Pole Dance (36 page)

"You didn't learn to treat women from me, pal," Frank said softly, meaningfully. "This shit ain't cool, Jake. Heard you've been taking the good ones and treating them like trash then taking the trashy ones and treating them like they're something you've paid to have." He shook his head. "It ain't right, Jake."

"Since when is my sex life any of your business, Frank?"

"When I can't get any because we share a last name, shithead."

"You not getting any is not my problem."

"It
is
your problem, Jake, if what I'm hearing is true." Frank rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. "How can someone so fucking smart be so fucking dumb?" he mumbled. "Let me see if I can explain it, yeah?"

"Give it your best shot but don't expect me to buy into whatever the fuck it is that you're selling." Jake stood, pulled his jeans back up to his hips, before beginning to put the tools away but stopped all movement at the sound of Frank's tense voice.

"You think it's a coincidence a woman's pussy is in a straight line with her heart? There's a reason, man. A woman, a real woman, can't just let a guy "do" her then walk away. She's not made that way. I know a lot of guys use love to get sex and a lot of women use sex to get love, but you aren't doing either, Jakey." Frank sighed. "When it comes right down to it, bro, you're just using your pussy-of-the-night instead of your hand to get yourself off--not even recognizing that the person you're using is a
person
, not even valuing that they're human. Not even valuing yourself."

Jake could hear the birds calling good night in the trees. He lifted his eyes to the sky as it begin its slow display of sunset. He waited, knowing Frank wasn't done and his speech would only be prolonged if Jake continued to interrupt. Once on a path, Frank always continued on that path, even the verbal kind, until he reached his destination. Jake only hoped this was going to be one of Frank's short speeches.

"I know I'm not saying this right." Frank rubbed his hand over his head, rubbing his palm lightly over the short bristles, a move Jake knew he did when he was frustrated. "Remember, Natalie?"

"Yeah, I remember Nat." She was the girl Frank was with all during high school. Sweet, lanky with a dark bob of hair, Natalie always had a smile for everyone but especially for Frank. He was her hero and everyone knew it.

I thought the sun rose and set on her, Jake. My day didn't start until I saw her, talked to her. Her voice, Christ, her voice alone was all I needed when everything else was going to shit around us." Jake remembered the time he was talking about. Their dad had gotten bad, really bad with his drinking. State had pulled his license after the third DUI and he lost his contractor's license when it came to light that he had been cutting corners on the jobs he had taken, if he did them at all.

"She was, outside of you, my world. She kept me focused on getting through school and getting us out of the hellhole we were stuck in. I don't know where we would've been, Jake, if not for Natalie." Frank gazed up at the sky though Jake knew he didn't see it lost as he was in the memory.

"Loved her, Jake." His voice was just a rough whisper in the soft of the early evening. "Loved her enough to listen when she called a halt to our make-out sessions that steamed up the windows of the Camry. Loved her enough to only touch her over her bra instead of under her bra like my hands were aching to do. Loved her enough to pay attention when she told me that we could wait, wait until it was the right time for both of us. Wait until we were both ready, when we knew enough and felt comfortable enough to be together. Really together." Frank's voice stopped and Jake saw him rub his eyes as he turned away. "I loved her, Jake, but valued her more. Valued her as my girl, as my friend. Valued her for the person she was and the woman she was becoming. Saw the value of myself in her eyes, too. She made me want to be a better person, Jake. A better brother, a better son, a better man."

Jake heard Frank turn towards him on another sigh, though Jake didn't, couldn't look at Frank's face.

"These women that you treat with such disrespect, Jake, could be a Natalie to someone else. A person that could be valued by someone, that could be loved by someone." Frank stopped and the quiet was there for a couple of seconds before he continued in a hoarser, quieter voice. "You lower their value when you use them instead of your hand. But you lower your own when you use them instead of a tissue to catch your come. You could be a man that is valued by someone, bro'. But not if you keep treating them like that. You only dishonor yourself by not getting to know your fuck buddies as people first."

Again, the quiet descended for a couple of beats before Frank turned to go into the house. "Think on it, Jakey, yeah?"

'Yeah, I'll think on it.' Jake had said to himself. His brother wasn't big on advice and never brought Natalie up. Ever. So this was a big deal, this talk, this time.

Natalie was lost to the Stanton brothers due to her parent's bitter divorce in the middle of her senior year. She was forced to move to Illinois with her mom and Frank never got to see her again. Nat and Frank tried to keep it together with long letters and brief expensive phone calls, but the shit storm that was Jake and Frank's home life got worse and Frank eventually had to let her go in the struggle to keep the two brothers alive and together.

Jake thought about what Frank said, thought about it a lot. Both then and, especially, now.

He was crushed to know that Caitlin could pick up on a vibe so many years after the fact. He felt even worse that he had taken the coward's way in omitting what he had done to Sara so long ago when he had tried to give Caitlin an explanation . The look on Sara's face today reminded him of the hurt on her face when he had snubbed her the day after a drunken but vigorous coupling at a Frat party years ago. At the time, he had been relieved that she hadn't felt the need to talk to him, confront him about it. And the memory of Sara soon faded and she became another girl he'd used, at least until she hooked up with Dale. Then it became a struggle for them both to ignore each other whenever Dale had brought her to the different parties and events where they were thrown together.

Jake hadn't say anything to Dale and hoped Sara never had, either.

He nestled his nose into Caitlin's hair and tightened the arm he had around her waist grateful for all the beauty he had found in her. And grateful that he remembered what Frank had said, the wisdom Jake had finally grown into and finally understood so long after that talk in the soft summer evening.

"Frank would've loved you, Cait," he whispered against her as he drew the covers up higher over the two of them and finally began his own slow slide into sleep.

*.*.*.*.*

What've you got for me boys?" Ram called out as he hit the bullpen.

"Got Hank in the interrogation room. Picked him up earlier this morning at the gym. Jeff and Tim are in with him now," Ted Pierson, another detective called from his desk in the farthest corner.

"Anything?"

"Not last I heard."

Ram made his way to the interrogation room and poked his head in, using the movement of his finger to silently ask Jeff to come out into the hall.

"What do you have?"

"Nothing so far, Chief."

"What do you mean, 'nothing so far'?"

"We picked him up," Jeff glanced at his watch, "about forty minutes ago and he hasn't said anything."

"What do you mean, 'hasn't said anything'?"

"Jesus, Chief, just what I said." Jeff started stroking his tie and adjusting his cuffs. "We brought him in, sat him down to talk, brought up the different name and the New Mexico thing and he said…" Ram watched as Tim shrugged his shoulders before continuing, "Nothing. Not a word. We ask. He just stares. We ask again. No response. He hasn't lawyered up or anything. He just sits there like a bump on a log. It's kind of creepy."

"Where are we with the search warrant?"

They both heard the shout and ran the few feet back to the interrogation room. Ram threw open the door and saw Hank standing, leaning towards Tim sitting across from him at table. Hank's chair was on its side.

"Said, sit the fuck down, Hank," Tim was shouting but the towering beefy man seemed not to hear him.

Jeff made a move to enter the room going for the chair but Ram put his hand on his arm and shook his head.

Ram walked into the room going to the short end of the table, never taking his eyes off Hank, who looked as if he was in a world of his own, not reacting to the other men in the room--just remaining focused on Tim.

"We need you to sit down, Hank," Ram said in a soft, firm voice. There was no response from Hank, not a flicker of an eyelash, not a muscle moving at Ram's words. It was as if he was frozen.

Tim slowly began to stand and Hank immediately reacted grabbing Tim by his lapels and yanking him across the table. When Tim's face was about a foot away, Hank drew back his hand and began to slap Tim on his face and head. Tim had gripped Hank's wrist that was holding him and was trying to twist away. Tim's feet were off the floor and he couldn't get his knees up onto the table.

Jeff didn't stay by the door but ran around the table, his shoes slipping on the linoleum, as he made his way to the towering blonde man. He grabbed at the hand that was assaulting Tim but it was like he wasn't even there. The big man's hand continued to forcefully slap Tim both forehand and backhand, dragging Jeff along with his hand movement.

The sound of Hank's palm as it struck was loud in the small room, but seem to have no affect on Tim's assailant.

Ram pulled his gun and flipped the safety off before aiming it directly at Hank.

"Stand down, Hank."

"I said, stand down, Hank."

"Stand down, Ezekiel," Ram said changing the name to see if elicited a response. He watched as the man that he knew as Hank slowly turned his head in Ram's direction. Catching sight of the gun pointed at him, he groaned loudly as he released his hold on Tim. Tim dropped to the table top before sliding down to the floor.

Jeff, still hanging onto Hank's arm and tried to twist it behind Hank's back but Hank simply shook him off as if he was a pesky mosquito. As soon as Jeff fell away, Hank began moving towards Ram.

"Stop right there, Ezekiel," Ram instructed and the large man stopped.

"You are under arrest for assaulting a police officer. I need for you to kneel on the ground with your hands behind your head." Ram's eyes never wavered from Ezekiel/Hank's and he watched as the big man bent and got to his knees before slowly, slowly putting his hands on top of his head. Ram nodded at Jeff and watched as Jeff read Hank his Miranda rights while he put the cuffs on their now docile prisoner. As soon as the cuffs were in place, Ram backed towards the door and yelled over his shoulder for paramedics and escorts, never removing his gaze from their prisoner and keeping his gun firmly aimed on him.

Hank was escorted by four officers to begin processing but Ram didn't relax until their prisoner was down the hall. Ram put the safety back on and holstered his gun as he moved to Tim Bell, still sprawled on the floor unconscious. Ram could see the bruising and swelling had already started, turning the good-looking detective into a caricature of himself. There was blood seeping from one ear which meant that Bell had taken either one or more good hits on it and sustained enough trauma to burst his eardrum.

"How we doing with the Paramedics?" Ram yelled as he straightened up from Bell's body.

"Dispatcher says they're about 4 minutes out," someone called back.

Jeff Trusdale came back into the room and put a hand to Ram's back. "You okay, Chief?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," Ram replied wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Was it me or was that some weird shit?"