The Devil's Right Hand - J. D. Rhoades [66]
“She’s at a place called Rescue House.” She picked up the phone directory and rifled through it. “Here’s an address.”
DeWayne nodded. “Pretty slick.”
She got that weird light in her eyes again. “Tell me how much you need me.”
DeWayne tried not to shudder. “Oh, I need you, baby, you know that.”
Marie had considered keeping Ben home with her. With no job to go to, she would have enjoyed the extra time. But he actually seemed to like the day-care where she had him, and he had fussed at the interruption in routine the first day she kept him out. She was also afraid that if Ben missed too many days in a row, she might lose the space. Good day-care was hard to come by. When she unlocked the front door and stepped into the silence of her house, however, she began to wonder if she had made a mistake. She shook her head. All the time I keep bitching to myself about never having some time alone, she thought. And now that I have it, I don’t know what to do with myself. She walked into the kitchen. She glanced over towards the kitchen cabinet where the liquor was stored. Briefly, she thought of pouring the sweet burning liquid in until it drowned all the places where she hurt inside. Something in her recoiled.
No, she said, Jack was right. It doesn’t help. At the thought of Keller, she felt another sudden twist in her stomach. She had clung to him like a drowning woman, and he had pulled her out. Then she had reached out to him when he had seemed in pain--and he had slammed shut. She felt a brief flash of anger. Damn him anyway, she thought. It was then that she noticed the message light blinking on her answering machine, an insistently pulsing number “2". She walked over and pushed the message button.
“It’s your dad,” a gruff voice said. “Call me.” That was all. The second was from a detective named Stacy. He had been a friend of Eddie’s, but she had always managed to make herself scarce when Stacy came around. He was big and mean-looking and the way he looked at her made her flesh crawl. The choice of who to call first was an easy one.
“Yeah?” the voice on the other end said.
“Hi, Dad.”
The voice softened. “Hi, kiddo,” her father said. “How you holding up?”
Not so great, Dad, she wanted to say. “I’m fine,” she said.
“Bullshit,” the reply came back immediately. “We went through this yesterday, kid. We going through it every time I call? You lost your partner. You almost got killed. You seeing anybody?”
For a brief panicked moment, she thought he meant romantically. She didn’t want to discuss Keller with her father. Then she realized what he meant. “Uh--no. I’ve been meaning to call the doctor the department recommended...”
“Screw that,” her father said. “Get your own.”
It sounded so much as if he was correcting an erring rookie that Marie laughed out loud. After a brief pause, he laughed too, a little ruefully. Then he said. “I mean it, kid. The worst thing that could happen to a cop just happened to you.”
“I thought getting yourself killed was the worst thing that could happen,” she said.
“Hah. You still feel that way?” he said.
She thought a moment. “No.”
“So get some help. And not from some pet shrink who’ll go running back to the Department with a bad evaluation.”
“Okay.”
“You heard from Internal Affairs yet?”
“They took a statement from me at the hospital. And I’ve got a message from a Detective named Stacy.”
“Fuck those assholes,” her father spat. The vehemence shocked her. “Listen, kid. We can’t do anything about the statement you gave at the hospital. But from now on you do not, repeat do not, talk to any IAD puke without a lawyer. I’m talking cop to cop here, not as your Dad.”
“You sure there’s not just a little Dad in there?” Marie said.
He laughed and his voice relaxed slightly. “Okay, a little bit Dad,” he said. “But I mean it.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll find my own shrink. And call a lawyer.”
“Better yet,” he said gently. “Why don’t you and Ben come home? We’ll take him hunting, like we used to go. He’s old enough to go with us.”
She closed her eyes. “I’ll think about