Letters to Maxine

CHAPTER 18

Step One

1

"Kelly," said Keegs. "What did Guldbrandsen want, or should I even ask?"

I opened the driver's side door and sat. I pumped the brakes and the gas pedal and turned on the RMP. Filled with anticipation, Keegs climbed into the car and threw his cover onto the dashboard.

"He told me to keep you away from Bongiovanni. You're already on thin ice, Keegs, so just let me handle anything regarding that asshole."

I started the pre-vehicle inspection, checking the blinkers, horn, and the MDT (mobile data terminal). I switched on the overheads using the flashers, then the rotators and strobes. After giving the siren a chirp and wail, I reached for the mic, took it from the cradle, and called us into service.

Keegs sniffled from the cold air and rolled his fingers on the dashboard. His head bobbed to his created beat as he turned toward me, and his wide smile stretched from ear to ear, signaling the start of the conversation I knew was inevitable.

"So it's pink, bro," he said. "You pumped or what?" His tone was lofty, and his grin bared his teeth. "Well? Did you get a good look at her, and not as a boot? I mean, bro."

"Yeah, I saw her. I'm not dead."

"I bet you did. Everyone did. And now you get to ride with Officer McMenamin every day, all day." He handed me an empty Snapple bottle for my spittoon and ripped open a new package.

Keegs' insistence on having this conversation intensified the knot in my stomach, making me feel even more on edge. He knew I saw Maxine in the field that day, but he didn't realize she had stunned me.

I wasn't ready to talk about this, at least not yet. I needed to keep my shit wired tight and stay frosty before I said anything to anyone.

The last thing I needed was to engage in a competitive game of one-upmanship and destroy her good name. And I was determined not to be reduced to a mere number discarded on the deli counter. But Maxine didn't fit that mold.

We pulled out of the parking lot and headed across the street to the 7-11 to start our shift.

"Well, she's freaking hot." Keegs shook his head and whistled. "Damn fine." He pulled down on his Kevlar and smiled.

We pulled into the lot and felt the tires cross over the concrete apron.

"She's a McMenamin. Show some respect," I said. My patience wore thin, and my words became sharp and biting.

"Easy," he said. "We're just having a hypothetical." He laughed out loud and shook his head. "And yeah, her old man's a political party prick, so let's hope she doesn't take after him."

I caught Keegs' eye. His forehead creased, and his lips tightened. He had a look of disbelief and anger that made you seem crazy and stupid.

"And who gives a shit that you're her FTO? I can tell you're into her, and you, my friend, have the prime real estate. Your car and your rules."

"Okay," I snapped. Keegs found me out, like he always did, his keen intuition never failing to amaze me. However, it proved to be his most annoying trait. He was relentless, refusing to quit until I revealed my feelings.

"Getting in her pants is not my goal. You know I don't like one-night stands or friends with benefits. I want a relationship, a real one. Not making her into my sex puppet."

Keegs sat back and stretched out his arms. "Well," he said. "You might get your chance. During roll call, I saw her looking at you."

Leaning against the seat's backrest, I rolled my head towards him. I cast a skeptical gaze, squinting my eyes and raising my eyebrows in disbelief.