Bad II the Bone by Anton Marks Page B

    Y paced over to the smooth central column and leaned against it keeping their deliberations unseen from the rest of the gym.
    “He’s messing up every meditation session I have.”
    Y drifted, her shoulders and arms tensing on the concrete as if she was about to topple the temple of Dagon on the heathen.
    Slowly she coaxed her focus away from some point in space, wiped her eyes and stared back at them.
    “I can’t help thinking I could have done more.”
    Patra shot a stream of smoke to the ceiling extractors.
    “You taking this shit waaay too personal sugahh,” she said coolly. “Motherfucker was a con artist pure and simple. Blaming yourself now ain’t going to remedy shit. Focus on payback baby.”
    “That a deh truth,” Suzy agreed. “I suppose yuh haven’t talked to John bout this yet? Maybe dat will give you some closure.”
    “True dat, girlfriend,” Patra laughed. “And you know closure ain’t the only thing he wants to give to you.”
    Y kissed her teeth and made a face. 
    “I called and left a message and he hasn’t got back to me yet. He must be really busy,” said Y. “But I’m still not sure I should tell him though.”
    Strangely the innocent question had the effect of injecting this whole unfortunate situation with a ray of light for Y a t least.
    Detective Sergeant Winston Shaft McFarlane was the type of man a healthy chunk of the female population would not think twice about suppressing any morals or shame they had and try by any means at their disposal to make him theirs, wholly.
    As in body and soul.
    He was in his mid thirties, one of the youngest Detective’s in the country, handsome, intelligent and with an ass you dreamed of taking a long leisurely nibble off - not that she had but the thought had crossed her mind too many times not to mention it.
    Winston was like the unofficial fourth part of the posse. He had been the investigating officer at the bank robbery which had created this friendship.
    It was one of those memorable scenes that just stuck with you. Wearing shades and an expression that said ’stay cool, goddamn it’ he walked onto the fresh crime scene. The e mployees frantic, the customers relieved and still trying to understand the incredible events that had taken place. The players were still in place when the cavalry had arrived. One of the robbers was unconscious at Suzy’s feet, Patra nervously pointing a gun to one of the men’s head swearing and Y holding another in a headlock, The Rock would have been proud of.
    There was no expression of amazement, no sexist remarks just a caring concern for their well being after such a traumatic situation.
    On that day a great deal of respect developed between them and they continued to see him outside of his professional sphere as a detective, Y more than anybody else.
    “If anybody can give us some pointers on this cat, John can,” Patra said. “Just make sure you hook up with him. And Y? Remember business first and the butt naked sex comes later, yeah.”
    “We’re good friends,” Y protested weakly.
    “Whatever,” Patra grinned.
    They realised Suzy had gone mystic on them after they h ad finished teasing each other.
    Waiting as they always did for her to rejoin them, Suzy opened her eyes slowly. Meditation was her way of keeping herself and the world in check.
    “Someting will turn up for us, it won’t end like this,” Suzy looked at Y, her voice losing its cold edge.
    “If we keep talking about this motherfucker, he would have won. And there’s no way his raggedy ass is going to have shit over me.” Patra smiled cunningly, her hi-lighted corn rows glowing under the lights. “If anybody can pull us out of this shit with a plan you can sugahh. We’ve done this before?”
    “We have, haven’t we,” Y said smiling.
    Y’s posture noticeably changed,