ONE SMALL VICTORY Page 5

  When the front bells clattered, Jenny glanced at her watch, surprised to see that she’d been lost in that reverie for almost a half-hour. She must have had some kind of guilty expression because Mitchell laughed at her. "You look like Jeffrey when I catch him taking the last Oreo."

  ~*~

  The afternoon was so perfect, Jenny wished she could bottle it and save it for the heart of the winter. A light breeze chased gold and brown leaves down the sidewalk and the sun rendered a stand of yellow mums so spectacular the sight almost took her breath away. She was glad that Mitchell had literally pushed her out the door and told her to, “Go smell the leaves.”

  Yet a part of her that was still melancholy ached with the knowledge that Michael would never see a glorious day like this again. She wished it wasn’t this way. That everything wasn’t measured by loss. Will there ever be a day that I won’t think of something in terms of Michael?

  She rounded the corner and saw the high school down at the end of the block, kids streaming out the front doors like horses being turned out of a stable. When she realized she was looking for Michael, she forced herself to repeat mentally, “He isn’t here.”

  Watching a small group of boys break off from the crowd, Jenny paused and turned to follow them with her gaze as they approached two older boys. Something in their manner held her curiosity as they paused briefly. She wasn't sure, but it looked like one of the older boys passed something to one of the others.

  “Mom! What’re you doing here?”

  Jenny turned to see Scott. She put a hand to her chest to see if her heart was actually pressing through her breastbone. “You scared me to death.”

  “That answer is non-responsive.”

  She had to turn her face to hide the smile. He was always so good at turning her parenting techniques back on her.

  “I thought I’d walk you home.”

  “Mother!”

  “Okay, I’ll stay behind you. Nobody has to know.”

  He shrugged and started to move down the sidewalk. Jenny touched his arm. “Who are those guys?”

  “What guys?”

  “There.” She pointed to the small cluster of kids. ”Those two bigger kids don’t look like students.”

  Scott grabbed her elbow and tried to propel her along. “You don’t want to know.”

  “But I do.” She pulled out of his grasp and stood still. He took a few steps away, then turned back. The look on his face made it obvious that the only reason he was stopping was to avoid the embarrassment of her calling after him.

  “Okay.” He shifted his book-bag and tugged at his denim jacket, then glanced quickly around. “They’re dealers.”

  “What? Like in drugs?”

  Scott grabbed her arm again. “Why don’t you shout it? I’m not sure they heard you.”

  “Don’t get smart.” Jenny tried to pull out of his grasp, but he held her tightly and forced her to match his steps.

  “Let’s go,” he said. “You can smack me when we get home.”

  She shot another look over her shoulder as Scott pulled her along. The men were watching and a shudder passed through her, caused by an emotion she couldn’t quite put a name to. Revulsion? Apprehension? Both?

  She leaned closer to her son. “Does this go on all the time?”

  “Only on school days.”

  That comment stopped her so abruptly he lost the hold he had on her arm. “This is routine? Why don’t the police do something?”

  “They try. Patrols come by a lot. But they have a good early-warning system?”

  “I’m lost. Who has a warning system?”

  Mom. This isn’t the time to make you street smart. Let’s go home.”

  “Do you ever...?”

  His look could have withered weeds.

  “They say the parents are the last to know.”

  Scott glanced away. “Is that what they told you about Michael?”

  “This isn’t about Michael. It’s about you.” Jenny tugged on his sleeve. “I know it’s hard to resist all this. The pressure. And I suspect that Michael tried it with Brad. So I just want to be sure about you.”

  “I haven’t. I won’t. Ever.” He held eye-contact and for a moment his stance was so much like Michael’s when he’d been making a point, Jenny was afraid she’d lose it right there in the middle of the street.

  She took a breath to steady herself. “Be careful of absolutes. They tend to come back and bite you in the ass.”

  The touch of humor worked. Strength returned to her knees, and the tightness around Scott’s mouth eased into a brief smile. “I’m pretty safe on this one,” he said.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “I want to join this task force.” Jenny dropped the newspaper on top of an open folder on Steve’s desk.

  “Wha—”

  “This.” Jenny pointed to a headline CITY LAUNCHES DRUG TASK FORCE.

  Steve glanced at the paper then raised his eyes to meet hers. They appeared to burn with intensity. “You can’t”

  “Why not? Aren’t the police always complaining about lack of cooperation from the public?”

  Steve regarded her, noting the defiant tilt of her chin. “This isn’t what we’re looking for.”

  “I’ve been watching them for two weeks.” Jenny threw a notebook down on top of the paper. It opened to reveal a page dotted with scribbles of numbers and notations. “They’re out there like the fuckin’ ice-cream man.”

  Jenny didn’t realize how her voice had risen until Trudy popped her head in. “You okay in here, Steve?”

  He held Jenny’s gaze. “We okay?”

  She released a deep breath and nodded. He waved the other woman off and motioned to a chair. After Jenny perched on the edge of it, he rocked back in his and regarded her. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

  “No.” She let a smile touch the corner of her mouth.

  The smile looked good, and that realization startled him. Not that he was immune to a pretty woman, but this...

  “Civilians have no place in this kind of operation.” He tapped the news story with the tip of his pencil.

  “I’m not just any civilian. I’m a woman with a great deal of emotion-driven energy. You ever see what a bit of anxiety can do when it comes to cleaning a house?”

  He leaned back in his chair and studied her. Jenny wasn’t sure if he was considering her request or trying to sort out her example. Finally, he sighed. “I hardly think—”

  “Are you the final authority, or is there someone else I can talk to?”

  The interruption seemed to rattle him and he glanced around quickly as if looking for backup. When he faced her again he tapped his cheek with the end of his pen. “You’re not going away, are you?”

  “No.” Again she allowed a small smile.

  Steve sighed and stood up. “Come on.”

  Grabbing her notebook and the newspaper, Jenny followed him out of the office. They went down the hall and paused in front of a closed door. Steve knocked, then opened it when a voice inside said, “Yo.”

  The Hispanic man behind a large, pristine desk looked at Steve, then at Jenny, then back to Steve. He raised one bushy eyebrow in question.

  “Mrs. Jasik, this is Chief Gonzales.”

  “It’s Ms. Jasik.” She stepped forward and offered a hand. “But you can call me Jenny.”

  Gonzales sent another questioning look around her, and she turned to see Steve leaning against the wall with an impassive expression. He spoke to the Chief with a brief nod in her direction. “Ms. Jasik is the one who lost her son in that accident a while back.”

  “Oh.” Gonzales spoke softly and gave her a look that she interpreted as sympathetic. “My sincere condolences.”

  “Thank you.”

  He continued to look at her as if waiting for her to get to the point of this impromptu meeting.

  “She wants to join the new Drug Task Force.” Steve said.

  “Oh.” This time the intonation was different, and
Gonzales wiped at his stubble of beard.

  “I told her we don’t use civilians,” Steve continued.

  “That’s right.”

  In the face of his steady gaze, a wave of uncertainty washed over Jenny. What the hell did she think she was doing? Extreme frustration had driven her to the station this morning, but did she really think they’d accept her. It wasn’t like she was brimming with qualifications. A florist? A mother? A woman?

  But even as the mental debate raged, Jenny’s heart told her she couldn’t back off without a bit of a fight. Scrapping was second nature to her. Anyone who wondered just had to ask Ralph. For all his faults, she was big enough to admit that she didn’t always make it easy to live with her.

  “This is highly unorthodox,” Gonzales said.

  Jenny resisted the urge to say, “Sure. Sorry I bothered you.” She forced herself not to fidget under the force of his gaze.

  Gonzales leaned back and cradled his head in his hands. “What makes you think you can do this?”

  “Determination.” It was the first and only thing that came to mind.

  “Determination’s good,” Steve said.

  “I was thinking in terms of practical experience,” Gonzales said. “Something that would catch my eye on a resume.”

  Jenny stifled a laugh. I can arrange a mean centerpiece.

  Gonzales released his hands and sat forward. He studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Tell you what. Pass the fitness test and I’ll consider your request.”

  Fitness test? A picture of Marine boot camp training flashed through her mind. How the hell could she pass a fitness test? Was this the moment she should say, ‘thank you very much’ and take her leave? “What exactly do I have to do?”

  The man seemed as surprised by her question as she was. “A modified form of our cadet requirements.”

  “Which are?”

  “Run a mile without passing out. Twenty-five sit-ups. Twenty-five push-ups. A few more things I can't recall. It’s been a while since I looked at the training manual.”

  Jenny kept her feet planted firmly in place despite her inclination to run like hell. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d done a sit-up. “How long do I have to get ready?”

  Gonzales seemed to consider her slight frame for a second longer than necessary. “Four weeks.”

  ~*~

  Driving home, Jenny's mind whirled with the effort of trying to sort out the complications she'd never considered before making that brash decision to storm the police station.

  Not the least of which was keeping everything a secret.

  Gonzales had explained that the only way they could make this happen-if she passed the physical challenge-was to run her as a confidential informant. That meant not telling anyone. "Not your kids. Not your mother. Not even your dog can know where you go or what you do."

  That had struck her as funny at the station, but now as she approached her driveway anxiety tore through her. Her whole relationship with the kids had been built on honesty. How could she lie to them? And hide things from her mother, or Carol? There was a good reason Jenny never played poker.

  After the car rolled to a stop in front of the house, Jenny killed the engine and sat for a moment. Through her open window she heard the chatter of a blue jay that was worrying a robin in the elm tree. As she watched the birds, she couldn’t help but notice that the branches of the tree dipped dangerously close to the roof. Pretty soon they’d be scraping across the shingles. Something else to fix. Maybe she should just forget this nonsense and take care of her house. Take care of the family that she had left. Forget the drugs and forget-

  No. She couldn’t just forget. Otherwise there would be no way to make any sense of Michael’s death. And somehow there was this burning need for reason, for order, for retribution.

  ~*~

  The pain in her side finally brought Jenny to a halt and she bent over to get her breath. Good thing she’d toted deliveries around for all these years. No upper-arm wobble for her. But the stamina could use work. She jogged a few blocks and broke out in a huff.

  Surprisingly, Carol had outdistanced her. Who would’ve thought short and a little pudgy would have beat skinny as a rail?

  Her friend now came back with a broad grin. “I still have it.”

  “What?”

  “How quickly you forget. High School track? Who beat you then?”

  “Bite me.” Jenny headed down the street at a slow lope that Carol easily matched.

  “Tell me again why we’re doing this?”

  “So we can enjoy our old age together.”

  “Who says I want to spend it with you?”

  Jenny managed a semblance of a laugh in between huffs. That had been an on-going joke with them for years. Carol lost her husband to cancer two years after Ralph had run off. Neither of them had been able to decide which loss was worse; finally deciding that it didn’t have to be a contest. But what they both agreed on was a real reluctance to make that kind of emotional commitment again. Maybe it was enough to have one good friend and plenty of extended family to love and be loved by.

  It had seemed to be a good philosophy until some other basic human needs, the kind that could only be met by someone of the opposite sex, had clamored for attention.

  While Jenny had been too busy with kids and eking out survival to tend to those needs, Carol had the means and the opportunity to seek out someone new. Six months ago George had entered her life; complete with the family she and Barry had never been able to have. Granted, they were only every-other-weekend kids, but it was better than the nothing Carol had had previously. And it looked like the relationship was going to last.

  Jenny was happy for her friend. Glad to see the dreamy smiles and hear the contented sighs when she talked about George and his two kids. But a little part of her couldn’t help but be envious. Oh, that old green snake.

  She shook off the thoughts and coaxed her trembling leg muscles into action. She only had a week left. No time for loafing.

  ~*~

  “Did you see the morning paper?” Mitchell asked as Jenny walked in the door.

  “No.” She hung up her coat and joined him behind the counter where he had the local rag spread out.

  The headline he pointed out read: SECOND ACCIDENT VICTIM DIES. It took a moment for Jenny to realize the story referred to Michael’s accident.

  “Nineteen-year-old Bradley Brennan died at...” The story began, and that’s as far as Jenny got before her eyes blurred and her chest constricted.

  She took a deep breath and the tightness eased.

  “I’m sorry,” Mitchell said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

  “That’s okay.” Jenny took another deep breath and forced a small smile. “I needed to know.”

  “Were they close?”

  “Yes. For a while. I’m not sure about just before...” Even after all these weeks, she still had trouble with some of the words. And she was currently having trouble with some of her feelings. The first she recognized was sadness that another boy had died, but a little glimmer of satisfaction snuck up out of nowhere and made her want to throw up. How could she be so callous? His death wouldn’t give Michael life.

  She remembered her initial sense of injustice that Brad had lived and her son hadn’t, but she was certain she was the only one who felt that way. Even Scott in the midst of the worst of his anger hadn’t voiced that vile thought.

  “The funeral’s day after tomorrow,” Mitchell said, and Jenny welcomed his intrusion. “I could watch the store if you want to go.”

  She paused before responding, trying to determine if she could even face another funeral, then almost laughed when she remembered that she hadn’t exactly faced Michael’s. And the Brennan’s had been kind enough to make an appearance. Their presence in the far back of the church she could remember. She could at least be as gracious.

  “That would be nice,” she said.

  Mitchell nodded and started to turn awa
y. Jenny touched his arm. She’d been looking for just the right opportunity to talk to him. If she made the task force...no, make that when she made the task force, she’d need him to cover for her. “I might need you to hold the fort now and then over the next few weeks.”