Piece Keeper (7 page)

“No need for thanks. That was an admirable thing you
did for Black. You didn’t have to.”

“No, not for the ice… Thank you for talking to
me.”

Teresa smiled sullenly.

He continued. “And I wasn’t just being a good guy
when I helped Black.”

Teresa brushed the hair from her face. “No?”

“No. I helped him for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah. I knew if he got hurt you would hurt.”

“James, there’s nothing going on between us.”

James cleared his throat. “I don’t know… you’re half
naked, she’s half naked… you, him, her,” he said motioning with his
hands. “Looks like a mini version of the playboy mansion around
here.”

“Ha, ha. Is that supposed to be funny?”

“I don’t know what it’s supposed to be. I don’t even
know what I’m doing here. I don’t know anything right now. I’m
sorry for how I behaved and I’m sorry for what happened to
you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Teresa I…”

“You what?” she asked looking up into his eyes.

He stared back looking as if he was on the brink of
tears. “I...nothing… I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

She lowered her head disappointedly and spoke in
almost a whisper. “I’d prefer if we talked now, but if you feel you
must go….then go.”

He paused with his back turned to her. He fought
back the tears and forced the lump in his throat back down. Taking
a breath he turned and faced her only to find that her back was now
to him. He wondered what was on her mind. He questioned whether
staying would be a good idea; if trying to patch something up with
a fractured woman he wanted so desperately in the home of her ex
with him and his new woman up stairs was really what he should do.
He approached Teresa and stood behind her placing his left hand on
the small of her back and sliding his right hand into hers. Their
fingers together and he smiled inwardly as the classic Spinner’s
song “It Takes a Fool” began playing in his head. If there was an
occasion more fitting than this for that song to be in his head he
couldn’t think of it. He silently followed behind as she led him
into the living room where they sat on the couch and talked until
they fell asleep.

***

The water in the tub almost reached the top as
Morena turned the faucet off, scooped a handful of bubbles, and
blew them in Black’s face. He smiled with bubbles now sitting on
his nose and mustache. The hot water felt good to him as he soaked
his sore body in the tub while watching her light the candles she
had placed around the bathroom. The mood music was the melodic
sounds of Kem. He was one of Black’s favorite artists.

After she was done lighting the candles Morena
turned off the bathroom light and knelt down on the floor next to
the tub. “How do you feel Cariño?” she asked as she wrung the
washcloth out over his chest.

He closed his eyes as the steaming hot water soothed
his aching flesh. “A whole lot better now, Baby Love.”

“Ayen Papi. Mami gonna take care of you, mi amor.”
She kissed his neck. “So what now, Cariño?”

“I won’t lie to you. It’s not going be easy. We have
no physical evidence. It’s just her word against theirs.”

“Will they at least stay in jail?”

“I doubt it. They’re probably already out.”

“That poor girl.”

“Thank you, baby. I appreciate what you’re doing for
Teresa.”

“Hmmm.”

“Really I do. You didn’t have to be so cool about
Teresa or give a damn at all about her situation.”

“Umm hmm.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her as she wrung
the washcloth out and let the water rain down onto his bald head.
His face scrunched in pain as the hot water hit the fresh sores on
the top of his skull.

“Lo siento, mi amor,” she whispered softly as she
held his head to her chest. Her robe got wet as she kissed his face
and head where the sores were. “Ah, my Cariño.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She smiled and began washing his chest.

“Tell me, Baby Love, how did you get Teresa to talk
to you about the rape?”

“Really, Black?”

“What?”

“I’m a counselor for rape victims and you ask me
how?”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean… well given the
circumstances of the situation wouldn’t you say you were sort of
too emotionally involved to get her to open up to you?”

“Evidently not. She opened up to me before she did
to you which is shocking since you seem to think you two have this
magical connection.”

Black sighed. “Morena—”

“I’m cool. Just stating the facts, that’s all. When
I saw that dick head in the hall at her apartment I knew something
was wrong. There was no way I was leaving her alone with him. Him
being the rapist was nowhere in my mind. I just thought he was an
ex acting a fool. She seems to have them popping up everywhere
around her.”

Black ignored the jab at him and James. He had
learned to pick his battles and this one wasn’t worth it.

She continued. “So after asshole left we went inside
and it didn’t take much for the house of cards to come falling
down. She told me everything. The hard part was convincing her to
tell you. She was worried about me telling you. After I convinced
her that my oath of patient/client confidentiality was more
important to me than my relationship with you she decided to just
tell you herself.”

Black felt a bit hurt. The fact that she didn’t want
to tell him made him feel like maybe what he thought they shared
was all in his mind. “Why didn’t she want to tell me?”

“I don’t know, Black. I can only guess. Most rape
victims feel so many different emotions. She may have felt as
though you thought she caused this or, since she feels dirty all of
the time from being violated, she may think that you view her as
being dirty… as though she asked for this to happen to her. Shit,
maybe she didn’t want you to view her differently.”

“Well I don’t. I would never.”

“Really, Black?”

He angled his body so that he was facing her. “You
think I would?”

“I might be the wrong person to be asking
this…but…yeah…I see how you look at her… like she’s your teenage
daughter who has had her heart broken by her boyfriend and you’re
ready to beat the boy up.”

He turned back around and closed his eyes.

She laughed. “Don’t pout.”

“I’m not. Maybe you’re right. How am I supposed to
behave?”

“I’m not telling you not to be angry. Anger is a
natural response, but be mindful of your boundaries and give her
time. If you two are as close as you think you are she will open up
to you when she is ready.”

“Thanks, Baby Love. Why are you so good to me?”

“I ask God that every minute of every day, my
Cariño.”

***

Waeltz stood in the cozy den surrounded by war
memorabilia. The walls were of a wooden foundation, the furniture
soft leather, and bookshelves aligned the walls stuffed with books
about strategy. Waeltz thumbed through the collection. Some he’d
read, some he hadn’t. There was Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, Robert
Greene’s The 48 Laws of Power, and Che Guerra’s journals to books
written about General Patton, and General Albert C. Wedemeyer. The
smell of fifty year old cognac and Marlboro filled the small room.
He’d spent many days in this room hiding under the desk in the dark
with a flashlight reading books. It was his secret fort when he
didn’t want to hear the screams. His mom always told him that he
wasn’t hurting her, that it was just something that grownups did
and he would understand when he was older. He’d wanted to believe
his mother but the scars on her wrist and legs made it hard to. It
wasn’t until his mother passed and he went away to live with his
father that he finally understood and stopped hating Witherspoon.
He learned that his mother wasn’t being hurt. She was just a freak.
She and Witherspoon were into really deep, dark sex. Witherspoon
had kept contact with him over the years and was the main influence
on him becoming a cop. No one knew of their past. Waeltz knew that
Witherspoon was pissed about the way everything went down. That’s
why he was there to see how he could help with the situation.

The truth was that Waeltz admired Witherspoon. He
felt a sense of pride looking at the older man sitting behind his
desk. A framed picture of General Robert E. Lee hung behind him on
the wall. He was prepared to do whatever he needed to help clear
his name even if it meant risking his career.

“I had to do it like this, sir,” Waeltz
explained.

“Did you now?”

“Yes, sir. I couldn’t warn you. I didn’t know what
you would do. You may have—”

“Ran?” Witherspoon asked cutting him off
midsentence.

Waeltz cleared his throat.

Witherspoon continued. “You think I’m guilty.”

Waeltz remained silent.

Witherspoon spoke again. “It’s alright if you doubt
my innocence. Just stand there and be a man and say it to my
face.”

“Truth is, sir… I don’t know.”

“I won’t go down without a fight.”

Waeltz approached his desk and pressed both balled
up fists down onto the oak making sure the chief had his direct
attention. He stared into his eyes. “You won’t go down at all if I
have anything to do with it.”

“You speak like a man with a plan.”

“A good plan violently executed now is better than a
perfect plan executed next week.”

Witherspoon reclined in his seat and swiveled.
“Patton,” Witherspoon responded referring to General Patton.

“Yes, sir. I studied just like you taught me.”

“Studying is one thing but can you execute?”

“Tu Mu says: Your surviving spy must be a man of
keen intellect, though in outward appearance a fool; of shabby
exterior, but with a will of iron. He must be active, robust,
endowed with physical strength and courage; thoroughly accustomed
to all sorts of dirty work, able to endure hunger and cold, and to
put up with shame and ignominy. To pull this off sir, I will be the
biggest fool my enemy has ever seen.”

“There will be some collateral damage.”

Waeltz picked up the bottle of cognac, poured
himself a drink, and held the glass in the air as if making a
toast. “We can’t save everybody. It is inevitable in all wars that
there will be lost on both sides.”

***

The next morning as Black made his way downstairs
into the living room he cleared his throat loudly purposely awaking
James and Teresa who were still asleep on the couch. He didn’t know
how he should feel about the situation. It was already weird enough
with Teresa being there. Throwing James, her other man, into the
mix was another story altogether. He shook the thought making his
way to the kitchen to make coffee. “You two sleep well?” he asked
over his shoulder.

James didn’t respond. He simply stood and
stretched.

Teresa squinted her eyes with an annoyed, tired look
on her face. “What time is it? It’s still dark outside.”

“A little after 6 A.M,” Black responded from the
kitchen “Anyone want coffee?”

“I’ll take a cup,” James responded as he moved
towards the kitchen.

“You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me. I’m going back
to bed,” Teresa mumbled as she headed towards the stairs to her
room.

James sat at on a barstool at the kitchen island as
the coffee began to percolate. “What now?” he asked as Black placed
two coffee cups on the counter. “Where do we stand? What now? Or
the next step in Teresa’s case… what now?”

“Depends on your level of honesty.”

“Honesty?”

As the room began to fill with the smell of fresh
brewed coffee Black moved towards the refrigerator. “Milk or
cream?”

“Black,” James responded as he held his empty mug in
the air.

Black returned with the pot of fresh coffee, filled
James’ cup, and then his own. “Be honest with me, bro… since you
helped me out with my little squabble last night do you not like me
any less?”

James took a hefty swallow of the strong hot coffee
before for responding. “Not at all. I still don’t like you
much.”

“Good. I would hate to think it was a one way thing.
So from here we keep this line of being civil with one another
going for the sake of Teresa. I get the sense that you care about
her but it’s something about you that’s not quite right. She may
not see it but that’s why I’m here.”

“Is it now?”

Black sipped his coffee. “Damn right.”

Morena entered the kitchen surprised to see that
James was still there. Her eyebrow rose as she made eye contact
with Black with a ‘what the fuck’ look in her eye. Black returned
the look with a ‘we’ll discuss it later’ look in his. It was
something that the two often did; a form of non-verbal
communication. They’d learned to read one another well.

“You guys want breakfast?” she asked as she opened
the refrigerator and removed a carton of eggs.

Black didn’t respond. He sipped his coffee giving
James the evil eye as James smirked menacingly.

Chapter Seven

Black stepped into the precinct where he was greeted
by Waeltz and immediately led down to the basement through a damp
and cool corridor. They walked until they came upon a three inch
steel door. Black paused and looked around the room he was in.
“What is this place?”

“We call it the catacombs.”

“Catacombs? Like a cemetery? There are bodies down
here?”

Waeltz smirked, turned, and pulled a little harder
than Black had expected to get the door open. “Be serious, Love.
Why would we keep dead bodies in the basement of a police
station?”

“I am being serious. You tell me why would the
basement of a police station even be considered a crime scene for a
work place rape?”

Waeltz didn’t respond. He just stepped to the side
as the crime scene investigators entered with equipment in tow. In
comparison to the corridor that led to the catacombs, the inside
was surprisingly well illuminated. There were rows and rows of
shelves packed with boxes upon boxes.