Revelations by Laurel Dewey Page A

them to be as facile and authentic as the made-to-order patina bear or eagle that adorned their manicured lawn. From their unscuffed, two-thousand-dollar Lucchese alligator cowboy boots to their ridiculous turquoise, silver-and-coral bolo tie and freshly pressed jeans, they were about as in touch with reality as they were acquainted with their automated dishwasher. Something told Jane that the Van Gordens wouldn’t disappoint in this generalization.
    “They always have to live up above town, don’t they?” Jane grumbled as she and Weyler walked toward the Van Gorden’s driveway. “That way they can figuratively and physically look down on the peons.”
    “You know, this whole idea of quitting smoking cold turkey…how about just tapering off instead?” Weyler gently offered.

    “No, boss. There’s not enough suffering in tapering.”
    “Try chewing on the inside of an orange rind. I heard that helps quell the urge for nicotine.”
    “Fascinating,” Jane said dryly. “You hear that on your favorite PBS station?”
    “Yes. A program on addiction.”
    Jane needed to change the subject. She touched Weyler’s coat sleeve and stopped at the edge of the long, steep driveway.
    “Your ol’ buddy, Bo, is quite the character.”
    “Bo was always a little different than the rest of us. Smart, but in an off-kilter way. Some things he says don’t make a lot of sense, except to Bo.”
    “ Some things? ” Jane said with great disdain. “ Juice Box Jake ? Trash Bag Jordan ? Nah, that’s not weird. Sorry, boss, but your friend is a creaking relic. My mother had a term to describe people like Bo… Crusty. ” She shook her head in confusion. “I have a real hard time picturing you and Bo as rookie partners. Putting the two of you together is like a Hollywood pitch for a bad situation comedy.”
    Weyler smiled. “I didn’t come out of the Academy looking and behaving the way I do today. I had plenty of cocky, youthful gusto to spare.”
    Jane tried to picture Weyler with youthful gusto. “Boss, I don’t give a damn how much youthful gusto you had. You and Bo? There’s just no…connection.”
    “You’re wrong, Jane.” Weyler’s voice became serious. “There is a connection.”
    Jane waited. “And…?”
    “And hopefully you and Bo will be able to form a connection as well. If he doesn’t kill you first.” Weyler started up the driveway.
    Jane didn’t follow. She was blocked once again in her quest to understand the reason why Weyler “owed” Bo and, in turn, dragged her tired ass up to Midas. “I’m sure he had a few choice words to say about me after I left.”

    Weyler stopped and turned to Jane. “He did.”
    She was used to being talked about behind her back. Her often-aggressive nature didn’t earn her a lot of friends. “What’d he call me? A bitch?” Jane asked with a smirk.
    “No. He asked me if you were a lesbian.”
    Jane looked at Weyler, stunned. “What the fuck? He actually said that?”
    “Not exactly. He asked me, ‘Does she pitch for the other team?’”
    “Because I speak my opinion? Because I don’t take shit from people?”
    “That played a part I’m sure. But Bo has always been visually driven.” Jane already surmised this but was tentative in how it would play out with her personally. Weyler was suddenly uncomfortable. “His perception was based on how you dress.”
    Jane looked down at her plain dark blue poplin shirt with the powdery stain of orange rust from the bridge, jeans with splattered mud from the adventure, scuffed cowboy boots and beaten leather jacket. “This is not gay . This is comfortable !”
    “Let it go, Jane. We’ve got a job to do. And now that job is a little more complicated with the media interest.” He started to move when Jane grabbed his coat sleeve again.
    “Look, boss,” Jane felt the world closing in around her. “I didn’t know Betty was gonna blast this story on the wire. I just called her to put forth the possibility