Everyone's Dirty Little Secrets (9 page)

BOOK: Everyone's Dirty Little Secrets
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Jaime is cunning, though.

 

Siobhan knows how women can hone in on a man’s weakness and stick the dagger right in the bull’s eye without blinking.

 

Siobhan loves Jaime.  She loves
Jaime because Jaime is a younger version of
her
self
.  She sees herself in every curve Jaime thrus
ts in front of a man, remembers when she
wielded that same power.

 

Siobhan still wields that power, she knows, but she’s wiser.  She uses it, of course, but in the end, all she wants now is Dodge to stick around and make her life fun.

 

But Siobhan is no fool.  She knows Jaime sees Dodge as a tool she can manipulate.  It’s no secret what Jaime wants.  Siobhan wouldn’t like her if she didn’t have that ambition, if she didn’t see something of herself in Jaime.

 

But it doesn’t change the fact.

 

Jaime needs to back the fuck off.

 


Hey
,” she says, as Jaime wal
ks into the suite, calling her into the
office.

 

“Yes?” Jaime says, all sweetness.

 

“Where have you been?  It’s almost two.”

 

“I took a late lunch,” Jaime says, coughing up that beautiful smile of hers.

 

“No,” Siobhan objects.  “You took a long lunch.”

 

Jaime is too smart to lie twice.

 

“I’m sorry, Siobhan,” she says.  “I didn’t think you’d be back so quickly.  And I took advantage.”

 

“Jaime,” Siobhan snaps.  “I need to be able to trust you.”

 

“I know,” Jaime says.

 

Siobhan can see the fear in her.

 

“And, especially, I need to be able to trust you around my husband.”

 

Jaime doesn’t blink.

 

Siobhan takes this as a good sign.

 

“Siobhan,” she protests.  “I
would never … I love Dodge -
I mean
, like a father, though.
Or maybe brother’s a better word.
An uncle or a friend … h
e would never …”

 

Siobhan sighs.

 

She won’t let on how happy she is to hear this.

 

“Have you heard from Dodge latel
y?” she asks.

 

Jaime looks relieved too.

 

It’s not a pretty conversation for either of them.

 

But Siobhan doesn’t avoid ugly conversations.

 

That’s
how she runs things.

 

That’s why she runs things.

 

“Oh,” Jaime pauses.  “Um, he’s not coming in,” she says.  “He said he had some big break on his research?”

 

“OK,” Siobhan says, dismissing Jaime. 

 

But as Jaime turns away, she adds, “
Hey
.”

 

Jaime looks back.

 


I will f
ire your ass so fast if you mess
with my husband in any way.”

 

“I know,” Jaime answers, walking quietly away.

 

Siobhan feels much better.  She is glad that is out of the way.

 

She picks up the phone to call Dodge.

 

She fully plans on giving him hell.

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Dodge
decides not to answer his phone
, letting it buzz away in his pocket.  There is no way he can deal with Siobhan right now.  There is
-
number one
-
the issue of w
hat he witnessed
her doing
this afternoon
.
  He’s still livid.  And terrified.  There is - number two -
the issue that he is supposed to be
there to collect an assignment
he has no intention of taking
, which will anger her - and terrify him even more.

 

He doesn’t mind working for a living; he doesn’t expect everything to be handed to him.  He
was starting a career at one point, wanted to do investigative journalims
.

 

Instead he uses
his skills to impugn the enemies of Siobhan’s clients.

 

Guys like Dressler.

 

His work makes
her a lot of money.

 

The big paychec
ks all come from the dirty work, as a matter of fact.

 

Dodge is scared, no two ways about it.  He feels the end is about to come crashing down around him.  Money cut off, divorce, joblessness, homelessness, lovelessness.  Lifelessness.  His heart pounds as he accelerates through town.

 

His phone beeps in his pocket.  Siobhan has l
eft a message, he is sure.  He’
s afraid even to listen to it.  He wants to call Jaime, to get an inside scoop on what Siobhan is thinking.  He can’t call her; if Siobhan answers, or is with Jaime when he calls,
he’ll
be busted.  Siobhan could see his number and wonder why he’s calling Jaime, and not her cell.

 

Dodge speeds at a solid clip through traffic.  The driving relaxes him, forces him to pay attention to the road.  He weaves and shoots around a car, crosses yellow lines.  It feels good, reminds him he doesn’t have to d
rive in straight lines -
that this whole thing doesn’t have to go one way.

 

There are two ways about this.  There are infinite ways about this.  Maybe the question is will he let this happen to him, or will he make something happen.  What he wants.  When he thinks about what he wants,
he thinks about Jaime, on the merry-go-round - about
keep
ing that situation still,
not le
t
ting
it go where it propels
itself. 

 

Conclusions are not inevitable.

 

The facts are not in.  The day is not over.

 

Dodge realizes he has
to go see Siobhan, has to take the assignment.  If he doesn’t, he’s tempting fate.  Siobhan doesn’t know he knows.  He can be quiet for a while, he can watch.  Maybe he can live with it even.  Maybe he can have everything he wants too.  Maybe nothing has to change.

 

On a dime, as Dodge sees an opening in traffic, he slams on the brakes and cranks the wheel, using an intersection to give him space to whip an abrupt u-turn.  He can’t get to the office fast enough.  No speeding away from this one. 

 

He is greeted almost immediately with flashing lights.

 

Sheriff Broonzy.

 

Dodge contemplates a car chase.

 

He pulls over.

 

“Miss-ter Dahdge,” Broonzy announces, sticking his face in the window, tapping the top of Dodge’s car.  He over
-
pronounces the name, relishes every syllable. 

 

“Sheriff,” Dodge says, rolling his head back on his seat, angling his eyes up to look at Broonzy, impatient.

 

“Seen you up in the helicopter earlier today,” Broonzy tells him.

 

“Not sure how you could have seen me, exactly
,” Dodge says, “through the roof
of your car.”

 

“I know it was you,” Broonzy says.  “Cause you were following cop cars.”

 

“Wasn’t doing anything wrong,” Dodge tells him.

 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to prove,” Broonzy says, “but you ain’t going to do yourself no good.  Troopers don’t like it.  They want to say you had something to do with that accident on the Thruway today.”

 

“They want to,” Dodge tells him, “but they can’t, because they know it’s stupid as all hell.”

 

“You think you’re a lot smarter than everybody else,” Broonzy snaps, “but I wonder just what you’d be without all your wife’s money, and her bailing your ass out all the time.  Don’t know how you haven’t fucked that one up yet.”

 

Dodge’s stomach sinks. 
He has, pretty much.

 

He’s not going to give Broonzy that satisfaction, though.

 

“Must be I got something the rest of you assholes round here don’t,” Dodge snaps back.

 

He can see Broonzy getting angry, knows it isn’t smart to rile
the sheriff
up.

 

Though he probably won’t be sheriff too much longer.  He may
have kept his transgressions secret – except from Dodge, and Dressler, of course -
but no one expects him to make it through the next election.

 

Broonzy blames this on Dodge.  But he sho
uld blame Dressler. 

 

Or himself, really.

 

Don’t
shoot the messenger.

 

The dirty work always brings the big paychecks.

 

“You keep it up, Dodge, see where it gets you.”

 


Not doing any
thing illegal,” Dodge assures him.

 

“Maybe not in that helicopter,” Broonzy says, standing up straight, adjusting his hat.  “But down here you are.  So you just sit still for a minute.”

 

Dodge drums his fingers on the steering wheel as Broonzy heads back to his car.  He wants to catch Siobhan at the office, realizing it’s the best chance he has at saving everything.  The afternoon is slipping away.

 

“I only wished I could really nail you for something,” Broonzy tells him as he hands Dodge the ticket.  “So watch your back.”

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