Ken Douglas - Gecko

He donned a pair of Levi’s, running shoes, his spare shoulder holster with his off duty weapon and a faded blue sweatshirt with cut off sleeves. He wasn’t going to eat in the Shore and embarrass Glenna by showing up in one of the old suits from his detective days. Especially not that beat up brown job he was wearing this morning. He was going to look young and hip, like he belonged. Casual.

Dressed, he started for the door, then turned back toward the bathroom for a dose of Skin Bracer to set his face tingling. He looked in the mirror, touched the bandage on his forehead and winced. It hurt. Then he opened the medicine cabinet and reached in for the after shave, when a gecko scurried from the top shelf, jumped onto his bare arm, ran up his sleeve, over his shoulder, brushed along his neck, then dove five feet to the floor and dashed out of the bathroom.

He jumped back and slammed into the wall behind, banging his head. He pushed himself away from the wall, catching his breath and feeling foolish, while he tried to calm his raging heart.

He hated surprises.

“ What the hell?” he muttered. “First the hospital and now here.”

It was unusual, almost impossible and under different circumstances he would have worried about it, but he had other things on his mind. A new job, finding Jim Monday and lunch with Glenna. He wanted her to be the first to know that he was finished with the department. No more gray moods and never being there when he was needed. From now on his family came first. Jane, Glenna and himself-family.

He checked his watch on the way out the door. He had plenty of time to take the bus down Ocean to get his car. At the station he crossed the parking lot to where Power Glide lay, parked between two newer Chevrolet relatives, a Corvette on the left, a souped up Z28 on the right. They may be sporty and fast, he thought, but his Impala captured all the eyes. She was old and sometimes hard to start and maybe even harder to keep running, but she looked like the day she came off the showroom floor, waxed and new.

He ran his hand along the hood and flecked some bird droppings off the windscreen with his index finger.

“ No shit on you.” He unlocked the door, got in. She started immediately, a good sign.

Since he was early, he figured he might get in a little work before lunch, so he drove to Dr. Kohler’s clinic on Lakewood Boulevard.

Bernd Kohler’s Clinic de Beaute was a modern three story structure near the Traffic Circle, where the old Circle Drive-In Theater used to be. He was one of those plastic surgeons that advertised in TV Guide. His ads pictured young, nude women, hidden in shadow, always under the caption, “We can make you look the best you can be.” Not very good English, but effective. Kohler was a rich man.

He parked in the clinic lot, locked the car and made his way to the reception, where he was confronted by a beauty that looked like she stepped straight out of a centerfold. A perfect advertisement for Kohler’s practice.

“ Do you have an appointment?” she asked in the kind of voice that made men stammer.

“ I’m a police officer.” He showed his badge. “I’d like to talk to Dr. Kohler about what happened yesterday morning.”

“ He’s not here, won’t be for the next two weeks.”

He was about to ask the next most obvious question, when she answered it without his asking.

“ He’s at his place up north. He has a summer home in Tampico.”

“ Really? I grew up in Palma. A stone’s throw away.”

“ Dr. Kohler’s place is on Mountain Sea Road. Do you know it?”

“ I know it well.” Washington smiled, putting the woman at ease.

“ You’d love his house, everybody does,” she said. “It has the woods in front and a cliffside view of the ocean from the rear. I love sitting on that deck and listening to the waves.”

“ Sounds like a neat place,” Washington said.

“ Gorgeous, but only from the inside. It looks like a prison from the outside. Gray, with bars on the windows. He has to keep it that way to keep the thieves away, because he’s not there all that much.”

“ Can’t be too careful these days,” Washington said.

“ Would you like me to get him on the phone?”

He told her it wasn’t that important. He would see the doctor when he returned and she lit her face up with a smile. He thanked her and made his way back to the car.

It was time to put the Monday-Kohler business out of his mind. He hadn’t seen Glenna in two weeks and he was looking forward to lunch. Especially since they were eating at Armando’s, his favorite Italian restaurant. He smiled at the thought of the rich food. He was hungry.

Thirty minutes later he was sitting in a back booth bursting with anticipation. He wanted to let it all flood out, but Glenna had started in as soon as they were seated.

“ What happened to your head?”

“ Bad guy hit me. He got away.”

“ But you’ll catch him, won’t you?” she said, pride evident in her voice.

“ I’ll catch him, because that’s what I do,” he said, bragging a little.

“ I’m changing my major to police science,” she said. “There’s no future in psychology, unless I go on to a masters or a doctorate.” Her words were like a slap.

“ Honey, I want you to do whatever you want. I’ll always stand behind you, you know that. But, police science? There’s no future there, except the police force.”

“ Exactly. That’s what I want. I want to be a cop, a good cop. Like you.”

Emotionally he was torn. Glenna wanting to follow in his footsteps caused a sudden welling up of pride, but the danger of police work brought up fear as well. If anything ever happened to his daughter again, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

“ Darling, are you sure it’s what you want? You know cops don’t make any money. Not compared to the white collar guys. Heck, even the crooks make more than we do.”

“ Dad, you’re not going to try and talk me out of this, are you?”

“ When have I ever been able to talk you out of anything?” He saw the determined set of her jaw. It was true, when her mind was made up, it was locked and there was no key.

“ Well, I’m glad, because I really want your support.”

“ You have it. You’ll always have it.” Then he went on to tell her about the events of the last two days. How he was only still a policeman by a mere thread, but that he didn’t care, because he was finally going to use his law degree. He told her about the hit and run death of David Askew, the shots in the alley, the murder of the two attorneys and the policeman in the jail, the attack on himself and Walker in Huntington Beach, the wounding of Walker, how he banged up his head and skinned his hand and Walker’s offer of a job.

“ I’m sorry about Walker, but glad that you’re going to be doing something you want to be doing,” she said when he’d finished, “but that means if I want to follow in your footsteps, I’ll have to go to law school,” she said.

“ You should ask yourself a serious question. Do you want to be a cop because you want to be a cop, or because I’m a cop. Because if it’s the latter, I really think you ought to reconsider. Don’t get me wrong, for years it was good to me and I suppose if I could just knuckle under and do things by the book, it would keep on being good to me, but I can’t. I have to do things my way.”

“ I thought I knew what I wanted. I’m not so sure now. I just know I hate psych.”

“ Then find something you like, or better yet, take a break, drop your classes and go to Europe for the rest of the summer. I’ll pay for it.”

“ Dad, you’re the greatest, but I don’t want a break. I want a direction and I like to finish what I start. I may hate psych and it may only be summer school, but I’ll finish the classes. Besides, a little training in psychology might be good for a policewoman.” She laughed.