am.”
“Deborah, I don’t mean to sound callous, but it’s none of my business. I’m doing my damnedest not to break all Ten Commandments this month. You should be having this conversation with your husband.” Thorpe backed away from the fence. “I wish you luck, Deborah. I really do.” As he walked toward the house, he risked a glance over his shoulder and watched the overtaxed Lycra top resume its bouncing burden.
My God that woman had a hard body . Thorpe glanced down to a trailing Al and Trixie “I should find a social life before the two of you start looking good to me.”
Thorpe had been too consumed with finding his wife and daughter’s killers to fall into loneliness. It was moments such as these—when confronted with an attractive woman—that he was reminded of some basic needs missing from his life. He hadn’t been celibate for the last thirteen months; he’d had a few one-night stands. To engage in anything substantial seemed to be an affront to his lost family. If he were to become intimate with a woman, it would suggest he was moving on and starting afresh. Thorpe knew he wasn’t being logical, but he feared establishing a new relationship would feel like discarding his lost wife and daughter.
Thorpe disappeared inside his home, and Jeff Gobin rolled up the drive. In addition to being his best friend, Jeff was the only person to visit on a regular basis. Other than his sister, he was also the only person aware of the combat prowess Thorpe possessed. Still, even Jeff didn’t know the extent of his training. He was also the only officer on the department Thorpe fully trusted. Not that he’d tell Jeff of his extracurricular activities; he wouldn’t want to put his friend in such a position.
“You look like shit,” Jeff said as Thorpe pulled open his front door.
“Thanks…drank a six-pack last night.”
“You? A six-pack to you would be like a case to me. Thought you gave up drinking?”
“I figured, under the circumstances, I’d better keep away from booze for a while,” Thorpe said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“But you think you can handle it now?”
“No, but kicking your ass still gives me much more satisfaction and is a hell of a lot cheaper than alcohol.”
“Uh-huh. You’re in trouble today. I watched The Last Dragon last night. Learned some old-school moves.”
“Shit, I remember that movie. Guess that makes you Sho’nuff , the Shogun of Harlem.”
“I can’t believe you actually know that movie,” Jeff laughed.
“Hey, maybe after our workout we can rent Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo .”
“Very funny. You probably have a special edition of Dirty Dancing, don’t you?” retorted Jeff.
“Another good movie. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”
“The sad thing is, you know the lines to all these fucking movies.”
“It is sad, isn’t it? So what’s new in the Rat Squad?” Jeff was an investigative sergeant with Internal Affairs. Some officers just referred to the unit as The Rat Squad.
“Same old shit…officers beatin’ the hell out of innocent citizens,” Jeff sarcastically declared as he waved off a cup of coffee.
“My name come across your desk lately?”
“No. Maybe we should get you a damn medal…no complaints for an entire week.”
“Yeah. The only cops who don’t get complaints are the ones who don’t do real police work.”
“You don’t have to tell me, brother. You’re acting like I wasn’t your partner for four years.”
Thorpe smiled “Just making sure you haven’t crossed to the dark side.”
“Why does it have to be the dark side, asshole? Why can’t it be the white side?”
Both men laughed. Despite their lasting friendship, Thorpe and Jeff knew little of the other’s past. Thorpe figured his friend sensed his reluctance to talk of his childhood, or perhaps Jeff avoided inquires because he didn’t want to reciprocate. Either way, the arrangement suited Thorpe just fine.
Thorpe’s pager started going off.
“Deborah, I don’t mean to sound callous, but it’s none of my business. I’m doing my damnedest not to break all Ten Commandments this month. You should be having this conversation with your husband.” Thorpe backed away from the fence. “I wish you luck, Deborah. I really do.” As he walked toward the house, he risked a glance over his shoulder and watched the overtaxed Lycra top resume its bouncing burden.
My God that woman had a hard body . Thorpe glanced down to a trailing Al and Trixie “I should find a social life before the two of you start looking good to me.”
Thorpe had been too consumed with finding his wife and daughter’s killers to fall into loneliness. It was moments such as these—when confronted with an attractive woman—that he was reminded of some basic needs missing from his life. He hadn’t been celibate for the last thirteen months; he’d had a few one-night stands. To engage in anything substantial seemed to be an affront to his lost family. If he were to become intimate with a woman, it would suggest he was moving on and starting afresh. Thorpe knew he wasn’t being logical, but he feared establishing a new relationship would feel like discarding his lost wife and daughter.
Thorpe disappeared inside his home, and Jeff Gobin rolled up the drive. In addition to being his best friend, Jeff was the only person to visit on a regular basis. Other than his sister, he was also the only person aware of the combat prowess Thorpe possessed. Still, even Jeff didn’t know the extent of his training. He was also the only officer on the department Thorpe fully trusted. Not that he’d tell Jeff of his extracurricular activities; he wouldn’t want to put his friend in such a position.
“You look like shit,” Jeff said as Thorpe pulled open his front door.
“Thanks…drank a six-pack last night.”
“You? A six-pack to you would be like a case to me. Thought you gave up drinking?”
“I figured, under the circumstances, I’d better keep away from booze for a while,” Thorpe said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“But you think you can handle it now?”
“No, but kicking your ass still gives me much more satisfaction and is a hell of a lot cheaper than alcohol.”
“Uh-huh. You’re in trouble today. I watched The Last Dragon last night. Learned some old-school moves.”
“Shit, I remember that movie. Guess that makes you Sho’nuff , the Shogun of Harlem.”
“I can’t believe you actually know that movie,” Jeff laughed.
“Hey, maybe after our workout we can rent Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo .”
“Very funny. You probably have a special edition of Dirty Dancing, don’t you?” retorted Jeff.
“Another good movie. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”
“The sad thing is, you know the lines to all these fucking movies.”
“It is sad, isn’t it? So what’s new in the Rat Squad?” Jeff was an investigative sergeant with Internal Affairs. Some officers just referred to the unit as The Rat Squad.
“Same old shit…officers beatin’ the hell out of innocent citizens,” Jeff sarcastically declared as he waved off a cup of coffee.
“My name come across your desk lately?”
“No. Maybe we should get you a damn medal…no complaints for an entire week.”
“Yeah. The only cops who don’t get complaints are the ones who don’t do real police work.”
“You don’t have to tell me, brother. You’re acting like I wasn’t your partner for four years.”
Thorpe smiled “Just making sure you haven’t crossed to the dark side.”
“Why does it have to be the dark side, asshole? Why can’t it be the white side?”
Both men laughed. Despite their lasting friendship, Thorpe and Jeff knew little of the other’s past. Thorpe figured his friend sensed his reluctance to talk of his childhood, or perhaps Jeff avoided inquires because he didn’t want to reciprocate. Either way, the arrangement suited Thorpe just fine.
Thorpe’s pager started going off.
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