Twelve:

I was heading back to my room when I noticed a red shadow following me down the block after Tomoki parked the SUV. Label me paranoid, but I was worried about exposure of the SRO location if we walked right up to it after parking.

Usually, the average human would consider my thought process and behavior excessive. However, I have a mob boss and some of Peckford’s finest ridding my metaphorical skirt. After a moment’s glance out of the corner of my eye, I hooked my arm through Tomoki’s arm, and I yanked him firmly into the door of the gas station on the corner. He gave me a surprised expression and I gave him a silencing look and he bobbed his head slightly comprehending my indication for silence.

Part of me was impressed with the younger mob runner because he was quick on his feet and did not startle easily. Many others might have pulled a knife or gun on me for such a knee-jerk action. They usually perceive contact and proximity from outsiders as hostile. Tomoki was not like this. He was guarded, but he was not instinctively violent, which told me he had some sort of arguably decent upbringing.

My current deductive reasoning suggested that Tomoki was most likely born into the yakuza and one of his parents, more likely his father, was a member of some level of standing. That is to say, he was not a foot-soldier, if I had to hazard a guess. Tomoki had the education and the well-groomed culture of pre-school, which is even more of a thing in Japan than it is here in the US. Despite the popular stereotypes, it was not uncommon for mob children to attend higher education and prestigious colleges. There were simply too many easy ways for dirty money to pay off college expenses on the down-low.

“We have a shadow, but I think I know who it is, so please just indulge me.”

I told Tomoki, and he nodded in understanding, as the red vixen popped into the door and the jingle caught his attention, even as I pulled her against the wall, and pinned her in place in the next moment. She battled against my arm, and I staggered slightly, but our eyes locked and I growled out, “Calm the fuck down, I was making sure you weren’t Irish mob!”

The patrol girl was wearing her street clothes now, tight pre-faded jeans and a grey Peckford PD tee-shirt. The clerk eyed us but seemed more interested in it as if this were an erotica fantasy playing out before him.

“Why would you think I am with the Irish mob?!”

She asked in a slightly high-pitched tone that still sounded absolutely sinful to my ears. She was all country, and all petite belle curves and slender but useful muscles. Her firm generous bust pressed against my chest, as I held her arguably longer than was necessary, but a girl struggled to tell herself to release a vixen once one has been properly caught! Her pupil dilation and flustered breathing told me she was very much playing for my team. I could see her struggling, even as she licked her thick pink lips.

“Because most of them are gingers as well, duh!”

I said, exclaiming slightly more dramatically than was strictly necessary. Tomoki and the cashier seemed ready to put on popcorn and watch the telenovela staring at us.

“Do you always get this handsy with every gal you run across?!”

She exclaimed in slight accusation, if not for her own slightly flushed appearance, I might believe she was offended by the prolonged contact.

“Nope, just the ones chasing after me in mob infested territory, whilst I am laying low, thanks to a certain someone.”

I said, adding the slight dig at the end. She seemed to remember her reason for being here now, and she huffed.

“I should be placing you under arrest right now!”

The statement was so comical with her pinned helplessly to the wall, that I laughed out loud and she huffed and narrowed her eyes at me. Her hazel eyes seemed to cut to my very soul, as I seemed to plead with the masters of time to prolong this tactile contact as long as possible because I knew we were skating well past borrowed time now. She was like a drug to me, and her very nook was perfect to my contours. I could easily imagine holding her tight after vigorously making love to her and delivering a world-breaking performance atop her succulent firm body.

“That’s cute, how many weeks have you been cut loose now?”

I asked, and she gave me a baleful look and said, “Almost a month now. My TO was tied up when I caught that robbery.”

She said, and I gave her a fake-innocent smile and a cheesy grin.

“What robbery? Did someone do a smash-and-grab nearby and I was not here to see it?”

I asked, and she scoffed and said, “Of course, you’re not going to admit to being on the location, are you? That would be too straightforward for a former homicide detective. What did they teach you when you were in the academy? Clearly, it was not the same rules and regs I learned!”

She fumed, and I nodded dutifully to her points as she made them. While I did admire the naïve sort of charm to her innocence, it was also extremely deadly for a patrol officer on the streets of Peckford.

“Honey, you need someone to teach you the rules according to Peckford, because here, there are monsters, not merely criminals. This place makes Chicago look positively tame and republican centered!”

I countered, and from the glare she gave me, this was not news to the young hot officer. She was not stupid, merely an idealist.

“Like you would know what Chicago is like! It wasn’t mentioned in your department folder!”

She blurted and I snorted and murmured, “Oh, I’d be surprised if they left enough paper in my file to wipe with. They didn’t want that going down on the record. I was in Chicago for a taskforce that pinched a huge portion of the Italian mobsters making in routes to Peckford, via Chicago. I spent five months in the southside of Chicago in various crack-shacks, but of course, I don’t know shit about it and clearly, I must be fabricating this, because it was not in my file. Tell me, was the reason for my dismissal even listed?!”

I asked, my tone taking on a feral note, and I noticed the officer seemed like she nearly winced from the look in my eyes. As was often too prevalent in a masculine culture, the victim suffered the long-term ramifications of the abuser’s deeds. Now he was off teaching younger detectives and running homicide as if he were a flipping Tsar.

“Let go of me, miss.”

She said in a controlled tone, very much a golden star in performance categories. She was the type of idealist that probably rehearsed her first arrest a year before she had a badge to make a collar with. Considering that I had technically been the antagonist at every junction right now, I nodded once and said, “If I step back and release you, will you promise to play nice?”

She smacked her lips and said, “I will promise not to tase you, for now.”

Her eyes were drilled into me in an intense manner which somehow made me think she was due a supper for this heat and tension bubbling between us, despite the very real threat of violence dangling in the air as well. Let’s face it, folks, human beings are very much capable of being hostile and horny at once. As we both appeared to discover if it had not been obvious before tonight.

“Ok, stepping back in one, two, three.”

I said, as I stepped back and dropped my hands to my side, but they hovered just near my baton folded up in my pocket. I had stuffed that bad girl in there before I left the SRO. To her credit, the young officer didn’t budge, except to square herself up incase I was about to launch into another assault.

“Why did you duck out on me after you dropped those bodies?!”

She asked, and I rolled my eyes and said, “Officer, I have no comment to any shooting. Any indication you may have that I could have been in or around your general vicinity is purely speculative and is now impossible to prove with any level of certainty. If I was around or even remotely in the proximity of your location during a crime, then I am certain I did not conduct myself in any manner that would warrant being chased all over Peckford, especially since it appears like you and I both seem to have a lot of Patties looking for us for some reason or another.”

Her eyes widened and she gave me a cross look and stomped her toe.

“You sound more like a lawyer than a cop!”

She accused and it was not a compliment about my knowledge of skirting a legal conversation. No, she clearly had a low opinion of the defense council—not that I could really blame her. Defense lawyers make a living taking a hatchet to the same codes the cops enforce and defend with their lives. Even here in Peckford, the laws mattered and to those who walked the beat and put on the badge, it truly did man something.

“Sorry, not sorry, my new role seems to cause me to be on the defensive more than I would like. However, if you’d prefer a nice conversation about the Falcons, I would be perfectly happy to shoot straight with you.”

I said, and she blinked, and then she shook her head once.

“Part of me is still wondering how much of this act is just a joke for you. Do you really have this little regard for the rules of law?! No wonder you were kicked out on your behind!”

I flashed her a lethal look and growled, “Ok, I’ve tried to be nice, goodbye officer, whoever you are.”

I said I turned to walk away, but her hand caught my wrist, and I shook her lose on instinct. She seemed to realize quickly that my reflexes could have put her down if I had not tempered them actively. Even if I had such violent impulses, I seemed able to control them with her, mainly because she was my idea of the perfect redheaded specimen. Hormones do very much play some small role in our behavior in the world, even in seemingly dangerous or untenable situations.

“Listen to me, please, I have a damn bounty on my head, and I need help. I need someone to tell me how and what I can do to lift this, and now!”

Her tone was guarded, but I could detect some fear in her voice. She was very much spooked to her core by the mob threats made against her life.

“Look, not that I know anything about your particular situation, but you should be eating and sleeping at the cop-shop right now. That is the best place for you, as long as you steer clear of any of the older detectives, some of them might possibly have a marker called in on them to gain access to you. So, on second thought, no, just run far away for now.”

I said, reversing my own opinion as quickly as the words could form themselves in my mouth.

“I just cannot bring myself to believe that this much of the police force is dirty in Peckford! I mean, this is like some BS mob movie in real life!”

She said animatedly and as if prophetical, gunfire roared and the glass door to the refrigerated drinks against the wall shattered to pieces and shrapnel flew all around us, as I pulled Tomoki to the floor on instinct alone. The young cop took cover next to us, and she pulled out a small twenty-two handgun, and I only managed not to laugh due to the extreme nature of our situation.