Toby Neal: Blood Orchids

“That’s going to be tough. Man deserves an explanation. He can tell something’s up, something worse than the flu.”

“I’ll deal with him-but you need to keep this confidential.” She dug in the freezer, pulled out the Ziploc bag. Took the letter out, unfolded it.

“Nice smile.” Pono sat forward. He touched the photo. “Who is this sick bastard? This the reason you have an alarm on your house and a Glock under your pillow?”

“The Glock’s where it should be-in the holster hanging on the headboard.” She took a deep breath, tapped the letter. “This sick bastard is Charlie Kwon. He was my mother’s boyfriend when I was nine. He raped and molested me for 6 months. He broke up with my mom and she overdosed. That’s when I went to live with Aunty Rosario.”

“He calls you damaged goods. Bullshit-if you were damaged it’s because he did it to you. No little kid signs on for that.”

“It’s complicated.” Lei picked at her cast. “What this has done is made me realize I’m not fit to be in a relationship. That and I’m probably gonna meet up with this guy and kill him sometime soon. It’s what I do. And frankly at this point I don’t care if I go to jail for it.”

“So do you think he’s the one who’s been stalking you?”

“I think there was Jeremy Ito. The notes, the panties-have been Charlie Kwon.”

“So you were being stalked by two guys at the same time.” Pono whistled. “Popular, you.”

“Yeah, popular. What’s wrong with me that I get all the sickos?”

“Stevens likes you.”

“He’s as sick as the others if he does. I’m fucked up, damaged goods. Always have been.”

“Shut up. All I know is, you been a good partner.” He patted her shoulder.

Lei got a paper towel off the roll and honked her nose. “Thanks.”

“We got to tell the Lieutenant about this. We thought your case was closed when you took Ito down.”

Lei just shook her head, closing her eyes. Her brain didn’t seem to be functioning.

“Got a beer?” Pono asked. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.” She got up and uncapped two, set one in front of him and took a long pull off the other. He put the letter away in the bag and now he tucked it inside his jacket.

“Going to sign this into evidence,” he said, patting his pocket. “Need to lay the foundation for your defense in a future murder case.”

She wished she could smile at his ironic tone but couldn’t.

“I wish you didn’t have to-that I could just burn the damn thing,” Lei said.

“I’ll also put out a BOLO on him. Bet he’s using another name. Got a physical description?”

“I remember him as medium tall, wiry build, a good-looking mixed Chinese Filipino in his thirties. He had dark hair. Used to wear a goatee. He’d be fifteen years older now.”

“Do you want to work with a sketch artist?”

His pupils seemed to loom up in front of her, expanding into darkness as she tried to picture his face.

“No. Not now. See what you can find on him in the computer first.”

“Going to do a Temporary Restraining Order?”

“Would that keep me from assaulting him?”

“Works both ways,” Pono smiled a bit. “But it would establish the stalking as pre-existing harassment when we do catch him. Then you can press charges for the sexual abuse.”

“I don’t plan to do that. Too hard to prove and it would ruin my rep in the department. But I guess I better do the TRO.”

“I think you should press charges on the old stuff too. Think about it anyway. I’ll start the paperwork when I get back to the station.”

She nodded, sighed. “Do you miss me down there?”

“God, yes. That Jenkins is so ‘Fresh Off The Plane’ I can hardly stand being seen with him. Guy gets sunburned riding in the Crown Vic. I didn’t know that was possible.”

She laughed, more of a watery snort, took a sip of beer.

“You need to get back on the job,” Pono said, leaning forward. “Chase some taggers, bang some heads. You’ll feel better for it.”

“You’re probably right. Think the Lieutenant will let me come back early?”

“I’ve been following your case and it looks like it’s wrapping up, though there’s quite the media shitstorm because Ito was in the department. Just don’t watch the news, it’s better not to. Did you complete all the counseling?”

“No. Got two more sessions.” She dreaded telling Dr. Wilson about this latest development, the complicated horror of her Damaged Goods past. Maybe she could bluff her way through the sessions… She flinched, remembering blue eyes that always saw too much.

“I’ll stop in the Lieutenant’s office tomorrow, tell him you’d be better off on-duty. It’d help if you call him and request it.”

“Will do.” She pushed a sealed envelope toward him. “Can you give this to Stevens?”

“No way.” Pono held his hands up, refusing to touch it. “You know the saying, ‘shoot the messenger’? Well, that man is armed.”

“Chicken.” She pulled the envelope back. “I thought you had the stones to hand a guy a Dear John letter.”

“I wouldn’t do that for my sister back in eighth grade, and I’m not going to do it for you. Do your own dirty work.” He stood up. “Okay. I’m taking this in and I’m going to try and get you back on active duty. I can’t take one more day with Jenkins, so don’t let me down.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She followed him outside to his huge lifted truck, pulled up on the sidewalk.

She took the mail out of the box. He waited silently to see if there was anything new while she flipped through the slim pile. Nothing. She waved him off and he hopped up into the truck. Lei didn’t feel safe even after she got back into the house.

Back in the kitchen, she cleared the beer bottles away into the recycling bag. Pono’s bottle cap had been left on the table. She picked it up, put it in her pocket. Sat down and took out her phone, speed-dialed Stevens. She put her hand in her pocket and played with the cap as his phone rang.

“Lei. How you feeling?”

“Better, thanks. Listen, I have something to tell you.”

“I don’t like the sound of that. Let me come over, we’ll talk in person.”

“No. This is fine. I need to just say it.” She took a deep breath, squeezed the bottle cap in her hand so the sharp crimped metal bit into her fingers. “I can’t be with you. This was a mistake.”

Silence.

“What’s going on?” His voice was soft, kind. Easy tears welled in her eyes and she squeezed the cap harder. She felt one of the tiny ridges break the skin and she welcomed the pain.

“Nothing. I’m just not ready to be in a relationship. This has all been too much and I need you to leave me alone.”

“Okay. I understand that.” His voice was cautious now. “We can take all the time you need. In fact, I was thinking we needed to go back to the beginning a bit-that’s why I brought flowers.”

The tears spilled down her cheeks. She held her breath so she wouldn’t sob, feeling blood welling into the palm clutching the bottlecap.

“No. No. I am just not right for you, Stevens. Leave me alone, I’m telling you. It’s over.”

She closed the phone with a snap, couldn’t help throwing it away from her even as she cried out in dismay. It skittered across the table and crashed to the floor in two pieces.

She took her hand out of her pocket, went to the sink. The bottlecap had cut her palm. She held her hand under the sink, watching the blood well and disappear for a long moment. Then she took the bottlecap in the hand with the cast and dug it deliberately into the meat of her arm just below the elbow, dragging it downward.

The roar of pain washed over her, a burning that felt like absolution. She did it a few more times until all she could think about was the hot throbbing of her arm. She watched the blood trickle off her elbow into the sink, a hypnotizing watercolor of pinkening droplets as it melted into running water.