An Inconvenient Truth
A short story by Marta Stephens
Author of the Sam Harper Crime Mystery Series
© Marta Stephens 2009 all rights reserved
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Thanks to the Scotch Joe planted in front of him, the evening at the Pig
and Whistle held no prospects except to forget. This was the only break
in Sam Harper’s ten-hour day. Soon, he’d get up and do it again. He’d
continue to scour the streets for leads on the Raymond Anthony murder.
If he was lucky, they’d produce some viable evidence.
As it was, ballistics hadn’t matched the bullet taken from the victim’s
brain to any known registered weapons and Anthony’s prints and bodily
fluids were the only ones found at the scene. A week into the case,
still no leads. It seemed the odds on a swift arrest weren’t stacked in
Harper’s favor. The exceptionally clean shot through the temple sparked
unrest among the other detectives. The guys tossed several possible
scenarios around, but the one that kept ripping through Harper’s mind
was the chance they were dealing with a professional hit man. If that
were the case, the usual breadcrumbs marking a path to the killer’s
identity would be non-existing.
Harper motioned to Joe with his glass for a refill. After a minute, the
bartender returned with two.
“There you go. I’ll put ’em on your tab.”
Joe read his mind. Harper knocked the next one back then stared into his
half empty glass, swished the Scotch through the ice and waited for the
red-labeled concoction to work its magic.
At happy hour, the Pig and Whistle was dotted with regulars, now at nine
p.m. he and a handful of patrons had the place to themselves. All eyes
were on the flat screen TV at the end of the bar watching the Celtics
lose to the Knicks by a measly five points. Harper didn’t care who won.
It was a temporary distraction meant to work with the booze and help him
relax. A few more of these, he thought, and I’ll be there.
That’s what he was thinking when he heard Jennie’s voice.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
He drew in a breath and slowly glanced over his shoulder. Jennifer Blake
had etched herself into his heart two months before, then vanished as
abruptly as she entered his life.
“Mind if I sit down?” she asked.
Harper lowered and raised his glance. He sensed what was coming. It
wasn’t where he wanted to be; not here, not now. Jennie was all he’d
thought of for weeks. Every provocative inch of her body was seared into
his thoughts. Part of him wanted to pull her close, kiss her as if it
were their first and pretend she had never left. That was at the heart
of his being, but his logic demanded answers and now. “I called you.
Several times.”
“I want to explain,” she said. “Can we talk?”
“Skip the apologies, Jen. They don’t suite you.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew the truth.”
“I’m listening.” For once he’d like nothing more than an honest
statement but something in her voice put him on edge. Harper ordered a
glass of Chablis for her, grabbed his drink, and led her to one of the
small tables near the back. He watched every move she made; the way she
slipped off her coat, how she brushed her bangs from her eyes.
Everything about her was all too familiar, especially her eyes—he’d
never forget their spark or the intimacies that had led them here to
this minute. “Well?”
“I was on a special assignment for the Chandler Times.”
“Come on, Jen. It’s me. You can do better than that.”
She stared at him for a second before breaking her silenced. “I didn’t
have a choice in the matter.”
“Since when?” Where was that playfulness in her tone or that staunch
determination that had captivated him the minute they met? Jennifer
Blake didn’t have a submissive cell in her body. Did she really expect
him to buy the line that her editor, Brian Taylor, forced her to go
against her will? The Jennie he knew wouldn’t let him. On the other
hand, Jennie wasn’t beyond working an angle. “So which is it? Are you
after another exclusive or did you step in a pile of trouble?”
“Neither.”
“Good. I’m fresh out of favors.”
“It’s the truth,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “Foolish me for
thinking you’d appreciate the challenges of my job.”
“I can live with the demands of your career, but you left without a
word, no warning, nothing. Three weeks ago, I came home after work—you
didn’t. I was crazy with worry; checked the hospital, the morgue,
missing persons. You weren’t listed anywhere, just gone—vanished. What
the hell was I suppose to think? You could have called.”
“There was no time.”
“Bull.”
“I didn’t want…” She choked on the words. “I didn’t know about the
assignment until Brian handed me the plane tickets that morning.”
“Two seconds. That’s all it would have taken. I’m on your speed dial, at
least I was.”
“I couldn’t. I was under strict orders to keep my location confidential.
Brian was worried that if the calls were traced, it would have blown my
cover and jeopardized our chance for an inside story.”
Harper narrowed
his eyes and leaned forward. “What hell did he send you to?”
“Please … don’t ask.”
“Why not?”
“It’s still sensitive information,” she said.
An uneasy silence seemed to suck the air out of the room.
“Then why'd you bother to come here?” he asked.
“Because I wanted to tell you what happened.”
“Cut the charades, Blake. You haven’t told me a damn thing more than
what I already know. You left—end of story.”
Jennie took a sip of her wine and looked away. Harper didn’t need to see
her face to know she was checking her options.
“I was investigating a drug ring in Florida.”
“Christ, I know the scum that’s out on the streets. You could have been
killed.”
“I wasn’t. Besides, it was a huge exclusive for us.”
“Right, the story. Now you’re back and what? You want to pretend none of
this happened? Goddamn it, you could have been wasted and no one would
have known to ask. And what’s so damn important about Florida? We have
plenty of drug related stories right here in Chandler.”
“It’s linked to a high-level state official,” she said. “That’s all I
can tell you. The story will break in a couple of days.”
“What the hell were you thinking? I’ve heard you say no before. That
would’ve been a great time to voice it.”
“And lose my job?” She shook her head. “It’s okay for you to risk your
life, but when I—”
“Don’t even go there. I’m trained to take risks.”
“Some things never change, do they?” She pushed back her chair and
grabbed her coat.
“Where’re you going?” Harper shot around in his chair in time to see her
rush out of the pub. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He jerked his coat
off the back of his chair, yanked the door open, and stood on the
snow-cover sidewalk. A glance in one direction made him turn and run in
the other. She was only a few yards away. “Jennie, stop! Where’re you
going?”
“You forgot to yell, Freeze, Detective.”
He raced to reach for her arm and made her stop. “This's your answer to
everything, isn’t it? You disappear, come back, dangle a carrot in front
of my nose, and take off? Think again.”
“Sam, what do you want?" she asked, blinking away the tears that welled
in her eyes. "I tried, but there’s no talking with you.”
She was wrong. His thoughts and emotions were playing war, twisting the
words he wanted to say and leaving them in a tangled mess somewhere
between the pit of his gut and a brain that wasn’t connecting with his
speech. “I’m not the one who left. I deserve some answers.”
“Then you should have the courtesy to hear me out! I told you what I
could. Believe me, don’t believe. It won’t change the facts.” Jennie
wiggled from his grasp and slipped away.
He cursed under his breath, rubbed a hand over his mouth then yelled
again, “Jennie, wait. I didn’t mean it.”
“That’s the problem, Sam, you never do.” She took a few more steps then
stopped. “Yeah, you’re a cop and you, of all people, should know it
isn’t a perfect world. Things won’t always go your way, you’re not going
to get calls when you expect them, but damn it, the least you could do
is trust that maybe, just maybe someone else’s life is a tad more
complicated than yours!”
“Trust? Hell, I didn’t know what happened. I called Brian—”
“And he told you he didn’t know where I was, right?”
“Yeah. Talked with your neighbors too. No one’s seen or heard from you.
What was I supposed to think? For all I knew you skipped town with
another guy.”
“Another …? You don’t get it, do you?”
“Evidently not.”
“I’m in love with you. There, it’s out.” She paced back and forth then
stomped a foot and held her ground. “Do you think I wanted to leave the
way I did? Do you have any idea how many times I reached for the phone
fully aware that I shouldn’t? How much it hurt not to be with
you—wondering what you were thinking—knowing the next time we’d meet
you’d react exactly like this?”
It wasn’t the what of the situation, but the how and
her inability to give him details that sent him into a rage. But even
the brilliant Jennifer Blake didn’t have what it took to make this one
up and bluff her way through it. She was, however, one of the few people
who could make him feel like an ass and get away with it. “I’m sorry.
Jennie, I’m…”
Had they stood in the frigid air looking into each other eyes for a
minute or was it five? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t the cold he felt or
the reason for his embrace. All he wanted to do was soak in her being
and prayed she wouldn’t resist.
“It’s been like a bad dream,” he whispered. “The one where someone dies
and you go through all the emotions of loss. Then you wake up in a sweat
and realize how damn lucky you are because nothing has changed and you
never, ever want to go back there again.” He kissed her cheek. “I woke
up, Jen. Back there. You scared the hell out of me.”
“Ever?” she asked.
He cupped his hands around her face and leaned in for kissed. “Only if I
can I hold you to it.”
“Hold me to what?”
Harper glanced away for only a second. “You know … what you said a
minute ago.”
“Spit it out, Harper. It’s not like you to be at a loss for words.”
“That you care.”
“I’ll always love you.” She pressed her lips to his. “Take it as a
threat or a promise.”
Jennie was the only person who could send him on an emotional
rollercoaster ride and make him feel grateful for it. She was back in
full form. They were as different as the jobs they had married. He’d
concede he was a skeptic—a left over tick from his work, but Jennie was
exasperating at times. Still he needed her by his side to keep him in
check, to remind him there was more to life than the scumbags he chased
for a living.
“What do you say we get out of the cold?” he asked.
“My car is right here.” Jennie reached into her pocket for the keys.
“I’ll meet you at your place.”
“Not tonight.” He took her by the hand and walked her toward his jeep.
“It’s late and I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
The End