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#Post#: 3039--------------------------------------------------
Haunted by the Past - Chapter 35 - Production Value
DIR By: RampageSports
Date: April 21, 2016, 8:57 pm
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Author's Note: The Spenser, Hawk, Susan Silverman, Vinnie Morris
and Ives characters belong to mystery novelist Robert B. Parker.
Mr. Parker is one of my favorite authors, and his work is a
major influence on the the way I write. Whether I even come
close to mimicking his style is open to considerable debate, but
I have chosen to use his characters in this story as something
of an homage. My goal is to handle them as lightly as possible
and to maintain them as Mr. Parker created them. Any failure on
that front is completely my own.
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Haunted by the Past - Chapter 35 - Production Value
Twilight was coming on fast as we left, and I had a strong
desire to get out of the city before darkness settled in.
Danni was quiet and distant as we drove north along Kennedy
Boulevard. I fought my way through the 495 interchange — which
was clearly designed by a suicidal maniac — and kept my mouth
shut until I had us back on the Turnpike.
Once we were established on the road home, I stole a glance at
my passenger and found her absently watching the world go by
through the side window.
"Looks like the snow could start any minute," I said.
"Yeah," she said.
And that was the end of that conversation.
I waited a few minutes, then tried again.
"Think they'll ever finish that Xanadu thing?" I asked, nodding
as we passed a sign for the Meadowlands Sports Complex.
"Probably not," she said.
More silence followed, and that was a bad thing. This was a
topic that most around here could talk about for hours, if only
to get a few good laughs out of it.
Xanadu is the proposed shopping and entertainment destination
that's supposed to restore the Meadowlands to glory. With horse
racing falling out of favor and the IZOD Center permanently
closed, MetLife Stadium is the only attraction left that really
draws a crowd, and it's only in regular use sixteen Sundays a
year.
Of course, if my Jets ever make a real playoff run, that might
generate some bonus revenue.
Yeah, I know. Chances are better that a cadre of leprechauns
will ride up to my front door on a unicorn, carrying a pot of
gold just for me. But a girl can dream.
Anyway, the idea of bringing in something new sounds great. The
trouble is that the Meadowlands is operated by the state. Thus,
there is no hope the project will ever work out the way it's
supposed to.
Construction began in September of 2004, and the site was
supposed to open two years later. In the eleven years that have
passed since, nothing even remotely useful has been built. I
mean, there's a bunch of sh*t there, but none of it is to the
point where anyone can do anything with it. Bankruptcy and
comedic mismanagement have seen the project passed from one firm
to another over the years, but the only visible progress is that
the name has changed. It's now called The American Dream, if
you can believe that. It's currently expected to be completed
in late 2017, and I, for one, am not holding my breath.
So, suffice it to say, this is a subject that always offers
plenty to talk about. The talking may eventually devolve into
yelling, screaming and throwing things, but the topic does not
usually generate the kind of silence I was getting from Danni.
"Visit Meghan next?" I asked, taking another shot.
"That sounds good," she said.
Something about that subject put a little strength in her voice,
but the conversation still ended there.
I decided it was going to have to stay that way until we could
hash this out, and we finished the forty-five minute drive with
precious little being said. We did, however, stop to grab a
pizza to bring with us.
When we arrived at the hospital, I locked the doors before Danni
got her hand on the handle.
"Am I being held prisoner?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "Until I hear you say you didn't do anything
wrong."
That earned me a cynical snort, and then more silence as she
went back to looking out the window.
Rather than press, I waited her out. Much to my own surprise,
the technique worked.
"I wouldn't have stopped," she said to the window.
I waited some more because there was nothing for me to say. We
both knew she was right.
"He didn't deserve that," she said.
"Ha!" I blurted out. "You're insane."
She turned just enough to glance at me sideways, and the sly
look told me there was room for me to get inside the shell she
had wrapped herself in.
"There's no way I'm gonna let you wallow in this," I said.
"He's a sick, twisted freak, who preyed on young women for
years. He used them, Danni. They came to him with dreams, and
he took everything from them. Their money. Their bodies.
Their souls. So f*ck him. He deserved every ounce of what he
got and then some. You were one of the lucky ones. You got
over it, and you succeeded. And you should be proud of yourself
for standing up for the others."
"I didn't stand up for anyone," she said. "I went there for
revenge."
"And what's so wrong with that?"
"I didn't think anything was wrong with it. But I wasn't
planning on killing him."
"You didn't."
"I was going to."
"No, you weren't."
"Oh, yes I was," she said. "You were there. You saw me. I was
never going to stop."
"That's right, I was there," I said, "and I would never have let
you kill him."
"That's not the same thing," she said.
"As what?" I said. "Controlling yourself? You thought that was
your responsibility? You thought I expected you to do that?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't think I thought about this? That I thought about
what might happen? Think about who you're talking to, here.
Think about what I would do if I was in your place."
I watched the smile creep on to her face as she considered that
one.
"That's right," I said. "They'd be finding little pieces of
Dickie all over the state."
"I don't think so," she said. "You wouldn't have done that."
"The f*ck I wouldn't," I said. "I'd like to go back there and
do it, right now."
"Really?" she said incredulously. "Well, you had the chance.
Why didn't you?"
"I was there for you, not for him."
The statement caught her completely off-guard, and the effect it
had on her was shocking. She and I are pretty open and honest
with each other, but I had never seen her expression so plain...
her emotions so raw.
For just a fleeting second, I felt like I was peeking directly
into her soul, and it made me uncomfortable.
"Don't look at me like that," I said. "What he did to you...
there isn't even a word to describe it. You deserved the chance
to make him pay for it. I was only there to make sure it didn't
end up costing you something, too."
For a long time, she did nothing more than stare at me. Then,
when it looked like she was trying to say something, no words
came out. Finally, she cleared her throat, swallowed hard, then
simply nodded.
"Also, it's worth pointing out that you didn't lose it until you
saw how many women there were," I said.
I turned and looked at her so I could watch my next prediction
come true.
"You're gonna shrug that off," I said as she shrugged it off,
"and I won't push it. I'll just say it didn't surprise me, and
we'll leave it at that."
She didn't argue, which made me wonder if she was ill. But she
seemed to drift again before finding her voice.
"I've never felt like that," she said.
"Because you hold it back," I said. "No one should have to face
what he did to you, but you don't go for sympathy. You just
swallow it, because you've got it handled. It's just one more
thing you have to overcome. But it's not that easy. It eats
you up. It never gets handled. It just sits there, waiting so
you can come back and beat yourself up over it, again. Today,
you finally ripped the lid off, and it all came pouring out at
once."
I hadn't intended to start rambling like that. It just flowed,
and she called me on the reason.
"Which one of us are we talking about, here?" she asked.
I grinned at her.
"It's possible I may be able to relate," I said. "It's also
possible you were the one who held me together through this
thing with Powers."
She shrugged me off again.
"Now, I don't think you had to be so f*cking aggravating about
it..." I said.
"Can't help it," she smiled.
"I've noticed," I said.
Then, I nodded toward the hospital entrance and said, "C'mon.
Let's go see the real hero in all this."
The crowd around Meghan had thinned considerably now that it was
clear she would recover. There were still a few officers out in
the hall, but far fewer than there'd been the day before.
We made our way into the room, and found the patient looking
much improved.
"Well," she said, "look who's here. It's the assault team."
Danni and I shared a wild look.
"Yikes," I said.
Vince and Gavin were seated on opposite sides of Meghan. As
promised, neither was in uniform. We all exchanged nods as the
two of us stepped to the foot of the bed. Vince took the pizza,
and stacked it on top of the three that were already there.
"How you feelin'?" Danni asked Meghan.
"Great," she said hurriedly. Then she motioned to Gavin and
said, "Check the hall."
Brown got up and exchanged a few words with the officers in the
hallway.
"We're good," he said when he returned. "They'll let us know if
someone needs to come in."
Meghan nodded, then turned to Danni and I and said, "Start
talking."
"Okay," I said with a smile. "Well, it's looking like snow
tonight."
That earned me a hard look. One that made clear to me the
reasons Meghan Taylor was in charge of this little group.
"Alright, alright," I said, raising my hands in surrender, "but
we either start with yesterday morning, or there's no story."
She nodded grudgingly, and I started things off with the image
of Mr. Clean passing us on the bridge. Before long, the three
of us were filling in details... both for each other, and for
Gavin and Vince.
Clean had shot Meghan before she even had the chance to clear
her head from the crash. That sounded bad, but she credited
that moment with saving her life. Thinking her dead, Clean
moved on to assist Rat Boy, giving Meghan the time to recover
and get her bearings.
The way she said it, you'd think someone had punched her in the
stomach, rather than ripping five bullets across her body.
No big deal. I just needed a minute to catch my breath.
Once she got her wits about her, she was able to surprise Clean,
which is when she shot him in the leg. She seemed angry at
herself for not managing to put him down for good — like being
in a car accident, being shot at and having a bullet hole in her
arm didn't add up to an acceptable excuse.
I told her we'd let it slide. Especially after she threaded
that shot into Rat Boy's chest and saved our lives — a shot she
referred to as lucky.
Principle, selflessness, talent, heart, toughness and humility.
Meghan Taylor ticks all the boxes on the superhero requirements
list, as far as I'm concerned.
We eventually got to this morning's activities, and — after I
reconfirmed that not a word would ever leave that room — Danni
and I laid the whole thing bare. I was admittedly light on the
details of what I'd done to Powers, but it did me no good.
Everything I left out, Danni immediately filled in.
"Jesus," Gavin said when the story finished. "Remind me never
to p*ss you off."
I shrugged.
"I'm not very good at being angry."
"Actually," Meghan said, "it sounds like you're very good at
being angry."
"It's her best skill," Danni said.
"F*ck off," I replied.
"Well," Vince said conclusively, "I think it all worked out just
the way it should have."
There wasn't even a hint of disagreement about that.
We talked for a while longer, but it was late and Danni and I
were done. We all exchanged hugs and traded numbers, and
promised to keep in touch. It all sounded like the standard
crap you say at a moment like that, but it felt different.
Something told me this wasn't the last we were going to see of
each other.
Flakes were in the air when we got back outside, but the
pavement was still too warm for the snow to stick. Between the
weather and the hour there was no one on the roads, and the
drive to Danni's was quick and easy.
We'd agreed that I would pack only what I needed for now, with a
the complete extraction to follow tomorrow. So, before I knew
it, I was ready to go.
"This feels weird," I said as I stood beside the repacked
Subaru.
"I told you you were welcome to stay," she said. "It's not a
problem."
"No, you've put up with me long enough."
"I'm gonna have to put up with you again tomorrow, anyway."
"Better take advantage of this opportunity, then."
I whistled for Tramp, but he seemed reluctant to step outside.
I found that strange, since he's normally willing to suffer
broken bones in a mad sprint to the car when he thinks he's
going for a ride.
"C'mon, boy," I said.
He did a crazy spin in the doorway, but still refused to come
out.
"I don't think he wants to go," I said.
"I already told you..."
"I'm not going to let the dog run the show, Danni."
I called him again without result, then produced his leash from
my pocket and took a few steps in his direction. Realizing his
options were limited, he reluctantly came and sat next to me.
When I looked up, Winzig was in the door, looking pitiful and
forlorn.
The snow was picking up, and it glistened in Danni's hair as I
turned to say goodbye.
"I can't thank you enough for putting up with this," I said.
"It was no problem," she said. "Like you said, it was fun."
I smiled and nodded, but a strange feeling swept over me. For
some reason, this was starting to take on an emotional weight it
didn't deserve.
I mean, we were going to see each other the very next day.
"Look, I don't want to make a production out of this," I said.
"I'll see..."
"I might," she cut in.
I raised a confused eyebrow.
"What?"
"I think I might want to make a little bit of a production out
of it."
"Ooo-kay."
"What you said earlier. About being there for me. I kinda like
the way that felt."
"You've been there for me for weeks," I said. "You had to know
I'd be there for you. Not that I felt the need to pay you back.
It's just something we do."
"Yeah," she said. "That's kinda part of the production. I
think I'd like to have that more often."
"I... what?"
"What I mean is that... maybe I'd like it to be more permanent."
Danni and I have known each other for a long time. Sometimes,
it feels like we've known each other forever. I have never seen
her fumble around for words the way she was know.
"What the heck is wrong with you?" I asked. "Is the snow
seeping into your brain, or something?"
She took a deep breath and tried to reset herself.
"Danni," I said in a reassuring tone, "just say it."
"I want to, but, for some reason, I can't," she said. "So, I'm
going to do something now, and... well, I guess we'll see."
"Do what?"
She responded by closing the small amount of distance between
us, and kissing me hard on the mouth.
It was brief, but she meant business. And her meaning could not
be misconstrued.
She took a step back and watched me, looking for a response.
In hindsight, my standing there frozen like a statue probably
disappointed her, in that regard.
"Okay," she said after a few moments. "Maybe we'll talk about
this tomorrow."
She turned and walked slowly to the house, hooking her thumbs in
her jeans as she went. When she reached the door, she stopped
and turned back.
"Hawk was right," she said. "I do feel better."
Then, she went inside and left me staring stupidly at the door
as snowflakes pelted me in the face.
My mind spun — a thousand thoughts vying to to be heard, but
none of them getting any traction. I felt like everything I
knew and understood about my life had just been smashed to bits.
Then a strange idea vaulted to the fore.
This, I said to myself, is what Dorothy must have felt like when
she first stepped out into Oz.
It was the kind of silly, random thought that can only sneak
through at a moment like this, but it was appropriate enough to
stick.
I slowly turned and looked down at Tramp.
"What the hell do we do now, Toto?"
His response was to shake the snow off of himself, dance around
in a tight circle, then sit back where he was.
Unfortunately, that didn't help me figure anything out.
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Character Reference
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/x7gm9w22n/Richelle_100x120.jpg
Name: Richelle Winterfeld
Nickname(s):
Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/9av3z511b/Danni_100x120.jpg
Name: Danneel Harris
Nickname(s): Danni
Background: RSI stable leader, reigning DEF welterweight
champion
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/kmg56h1fj/ORourke_100x120.jpg
Name: Patrick O'Rourke
Nickname(s):
Background: Major with the New Jersey State Police, family
friend of Richelle's
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/bwegrvukf/Meghan_Taylor_100x120.jpg
Name: Meghan Taylor
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Detective, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/e0pn1hhfj/Gavin_Brown_100x120.jpg
Name: Gavin Brown
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/zdkkf918f/Vince_Jordan_100x120.jpg
Name: Vince Jordan
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/5ul2pzr7j/Tramp_100x120.jpg
Name: Tramp
Nickname(s):
Background: Richelle's dog
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/6rw3cls3j/Winzig_100x120.jpg
Name: Winzig
Nickname(s):
Background: Danni's dog
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