ONE SMALL VICTORY (6 page)

“Mom! What’re you doing here?”

Jenny turned to see Scott. She put a hand to
her chest to see if her heart was actually pressing through her
breastbone. “You scared me to death.”

“That answer is non-responsive.”

She had to turn her face to hide the smile.
He was always so good at turning her parenting techniques back on
her.

“I thought I’d walk you home.”

“Mother!”

“Okay, I’ll stay behind you. Nobody has to
know.”

He shrugged and started to move down the
sidewalk. Jenny touched his arm. “Who are those guys?”

“What guys?”

“There.” She pointed to the small cluster of
kids. ”Those two bigger kids don’t look like students.”

Scott grabbed her elbow and tried to propel
her along. “You don’t want to know.”

“But I do.” She pulled out of his grasp and
stood still. He took a few steps away, then turned back. The look
on his face made it obvious that the only reason he was stopping
was to avoid the embarrassment of her calling after him.

“Okay.” He shifted his book-bag and tugged at
his denim jacket, then glanced quickly around. “They’re
dealers.”

“What? Like in drugs?”

Scott grabbed her arm again. “Why don’t you
shout it? I’m not sure they heard you.”

“Don’t get smart.” Jenny tried to pull out of
his grasp, but he held her tightly and forced her to match his
steps.

“Let’s go,” he said. “You can smack me when
we get home.”

She shot another look over her shoulder as
Scott pulled her along. The men were watching and a shudder passed
through her, caused by an emotion she couldn’t quite put a name to.
Revulsion? Apprehension? Both?

She leaned closer to her son. “Does this go
on all the time?”

“Only on school days.”

That comment stopped her so abruptly he lost
the hold he had on her arm. “This is routine? Why don’t the police
do something?”

“They try. Patrols come by a lot. But they
have a good early-warning system?”

“I’m lost. Who has a warning system?”

Mom. This isn’t the time to make you street
smart. Let’s go home.”

“Do you ever...?”

His look could have withered weeds.

“They say the parents are the last to
know.”

Scott glanced away. “Is that what they told
you about Michael?”

“This isn’t about Michael. It’s about you.”
Jenny tugged on his sleeve. “I know it’s hard to resist all this.
The pressure. And I suspect that Michael tried it with Brad. So I
just want to be sure about you.”

“I haven’t. I won’t. Ever.” He held
eye-contact and for a moment his stance was so much like Michael’s
when he’d been making a point, Jenny was afraid she’d lose it right
there in the middle of the street.

She took a breath to steady herself. “Be
careful of absolutes. They tend to come back and bite you in the
ass.”

The touch of humor worked. Strength returned
to her knees, and the tightness around Scott’s mouth eased into a
brief smile. “I’m pretty safe on this one,” he said.

CHAPTER SIX

“I want to join this task force.” Jenny
dropped the newspaper on top of an open folder on Steve’s desk.

“Wha—”

“This.” Jenny pointed to a headline CITY
LAUNCHES DRUG TASK FORCE.

Steve glanced at the paper then raised his
eyes to meet hers. They appeared to burn with intensity. “You
can’t”

“Why not? Aren’t the police always
complaining about lack of cooperation from the public?”

Steve regarded her, noting the defiant tilt
of her chin. “This isn’t what we’re looking for.”

“I’ve been watching them for two weeks.”
Jenny threw a notebook down on top of the paper. It opened to
reveal a page dotted with scribbles of numbers and notations.
“They’re out there like the fuckin’ ice-cream man.”

Jenny didn’t realize how her voice had risen
until Trudy popped her head in. “You okay in here, Steve?”

He held Jenny’s gaze. “We okay?”

She released a deep breath and nodded. He
waved the other woman off and motioned to a chair. After Jenny
perched on the edge of it, he rocked back in his and regarded her.
“Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

“No.” She let a smile touch the corner of her
mouth.

The smile looked good, and that realization
startled him. Not that he was immune to a pretty woman, but
this...

“Civilians have no place in this kind of
operation.” He tapped the news story with the tip of his
pencil.

“I’m not just any civilian. I’m a woman with
a great deal of emotion-driven energy. You ever see what a bit of
anxiety can do when it comes to cleaning a house?”

He leaned back in his chair and studied her.
Jenny wasn’t sure if he was considering her request or trying to
sort out her example. Finally, he sighed. “I hardly think—”

“Are you the final authority, or is there
someone else I can talk to?”

The interruption seemed to rattle him and he
glanced around quickly as if looking for backup. When he faced her
again he tapped his cheek with the end of his pen. “You’re not
going away, are you?”

“No.” Again she allowed a small smile.

Steve sighed and stood up. “Come on.”

Grabbing her notebook and the newspaper,
Jenny followed him out of the office. They went down the hall and
paused in front of a closed door. Steve knocked, then opened it
when a voice inside said, “Yo.”

The Hispanic man behind a large, pristine
desk looked at Steve, then at Jenny, then back to Steve. He raised
one bushy eyebrow in question.

“Mrs. Jasik, this is Chief Gonzales.”

“It’s Ms. Jasik.” She stepped forward and
offered a hand. “But you can call me Jenny.”

Gonzales sent another questioning look around
her, and she turned to see Steve leaning against the wall with an
impassive expression. He spoke to the Chief with a brief nod in her
direction. “Ms. Jasik is the one who lost her son in that accident
a while back.”

“Oh.” Gonzales spoke softly and gave her a
look that she interpreted as sympathetic. “My sincere
condolences.”

“Thank you.”

He continued to look at her as if waiting for
her to get to the point of this impromptu meeting.

“She wants to join the new Drug Task Force.”
Steve said.

“Oh.” This time the intonation was different,
and Gonzales wiped at his stubble of beard.

“I told her we don’t use civilians,” Steve
continued.

“That’s right.”

In the face of his steady gaze, a wave of
uncertainty washed over Jenny. What the hell did she think she was
doing? Extreme frustration had driven her to the station this
morning, but did she really think they’d accept her. It wasn’t like
she was brimming with qualifications. A florist? A mother? A
woman?

But even as the mental debate raged, Jenny’s
heart told her she couldn’t back off without a bit of a fight.
Scrapping was second nature to her. Anyone who wondered just had to
ask Ralph. For all his faults, she was big enough to admit that she
didn’t always make it easy to live with her.

“This is highly unorthodox,” Gonzales
said.

Jenny resisted the urge to say, “Sure. Sorry
I bothered you.” She forced herself not to fidget under the force
of his gaze.

Gonzales leaned back and cradled his head in
his hands. “What makes you think you can do this?”

“Determination.” It was the first and only
thing that came to mind.

“Determination’s good,” Steve said.

“I was thinking in terms of practical
experience,” Gonzales said. “Something that would catch my eye on a
resume.”

Jenny stifled a laugh. I can arrange a mean
centerpiece.

Gonzales released his hands and sat forward.
He studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Tell you what. Pass
the fitness test and I’ll consider your request.”

Fitness test? A picture of Marine boot camp
training flashed through her mind. How the hell could she pass a
fitness test? Was this the moment she should say, ‘thank you very
much’ and take her leave? “What exactly do I have to do?”

The man seemed as surprised by her question
as she was. “A modified form of our cadet requirements.”

“Which are?”

“Run a mile without passing out. Twenty-five
sit-ups. Twenty-five push-ups. A few more things I can't recall.
It’s been a while since I looked at the training manual.”

Jenny kept her feet planted firmly in place
despite her inclination to run like hell. She couldn’t even
remember the last time she’d done a sit-up. “How long do I have to
get ready?”

Gonzales seemed to consider her slight frame
for a second longer than necessary. “Four weeks.”

~*~

Driving home, Jenny's mind whirled with the
effort of trying to sort out the complications she'd never
considered before making that brash decision to storm the police
station.

Not the least of which was keeping everything
a secret.

Gonzales had explained that the only way they
could make this happen-if she passed the physical challenge-was to
run her as a confidential informant. That meant not telling anyone.
"Not your kids. Not your mother. Not even your dog can know where
you go or what you do."

That had struck her as funny at the station,
but now as she approached her driveway anxiety tore through her.
Her whole relationship with the kids had been built on honesty. How
could she lie to them? And hide things from her mother, or Carol?
There was a good reason Jenny never played poker.

After the car rolled to a stop in front of
the house, Jenny killed the engine and sat for a moment. Through
her open window she heard the chatter of a blue jay that was
worrying a robin in the elm tree. As she watched the birds, she
couldn’t help but notice that the branches of the tree dipped
dangerously close to the roof. Pretty soon they’d be scraping
across the shingles. Something else to fix. Maybe she should just
forget this nonsense and take care of her house. Take care of the
family that she had left. Forget the drugs and forget-

No. She couldn’t just forget. Otherwise there
would be no way to make any sense of Michael’s death. And somehow
there was this burning need for reason, for order, for
retribution.

~*~

The pain in her side finally brought Jenny to
a halt and she bent over to get her breath. Good thing she’d toted
deliveries around for all these years. No upper-arm wobble for her.
But the stamina could use work. She jogged a few blocks and broke
out in a huff.

Surprisingly, Carol had outdistanced her. Who
would’ve thought short and a little pudgy would have beat skinny as
a rail?

Her friend now came back with a broad grin.
“I still have it.”

“What?”

“How quickly you forget. High School track?
Who beat you then?”

“Bite me.” Jenny headed down the street at a
slow lope that Carol easily matched.

“Tell me again why we’re doing this?”

“So we can enjoy our old age together.”

“Who says I want to spend it with you?”

Jenny managed a semblance of a laugh in
between huffs. That had been an on-going joke with them for years.
Carol lost her husband to cancer two years after Ralph had run off.
Neither of them had been able to decide which loss was worse;
finally deciding that it didn’t have to be a contest. But what they
both agreed on was a real reluctance to make that kind of emotional
commitment again. Maybe it was enough to have one good friend and
plenty of extended family to love and be loved by.

It had seemed to be a good philosophy until
some other basic human needs, the kind that could only be met by
someone of the opposite sex, had clamored for attention.

While Jenny had been too busy with kids and
eking out survival to tend to those needs, Carol had the means and
the opportunity to seek out someone new. Six months ago George had
entered her life; complete with the family she and Barry had never
been able to have. Granted, they were only every-other-weekend
kids, but it was better than the nothing Carol had had previously.
And it looked like the relationship was going to last.

Jenny was happy for her friend. Glad to see
the dreamy smiles and hear the contented sighs when she talked
about George and his two kids. But a little part of her couldn’t
help but be envious. Oh, that old green snake.

She shook off the thoughts and coaxed her
trembling leg muscles into action. She only had a week left. No
time for loafing.

~*~

“Did you see the morning paper?” Mitchell
asked as Jenny walked in the door.

“No.” She hung up her coat and joined him
behind the counter where he had the local rag spread out.

The headline he pointed out read: SECOND
ACCIDENT VICTIM DIES. It took a moment for Jenny to realize the
story referred to Michael’s accident.

“Nineteen-year-old Bradley Brennan died
at...” The story began, and that’s as far as Jenny got before her
eyes blurred and her chest constricted.

She took a deep breath and the tightness
eased.

“I’m sorry,” Mitchell said. “Maybe I
shouldn’t have—”

“That’s okay.” Jenny took another deep breath
and forced a small smile. “I needed to know.”

“Were they close?”

“Yes. For a while. I’m not sure about just
before...” Even after all these weeks, she still had trouble with
some of the words. And she was currently having trouble with some
of her feelings. The first she recognized was sadness that another
boy had died, but a little glimmer of satisfaction snuck up out of
nowhere and made her want to throw up. How could she be so callous?
His death wouldn’t give Michael life.

She remembered her initial sense of injustice
that Brad had lived and her son hadn’t, but she was certain she was
the only one who felt that way. Even Scott in the midst of the
worst of his anger hadn’t voiced that vile thought.