, shit, you bitch!" Blood spurted from his mouth from the impact of the top of my head slamming into his chin and causing him to bite his tongue or his lip. I followed up with what I hoped would be a debilitating shot to the larynx. I swung around to go after his partner but I was hit from behind with something hard and I dropped to the floor.

"Damn it," he said, "no other damage to her! How are we going to explain a bruise on her head?" I heard this as I blinked my eyes trying to stay awake. A part of me wanted to just close them and let them kill me. Hell, I was dead anyway, I had been since the day I killed that Canniff guy. I just wanted it all to end. I closed my eyes and waited for the end to come visit like an old friend.

The loud report, pain, or peaceful oblivion never came. Instead I heard a shout that was cut off and a loud thud. I opened my eyes to see Riley her face contorted in rage standing with her foot on the back of Flabby Ass' neck. Ponytail was lying on his stomach his arm trapped under his body in an awkward angle.

"Don't kill him," I said weakly. Not because I cared about the sniveling idiot on the floor but because she didn't deserve to feel like I did. She took her foot off of his neck and with one solid kick to his temple, knocked him out cold. With a wince, I tried to get up as I felt her approach. She kneeled next to me but I was so confused that I didn't know whether to hug her or run away from her. Since I was in no condition to run I chose to pull her to me fiercely. "I'm so tired of getting my ass kicked," I said to keep from crying.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into my hair as I pulled her close. Her much larger body trembling as I held her.

"For what?" I asked half fearing she had something to do with this whole affair and half knowing in my heart that she didn't.

"I'm sorry, I was late again. You got hurt."

"No you got here," I told her as I continued to hold her close as her tremors increased. "That's all that matters."

Finally she seemed to get control of her body and with some effort got to her feet. I struggled to mine unassisted. "What made you come back?" I asked her as she stared down at the unconscious detective, a dark spot already appearing on his temple where she had booted him earlier.

"Come back?" Her voice sounded disoriented and fuzzy.

"Yeah, what made you come back after the way I treated you."

"I never left, I was hiding on the side of the bed."

"You were hiding...? Why the hell didn't you help me sooner then, damn it? I could have been killed." In my anger I had quickly lost sight of the fact that I had accused her of being one of the bad guys only moments before. In that moment it occurred to me that just because she had saved my ass still didn't mean she was one of the good guys.

"You handcuffed me."

"I..."

"Remember?" she turned around so that I could see the cuffs that still bound her wrist. She was able to help me only because she had hidden. Even as strong as she was I knew she would have been no match for the two on the floor without benefit of a surprise attack.

"Oh!"

She turned to look at me over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. "Would you unlock them please?"

"Uh, yeah sure." I walked over to my dresser and opened the drawer to search for the keys. As I unlocked her cuffs my doubts resurfaced again and I voiced my uncertainty.

"You know you sure do have a knack for showing up right when I need you," I said under my breath as I struggled with the small key.

She didn't say anything so I tapped her on her shoulder. "You're not going to respond?"

"To what?"

"Damn it, are you deaf or something? I asked you how the hell you manage to be around just when I'm getting attacked?"

I watched a fierce frown blossom on her brow. "I am just trying to help you." She rubbed the angry red welts on her wrists and glared at me. "Come on, I'll take you wherever you want to go."

She started for the front door and looked back at me as if to see what my decision was. "You coming?"

"How do I know it's not a trap? I want to know how you always manage to show up when I'm in trouble and what the hell you were doing with a picture of me in your desk."

"We don't have time. Those two may have called for back up. We need to go."

I looked down at the two men on the floor of my apartment then back at her. I had made my living on gut instinct and it had never led me astray before. Right now it was telling me that if I had to make a choice about whether to trust the two on the floor or the raven haired woman in front of me, I would trust her...in a heart beat. "Okay, let me get dressed," I told her numbly.

My arms were suddenly grabbed and I was pulled forward until I was looking into her tempestuous blue eyes.

"You...don't...understand there is no time left. We have to go. Now." She grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the door.

"Wait, Bud!" I didn't care what she said. Bud was coming with me. I ran back into the apartment and searched around franticly for his pet condo.

"Come on!" she said from the doorway and I was just about to give up looking for him when I spotted the plastic orange contraption partially hidden under one of my shirts. I scooped him up in one hand and ran toward the door. I had almost reached her when I spotted a pile of my dirty clothes on the floor and scooped those up too. We ran out of my apartment leaving the door opened and the two men lying in the middle of the floor.

"I'm parked out front," she said as we rushed down the two flights of stairs and ran through the lobby.

"What the hell's going on, Riley?" I said through gritted teeth

"I'll tell you what I know in the car."

I heard Mrs. Krychowski's little chicken dog barking his head off. Mrs. K would be peeking out her door at any minute to glower at whoever would have the audacity to wake up she and her precious from their sleep. I would miss them both.

"Sorry, Mrs. K." I mumbled just as I ran out the door and into Riley's old Land Cruiser.

Riley started the car and pulled away from the curb looking in her rear view mirror the whole time. "Scoot down," she suddenly ordered.

"Hey, are you going to tell me what..."

She abruptly pressed down on the top of my head. From my position all I could see were blue and red lights reflecting off her dashboard. She silently and steadily navigated us over to the side of the road.

"Be still. We'll let them go by."

"What the hell is going on? Where are they going?" I asked as I tried to sit up in my seat and was impeded by her large hand on the top of my head. I was just about to retort angrily but her next words silenced me instantly.

"Your place, probably."

My place? I thought in stunned silence.

From my slouched position in the passenger seat I watched as she carefully signaled and pulled us back onto the road. For the first time I noticed that she had a slight bruise under her eye and that her profile looked strained. Her mouth was pulled into a grim line and she constantly checked her rear view mirror every few seconds.

"You okay?" She didn't remove her eyes from the road but softened her tone.

"I don't know. Can you please tell me what this is all about?"

"I was hoping you could tell me."

"What do you mean I could tell you? You said you would tell me everything when I got in the car."

"I meant, I could tell you what I know, but that isn't much."

I had started to shiver so I rifled through the pile of clothes that I still held in my arms.

"Okay, damn it all, just tell me what you know then, Riley."

Riley signaled then looked into her rear view mirror, I was about to repeat my request for fear that she had either not heard me or was ignoring me. Then she started to speak.

"I told you the truth, Foster." She glanced over at me for a second before returning her eyes to the road and continuing her story grimly "I was concerned about you...it's my job to make sure the patrons get home safely. I usually stay back far enough so that I can watch you get home and still return to the club quickly. The night you were attacked I had a hard time finding Chrissie. I was too late to stop those guys from hurting you.

I watched as the hands circling the steering wheel tightened.

"You got there in time. They could have dragged me off somewhere or worse, I wasn't in any condition to defend myself." That was a hard thing for me to admit to her and to myself. If I hadn't been so hell-bent on dulling myself to the punches the world was consistently throwing at me, I would have probably been able to handle those guys on my own. Well, I would have landed a few blows at least.

"When I went to find your keys I found that picture on the ground. I just assumed you dropped it in the struggle. I got a phone call or something and I just... it slipped my mind, I didn't think it was important. I guess I accidentally shoved it in my desk with my cell bill and the rest of my mail. I'm sorry."

I looked straight ahead at the red brake lights of the vehicles in front of us. Her explanation was so damned simple that it might just be true. Something was still bothering me though. "Okay, that explains the picture I guess. But how did you know to show up tonight?"

"Stacy sent me."

"Stacy? What do you mean Stacy sent you? You mean she told you to break into my apartment? And by the way, aren't you supposed to be back in Northern California by now?

"One question at a time."

I opened my mouth to snap back at her but I saw her raise her hand to tenderly brush against the bruise above her eye. "You should let me look at that."

She glanced at me warily and then turned back to the road. "I'll take care of it when we get to my place." She said quietly.

"I had just gotten to the club and Stacy came running out the back yelling something about a 6AD on North 3^rd apartment 312. I recognized the address from when I went to

pick up your stuff. Stacy said that a 6AD was the code for picking up a felon."

I leaned back and closed my eyes. "Not exactly. It means that you're picking up a wanted felon who is believed armed and dangerous. A 6F is a simple felony code. A 6AD tells any officers approaching the scene that they will more than likely draw fire. The sons of bitches were setting me up," I growled.

"I rushed over as soon as I heard but you wouldn't open the door. I was hoping you were in there and just not answering because it was me so I went around to the window."

"That wasn't very smart, Riley. I could have shot you. I had no way of knowing who was out there."

"I was afraid you would shoot me anyway," she said.

"Probably right."

We pulled into the parking lot in back of the movie theater my door protesting loudly as I swung it open. With some effort, I got Bud's condo out of the car along with the one article of clothing that I wasn't wearing. A t-shirt that said "Property of the LAPD". Not anymore. I thought grimly.

"How're your ribs?"

"Still hurts when I breathe too deeply," I told her shortly.

"You have them looked at?"

"No I haven't. Why should I? There isn't anything anyone can do for bruised ribs anyway."

She didn't reply so I didn't say anything else as she opened the door to the theater and cut a light on inside. I looked inside then back at her.

"I'm not going to try anything," she said.

I nodded as I passed by her and walked down the dimly lit hall.. The whole situation was fast spinning out of my control. I wasn't able to grasp the full extent of what was happening to me. I needed time to think and someone that I could trust.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you," I told her as I carefully traversed the narrow stairs to her living space. As with the last time we were here, I felt a lot of apprehension, but just as before, I had no real choice. I was hurt, tired and confused. She was offering me a life preserver, however temporary. Tomorrow I would make her tell me the truth; but for tonight I just wanted to curl up in her bed and go to sleep.

"Where will you sleep?" I asked her as I walked into the cheery little room and gazed longingly at her bed.

"Same place as last time."

"Where's that?" It had occurred to me over the last couple of weeks that she had perhaps slept in the bed with me. I had been so drugged out by whatever she had given me that I wouldn't have known if she had.

She looked up at me quickly and pointed to the room that held her free weights. "In there, on the pads."

"Oh." I nodded my head and yawned, too tired to even say ouch as the now familiar pain from the bruised ribs coursed up my side.

"You're hurt!" she stepped forward and I unconsciously stepped back causing her to freeze, a look of uncertainty in her eyes.

"No. Occasionally I still get a twinge from the old bruise to my ribs. I'm sorry, I'm just a little..." I shrugged and she nodded and turned away from me.

"Hungry?" she asked.

I shook my head I was actually pretty hungry but not for any of that greenery I had seen her cutting up the last time I had been there. Now if she had a cheeseburger or something, I would have been in seventh heaven.

"Okay," she walked over to her bed and reached underneath it then into one of the drawers. She pulled out a green army blanket and black shorts and took a pillow from the bed. "If you need to leave would you leave a note or something?" I looked at her sharply but her voice sounded tentative as if she thought I would be angry with her for asking.

"I'd like to stay tonight if that's alright." She looked up and stared at me for a moment in that disconcerting way of hers before nodding and entering the other room shutting the door quietly behind her.

I sank down with my head in my hands. Someone attacked me...again. And I wasn't completely sure that the woman in the other room didn't have something to do with it.

I kicked off my jeans and looked down at my bare feet. I was too tired to care about being seen in my birthday suit. I pulled the t-shirt over my head and climbed naked between the cotton sheets and comforter with a deep sigh.

As I closed my eyes, I inhaled Riley's scent and wondered why it was so familiar. She really was something else. I was only sorry that I hadn't noticed it when I could have maybe done something about it. As of that moment I had no misconceptions about my future. My life as I knew it was over and Riley had so much ahead of her. That is, if she didn't have anything to do with whoever was after me. I decided I would grab a few hours of sleep, just long enough to clear my head, then I would leave this place. She didn't deserve the trouble I was in for. Hell, no one did.

© 2001 Gabrielle Goldsby

To be continued