A Woman of Valor, page 9
The white-shirted waiter offered to top off her wine from the bottle chilling on the stand at her elbow, but she declined with a quiet smile. He nodded and refilled Beth’s glass, then emptied the bottle with a splash in each of the two men’s glasses. “Another?” he asked.
“Definitely!” said Val’s date, a thick-necked jock named Brent with curly hair and the uneven skin of a long-ago battle with acne. Brent laughed and half-pretended to pour some of his wine into her glass, but she snatched it away in time. He laughed again, a braying sound that reminded her of George Bailey’s goofy friend Sam Wainwright in that old Christmas movie, It’s a Wonderful Life. Brent laughed at everything, especially his own jokes. He probably laughed during sex. Something she never wanted to confirm.
“You’d better get drinking, if you’re going to keep up with us,” said Beth’s date, a 30-ish rake with a dark shadow of a beard and an easy smile. Joshua’s bright green eyes and tousled mop of light brown hair reminded her of the actor Bradley Cooper, but without the muscles or the charm. He smiled non-stop, probably to show off his perfect teeth, which at the moment were bright red from the beets in the salad, or the wine, or from sucking someone’s blood. Both men creeped Val out, though she couldn’t put her finger on why.
“No thank you,” Val said. “I have to work tomorrow.”
“Not until five o’clock,” Beth said. She gulped her own wine and waved to the waiter, already returning with a fresh bottle. “Come on, Val. Live a little.”
“If I were a cop, I’d drink non-stop!” Brent’s crazy laugh echoed off the walls.
Val cringed. If people like Brent became cops, she’d stay drunk all the time, too.
Then again, too many guys like Brent did become Clayton cops. Why weren't more of them polite, self-reflective, and respectful, like Gil?
She blushed. How inappropriate! Gil was her partner and mentor, and maybe friend, not someone to think about on a date with someone else.
“So, you’re not going to answer me?” Brent said. “Too personal a question?”
Val blushed again. She had no idea what he’d said. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What was the question?”
“Do you ever take a nip of something before work, to help you get through the stress?” Brent said. “You know, to take the edge off?”
“Of course not.” What an idiot. “Strictly against policy.”
“Lots of cops break the rules,” Josh said. “I mean, don’t they all?”
“Not Val,” Beth said, drawing Josh’s face close for a sloppy kiss. Val cringed. A display like that would be inappropriate at the humblest of burger joints. In a place this fancy, they could get thrown out. “Val’s a good girl,” Beth said. “She never breaks the rules.”
“Never?” Brent said. “You wouldn’t even, say, take a free meal, or fix a traffic ticket for someone?”
“Can’t we talk about something else?” Val said.
“Of course,” Brent said. He rested his hand on Val’s thigh. She brushed it away and crossed her legs, shuddering. He frowned at her, then issued another donkey-laugh. “I guess it’s a good thing we have more wine!”
The main course arrived, and the conversation shifted to how amazing everything tasted and smelled. Val’s own dish, a thick, juicy slice of filet mignon, dripped brown au jus onto her roasted red potatoes. A trio of asparagus stalks rimmed the edges of her plate like a green frame. A light scent of garlic and green herbs mingled with the savory aromas of the charred beef. She dove in with relish, the meat melting on her tongue.
“Try mine!” Brent shoved a fork loaded with lobster, dripping with butter, near her face. “I want to try yours, too.”
She shook her head, still chewing a mouthful of her filet, but Brent pushed his fork closer, poking her lips. She waved her free hand to brush it away, but she slapped the fork too hard, and the chunk of lobster landed on Joshua’s lap.
“I’m so sorry!” Val grabbed her napkin and dipped it in water, offering it to Josh.
“I’ll get it,” Beth said, rubbing Josh’s leg with her own wet napkin.
Josh grinned and spread his legs wider. “Clean me, baby!” he said, way too loud.
“Lucky dog!” Brent said, braying again. He leered at Val. “Hey, baby, why don’t you knock some food my way next time? I’ll get the napkin ready for you!”
Val sank into her chair. No way she’d make it through dessert.
***
On the drive home, Val squished herself into the corner behind the driver and placed her purse on the center of the back seat of Josh’s car. She hoped that would create a physical barrier large enough to discourage Brent from attempting physical contact. She regretted wearing a skirt, especially without leggings, but the unseasonably warm night convinced her to go bare-legged. Jeans, or stainless-steel armor, would have worked even better.
Sure enough, Brent disappointed her once again, grabbing her thigh and leering at her. She shuddered, failing to suppress the memory of creepy Uncle Milt grabbing at her body, grinning at her. No, no, NO—
Val pushed Brent’s hand away, but he seized the opportunity to hold her hand in his large, clammy paw. She pushed the vomit back down her throat—luckily she hadn’t eaten much at dinner—and forced a weak smile before wiggling her hand free. He grabbed her leg again, this time higher up her thigh. Dammit! She wiggled her hand under his, pushing it to the seat, but he took it as a sign that she wanted to hold hands, and wrapped his big mitt around hers. She sighed, considered pulling away again, but at least this way he wouldn’t keep grabbing at her. Instead, she held on to his hand for dear life, pressing it into the seat several inches from her knee. She stared out the window, plotting her escape from the inevitable goodnight kiss.
“Dinner was amazing, wasn’t it?” Beth said from the front seat when they stopped at a red light. “What’s next? Music and dancing?”
“Hell yeah!” Josh said, and their lips locked yet again in a wet, sloppy smooch. Val gagged and pushed Brent away from a similar attempt. Her heart raced, and the car grew stuffy. She lowered the window a notch.
“I love the night air, too,” Brent said, his face still too close to Val’s. His breath reeked of garlic and beets. “Maybe we can take a walk after Josh drops us off.”
“You need to buckle your seat belt.” She pushed him away. “And I’m sorry, but I need to call it a night. I have to work tomorrow.”
“Once a cop, always a cop, eh?” Brent said with another one of his braying laughs, but it lacked enthusiasm, and hurt showed in his eyes.
“Come on, Val,” Beth said over Josh’s shoulder. “Don’t kill the buzz. We’re all having fun here.” They returned to making out, like horny teenagers.
“I’d really like to get to know you a little better.” Brent freed his hand and explored her leg again.
She found her purse and set it on top of his wandering digits and wondered what species of octopus he descended from. “Perhaps we can talk on the drive home,” she said.
“Great idea,” Beth said. “Let’s go to our place. I’ve got a great bottle of wine I’ve been meaning to crack open, and—”
“I’m sorry, guys, but I have a splitting headache, and I need to sleep.” Val frowned at Beth, who returned an angry sneer. Too bad. Val needed out of this car and out of this date more than Beth needed another quick lay. Besides, she’d said the code words, “splitting headache,” that they’d long ago established as meaning “I need out!” The two friends had always respected each other’s needs in that department. No exceptions.
Beth sighed and patted Josh’s shoulder, nodding. “I guess we need to save it for another night. Val’s migraines are not a pretty sight.”
Good. Val didn’t get migraines, but it meant Beth heard and understood the message.
Beth and Josh chatted in quiet voices during the drive home. Val and Brent remained quiet, although he cast a few longing glances her way, and after rebuffing a few more leg-grabs, she let him hold her hand out of self-defense, fighting her revulsion.
“Here we are,” Josh said, parking a half-block away. “You guys go on ahead.”
Shit! “Aren’t you guys coming too?”
Beth glared at her. “Josh and I need a moment to, ah, talk.” She giggled. Josh grinned like a wolf. They’d be making out before the doors even closed.
Val sighed. Fine. It was only half a block. How much harm could he do? She kept her distance as Brent walked her to the door.
“I enjoyed meeting you tonight,” Brent said. “I hope we can get together again sometime.”
“We’ll see.” Val stopped on the dark front steps, already out of view of Josh and Beth, and wished the landlord had replaced the burnt-out bulb in the lamp. Or at least trimmed the hedges. She felt hemmed in by his size and the tight space. “I work nights...and I try to visit my niece on my off days, and...well, it was nice meeting you, too, Brent.” She forced a smile and braced herself for the inevitable move.
Sure enough, the moment she dipped her hand into her purse for her keys, he wrapped his long arms around her and pulled her in close. He cocked his head to move in for a kiss, but she worked her arms inside and kept him at a harmless distance.
“I’m sorry,” she lied. “My head really hurts.”
He stepped back, holding her hand, and gave her a long look. “Yeah. I’m sorry too.” He leaned in closer and spoke in a whisper. “Even with migraines, I think you’re a pretty sight.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks,” she said, patting his chest. “That’s sweet of—”
And then she couldn’t breathe, because he crushed her in a tight embrace, and his mouth smothered hers, his tongue slathering her lips and reeking of vinegar. She gasped for air, but that only egged him on more. He pushed her against the door, pinning her arms, grinding his body against hers. Panic rose inside her. His size, his strength, his weight, forcing himself on her, refusing to take no for an answer—
Then her training kicked in, and muscle memory took over. Her knee shot into his groin, and she freed one hand. She drove two stiff fingers into his throat, and he tumbled backwards off the steps, landing hard on the ground. Val pushed her key into the lock before he could stand. She ducked inside, but he slipped his foot inside the door before she closed it. It bounced open, and he lunged. She stepped aside and gave his back a one-handed push. He crashed face-first onto the floor, howling in pain. She landed another kick to the groin, and his howl turned into a hollow groan.
“What the fuck?” he said between gasps.
“If you aren’t gone from here in two seconds, I’m calling the cops,” she said, spittle spewing onto his chest. “And if you have any doubts as to what my fellow officers in blue would do to protect one of their own, please, hang out and let me educate you.”
Brent’s eyes widened, and he scrambled on all fours out the door.
Chapter Eleven
Val welcomed the sight of Gil the next evening, his warm smile and calm demeanor a welcome change from the poor examples of manhood she’d witnessed the night before. Her lingering soreness at him over the “$500 incident,” as they called it, evaporated with his polite and non-intrusive inquiries about her days off. Gil didn’t exploit their small talk to invade her space, he listened to her, he asked intelligent questions, and perhaps most important, he kept his distance from her. Handshakes and claps on the shoulder, just like with their male colleagues. Like...friends.
She could use a few friends.
“We might run into The Disciples tonight,” Gil said once they’d hit the pavement to start their rounds. “Did you bring cash for Pope, in case he finds something?”
“Crap, I forgot about that.” She dug into the wallet tucked inside her belt and found $50. “I need to find an ATM.”
“There’s one in the Quick Mart,” Gil said. “And I could use some coffee.”
Taufiq greeted them with warm smiles and an offer of free coffee and donuts. They followed their usual protocol of accepting only the complimentary drinks, per department policy. Gil poured while Val slid her debit card into the ATM at the back of the store.
“Dammit,” she said. “I was afraid of this.” She waved Gil over and showed him the screen. “The machine limits me to a $250 withdrawal. Can you lend me the difference?”
Gil laughed and brandished his own card. “I’ll split the bounty with you. I insist.”
She wondered if he’d noticed the low balance on the screen before he offered, and guessed not. Would Brent have been so gracious? Only if it meant getting her in the sack. Gil offered out of genuine kindness. She owed him, big time.
And not just cash. He took care of her, as a rookie trainee and as a person. A wave of gratitude washed over her. She should do something, show him how she felt. That’s what a normal person would do.
Val edged toward him, but something stopped her. Wouldn’t let her get closer to him. Wouldn’t let her do what anyone else in her position would do: smile at him, touch him, maybe even hug him, tell him thanks.
He waited, his head cocked, as if wondering what the hell was taking her so long. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No, no,” she said. “I, uh...forgot my PIN for a moment.” She touched the screen, and it beeped at her. Dammit! In her flustered state of mind, she’d pressed the wrong button, and canceled the transaction. She groaned and went through the process again, then stepped aside to let Gil use the machine.
The bells on the store’s front door jingled. The aisles screened her view, so she leaned around the well-stocked shelves to peek. A short, wiry black teen approached the counter, turning his head from side to side. She couldn’t see his entire face, but he looked familiar. The young man said something to Taufiq. Taufiq nodded, rang up a purchase—and disappeared from view with a crash. The teen grabbed at the register.
“Shit!” She pulled her club from her belt. “The kid’s robbing the store!”
Val dashed up the aisle, but the youth ran through the door before she reached him. She followed him out the door. Fifteen yards ahead of her, he sprinted at top speed toward the street.
“Stop! Police! Hands up!” she shouted and ran after him, but the young man ignored her, and gained another few steps on her in a matter of seconds. Val's legs churned, but he maintained his lead on her, racing down the sidewalk. She contemplated pulling out her firearm, but a half-dozen people dotted the sidewalks and traffic clogged the busy street. Too risky, and drawing the weapon would only slow her down. She ran on, hoping her conditioning would give her an advantage. But the kid was fast, and her bulky uniform and gear weighed her down.
He reached the corner and dashed into the intersection. Tires squealed, horns blared, and two cars swerved in opposite directions. Their tail-ends collided with a loud bang, spewing glass and chrome onto the street. Locked together by their rear fenders, they blocked the young man’s path, and he had to run around them. Val reached them moments later and, with an athletic leap, scrambled over their hoods, landing a few steps behind the youth. She flipped her baton forward. It got tangled between his legs, and he landed on the sidewalk, hard. Bills of various denominations littered the pavement.
Val grabbed his arms and yanked them behind his back before he could recover and lifted him to his feet, surprised at how light he was. She pushed him against the brick wall of the adjacent building, cuffed him, and spun him around to see his face.
Her heart sank when she recognized him. “Dog!” she shouted over heavy breaths. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing, robbing a place with two cops inside the store?”
Dog’s eyes widened. Recognition dawned, and his head drooped. “Damn, man, I didn’t see ya’ll in there.” He glanced up. “The money’s all getting away.”
Val stole a quick glance around. Sure enough, a light breeze had picked up, scattering the bills further up the street. Footsteps thudded toward her from the other direction, followed by Gil’s voice, shouting something she couldn’t make out.
She glared at Dog, cowering against the wall. “You stay put,” she said.
Dog nodded, dropped to his knees, and folded his hands behind his neck. Val shook her head. The kid knew arrest procedure better than she did.
She gathered up her baton and as many of the loose bills as she could. Gil arrived moments later and stood guard over Dog while a few passersby helped retrieve the money.
“How in the hell did you ever catch him?” Gil asked when they’d finished.
“I got lucky,” Val said. “Dog didn’t count on there being traffic.”
She marched Dog and the cash back to the Quick Mart while Gil tended to the two drivers who’d collided.
“Thank you, Officer Valorie!” Taufiq said when they returned. “You have rescued my store!”
“What happened?” she asked.
“He pushed me, I fell against the wall,” Taufiq said. A dozen packages of cigarettes remained scattered on the floor behind the counter. “Then he grabbed the money and ran.”
They counted the cash, a little over $200. “You’re lucky,” she said to Dog. “You’re under the felony threshold. But you assaulted Mr. Sharkar. He’s within his rights to press charges against you.”
Dog hung his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I don’t understand,” he said. “I didn’t use no gun or nothing.”
“You think that makes it all right?” Val shook her head. “What were you thinking, Dog?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I never done this before.” He scraped his toe on the floor. “I’m just trying to make Deacon.”
“Deacon?” Val lifted his chin and met his eyes, read the fear and confusion there. His meaning dawned on her. “It’s a rank, right? In The Disciples?”
Dog nodded and sniffled.
“It’s part of your initiation?” she asked in a soft voice.
Dog nodded again. “Gotta make a grand against The Man.”
She exchanged glances with Taufiq. “Does Mr. Sharkar look like The Man to you?”
Dog looked at Taufiq and toed the floor again. “I shouldn’a told you that. Pope gonna kill me.”
