Long Way

When I emerged from my bedroom the next morning, the house was completely empty. No Declan. No Shawn. And no Willa. Only the latter of the three concerned me.

I checked my appearance in the mirror in the hallway, then I stepped into the kitchen where I saw my back door was open. I walked over to the screen door and looked out, and saw Declan standing on my tiny back porch smoking a cigarette, and watching Willa wander around the back yard. I observed this for a minute.

Declan quit smoking when he became old enough to drink, then that became his biggest vice. Now he only smokes when something is really stressing him out.

I grabbed my purse and hung it on my shoulder, then stepped outside. Declan glanced up at me and blew smoke out of his mouth in a thin line before tossing his cigarette down on my black-top driveway.

"I need to quit that shit," he said to me quietly.

"I didn't know that you had started again." He shrugged. Willa came dancing up the steps and rubbed her body against my legs.

"So, why are you smoking again? Don't bother lying to me because you know that I know when you are." He grinned and looked down at Willa. Two years ago, he bought me Willa as a puppy for Christmas. He hid her in my parent's basement until all the presents were unwrapped, then he brought her up in a hat box.

"I don't know," he said. "Just things, ya know?"

"What kind of things?" He looked out towards the road then looked back at me for a second. Never making eye contact.

"I got involved in something I shouldn't have. I'm done with it now, but some people that I don't really want to see anything bad happen to are still in it, worse than I was. They don't seem to see anything wrong in what they're doing and they don't want out of it."

"Have you tried to talk them out of it?" I asked. It's obvious to me that he isn't going to tell me what he is talking about, so I don't press.

"Yeah, but they don't want to listen. You know how that is."

"I do," I said, nodding.

He looked at me, and reached out and touched my sweater at the neckline, feeling it between his fingers.

"I like this sweater," he said, pulling it away from my body and trying to sneak a peek at some boob. I shove his hand away.

"You sick freak," I shouted at him, making him laugh.

"You have great tits."

"You're disgusting."

"Yeah... You're right. I'm gonna go rub one out in the shower."

"You go do that," I snapped.

"I'll be thinking of you," he said as he stepped back in the house.

"Don't bother!"

I throw my hands up in the air and look down at Willa, who's looking at me with her ears perked up.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. He'll be gone soon though, I'm sure." I rub her ears and let her back in the house, pulling the door shut and heading off to work.

I drive Martin's Cayenne into the underground parking garage and fob my way into the elevator, and go up to the fifth floor. When I get to my office I see a large stack of paper work on my desk. Great. Happy Monday to me.

I sit down and glance through the files, most of which are employee files. Martin has some of them marked as special interest, so I go through those first. I take some notes on people that might seem a little suspicious, number one being Raphael Menendez. Menendez works on the fifth floor in the control room, and was off duty the nights off all the burglaries. Plus he has access to the code computer.

My stomach lets me know when it's lunch time, so I decide this is as good a time as any to interview Menendez.

I wander down to the break room and go to the fridge, finding an egg salad sandwich and a bottle of water. I see Menendez sitting by himself at a table, so I wander over to the table next to his. We are the only two occupying the break room, but I know that pretty soon people will start rolling in. Better get this going before people start getting weary of me.

I lean across the space separating Menendez and I, and tap him on his shoulder about five times. He barely glances at me, showing no expression. Yeesh.

"Do you have any extra napkins I could have? There were none up there." He hands me one napkin from his table. Still no expression.

"Oh my gosh, thank you. I don't know why there aren't any napkins up there. Someone must have taken them all. That, or Mary forgot to restock them, which I find kind of hard to believe. Mary never forgets anything," I said with a laugh. He again shows no expression at my rambling.

"Do you remember Mary ever forgetting to do something? Because in all my time here, I don't remember."

"Someone put you up to this. Who was it? Ramon? Hector?"

"No! Oh my gosh, no! I just needed a napkin, and was making polite conversation is all." He looks like he's taking that in. This guy needs a friggin' pill or something to lighten up.

I finish my sandwich and ball up the wrapper and toss it in the garbage, then I get up and grab a muffin off the counter, and head back to Martin's office.

I knock twice before entering, then I go in and sit in one of the two chairs sitting in front of Martin's desk, sighing. Martin glances up at me and almost rolls his eyes at my muffin. I see a granola bar on his desk and a piece of fruit.

"It's a healthy muffin!"

"Whatever you say. Do you have anything new for me?"

"Nada. I interviewed Menendez." He almost smiles.

"How did that go?"

"It didn't. Does he talk to anyone?"

"Only when necessary. Did you find anything out?"

"He's emotionally closed."

"That's not always a bad thing."

"The more I dig into this, the more I think that it's not an inside job."

"That would be a relief."

"I'm thinking maybe we need to look into people that you've either fired or not hired. Some techie guy that could figure out your codes without being here."

"That's nearly impossible."

"But not entirely."

"No, not entirely. But my people work to make sure that the chances of it are slim to none. And if it ever becomes slim we take care of that too."

"So I'll go through some employee files tomorrow and look for people that didn't make the cut, or who got fired."

"I'll have the files waiting for you when you get here." We both stand up and he walks around his desk to me, standing close enough that I can feel his body heat.

"What will I owe you for that?" I asked.

"Nothing. There is no charge for what we give each other. Not financially, or emotionally." He started to walk away from me, and I reached out and grabbed the back of his shirt to stop him.

"Wait." He stopped and turned to face me.

"This isn't a movie, this is my life. I need to know more about this no emotions thing."

"That's the way it has to be right now."

"And where are you going right now?"

"I have a surveillance job to do that involves this case we're working on. I can't have you involved, you understand that, it's not part of your job. You aren't going to grill me on this are you?" I let go of his shirt and smooth it out.

"I can't do this."

"You need to patch things up with Desoto."

"We're taking a break."

"Look, I'm being a nice guy right now because it suites me. But I'm an opportunist, and I'm attracted to you. I'll be back in your bed again if this break with Desoto lasts much longer. I can make you forget about Desoto, but that wouldn't do either of us any good." Yeeps. He walks past me then, and walks out the door, leaving me alone in his office.

The door opens again about thirty seconds later, and Martin comes back in.

"What did you forget?" I asked.

"Are you aware of your nephew's late night outings?" he asked me.

"Yeah. Is there anything I should be concerned about?"

"No, not yet. No bars or anything like that. I'll let you know if anything alarming pops up."

"Thank you." He leaves again, and I walk out a second later.

Ever since I started working here, I've been aware that Martin has a GPS on my car, tracking it in the control room just in case. All of his cars are monitored, just in case one of them is stolen. It makes me feel a little better that someone is watching out for where Shawn is going, since he won't tell me where he's at. One less thing on my mind.

Now I just a lead on these break-in's. I can tell it's wearing on Martin, and I feel bad about not being able to turn anything up for him. But hell, I'm just a desk girl. I'm not a fucking P.I.

I pack up my shit and leave my cubicle, and head back down to the parking garage and hop into Martin's car. I think about calling Sharon, or my parent's, but don't. I think about picking up food and taking it home to Declan and Shawn, but that seems way to relationship-y and domestic. So I drive home without calling anyone, and without any food.

When I pull in the driveway I see Declan's truck sitting there. Usually when he leaves he takes his truck to go live at his Dad's place. So I assume that he went and picked it up today. I'm not surprised to find him drinking a beer when I come in.

I didn't say anything to him as I walked into my bedroom to drop off my purse and change into jeans. He's in the same position when I come back out.

"'Sup?" I say to him. He shrugs and takes a pull from his beer.

"Where's Shawn?"

"At your parent's place having dinner." I nod.

"So you went out and bought beer, and your truck is sitting loudly and proudly in my driveway. What happened to laying low?" I asked.

"I was thinking after our conversation this morning, and I figured, fuck it. I'm done hiding. I have no reason to hide anymore. Well, except from Perelli, but that's an everyday thing, and if he wanted me bad enough he knows where I am."

"You still haven't paid Perelli back?"

"Nope." Another pull from the beer. I go to the fridge and get myself a beer. I could use it after my non productive day.

"So how did it go with your dad?" I asked. Another shrug.

"I don't have any black eyes, and my knuckles aren't all busted up. What does that tell you?"

"It sounds like a successful trip." He nods.

"Charlie is going off to college."

"Good for her," I said. Charlie is Declan's little sister. She always had a much better relationship with their dad than Declan. But of course, it's hard to have a good relationship when you're getting the piss kicked out of you every other second.

"They're having some going away party for her at the house. Family, and friends, and shit like that. Charlie somehow found our mom on the Internet and sent her an email to tell her about the party, and she said that she would come, so now Charlie's all excited and shit."

"What did your dad say about it?"

"He told her not to hold her breath."

"Your mom hasn't been known for her reliability."

"Yeah, no shit."

"Did you talk to Charlie?"

"No, she wasn't around." I nodded.

"I'm thinking about going to Mo's tomorrow and trying to get my job back," he said.

"Word around the neighborhood is he's back drinking again." Declan cut his eyes to me and we both paused for a second.

"I heard the same thing. That's another reason I was thinking about going over there. Someone has to keep an eye on him."

Mo, otherwise known as Uncle Mo to everyone in town, is a black man in his 60's who owns a garage in the old neighborhood where Declan grew up. Mo took a liking to Declan when he was a teenage street punk, and whenever Declan has been in jail or needed a place to go or a job, Mo would give him whatever he needed. But Mo also has a bit of a drinking problem. And when he drinks, he plays cards, and when he's drunk playing cards he ends up owing a lot of not so nice people money that he doesn't have. So Declan is quite protective of Mo, and always keeps an eye on things that concern him.

I plopped down on the couch beside him and we drank our beers in silence for awhile.

"So what was your day like?" he asked me after a few minutes.

"Non productive." he snorted.

"I'm gonna run some things by you that you have to promise not to talk to anyone about. Not Mo, not Charlie, not fucking Willa." He grins.

"I promise."

"Promise?"

"Do you want to pinky promise."

"Yes." We pinky promise.

"A bunch of Martin's accounts have been broken into. Each time the system is shut off for fifteen minutes, then turned back on."

"Someone has the codes?"

"Yes."

"The system was hacked?"

"No. The codes were changed after each break-in."

"Inside job?"

"The more and more I work on this, I'm thinking not. I'm leaning more towards some techie that we either didn't hire, or who got fired." He paused, contemplating this.

"Or someone else who wants to see Martin go down."

"Like who?"

"I don't know. He's not from here, so it's not like he's known in the neighborhood, but most people know who he is. Maybe someone saw him somewhere and wanted a piece of the action."

"You think this person is doing this for money? Like, they're trying to get money from Martin to go away?"

"Anythings possible." I take a sip of my beer and think about this.

"So if we look at it that way, it could be any Tom, Dick, or Harry on the street," I said.

"Pretty much."

"Great. I liked it better when I had a set group of people to focus on."

"I don't mean to make your job harder."

"You usually do, whether you mean it or not."