Dangerous Authority (5 page)

Chapter 7

M
ary Jane's home life imploded once again.  Zander went right back to excessive drinking and she had to hire a backup babysitter who would accept kids in the early morning hours that the daycare center did not, just in case he was too drunk to get up and manage the children in the morning.  Which started happening frequently.  He started missing work and she knew that once again it was only a matter of time before he lost his job.

Numerous times at work, Dominique made comments about Zander's behavior.  She honestly didn't know how he could know so much about her personal life, and it unnerved her.  Then again, it was a cop's job to know the goings on of his community.  Unfortunately, her husband was probably well known drunk among local law enforcement.  Whenever Dominique brought it up, she politely put him off.  She loved her friendship with him, and she didn't want to let him cross a line she couldn't uncross.  She resolutely refused to discuss inappropriate topics with him.

Amazingly enough, Zander lasted another three weeks before he got fired again.  His drinking reached an all-time high even though they lost all his income and would scarcely be able to eat let alone blow money on booze.  And she had to keep paying for daycare even with him not working, because she couldn't count on him to get out of bed and take care of the kids when they woke in the morning.  She didn't know what she was going to do.  She began contemplating ways to get him to leave.

One afternoon when she'd volunteered to stay late at work, she stood at the counter talking to Dominique during a lull in business.  He was off duty but still in uniform.  They were thoroughly enjoying a funny exchange about some of his exploits on the job.

And then Zander stumbled in the door.

Mary Jane nearly dropped the coffee pot she held.  It was the first time Zander had made an appearance there since Mitch had banned him from the premises.  Her eyes darted around frantically, hoping Mitch was nowhere in sight.  And, something about having Dominique and Zander under the same roof made her extraordinarily anxious.

"Come here," he muttered blearily. 

The instant darkening of Dominique's expression did not escape her.

She hurried out from behind the counter to meet him where he stood swaying by the front door.  "Z," she said quietly.  "What are you doing here?"

"I need some money," he grumbled.  "Pretty pleeeease?" He gave her a leering grin and his voice was snide and vulgar.

"Just go home and go to sleep," she begged.  "You don't need anymore.  Please!"

Zander snatched her arm and jerked her against him, simultaneously snaking his hand inside her apron pocket.

Before she saw him coming, Dominique pulled her away and then blasted Zander into the wall.

Though Dominique was the smaller of the two, he had no problem pinning Zander in place with his hands around the drunken man's neck.  "Don't you ever,
ever
touch her again, motherfucker," Dominique snarled, his face contorted like a rabid dog.

Zander squirmed half-heartedly, but Dominique had him.  "Fuck you, pig," Zander spat.

"How 'bout me and you go for a ride?" Dominique said his tone full of menace.

The two men stared evilly at each other for what seemed like eternity.  Tears streamed down Mary Jane's face as she waited for Dominique to hurt him.  That's certainly what it seemed like his intentions were.  Everything was changing.  Right then, she knew it.  Her life was turning upside down again that very minute.

Finally, Dominique unhanded him.  "Get out of here," he demanded malevolently.

For once, Zander didn't argue.

As soon as he was gone, Mary Jane sunk onto one of the stools at the counter and dropped her face onto her arms to weep.  Dominique came up behind her and rubbed her back comfortingly.

"I'm gonna call him in, get him picked up," Dominique said.  He all the sudden sounded the voice of calm when seconds ago he'd seemed like an animal.

Her head shot up and she saw him reaching for the radio clipped to his shoulder.

"Dominique, no!  Please, no.  I don't know what in the hell I'll do if he gets arrested.  He'll just go home, I promise.  Please don't."

He studied her for just a moment then sighed.  "Don't ever mention this again, Mary Jane.  I'll just go follow him, make sure he makes it without hurting anyone, alright?"

She leapt up and threw her arms around him.  His arms instinctively encircled her waist.

"Thank you," she whispered against his ear.  Then he slipped out the door and disappeared.

***

Mary Jane was exhausted when she finally left work at seven p.m. and picked the kids up from daycare.  She felt horrible that they'd been with sitters for so long.  At the same time she was unbelievably angry with her husband who'd been home all day preferring to get hammered then be with his kids and save the family money.  Plus, he'd once again jeopardized her employment.  Something had to change.  He couldn't keep doing this to them.

When they pulled into the driveway, it surprised her to find his truck missing.  Apprehension began to build inside her as she wondered if he'd come home earlier when Dominique had followed him.  And if so, why wasn't he there a few short hours later?  An alarm sounded in her mind.

The sitter had fed the kids supper, but she got them inside and situated with snacks in the kitchen.  Once they were momentarily content, she called one of the waitresses from Layman's lunch who was off the following day and offered her hours to her co-worker.  Her stress and tension was at an all-time high.  She had a feeling a situation was brewing that would prevent her from making it to work the following day.  So she was relieved when her co-worker agreed to take her shift.  One thing at least, she didn't have to worry about.

After they ate their snacks and filled her in about their days, Mary Jane gave the children baths and put them to bed.  Once she returned to the lonely quiet of the living room, she felt riddled with anxiety.  She knew she should just go to bed; she was certainly weary to the bones.  But, she sensed that they'd reached a point where something
had
to happen.  The situation had to progress.  So she sat down on the couch, switched on the TV, and waited.

She only waited a matter of minutes.

Zander slammed in the door and she could smell the pungent scent of whiskey from across the room.  She'd never known him to take so much as a sip of anything other than beer.  She had no idea what to expect from a whiskey bender, but she could guess that it would be terrible.

He stormed toward her so quickly and angrily that she scurried back on the couch pulling her legs up against her, as a child would do to escape a monster under the bed.  But her monster was very real, and he reached down, laced his fingers into her hair, and yanked her savagely to her feet.

She began bawling instantly, seeing him so far past any level of anger she'd ever known from him in the past.  He looked insane in the eyes, so deformed by fury she scarcely recognized him.

"You got something going on with that cop?" he screamed, shaking her so violently her teeth clattered together.  She became panicked that he would wake the kids, but didn't dare tell him to be quiet.

"No Zander!  Of course not!  Baby, please!" she wept, begging him, trying to break through to the man he was underneath all of this.

"I don't believe you!"

"Pleeeeease!" she pleaded desperately.  "Zander, he's a police officer and you grabbed me in front of him!  What was he supposed to do?"

Zander roared.  "He's supposed to mind his own goddamn business!"  He shook her again.  "I EVER catch you talking to that sum bitch again, and I will fucking KILL YOU!"

Before she saw it coming, he drew back and slammed his fist into her left eye.  She sprawled at lightning speed to the floor.  The hardwood was cool against her face.  As unconsciousness closed in, she was vaguely aware of Jessie's feet standing in the living room doorway and the sound of her wailing, Zander's heavy footsteps running across the living room, and the screen door slamming shut.

Then darkness.

***

She kept her back to the counter as Dominique slid up to it and roosted on a stool.  She'd been preparing herself for this but still wasn't quite ready.  Her heart fluttered and beads of sweat shone across her forehead.  Finally she spun to face him with the coffee pot.

As soon as he laid eyes on her, a look of pure rage turned his face dark.

"What happened?" he said in a voice barely above a whisper.  As though if he were to speak up, he would shout.

"Oh, dummy me, I slipped in the shower and caught my eye on the facet on the way down."  She smiled sweetly.  "Four a.m. is just too early for me to think straight."

Even though she'd had her day off to hide away before returning to work, she knew her eye still looked horrible.  An angry black and purple swollen bruise surrounded her eye and marred the side of her face.

"Don't lie to me," he said.

She cocked her head to the side, trying hard to keep it together.  It had been ridiculous to think he'd believe her.  As if he weren't an accomplished police officer.

As if he weren't her soul mate.

"I'm not lying, Dominique."  She dropped her voice.  "Please, just drop it, OK?"

He sipped his coffee and never took his eyes off her the whole time he was in the diner.  He openly stared, seeming to fester in the rage that colored his cheeks.  She tried to make small talk with him in between waiting on other customers, but he would have none of it.  When he had to go, he approached the exit and motioned with his head for her to follow.  She timidly met him at the door.

He caressed her face ever so gently.  "You tell your
shower facet
that the next time I see a bruise on you…  I'll kill him."

Then he walked out the door, the familiar jingling of the bells sounding eerie to her that time.

Chapter 8

S
he couldn't have been unconscious for more than a few seconds.  And she didn't think it was the blow that knocked her out.  Certainly he hadn't hit her that hard, right?  It was hitting her head on the floor paired with stress and exhaustion that had momentarily taken her under.  That was all.  It wasn't as bad as it seemed.

But when she did come to, she hauled herself up unsteadily and ran to sweep Jessie into arms.  She then turned to collapse onto the couch and mother and daughter came undone together.

Zander did not return that night, nor had she heard from him since.  Not. One. Word.  He had never even come close to hitting her before.  She knew he didn't mean it.  He'd drank whiskey and gotten the complete wrong idea about a customer from her job.  It had simply been a recipe for disaster on one hell of a bad day. 
He didn't mean it.

Still, a reckoning would have to come for his actions, wouldn't it?  Could they overcome this?  Should she even try?  Maybe counseling.  Well, definitely counseling, she'd have to insist.  Or maybe…  Maybe he wasn't planning on coming back.

After work she picked up the kids from daycare and went home, the place she'd come to dread returning to.  She was a nervous wreck making the trip across town, wondering if he'd be there.  But, she found the driveway still empty.  Though she was scared to death to see him, she almost wished he would've been there.  Again, she found herself in a situation that
had
to move forward, one way or another.  The anxiety was in obsessively wondering
how
that would happen.  The strange thing was that, when it was just a matter of refusing to hold down a job, and drinking too much, she hadn't had as much trouble considering tossing him out.

But with the threat of violence introduced, she felt exceedingly more cautious.

She put all her heart and mind into focusing on the kids and not thinking about the situation at hand.  They played outside until dinner, and then after they made crafts together at the kitchen table.  Eventually she put them to bed and then sat on the couch, slowly twirling her cell phone in her hand.

She checked it again, as she'd done dozens of times in the nearly forty eight hours since he'd left.  Checking for a text or call she may have missed.  Of course, there were none.  She pulled up Zander's name in the contacts and contemplated dialing it.  But, she decided for the thousandth time not to.  Instead, she dejectedly went to bed, alone.

It was the middle of the night when the knocking on the door woke her.

She glanced at the clock and noted there was still an hour left before it would be time for her alarm.  She stared into the darkness feeling foggy headed and confused.  Maybe she'd dreamt it.  But then it came again.  A rather hard pounding. 

Mary Jane threw back the thin afghan that covered her and leapt out of bed.  It couldn't be Zander, he'd have a key.  Her heart pounded.  This couldn't be good.  She raced from her bedroom, hoping to get to the door before the children were woken by the knocking.  When she threw it open, her pounding heart nearly stopped to find Dominique standing on the front stoop, silhouetted by the moon.

"Dominique," she gasped.  "What are you doing here?"

He looked into her eyes and then in an uncharacteristic move, he averted his eyes awkwardly.  He seemed afraid to speak.

"Dominique?" she said again, urgency rising in her voice.  "What is it?"  Her heart resumed hammering.  Somehow she already knew what he was going to say.

"Mary Jane," he said softly, taking a step toward her.  "There…  There's been an accident."

He jumped forward to catch her as her knees gave out.

***

It poured rain the day she buried her husband.

Her mother and father flanked her at the graveside service, holding her up.  A friend from work kept her kids at home.  She couldn't bear to bring them to see their daddy laid to rest.

She didn't absorb a single word of the service.  She could only stare unblinking at the shimmering closed black casket, decked with a gorgeous array of white lilies.  She couldn't quite wrap her mind the fact that Zander's body was in there…  Too badly damaged to be viewed.

There weren't a great many mourners at the service.  Maybe it was the rain.  Or maybe it was just that he had burnt so many bridges over the years.  And too many people had seen the bruise that still showed on her face.  Frankly, it wasn't a good time for him to die.  It would've been nice if at least he could've had a chance to make it right first.  That thought made her weep.

Somehow she got home after the service for a small wake.  She didn't recall getting there, but she imagined her parents had brought her.  Visitors roamed in and out, bringing food and condolences.  None of her children seemed to fully gather what was going on.  She was thankful for that.

Dominique appeared at the wake, and she'd noticed him at the service as well.  Ironically, he'd been the first responder who discovered Zander's truck wrapped around a tree.  And after the ME took Zander away from the scene and the paperwork was filed, he'd insisted on being the one to deliver the awful news to Mary Jane.  When she'd calmed down that first night, he'd explained to her that Zander's blood alcohol limit had been eight times the legal limit and he'd already been dead when Dominique happened upon him.  After the ME investigation the next day, they didn't even do an autopsy.  The physical evidence was compelling.  Nobody needed anymore answers.  Not even Mary Jane. 

In the end, Zander had made a choice.

So, it was appropriate for Officer Flame to come and pay his respects to the family, and to his old friend and her children.  But it felt strange to have Dominique in the house again.  The place where she'd lived and loved with her husband.  The place where Dominique had informed her that he was dead.  He seemed to pick up on her discomfort and graciously bowed out after only a few minutes.

She spent most of the wake sitting by the kitchen window staring out into the rain.  One or the other of the children perched on her lap at practically all times.  They seemed to know that their mommy needed comfort without having a clue why.  She hadn't even thought about how she was going to handle telling them just yet.  It had crossed her mind to just say nothing at all unless one of them asked.

Maybe they'd just forget him.  Like he'd never been at all.

It was late in the evening when the last visitor hugged her and said goodbye, leaving her alone with just the kids and her parents.  Her father took the kids in the back of the house to play with toys in the twins' bedroom.  Her mother pulled a chair up next to Mary Jane.  She put a gentle arm across her daughter's shoulders.

"Why don’t you and the kids come home with us for a few days?  Until you feel better?"

The kind offer provoked another torrent of tears.  Her mother's heart broke, and she pulled the wounded creature against her, holding Mary Jane tight.  "I…  I can't, Mom.  I can't leave here right now."

Marsha Anderson nodded.  "I understand, darling.  Is there anything I can do then?  Would you like me to take the kids home with us and give you a little time to yourself?"

Mary Jane looked into her eyes.  "Yes, Mom.  Would you do that?  I don't want them seeing me like this.  And I'm not ready to tell them yet."

Marsha studied Mary Jane worriedly.  "OK, honey.  But are you sure you'll be OK alone?"

"I'm sure," she replied glumly.

"And you'll call if you need us?  Dad can come and get you
anytime,
you know that, right?"

"Yes, Mama.  Thank you.  I love you."

The two women shared another long embrace.  Moments later, her mother had the children packed and loaded in their car.  Mary Jane forlornly watched their headlights disappear as they drove off down the street.