“Where have you been?” Carla asked as I entered the K-9 kennels again.
“Acclimating, just like Miguel suggested. Ricco is your dog?”
“Yeah, he rides shotgun for me in the back seat.”
“You want to go patrol that school? I have some ideas. Tom checked out some of them, and he suggested we talk to the kids, see how they are doing after the shooting, see if anybody will talk about anything fishy. Are kids allowed to pet Ricco?”
“Sure, he may look fierce but he is also well socialized. He doesn’t just bring down fleeing suspects. He sniffs for drugs and he’s learning how to find people in situations like avalanches and earthquakes. You two have a lot in common. You’ve got the eyes and he’s got the nose.”
“Look! A dog!”
“It’s a police dog!” Carla said brightly.
“Hey can I pet him?”
“Sure, and thank you for asking. It’s always smart to ask before you pet any service dog,” Carla said. “He might be working and you shouldn’t interrupt a service dog when he’s at work.”
“What’s his name?”
“His name is Ricco.”
“Hi, Ricco, what are you doing at school?” the boy asked.
“We’re just keeping an eye on things, seeing how the school is reacting to the things that happened last week.”
“What’s Ricco doing?”
“He’s just visiting the students. He likes kids.”
“That’s cool, Ricco, you get a uniform and everything. I wish my dog had a uniform. My mom puts bows on his ears. But a uniform, that’s cool!”
More kids talked to Ricco than they did to us. Ricco basked in all the attention. I was beginning to think the day was a waste of time when we met a little girl on the playground. She was timid, afraid at first that the big dog was as mean as he looked. Boys thought Ricco was cool. Girls stayed back for some reason. This little girl was an animal lover. There were bunnies on her sweatshirt and her shoes had Dalmatian spots.
“Will he bite?” she asked.
“No, he won’t bite. He only bites bad guys and only when he’s told to.”
“Hey doggie, you should have been here when we did have bad guys. It was scary. But you’re lucky you weren’t. He’d probably have shot you too.”
“Did you see the man?” Carla asked reluctantly. Well, it seemed that way but she didn’t want to appear eager to hear something that bothered the girl so much.
“No, my teacher locked the door so he couldn’t get in. But she was scared. She was real scared and she kept saying, ‘How did they know?’ which I didn’t understand at all. If Mrs. T was scared, I was scared, too, because Mrs. T is a smart lady. She is the nicest teacher. I used to hate school until I got in her class. She tells us interesting stories and she grew up on an island far away.”
“I bet all the teachers were frightened. It’s scary to have people shooting nearby.”
“Yeah, I think most of them were, but not the same as Mrs. T. She called in sick two days in a row and we had to have a sub. The sub was no fun. It was just work, work, work. Does the dog shake hands?”
“Yeah, just say, ‘Ricco, shake.’”
The little girl shook Ricco’s hand then ran off to play.
Carla and I looked at each other. We patrolled the grounds for the rest of the school day and when the kids lined up we asked where we could find Mrs. T’s class. We watched Mrs. T as one by one her students were released to their parents or sent to the bus. She was a middle-aged Filipino woman, dressed conservatively in navy blue slacks and a colorful tropical-patterned blouse. Her long black hair was pulled up into an immense ponytail and she smiled broadly when she spoke of the students. She greeted each parent warmly and ruffled the hair of the kids as she spoke. When she wasn’t busy, though, she seemed nervous, glancing around her as though she was expecting an ambush.
“What do you think?” Carla asked me.
“Technically, this is Tom’s case. I don’t think we should interfere.”
“Right, I just wish we had a name.”
We went to the front desk and after asking for Mrs. T we were told that Miss Tumibay had left for the day. Apparently Mrs. T was single and in a big hurry or possibly she was refusing visits from outsiders. We left the office satisfied that we at least had a name. Then Carla and I walked the halls until we found the classroom of Miss Kima Tumibay.
“I say Tom takes it from here,” Carla suggested.
Riding back to the station, Carla radioed for Tom’s twenty and found out he was not at the station. She left a message for him to call one of us when he returned to his office.
When we arrived at the station I headed for Rusty’s office. I knocked quietly and peeked in the window. He recognized the knock and came to the door. His smile lit up the room. He glanced at my uniform and sidearm. I’d had to be in cop mode for the day even if I was just talking to kids.
“I didn’t expect you in town today. What have you been up to?”
“Information gathering. Carla and I patrolled the school to see how the kids were coping. Since we decided we spend too many quiet evenings at home, I thought you might like to stay in town for a while.”
“It’s still early. I just stopped by the office for a file. I have an appointment in fifteen minutes. Can I catch you back here in an hour or two?”
“Sure, but it’s going to cost you,” I answered.
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m going to see if I can find an outfit I can enjoy the evening in.”
I was tired of this always happening. I was beginning to think I needed a closet in my Jeep. If I wore my uniform I ended up needing civvies. A couple of times I had stopped at the station to take out my frustration on the punching bag only to find myself dressed all wrong. I needed a dress, a jeans outfit, my uniform and exercise clothes at the station. What I really needed was a locker but maybe a gym bag in the back of my Jeep would do for now.
I am not Ms. Shopper by a long shot. I don’t enjoy shopping unless I am with my mom or sister and they help get me in the proper shopping mood. When I’m shopping alone I’ll decide on precisely what I need and only look for that one item. This time I decided that whatever I wore would tell Rusty what kind of an evening he was in for. But I also decided that I wanted something wrinkle resistant that would pack easily so that if I kept it folded and stored in a gym bag maybe it would remain wearable for when it was needed. Finding outfits that fit had never been a problem. Anything in a 5 or 7 usually worked well. The problem was finding something that looked like my style. Looking like Skipper had some disadvantages. If I bought anything typical then I looked like a kid playing dress up with my mom’s clothes. If I bought juniors clothes I looked fifteen. I had to think cute and perky, but older cute and perky, and not grandmotherly cute and perky. I was only twenty-six. You’d think it wouldn’t be that hard. I suddenly realized that Lavene would know what to do, so I jumped into the Jeep and headed for the mall.
“Girl, would you look atchoo! I thought you said you wasn’t becoming a cop. You said you were tracking.”
“I am, but occasionally I find myself in a uniform. Only problem is I have a date tonight and I don’t want to go dressed like this.”
“All right! Date clothes! That’s the kind I like! And you got a ring on your finger! How’s married life treating you?”
“Wonderfully, it’s been quiet though. That’s why we’re going out tonight.”
“I got just the thing to add spice to your life. Lookie here.”
The dress she held up was like Swiss cheese. I couldn’t even figure out where the head and arm holes were when it was on a hanger.
“Lavene, I couldn’t wear something like that.”
“Aw, come on. You’re smart. I’m looking for a customer who can figure out which way it goes.”
“It’s not that kind of a date.”
“Aw, I bet it comes off easier than it goes on.”
“Think Skipper. That usually works.”
I took an armload of outfits into a dressing room. Too stiff, too flouncy, too old, too young, it seemed everything was too something. I worked my way through the pile and found the Swiss cheese dress on the bottom.
“Lavene! I am not trying on this dress.”
“Aw, come on. Be a sport. You and I are the only ones who are gonna see it.”
“Oh, all right, but I am not going to buy it.”
I turned the dress this way and that. It was made of spandex. Why Lavene would take me for a spandex girl, I didn’t know. I finally figured out that all the holes ran down the sleeves and around the front of the dress so the one large hole for the head was plainer. I slipped it on and pulled it around until all the holes were in the right places.
“Lavene,” I called out, “if Cat Woman ever became a hooker, she’d wear this dress.”
“Lemme see.” Then, “Hmm, it does fit you though. And it makes you look, umm, curvy. You’re sure you won’t buy that dress?”
“Rusty would think I’d found a different profession.”
“You’re not going to a disco?”
“I don’t even know how to dance. This is more like a quiet dinner, maybe a drink.”
“Maybe some hanky panky? If so that’s the dress.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t buy the dress or couldn’t hanky panky? Ready for round two?”
I sighed, “Okay.”
I worked my way through the second armload of dresses and came to a quick halt.
“Lavene, I think we can stop now.”
The dress was white and silky, almost gauzy. The top was fitted, almost like a swimsuit and the skirt floated and swished in interesting ways.
“What do you think?”
“Cat Woman it ain’t, but neither are you.”
“Do you think he’ll like it?”
“Girl, they like anything with a skirt.”
“Okay, hold this for me while I run over and look at shoes. I doubt my uniform shoes go with a white dress.”
By the time I got checked out it was time for me to head back to the station. I peeked in Rusty’s window and opened the door a crack.
“Give me fifteen minutes,” I said and then went off to the locker room to change. I slipped on the white dress, slip and shoes. I definitely had to stop going shopping whenever I got stuck in town. I looked up and down at all the lockers. Fifty women’s lockers and maybe ten women were working at the station. I needed to find out who was in charge. I brushed my hair. I didn’t have a curling iron or make-up so there wasn’t much more I could do. When I found Rusty again he was talking to Tom in the lobby.
“I’ll have to send you out shopping more often,” he said smiling. The woman manning the front counter sighed.
“You wanted a date, Lavene helped me find a date dress. Hi Tom, I guess Carla filled you in on our trip to the school.”
“Oh yeah, definitely. She had to go bail out her husband, who broke down on the freeway, and she left me a message. ‘Check out Kima Tumibay’ was all it said. A little more information would have been helpful.”
“Kima Tumibay is a teacher at Del Sol Elementary School, room 16. What we got out of one of her students was that Mrs. T was unusually agitated, so much so that she took two days off afterwards to regroup. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t see that as being unusual. I’d expect the people most affected by this to need some peace and quiet after a school shooting. But the little girl said that while the shooting was going on her teacher kept saying, ‘How did they know?’”
“How did they know what?”
“I don’t know but it sounded like Mrs. T thought the shooters were looking for her. Her room is down the wing where the shooter got away. Carla and I watched her for a little while. She’s a very pleasant Filipino woman. The kids love her. I can’t imagine her having any enemies.”
“We’ll have to see about that. Thanks for the information. Was there anything else?”
“Yeah, Ricco is a cool dog and he’s lucky because he gets to wear a uniform. Three boys want to be policemen when they grow up and two kids wanted us to arrest the school bully.”
“Are you ready?” Rusty asked.
“Yeah, I chose an outfit, you choose dinner.”
“What kind of place is this? The sign is in four languages, but none of them are English. None of them are our alphabet. I’ve ruled out Mexican, German, French, Greek, Italian…”
“It’s Asian.”
“Well, I’d kind of narrowed it down that far.”
“That’s right. It’s Asian. It’s a good place to try new things because they have lots of different kinds of food. By the way if they say a fish is fried it could be that the whole fish is fried. I know you don’t like your food to watch you when you eat it.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
A maitre d’ seated us in a booth next to an indoor water fountain. All the tables had starched white tablecloths and matching napkins. The servers were dressed in black and white with complimentary starched, white aprons. Flowers adorned the tables.
I was glad I was feeling brave because none of the dishes had names that told me anything about them. Should I try Delightful Threesome? Raging Volcano? Enchanting Sunset? I noticed Raging Volcano had a little pepper symbol by it.
Rusty saw my confusion. “Avoid this part of the menu. You’re likely to get whole tiny octopus,” he said. He pointed to another section. “These are more normal dishes like you are used to.”
“What’s a little risky but somewhat normal?”
He smiled at me. “How about Risky Business? It sounds like you. It’s a businessman’s lunch, slightly spicy but pretty much a normal stir-fry dish. Plus I don’t see Trouble Magnet on the menu. Should we suggest it as a title?”
“I wonder what kind of a dish it would be. What are you going to order?”
“How about Twilight Romance? Or Bold Adventure? That one’s spicy.”
“Are you telling me you order by the title, not by what it is?”
“Only when the title might tell something about my intentions.”
“So, what do we get if we mix Risky Business with Bold Adventure?”
“I don’t know, let’s find out. By the way, Sex on the Beach is not a drink here. It’s bunch of naked seafood basking in a brown sauce with steamed vegetables and rice on the side.”
“You didn’t order Sex on the Beach when you were with me.”
“I didn’t order it at all. I saw it go by and knew I didn’t want it so I asked what it was called. It was a little disappointing to know I didn’t want Sex on the Beach.”
“Maybe one of these days we can go looking for a deserted beach.”
A waiter came over to our table to take our order so Rusty ordered Risky Business and Bold Adventure served family style. As the waiter turned to leave I noticed two women being seated a couple of tables away. It took me a moment to realize one of the women was Kima Tumibay. I watched discreetly.
“This is really not necessary…” I heard Mrs. T say. Her friend, also an Asian woman, seemed apologetic. They glanced around themselves frequently but they seemed calm. I noticed her friend spoke very little English and frequently reverted to some foreign language that I didn’t recognize.
“He may be an activist but he’s never been dangerous.”
Her friend spoke and she thought for a minute and then seemed to repeat the statement in the foreign language.
“Cassidy, are you home?” Rusty asked.
“Oh yeah, sorry.”
“What is it?”
“Remember the teacher I told Tom about at the station? That’s her in the navy slacks and Hawaiian shirt.”
Rusty watched. I knew I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but I knew I could get valuable information for Tom. I wished I could have switched tables.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “English first, Chinese second. It’s a rule….”
More Chinese.
“Mai, try short sentences in English, first. Tell me about your life before you came here. Short sentences.”
They began a choppy conversation with Mai struggling and Mrs. T correcting her gently. I turned to Rusty.
“So, how much can we use and how much must we ignore?”
“Let’s just open our own restaurant and then you can run it and all the people we are looking for can just come eat there, blow their cover, tell us their secrets. I can go undercover as a waiter and arrest them as I take their order. I was going to suggest we go to Trujillo’s for a drink but maybe we better not.”
“Rusty, you’re getting superstitious. Admit it.”
“At least she isn’t dangerous.”
“I don’t think you’d be able to pass as a waiter. No one would believe for a second that you were really a waiter.”
“Why not? I already carry a pad of paper and a pen. I could trade my gun in for a cheese grater or a pepper grinder.”
“The tips would be great. I’m for finding a deserted beach.”
Our food arrived and I looked at it suspiciously. It didn’t look too risky. I looked at the Bold Adventure and I could see little heat waves floating over the top of the dish. Or maybe it was just the spicy aroma which seemed hot. Rusty took some rice then spooned Bold Adventure over the top. He took a bite then reached for his glass of tea. Boldly going where many men had gone before, straight to the tea.
I scooped out some sticky rice and topped it with some Risky Business. I smelled it but I couldn’t detect much of anything over the Bold Adventure. I took a bite. It was a little spicy, but I dug in while Rusty carefully searched his plate pulling out little peppers.
“Don’t eat these,” he warned me. “They’ll set you right on fire.”
“This is good. Do you want some?”
“Maybe after this.”
The meal was interesting. Eventually I did try a little Bold Adventure. I didn’t find it as spicy as Rusty did. Maybe bold adventure was becoming more normal for me. I tried to keep track of the conversation at both tables at once but I wasn’t very successful. Whenever I caught a few words from the other table it was Mai talking about her family in very broken English. I knew Rusty didn’t appreciate work infringing on his date. I tried to remember this was Tom’s case; he’d talk to Kima Tumibay. It was none of my business.
Rusty attempted to use the chopsticks. He did okay while he was just grasping bite-sized pieces but gave up when he was left with only rice. I wasn’t going to try chopsticks in a white dress. That seemed like an invitation for a fashion disaster. Bold adventure had a habit of leaving stains behind.
When we left the restaurant I caught Rusty following and watching me from behind. I sashayed a little and he smiled and winked at me. It was odd; in the beginning I’d never really done anything to attract Rusty. I didn’t encourage him in any way but now that we were married I enjoyed flirting with him. In a way that was good. It opened up new and interesting twists and turns to our relationship. It was fun. And I thought he rather enjoyed seeing this new side of me.
Trujillo’s was busy but, since I was with Rusty, no felons tried to strike up a conversation with me. Rusty scared them all off. Benny and Marco, the Trujillo brothers were there working the crowd.
“Ey, Rusty, long time no see! Are you working tonight?”
“Trying not to. How’s business?”
“Is good, I’ve been trying to think up some gimmick to bring people in, like Mexican karaoke. You think Mexican karaoke would work?”
“Um, no.”
“Aw, why not?”
“Your clientele is too mixed. Not enough customers who know Mexican songs.”
“So,” he asked, “what brings you here?”
“An evening when Cassidy and I are in town together.”
“Oh, can’t make a gimmick out of that.”