The Grim Room (chapters 3 and 4)

My thriller novel continued

*Sherman Alexie, National Book Award winning author of such books as “The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven” and “War Dances” wrote a brilliant, touching poem inspired by my recent post about my father’s impending death.

Click HERE to read Alexie’s poem.

**Enjoy Sincere American Writing? Please recommend my Substack and spread the word ✌️✌️✌️

Photo by MIRAGE on Unsplash

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CHAPTER 3

            But then the knock came again. She heard boots stomping down her steps and onto the street. Peeling her peephole cover to the left, she saw the familiar uniform of the San Francisco Police Department.

            She unlocked the door, swinging it open. “Officer Darnin?”

            The large cop stopped and turned around, an inquisitive look on his face. “Rebecca.”

            She scrunched her eyebrows at him. “It’s late. What are you doing here?”

            He stepped towards her. “Sorry about that. I was in the neighborhood, patrolling. Pretty slow tonight.” His radio crackled loudly out of nowhere. Rebecca screwed her face up; the noise would no doubt wake the neighbors. “Sorry,” Darnin said. “Can I come in a minute?”

            Rebecca tilted her head. “Now?”

            “Well, I was hoping.”

            Darnin was an old friend of her mother, an LA city prosecutor who worked for Josh Grodin, the District Attorney in Los Angeles. Her mother met Darnin in LA, through the court system. They became fast friends—this was after Rebecca’s father left—but had never, as far as she could tell, been anything more than friends. Five years ago he decided to move up to San Francisco to accept a job working with the SFPD. Every now and again, her mother would ask Darnin to stop by and see her daughter. It was annoying in that it was an extension of her mother’s reach, but he was a nice enough man.

            “Sure, c’mon in.” Darnin took off his hat and sniffled, rubbing his nose, waltzing inside her apartment. “Get you anything? Water?”

            “No, thanks. I won’t stay long. Saw your light was on as I passed down Waller; that’s why I stopped. Happy birthday, by the way.”

            “Thank you,” Rebecca said, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders.

            “It seems your mother is concerned.”

            “Oh?” Rebecca smiled. “About what?”

            Darnin curled his lip. “C’mon, Becca. Let’s level with each other.” This was Darnin, putting on the polished police procedure.

            “Ok. Level with me.”

            “Your mother called me. She heard the news.”

            “News?”

            “I thought you said we were going to level with each other?”

            Rebecca licked her lips, tightened the shawl, walked into the kitchen, and pulled down a bottle of white Zinfindel. She didn’t like to mix wines, but since Darnin was here at past midnight and she didn’t like where this conversation was going, she chose the obvious: another drink. And he was looking at her in a funny way. Rebecca long theorized that Darnin lusted for her.

            “Ok. Fine. I’ll play along. My mother sent you to stop by asap because she doesn’t trust me with Chris.”

            “Ding ding ding: And the victor wins a thousand dollars.”

            Rebecca took a sip of wine. It was unchilled and not as delicious as it could have been. Still, it steeled her nerves. “So what’s your speech, then huh? Stay away from the big, bad drug dealer?”

            Darnin picked up his hat and fiddled with it, then set it down in the same place. His eyes crawled over her body. “Your mother can’t tell you what to do. Neither can I.”

            “Thanks ‘dad’ I appreciate that, lol,” she said, taking another sip and rolling her eyes. “I’m a grown woman, thanks.”

            “But we care about you. Your mother dotes on you constantly, whenever we talk. You know that, Becca.”

            “Can we get to the point?”

            “The point, Becca, is that Chris is a felon—”

            “Ex felon, actually.”

            “Listen. Becca. He’s a convicted felon who just got out from doing two years in state prison. You really think he’s changed?”

            “I don’t know what I think, to be honest. I just found out tonight.”

            “I’m not going to lecture you. I just want to remind you how hard you’ve worked to get away from Chris, from that life.”

            Rebecca frowned and took a swig of wine. Her distant buzz was starting to creep back into her head. “I love Jake. I see us together for a long time.”

            “Been writing lately?”

            “Tons. Yeah.” She glanced away, looking at the rejection letters on the wall. “Got a story published at a smaller press a while back.”

            “And the novel?” He said, also glancing at the rejection letters.

            “Nothing yet. Those damn New York agents are freaking hard to nail. I hate the word ‘unfortunately.’ I see that word now and I cringe. It’s in every rejection letter I’ve ever received.”

            “And?” he said, the word floating in the air.

            Taking another swig of wine, her mouth flinched from the bitter loveliness of it. “You’re right, Darnin. I’ll stay away from him. Ex cons are bad news, aren’t they?”

            Darnin laughed. “You know you can call me John. You always say ‘Darnin’ like it’s some professional relationship. I am a good friend of your mother’s after all.”

            Shrugging, she said, “I don’t know, it’s uncomfortable for me to call you by your first name. I’ve always known you as Darnin.” It rolled off her tongue like the wine rolled into her mouth.

            “You promise you’ll stay away from him?”

            She looked him square in the eye, no hesitation. “I promise. I have a life to live. Life’s too short to get involved with trouble.”

            Placing his cap back on his massive head, Darnin said, “You said it right, there. Such a poet you are. Or excuse me: a writer.” He paused. “Have a good night, Becca. I’ll let your mother know that all is well in Akerman’s World.”

            She walked him to the door. The noise of his radio crackling again broke the silence as he approached his squad car parked against the curb. Rebecca shook her head and shut the door.

            She turned the lights off. Lying in bed, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Her mind was buzzed and buzzing. Nothing was as it had been yesterday. Everything, within the blink of an eye, changed. Jake didn’t even know Chris existed. She held that truth back from him, afraid he’d judge her or think about her differently. Besides, it wasn’t fair to talk about exes. Should she tell Jake about Chris now? Keep it hidden? Drop the whole thing? What should she do? 

Tomorrow she’d figure out a plan because one thing was certain.

She was lying her ass off to John Darnin.

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