Roper gets into his face, saying all sorts of shit, and he's backing this guy out of the alley. The other homeboys are gone. They saw the shit going down and they flew. So Roper finally gets the poor sonofabitch out of there, and he comes back into the alley, all happy now. He's got this wicked grin on his face, and I don't know what's happening next but I know it's not going to be pretty.

'And he's a big guy. LAPD beautiful. Tall, dark, built — the kind of cop straight women just pray will show up to their calls. So he strolls over to Claudia, unzipping his fly. He grins at me, an evil fucking grin, and he says, 'You can watch this or go back to the car like a good little girl.' '

Frank stopped. She watched a man lean into a bronze sedan, talking to the driver. He wore a gray suit and carried a briefcase. His hair was sandy and thinning though he looked trim and fairly young.

'I knew that was a defining moment. Either I was in with Roper or I wasn't. I could just see my whole future. It was like a long highway with a fork in the middle. On the one side, I was down. I'd go along with him. I'd be part of the team. What was happening was ugly, but that's the way it was. I'd seen it in my own neighborhood growing up. That was just the way the world was. Nothing I could do about it.

'On the other road, I was alone. There was just me in the middle of this goddamn highway, no team, nobody. And I wanted to be part of the team. I remember thinking I'd always been alone and that it would be so nice to be part of something, just once. I'd busted my ass to get where I was and I didn't want to lose it. That other road was calling me and God, I wanted to be on it.'

The man stuck his hand into the car, seeming to shake the driver's hand.

'I remember I just kind of looked at my feet. That alley was filthy. Busted bottles and beer caps, cigarette packs, tossed garbage. And it smelled like rotten vegetables and piss and wine. I thought I was going to throw up. Roper was saying something to Claudia and I saw her spit on him. Goddamn. He had her by the hair and he yanked her head back so hard I thought he was going to break her neck. And then I just snapped. It was so fucking weird — I literally saw red. I slammed him with my stick, I mean with everything I had and that fucker went down. And son-of a-bitch, I was excited by that. He looked up at me, surprised at first and with just this trace of fear, and I loved it. Then he got pissed and I got scared — well, not really scared, but just incredibly amped and wired and wanting to take him on. I was ready to kill the sonofabitch. I understand how that happens. I understand why people do what they do out there.

'He reached for his baton, but I'd fucked his arm up and he couldn't use it, so I let him grab it with his left. I figured Roper was crazy and I'd rather have him swinging his stick at me than pulling his gun. In fact, he told me I was going to die. Told him I'd take him out with me. I was ready for him. God, I was ready. It was almost like sex. But better, more intense. I was flying. It was like something got released in me, a trip- wire. We circled around that fucking alley for hours it seemed like. He connected once on me, hurt like a motherfucker, but I must've jumped quick enough that it didn't do any damage. I was trying to work him back to the street and I was getting tired. The edge was wearing off and I realized what a stupid thing I'd done. Taking on the field training officer, not even before our dinner break. Thought I'd make the record for shortest time served on job by a female. But I was committed. I'd chosen my road.'

She took a resonant breath, studied Clay for a minute.

'Saw a guy today, used to be a banger. Now he's into God and saving kids. Asked him if he'd heard anything on the street about who offed Placa. He said no, that he knew her.

That it was a shame she'd taken the devil's road. I told him she was a good kid, that she just hadn't had enough time to get out of the road.'

Puzzlement shadowed Frank's face.

'Thing is, that road's always there. Even if you get off it, it doesn't mean somewhere down the line you don't find yourself right back on it. And damned if you know how you got there.'

She looked out the window. The sedan was gone. A woman in a grey skirt suit and black boots walked briskly along the sidewalk. Power haircut, full leather briefcase. A lawyer? Frank wondered, on her way home? Husband, two kids, and a nanny, Frank bet, watching her until she stepped out of view. Clay had a clock that ticked quietly. Frank listened to it over the moan of a city bus. Behind her, he asked, 'Do you ever feel like you're on that road?'

'Sometimes.'

'Are you on it now?'

Below, the bus farted thick black smoke. The city was switching to electric soon. That would be good.

'I feel like I'm on the curb.'

Tic, tic, tic.

'What does the road look like from there?'

A delivery truck idled at the light. Frank thought of her father, how dark his hair had been. It was thick and curly on his arms and had tickled her face when he held her. Sometimes she'd give anything to feel that arm around her again. She closed her eyes against the window, grateful for its coolness against her forehead.

'Looks like where I've been.'

Clay let her sit with that before asking what was the best thing that happened to her that week.

She tweaked her mouth into a deprecating line.

'Had dinner with a nice lady.'

Clay's smile was warm and he urged, 'Tell me about that.'

Feeling silly, she briefly described dinner with Gail, adding, 'It was nice. She's easy to talk to. Smart. And funny. Pretty, too.'

Remembering her conversation in the car with Gail, she added, 'She keeps it real. I don't see much of that.'

'Are you going to see her again?'

Frank almost said sure, but she'd learned there were no guarantees in life.

'Probably. We run into each other in a professional capacity.'

'I meant in a personal capacity, like having dinner again.'

'Hadn't thought about it,' Frank admitted.

'Well, consider it,' Clay advised, ending their session.

As always, he left Frank with something to chew on. And as always, she was glad to be out of his office and back on the street where she knew the rules.

Chapter Sixteen

Frank cheerfully presented Claudia with another box of donuts. Sleepy and rumple-haired, she pulled a cheap robe around herself and let Frank in. The baby began crying and Gloria screamed from her bedroom. Something about jodida cops and harassment. Claudia started to make coffee, but Frank took the pot from her hand.

'No, no,' she said, exaggeratedly solicitous. 'Let me. You sit down. Have a donut.'

Half asleep, Alicia stepped into the kitchen, coming to when she saw the pink box on the table. She was the only one who liked Frank's early morning visits. She sat at the table, mooning over the unopened box. Alicia's eyes gleamed when Frank lifted the lid. The little girl examined the donuts, and maybe because she was getting more comfortable with Frank, she asked, 'Why you don't bring syrup ones like the other policia!'

Claudia hissed at her grandchild to be quiet and jerked her from the chair. Swatting her bottom, she gave the girl a push into the living room. A moment later the television blared. Her grandmother yelled at her to turn it down.

'What other policia, Claudia?'

'El negro,' she said quickly. 'He brung donuts the other day.'

Frank poured them both coffee, putting milk on the table for Claudia. Waiting until Claudia was adding the milk to her cup, she said, 'Tell me about the heroin.'

Claudia dripped milk on the table, glancing up into Frank's attentive blue eyes. She grabbed a sponge out of the sink and swiped angrily at the spill, then picked up her cup and stood with her back to the counter. Frank watched her like a snake tracking a mouse.

'Tell me about the heroin,' she repeated.

'What heroin?'

Вы читаете Street Rules
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату