Part 1
The fog of one too many scotch and waters takes a few moments to shake even when the phone is demanding attention. It took three tries before my hand grabbed the infernal beast and jabbed at the answer button. "What!"
"That's no way to say good morning to your favorite brother-in-law."
"You are my only brother-in-law and I still haven't forgiven you for seducing my sister. And it is..." I glanced at the clock groaned. "It is six fucking o'clock on a Monday morning. What the hell do you want?"
"I want you to earn your paycheck this week. We will figure something out for next week later."
"I earned my paycheck when I shoved you out of the way so that damn truck would hit me and save my sister from becoming a widow."
"Details, details. The big bananas in Austin in close concert with the insurance company said 'recovery, rehab, and then desk work.' There is a desk waiting and it is calling your name. Besides, we have a couple of things that really need your talent."
I groaned for Rick's benefit but inside my heart beat a little faster. The opportunity to do something besides trying to hide from the pain was very desirable. Doing something, anything, seemed very worthwhile.
"I'll be in around 7:30. Have coffee and ibuprofen available."
"The coffee is already perked and I got you an industrial-sized bottle of extra strength waiting for you. I'll have a patrol car pick you up in twenty minutes."
"You need to clean out the wax of your ears. You didn't hear a word I said."
"What did you say? This connection is lousy. By the way, Glenda will be the one picking you up." I groaned again as Rick laughed and hung up. It's bad enough that your boss is screwing your sister but when he sends the department beauty queen to pick you up, he is being totally sadistic. After twenty years of competing with and against each other, I should have known that he would throw me a curve ball.
In high school, Rick was the all-district quarterback, the star pitcher on the baseball team, and the leading scorer on the basketball team. I was his tight end, his catcher, and his rebounder. In short, I spent our youth covering his ass and making him look good. It has sort of carried over into adulthood. I spent six years in the Army while he joined the state police. When I got out of the Army, thanks to a couple of gunshot wounds to my shoulder which messed up several bones and nerves, he recruited me into the department. At the time, he was the area head and I reported to him through another intermediary. The intermediary quickly discovered that he was basically useless in that role and just handed me the phone when Rick called with a problem.
In the Army, I was part of a team of analysts who followed up almost any accident or attack to determine who or what went wrong. Those skills fairly easily transferred into my civilian life and I quickly became the area forensic specialist for those jobs that were outside the jurisdiction of a large police force. I worked in tandem with the local police or sheriff 's office to ferret out as much information as possible. I got along well these local guys because they usually got the credit for solving the crime.
After ten years, Rick had been promoted to the regional supervisor for the northern quadrant of the state and I was officially assigned to his staff but I did the same work except on an expanded scale. Three months ago, my investigation led us to a drug dealer's hideout. He took offence that his out-of-the-way lab had been discovered and met our arrival with a flurry of gunfire that would have made the Taliban proud. Rick was moving to a better command position when I saw a truck break out of a barn and head for the highway. I rushed Rick, knocking him behind a patrol car, as the truck's rear fender fish-tailed into me and slapped my body around like a ping-pong ball. The truck ended up in the middle of a tree with the driver's head sticking through the windshield after several bullets slammed into the truck and diverted his attention. I ended up in a heap by the side of the road.
They air-flighted me to the nearest hospital where they tried to put the pieces of my shoulder, back, and thigh back into place again. Several bones were broken and muscles rearranged in my shoulder and back but the worst were my leg, which required surgery to repair. That made it awkward to stand without support and my shoulder made it hard to hold onto a support. Scotch and ibuprofen proved to be a better pain-killers than the prescription ones that the doctors tried to ply me with. So, my recent life had basically been a dull lapse of time filled with meaningless television shows and an occasional bite of food.
After a couple of weeks, the torture began. Initially, the doctors and nurses had treated me gently and called me a hero. But then they brought in a new team of sadistic savages who smiled broadly while they insisted that my broken body should move in ways that it didn't want to. My father would have been proud because I never cried; however, my mother would have objected to the cursing and screaming but I never shed a tear. Well, I never shed one that they could see.
After several weeks of torture, the team of rehab folks celebrated when I stood on my own for the first time. I celebrated by throwing up. They had replaced the cast on my leg with a brace that would have made medieval torture mongers proud. It allowed me to stand but otherwise, I was unable to move. They also celebrated when I was able to lift a two-pound weight from my side to my waist. I celebrated by dropping the weight and sitting down.
Now three months later, I was living back in my house with instructions to walk every day until I could walk a mile and to exercise my arm and shoulder through a range of exercises. I still went in weekly as they monitored my progress but essentially, I was on my own. Since I couldn't drive, my sainted sister drove me to these sessions with stops at the grocery and liquor store on the way back.
Now my sadistic brother-in-law, I will never figure out what my sister saw in him anyway, wants me to go back to work. I will add that to the long list of things that he owes me for. Knowing him, the payback will be offered at my funeral. He sort of expects me to deliver results first and then reap the rewards after he gets his first. Dumb bastard.
I had my pants and loafers on and was wrestling with the buttons on my shirt when the knock at the front door came. I had the choice of standing and hobbling to the door with my shirt unable to hide my chest or I could remain seated and just holler for Glenda to come on in. My choice was simple, "Come on in Glenda, and keep your eyes closed." Let's just say that the rehab therapy hadn't gotten to the point where cleaning house was tolerable.
The door opened and The Glenda walked in. No one would dare call her that to her face for fear of being labeled a sexist pig but the truth is that in my eyes and many others, she was the archetypal role model of a physically beautiful woman. At 5'8" tall and 130 pounds, she could not fail to attract attention when she entered a room. The fact that she had been a competitive swimmer in college and had graduated Summa Cum Laude in Criminal Justice only enhanced her reputation as being a totally beautiful but off-limits woman. Her reputation was solidly in place through her actions as well as her in-office demeanor and performance. If there was a perfect cop, she would be near the top of the list for those who worked with her. I was no exception. I could admire her from afar but felt that she was totally out of my league socially.
She entered in her perfectly tailored uniform with a perfect smile on her face. Her eyes were also wide open. "I said to keep your eyes closed. I can barely tolerate looking around in here. You shouldn't be subjected to such abuse."
Her smile changed to a grin, "I have seen worse. How are you feeling today, Thomas?"
"I feel somewhere between awful and crap. I would offer you a morning cup of scotch but you are in uniform and that wouldn't be good."
"No, it wouldn't and it wouldn't be good for you either on your first day back to work." That infernal grin never left her face although it only enhanced her beauty.
