ANGEL BLUE [1]

LEAD 10: salt is served

      “Is that a gun?” Shoshana points to the silver Desert Eagle in its leather holster.

      Beth’s done a marvellous job to keep her youngest children away from the harsh reality of the force and she intends to keep Shoshana and Nathalia away from the clutches of the NYPD. The risk to be an Officer is at least 75% fatalities depending on what precinct you’re situated in, Beth’s grateful that her eldest is on the Desk Squad but the mother frequently worries about me since I’ve been alleviated to Detective.

      Out of courtesy, I turn on my side so my holster is out of view of the children. Beth doesn’t tell the two youngest about their father’s work, only that he’s the boss of police in Manhattan. They ask questions, but only get harsh looks in response. Banks’ doesn’t fret about her father’s security, but I do―especially with Angel Blue, no law enforcement officer is safe regardless of their precinct or title.

      “Thank you for having me over,” I hug Beth quickly. 

      “Oh Akira you’re no trouble at all, keep my girl in check okay?” Beth gives me a warm smile but her eyes flick down to my gun, perhaps she’s almost as paranoid as me about the force.

      Banks and I walk to the precinct; it’s not far, but is far enough for us to work up a sweat as we push through the doors of the Seventh Precinct. Already, at 10 A.M. the Desk Squad are in action taking calls and filing paperwork that comes in from patrol Officers and other means of staff.

      On my desk is a rainbow sombrero, Snag’s sombrero. His emergency-keep-my-sanity-or-I’ll-perform-an-autopsy-on-you hat. I twirl my leather chair slowly and sit down. I lift up the sombrero to see the exhumation order that’s been officially passed and signed by Snag. I recline in my chair and heave a sigh of relief. I still didn’t understand the sombrero.

      I flip the front of the brim to see a yellow sticky note attached to the material. I carefully peel it off and read it; it’s a message from Snag: wear this for the next 24 hours as punishment. Have a splendid day – Doc. Edward Snaginsky.  

      My brow twitches, does he really want me to be embarrassed to death? I suppose I didn’t have to wear it. I mean, Snag’s stuck with Joseph in the morgue most of the day and it’s not like he’ll come to the precinct especially to check if I’m serving my ‘punishment’. Well, knowing Snag and his persistent ways, he’ll probably burst in with a film crew and make a documentary titled as, The Adventures of Snaginsky: 100 Ways to Embarrass a Detective [PART 1 of MANY].

      I shudder at the thought, I can actually imagine Snag pulling a stunt like that off, and it’s not welcoming. Thankfully, I’m saved by my phone vibrating on my desk to alert me that someone, probably Sam, is calling me. I place my feet on my desk and shuffle my mouse for a few moments before retrieving my phone.

      I tap to answer, “Prat.”

      “I really wish you’d stop calling me that,” Sam’s voice is louder and I smell the distinct odour of priceless vanilla lattes waft through the air of the Desk Squad. I look up to see Sam standing in front of my desk with his phone to his ear in one hand and a latte in the other. We simultaneously hang up. “I’m surprised you answered my call.”

      “It’s a one-time thing,” I lower my legs to kick Banks’ shin, causing her snickers to quieten. “Don’t expect me to pick up in the future.”

      “I’ll take your word for it,” Sam takes a sip of his latte and digs around in the pocket of his pants to produce his dad’s tie. He tosses it to me and takes a long sip of his vanilla imported concoction. I still want to know where he gets them from, I can’t even find descent coffee in New York. “You’ll need it for where we’re going.”