Read Toronto Tales 1 - Cop Out Online
Authors: KC Burn
Toronto Tales 1 - Cop Out (8 page)
Kurt stepped closer and followed as the orderly led them through the reception area into a ward.
Some of the residents—primarily elderly—reached out to touch them as they walked by, others nodded sightlessly to invisible visitors, and still others spoke in eerie mumbles. It was astonishingly like walking through a prison, but these poor souls had been imprisoned by infirm bodies and unraveling brains.
They were led into a clean but spartan room with a single occupant in a recliner-style chair beside the bed. The woman in the chair bore no resemblance to the man Kurt had known.
“Hi, Mrs. Kaminski. It’s me, Davy. I brought Ben’s partner from work. His name is Kurt. We’re going to sit here and visit for a bit.” They settled into the two visitor chairs.
Mrs. Kaminski’s slack face gave no indication she’d heard a word. Her fingers weaved arcane patterns in the blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
Davy continued to speak in a soothing monotone, and Kurt assumed it was similar to what he’d seen Ben do. What a shame Ben never introduced Davy to his mom before she lost all her faculties. Perhaps Davy’s voice would have brought her some peace.
Davy’s head swiveled between Kurt and Mrs. Kaminski, pain and panic visible in his eyes. Without knowing why it was the right thing to do, Kurt placed a hand on Davy’s shoulder. “Tell her what she wants to hear.”
Davy’s shoulders heaved as he drew in a few deep breaths. When he finally looked at Kurt, his eyes were wet, but he wasn’t crying. Kurt couldn’t imagine how hard that must have been, but two months after Ben’s death, time was starting to scab over Davy’s wounds.
“That’s enough for today, I think,” Kurt said.
“How did you know I should pretend?”
Kurt shrugged. “They said she didn’t have good days anymore, and you told me Ben hadn’t seen any lucid moments recently. Stood to reason that whatever was happening wasn’t going to last long.”
outside, Kurt breathed deeply, the smog-laced humid air refreshing after an hour inside Sunshine Manors.
Davy looked completely wrung out, and Kurt didn’t blame him one bit. The visit would have been hard enough without Mrs. K. mistaking Davy for Ben.
“Twice a month. He used to visit more, but once she stopped recognizing him, he wasn’t sure the visits helped.”
And even if Ben had been a dick about Davy, those visits had to have been painful. Kurt inhaled again. He’d seen worse in the line of duty, but it was still depressing, especially since there was little he could do to help.
“What about you?”
“I’ll try to keep to the same schedule.”
Kurt wasn’t surprised. Davy’s soft heart wouldn’t let him do any
less, even if it had taken him this long to steel himself for the first visit. “If you want me to come with you, let me know.”
Davy bit his lip and nodded, but he didn’t say anything. The drive home was silent, and afterwards, Kurt sought out his rambunctious, noisy family at Finn’s.
morning, a huge dark-haired man followed Inspector Nadar out of his office toward Kurt’s desk.
“Kurt, this is Simon Trent, your new partner. Simon, this is Kurt O’Donnell.” The inspector pointed at Ben’s desk. “That’s your desk. Kurt can show you around the rest.”
Kurt stood and held out his hand to shake. Amazingly, he had to look up at Simon. And the man was big, not fat, just big. Probably four or five inches taller than Kurt’s own six feet.
Oh, thank God. Simon didn’t ask about the last statement, so Nadar must have filled him in about Kurt’s injuries.
“I’m sorry about your partner, man.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Kurt refrained from further comment.
Increasingly, he had a hard time reconciling the partner he thought he’d known—the partner he’d lost in more ways than one—with the man he was coming to know and possibly dislike. Made him feel disloyal, which Kurt hated, so he didn’t want to dwell on it.
“
to break for lunch?” Simon asked a few hours later. Kurt peered at him, wondering if this was yet another attempt to coddle the injured man, but then Simon’s stomach let out a loud rumble. Anyone that big had to stoke the engine regularly.
“S
O
made you transfer from the RCMP?” Law enforcement
was law enforcement, but there was a certain mystique about the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, even if they rarely rode horses anymore.
“I got married a couple of years ago. Jen, my wife, wanted to move back to the city, and I wanted a change, so I applied to the police force here and in Vancouver.”
Simon speared another roasted potato. “No, but Montreal was out, because I don’t speak French, and I was stationed in Halifax. A move’s a move, right?”
“It’s good. Faster paced, though. We’re getting settled in, and Jen started her new job this week too. We don’t know many people, though. Hey, did you want to come over for dinner sometime? If you’ve got a wife or girlfriend, bring her along.”
If he needed company, he could probably convince one of his brothers or Davy to come along, but the offer melted away tension Kurt didn’t realize he was carrying around. Simon had already opened himself up to Kurt more in the past few hours than Ben had done in three years.
Simon smiled, pleased by Kurt’s response. He’d known Simon for half a day and already knew the dynamic of their partnership would be different than his previous one. With Ben so much older and experienced, they’d fallen into a novice-mentor relationship, but with Simon, it would be a partnership on much more even footing.
was hell. A month of heat-wave-related violence and murders kept Simon and Kurt hopping—lots of overtime and not as much progress as either of them hoped. Kurt had been following the investigation of the guy who’d killed Ben, but they weren’t any closer to any kind of arrest or sting. He owed it to Ben, and himself, to put that fucker behind bars. Unfortunately, as soon as they realized who was behind it, the investigation had moved out of homicide. Not that Kurt was under any illusions—his boss would never have allowed Kurt to remain involved in the investigation.
Closing this case would be beneficial for Davy… help him heal a little more. Kurt had a chance to take Simon up on his offer for dinner only twice, and visiting Davy had been reduced to once about every ten days or so. Maybe Davy was already doing better. Last time they spoke, Davy was supposed to meet up with some of his old friends, including Jon. Kurt had been so pleased.
“Whew. I think we can knock off for the night, eh?” Simon leaned back into his chair. “Want to grab a drink, unwind a bit? There’s bound to be a game on we can watch.”
Kurt checked his watch. It was too late to visit Davy anyway. Also too late to take Simon by Finn’s. If they went in now, they’d be there all night, and Kurt needed a decent night’s sleep. But he wasn’t quite ready to go home to his empty, lifeless apartment. Tomorrow, though, there were two games on TV. If nothing came up, and it better not or he might commit homicide himself, he could go by Davy’s.
with an assortment of snacks from the local convenience store, Kurt was prepared for the double-header. It was the last weekend in August and the heat wave had finally broken, giving the police a bit of a breather.
His brothers had been surprised he wasn’t going to watch it with them, which he usually would if he had the day off during one. Ian, especially, had been annoyed and tried to invite himself along with Kurt’s plans. Kurt managed to put him off, but lying about it bothered him. Revealing the secret Ben guarded so zealously seemed disloyal somehow. Davy wasn’t ready for his family anyway. They’d spoken a couple of times about family, and Davy was alternately wary and fascinated by how many people were in the O’Donnell family. Having spent years just himself and Ben, with Sandra and Mrs. Kaminski their only living relatives, Kurt didn’t blame him. Times like this, when one of his siblings harassed him, Kurt imagined it might not be as lonely as he usually assumed.
Good. Davy’s car was in the drive, so Kurt wasn’t going to have to go back to the noisy pub. He loved the noise and the hubbub, but he was coming to appreciate the peace of Davy’s home. He should have called first, but his work so frequently interfered with plans, he liked that Davy didn’t mind his surprise visits.
Knocking and pressing his finger on the doorbell availed him nothing. He was unpleasantly reminded of the first couple of times he visited Davy where his arrival had shaken Davy out of his depressed state. He dropped the bags of snacks and peered through the window, cupping his hands around his eyes to cut down on the late summer glare. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Davy could be in the shower. He patted his hip reflexively for his weapon, but he wasn’t on fucking duty. Still, there was no reason to assume the worst. There were no signs of forced entry. Hell, the man could have gone for a walk. The need to protect Davy had been strong from the very first day, over and above the expectation that came with his job. Something about protecting Davy made him feel a hundred feet tall and assuaged the frustration of his family treating him like a kid; he wasn’t going to stop unless he had to.
Then there was the crushing disappointment he might not be able to spend the day in the cool comfort of Davy’s place, catching up with him and watching the game. Reminded him of the time in high school when his parents grounded him, making him miss out on the biggest party of the year. Why hanging out with Davy should make him feel that way, he didn’t know, but he hadn’t spent a lot of time cultivating friendships outside of work or family, which might explain it.
Maybe Davy was out in the yard. He’d seen the overgrown jungle from the kitchen window, but never commented on it. Davy had other things to worry about besides the state of his backyard, but perhaps he was tackling it today.
The tall privacy fencing didn’t surprise Kurt any, given Ben’s obvious paranoia, but he was surprised the door to the yard gaped wide open. The expanse of grass was a good bit bigger than he’d realized. It wasn’t often homes had this much property this close to the downtown core. Davy told him they’d bought the place about a year after he and Ben got together, and they were one of the few on the street who retained the large yard, instead of tearing down the house and rebuilding with a much larger one. Kurt approved of the decision; Davy’s house had a lot more character than the enormous new homes.
On the patio, four chairs and a table sat, months of disuse obvious from their grimy state. After a small patch of grass, the jungle began. Right at the demarcation, a large green plastic bin sat beside a stack of weathered bushel baskets. Kurt approached, and saw Davy on his knees amidst the rows and rows of tomato plants, a half-full bushel basket to his right. His back was to Kurt, and his shoulders were shaking.
Kurt walked around the bin, a few dried leaves crunching under his feet. His approach didn’t go unnoticed, as Davy’s back stiffened, and he turned toward Kurt.
“Jeez, Davy, what happened?” Davy’s shirt was streaked bright red, and the sight made his heart pound and reach again for a weapon that wasn’t there. Kurt skidded around and knelt before Davy, inspecting his shirt. “Where are you bleeding?”
Oh. Tomatoes. Kurt’s cheeks flamed, probably about the same color as the few round, ripe tomatoes in the basket. A cool, clammy dampness seeped into his pants, and he stared down at the tomatoes he’d kneeled in—and squished. Ugh.
“And tomatoes are that upsetting, are they?” They did feel pretty gross, though. Maybe he’d cry too. But it had been a long time since he’d seen Davy this upset, and it constricted his heart like he failed somehow. Then again, most people seemed to agree there were lots of bad days in the first year while the wound healed. It had only been about three months since Ben died—he couldn’t expect miracles.
