Internal Affairs Ch. 12

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He pulled the folded bed ends out and locked them into place. Then he carefully folded the comforter to make a pad to cover the springs before he placed the airbed on top of it. After that he placed the sheets and a second heavy comforter on the bed. He also had a bedspread to add the illusion of a sofa. That was his only concession to Helen's demand for a comfortable chair.

After Peter slept the best he ever had since arriving in Detroit, he made coffee the way he had made it for Trish, the cold fish. The coffee was Colombian. Peter was glad that there was another product beside coca leaves coming out of Columbia.

While the water made it's way through the filter and into the second plastic cup he filled a bowl with cereal and milk. All of his furnishing and most of his packaged food came from the consignment shop or the Dollar store beside it.

Why not the dollar store and the consignment store were close and cheep. Those were two of his priorities for laying low. Don't get noticed was the issue on his mind most.

Since he had eaten a bowl of cereal in his own small kitchen, he was in no hurry to get moving. He turned on his TV to watch the morning news. Everyday someone else was bitching about the terms of the Bankruptcy. They acted as though it was an act of god. None of the whiners ever admitted that the city's politicians had robbed the city blind over the years. As long as the perks kept coming nobody seemed to have cared that there was a bill to be paid someday. The whole damn town had learned to live as if there were no tomorrow. When tomorrow came and the bills finally came due, they tried to blame the bill collector.

When the court started to sell off the assets there was bitching, moaning and gnashing of teeth about it. They city was forced to doubled the rate for a bus ride across town. That one almost caused a riot.

They cut the number of city employees which meant that the cop and fire department's response time went up. Less cops also meant that the number of arrests went down. The city was quickly slipping into a breeding ground for unrest. Peter thanked god that he wasn't a real resident of Detroit. He was just another do gooder who was most likely doing more harm than good.

Detroit had taken on the national mentality of Washington, 'just don't do anything stupid'. That meant trying to never make a decision. Detroit had lost the ability to ignore it's debt, so like Washington it whined about the only thing handy, the administrator and the judges on the Bankruptcy court.

Roger wondered what would happen next. Worst case the neighborhood watch would become the neighborhood militia. Then it would be bagdad on the lake. Hell detroit might invade Windsor Canada. The world was spiriling out of control. Peter said to the TV as if the stunning blond could hear him.

The cold ride to work after the sun came up, put it all in prospective. He would have wished for a free ride to work in a warm car. It all came down to the individual. Peter would rather freeze his ass off on the twenty minute ride to work, than to freeze his ass off in a protest march. Peter really didn't know what that made him. Maybe it made him a tourist.

He chewed on that during his ride to work in the bike lanes. He had a close call at one of the intersections. An automobile tried to jump the light as he passed through under a caution. Just another day in beautiful Detroit, he thought.

"So did you buy a bed?" Helen asked as he filled a Styrofoam coffee cup in the break room.

"I told you that I would. I always keep my promises," Peter replied. However it is small, but I slept fine on it."

"Well enjoy your sleep tonight tomorrow is Friday," Helen said. "We have a date."

"I don't remember inviting you out," Peter said.

"I invited you out," Helen whispered. "I enticed you with the promise of sex, so don't fuck it up. Well I guess I do want you to fuck it up." she said with a wicked laugh.

Helen was one of those women searching for a new identity. She had been Helen wife and mother for close to twenty years then she was Helen single mom until the realization that her kid was ready for college set in. Then Helen didn't think she had an Identity.

She just drifted into Helen the vamp. Actually everybody loved the outspoken Helen, which only served to reinforce her slightly over the top behavior. She also discovered that she loved sex.

"Hell forty is a hell of a time to discover that you love sex. I'm talking sex, just for the sake of sex. It's a time for a new direction in life, from Helen wife and mother to Helen the slut. The transition wasn't at all painful, she discovered. She just kept her home life separate from her trashy identity.

Peter's day pass reading reports while he waited for the results of Ugly Iva's meeting with the Detroit PD.

"They are going to verify that they have a case, then they will take it to a grand jury, since the current DA doesn't want to touch it. So he is going to punt it to the grand jury." Iva Explained.

"So what is IAD going to do," Martin asked.

"They will re-interview him. I asked that you and Trish be allowed to be present," Iva informed them all.

"So what did they say?" Martin asked.

"They will allow Trish to be present, Sorry Martin they think the rest of us have a vested interest." Iva said. She gave Trish a bit of a nasty look. "Don't get too excited, they expect the interview to take a week to schedule, then another couple of weeks to get on the grand jury docket.'

"The one I want to talk to, is Vickie," Helen commented. "I bet you ten bucks she is the instigator."

"I'll take that bet," Trish said smiling. The two women smiled warmly. Nobody else noticed, but Peter was disturbed by it. He knew he should not have slept with Trish and yet he was planning to sleep with Helen. I seemed like a really bad idea, had morphed into a nightmare.

For Peter the rest of Thursday was nothing short of a day filled with a string of boring chores. He read two files front to back looking for discrepancies. As usual the ones he found didn't amount to anything. They did suggest other avenues of investigation. Peter made stickup notes on the files for Iva to decide the best use of their limited resources.

At five o'clock Peter went into one of the several empty cubicles that he had designated a dressing cubby'. Where he added the several layers of clothing for his ride home. Since he had discovered the thrift store his wardrobe had more than tripped. He still bought work clothes in the big box stores, but he also bought the exterior layers at the thrift store. Those were the ones he wore over his work clothes on the ride to and from home.

The five mile ride in the freezing weather was a pretty miserable trip. If he caught the traffic just right it was 20 to 30 minutes of frozen hell. He could also be stuck in traffic much longer, In which case he intended to just stop in a convenience store or a restaurant on the side of the road. He thanked god that the 'Just Act' office wasn't in the downtown itself.

On Thursday evening he did get cold on the way home. So he chained and locked the bike to a street light pole, then went into a convenience store for a cup of coffee to warm my hands. Even with the ski gloves they were cold and almost painful. Even though he had charged the battery pack at home and work, it was almost dead. The new and better battery pack had not arrived at that time.

He saw the kid at a shelf in the rear of the store. The kid couldn't have been more than sixteen. He kept glancing at the clerk with dancing eyes. Peter was pretty sure he was trying to build his courage to try a robbery. Peter had no idea where it came from but he knew for sure that it was going to happen.

Peter moved to stand beside him. "Son don't do it. If you do this and live, you will end up in prison with a bigger thugs cock up your ass. Not a good outcome. Just walk out the door and stay free and alive."

"I don't know what you are talking about," the kid said.

"Up to you kid, but you ain't going to turn back, and they ain't gonna' give up once they get your face on the camera there. Next stop for you is prison or the crematorium." After making sure the kid saw the camera Peter then went to the counter to pay for his coffee. He noticed the kid rush out behind him.

He got on his bike and rode it another then minutes home.

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