Jackknifed

Alessandra put down her hammer and stood up from her kneeling position. She was a good four inches taller than me, topping out at about six foot. "It's good to see you Max. You're not going to believe it but I missed you."

She was incredibly pissed at me when I arrested her, and refused to allow me to visit when she was in jail. Her stance had obviously softened once she got home and realized that I had no choice but to do so since she did in fact tell her older sister DaVanna of an impending raid on her apartment. I'm sure Lesley was instrumental in turning Alessandra's thinking around.

I came up the newly refurbished, but unpainted stairs, and gave her a big hug.

"I love you Alessandra," I told her. She was always a hero to me, as she had overcome long odds to become an accomplished chef and the love of Lesley's life. I knew that Alessandra bowed to her sister's blackmail only because DaVanna claimed that she had evidence of a murder that Alessandra committed when she was just twenty. One of my goals that day was to find out more details about the alleged murder, as I had to believe that DaVanna's claim was false.

Alessandra wouldn't let go of me, as if she was clinging to me for dear life. "I love you too Max," she said while embracing me. "I know you did what you did because you had to. I need you now, more than ever."

She finally let go, and I looked around to admire her handiwork. She had replaced all the rotted wood holding up the front porch and almost all of the floorboards. She installed new railings, and all that needed to be done were a few floorboards, trim, and a new paint job. With the front entrance repaired, the house now regained a great deal of its original lustre.

She wiped her hands on her overalls and opened the new front door. I walked through it for the first time. Every other time I visited them, I had to go through the porch on the side of the house and through the kitchen door. The feel of the house completely changed as I entered an anteroom for coats and shoes before accessing the formal living room. The dining room adjoined the living room, and I could see that two place settings of Lesley's mother's china adorned the antique English walnut dining room table. Seductive smells were emanating from the kitchen. Alessandra could see me inhale the delicious odors.

"Can you stay for dinner? We've got plenty."

She surprised me with her offer. Perhaps we are on more solid footing that I thought.

"Of course, I'd love to," I replied, thanking my lucky stars I wasn't going to be shut out of their lives.

"Perfect," she said. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. My cassoulet is in the oven. I've got a salad ready in the refrigerator and a baguette I baked this morning. Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'd love a cup of your coffee." Alessandra, like me, had her beans locally roasted.

"I've got a pot of coffee on the stove," she said. "Help yourself while I get out of these rags."

I gladly accepted and went to the kitchen to pour myself a cup. I sat down at the kitchen table and waited for Alessandra to change. I sipped the excellent French roast coffee and sat there content, knowing I would soon be dining with two of my most favorite people in the world.

Alessandra returned, letting her hair down and changing into tight fitting skinny jeans and a form fitting t-shirt. Damn her. I had to work hard at looking attractive. She didn't have to do anything to look fabulous. She grabbed a cup of coffee and sat across from me. She folded her hands on the table and looked at me.

"When's Lesley coming back?" I asked.

"Oh, probably soon. She went to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting a while ago, but you never know how long they're going to last."

"I've got good news for her."

"Oh?"

"She going to be reinstated next week."

I was expecting a big smile. I didn't get one.

"So soon?" she asked, instead. It was clear she didn't want Lesley to go back. Just like any cop's significant other. The job was all-consuming, which left little time for loved ones. I suppose that in some way Alessandra resented my presence, knowing I'd take her sweetheart away her.

"She's done what she needs to have done to come back. Lieutenant Odell told me that she's to report back at 8 a.m. on Monday."

"I suppose she'll be happy," Alessandra observed without emotion.

"I imagine you're not?" I asked, perhaps foolishly.

"Max, she got shot last year and almost died. Then she got addicted to the painkillers she was given after her surgery. How do you think I'm supposed to feel about her going back?"

She was right, of course. I wasn't going to make any excuses.

"I know it's what Lesley wants," I said.

She sighed. "Of course it is. She'd be like a caged tiger if I tried to keep her here."

"Gotta play the cards we've been dealt."

"That hand was a bust," she said dryly.

"But Lesley's four aces," I added, outmaneuvering her.

"I wouldn't trade her for anything," Alessandra said, acknowledging Lesley's desire to go back was a burden she'd have to bear.

"That's why I love you," I said to my dear friend.

She smiled. "Max, sometimes you say the exact right thing and the exact right time."

"Even a blind pig finds an acorn every now and again," I quipped, eliciting a laugh from her.

"So...," I said somberly, "there's something else I wanted to discuss with you before Lesley comes back."

I could see Alessandra processing my statement before she answered.

"You want to know about the murder," she said, reading my mind. It had to be front of mind for her too, as the threat of a murder charge isn't easily forgotten.

"You know I do," I said. If there was a murder ten years ago it was already a cold case, so I needed every scrap of information about it if I was going to help.

She took a sip of her coffee before beginning, looking wistfully upwards as she dug up memories that were no doubt better forgotten.

"I was young and stupid and running with a bad crowd. We dealt drugs, not in big quantities, and engaged in petty theft to make money. It was free sex, free drugs, and a lot of rebellion. You know my parents were real social climbers, along with DaVanna, and I wanted no part of it. Instead, I found trouble."

"You did a good job at that."

"Thanks Max. I always try to excel... drug addict... thief... professional chef... whatever you've got." She stuck out her chest in an exaggerated fashion after her boast and grinned.

"You must have been an outstanding drug addict and thief, because I know you're one hell of a chef."

"Thanks Max... I think... and speaking of chef, I've got something in the oven I was supposed to check five minutes ago..."

She got up and opened the oven. Steam came out, along with the rich smells of duck confit, white beans and sausage. She used potholders and stooped down to pull the cassoulet out of the oven, continuing the story without missing a beat.

"It was about ten years ago. Just finished six months in juvie and was deep into drugs. Real deep. I met Andrea Hillman there. She was seventeen going on forty. She showed me how to shoot up. That's how I got addicted to heroin. After I got out my parents wouldn't take me back. I found Andrea. She was living in a trailer in the West End, you know, near Pine Street."

Alessandra knew that I grew up in the West End and that Lesley and I spent most of our time there chasing the drug trade.

"I know the trailer park," I said. "It was one step away from homelessness."

Crushed beer cans in the gutters... the overwhelming smell of cat piss from home meth labs... it made the Royal Palms feel like a five star resort.

Alessandra held out a fork in front of my mouth with a piece of duck on it. I took it off the fork and savored the rich, falling apart meat.

She waved her hand with the empty fork in it.

"I couldn't believe I lived in that shithole. So anyway, Andrea had a drug connect, some small-time dealer named Lenny Davis. Lenny was a scumbag who made his money whoring his wife out and dealing drugs to support both of their habits. Anyway, Lenny had arranged for Andrea and me to meet him at his house. We were going there to score and shoot up together. It was surreal, you know, listening to his wife fucking a john upstairs while we were getting high. It was pretty fucked up, but that's how messed up my life was."

The taste of duck lingered as I encouraged her to continue.

"I remember it was a hot and muggy day because I wasn't wearing much. We went into his living room to get high. So I took off my t-shirt before shooting up. I wasn't wearing a bra and didn't care that I was naked from the waist up. Lenny's wife Doreen was banging away at someone upstairs. I remember putting in the needle and then having sex with Andrea while Lenny watched. I nodded off sometime while we were having sex and I woke up late that night with blood on my hands. Andrea was dead, and there were stab wounds in her chest. My handle of my jackknife was sticking out of her chest."

"How'd you know it was your jackknife?"

"It had a custom designed inlaid mother of pearl handle."

"Oh," I responded. If was her knife, and DaVanna somehow got it into her hot little hands, then her younger sister was good and truly fucked.

"Lenny panicked, and dumped her body in an abandoned field outside of town. I don't remember exactly where but I did read a newspaper story when she was found. It was probably months later. I also was in such a state at the time he disposed of the body that I didn't remember where the knife ended up. My guess at the time was that Lenny took it and disposed of it. At least that's what he told me."

"So how does DaVanna know about this?"

'Because I told her. In those days I told her everything, because she was able to get me out of trouble because she worked in the prosecutor's office. When I told her about the murder, she said that the police hadn't located any witnesses and had no suspects."

"So how did she blackmail you?"

"She has the jackknife."

"I knew it," I said. "Give credit to your bitch sister for blackmailing you with a prison sentence."

"Sisterly love," Alessandra said sarcastically.

"But how do you know she has it?"

"She texted me a picture of it. When I got the picture I told her about the raid that you organized to catch her with a brick of cocaine. Of course I didn't know she never had anything and that the information was given to you so DaVanna could fuck with all of us."

"I've never seen someone stoop so low as to blackmail her own sister."

"Welcome to my world."

"But you don't know if you killed her," I said. There had to be a solution.

"I don't. Max, in those days I was a full blown junkie. I was high. I passed out. I didn't remember shit. Even if I didn't do it, who'd believe a junkie?"

She was right. There were too many fingers pointed at her. And she had a long record. We had to talk to Lenny. He must have known what happened.

"So Alessandra, is this Lenny guy still around?"

"I don't know. We lost touch after Andrea's death. I didn't think we could be in the same room together after that. And it was Andrea's death that got me off H."

The front door opened. I felt a rush of cool air come into the house, followed by my favorite blonde. She was grinning ear to ear when she saw me. We all wanted to put the past behind us. DaVanna had tried to put a wedge between us but none of us wanted to allow her to win. Besides, there was real love between us, and a vindictive bitch couldn't manipulate us the way she manipulated everyone else.

"I saw your car outside," she said. She took off her jacket and dropped it over the top of an empty chair and then went over to Alessandra. Alessandra craned her neck and tilted her head back to receive a welcoming kiss.

"The gang's all here," Lesley said, plopping herself in a chair. "So what've you been talking about?"

Alessandra stood up to grab hot pads from a kitchen drawer, turning to face us as she spoke. "Max tells me that you're going back to work."

Lesley's face lit up. "You're shitting me... right?" She looked at me for affirmation. I know it had been torture for her to sit on the sidelines.

"She's right," I said, happy to pass on the good news. "Starting Monday."

"I did it!" she said proudly. "You both said I could do it. I just had to believe in myself."

It was a long and rocky road. All of our lives were upended by her addiction. We were all elated to see that Lesley had recovered (though as I knew, it was a day to day proposition), but I could still see on Alessandra's face that she was not so enthused about seeing her life partner back on the streets with me.

"You did do it, and I'm happy for you," I said, going over to give her a big hug.

"So Monday..." Lesley began, before Alessandra interrupted, as she was eager to change the subject.

"Dinner's ready," she announced. She pulled the salad out of the refrigerator and gave it to me to carry. Lesley picked up the baguette.

Our minds shifted to the seductive smells escaping from the Dutch oven sitting on the stove. Lesley and I followed Alessandra into the dining room as she carried our main course. She put the heavy cast iron pot on a trivet and pulled off the lid. A big plume of steam rose from the white bean, sausage and duck confit mixture.

"Marry me Alessandra," I said as she served me first. "You're too good for Lesley."

That comment lightened the load I knew Alessandra was carrying.

"You'll have to fight me for her," said Lesley, balling up her fist. She was a little spitfire that no one should fuck with, and she knew it. Even though it was all in jest she wanted to make clear that Alessandra was hers.

"All right, all right," I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "She's all yours."

Alessandra chuckled. "You can prove it to me tonight, honey." She reached across the table and grasped Lesley's hand. I could see a tear forming in the corner of her eye.

"Did you guys want to go upstairs right now? I can eat all of this by myself," I said, breaking the silence.

We all began eating. The cassoulet was other worldly. The rich flavors were complemented by a vintage Bordeaux wine. I hadn't had a meal this good in a month of Sundays. We enjoyed the meal, and each other's company with nothing more than small talk. Alessandra went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. We retired to the living room for the serious conversation we needed to have. I waited until the coffee was served before starting.

"I think it's time we finish the discussion about the murder DaVanna is trying to pin on you," I said to Alessandra. She was sitting across from me with her legs crossed, sipping her coffee.

"Oh that," Lesley said. "Did you want me to leave so you can finish your conversation?"

"No," Alessandra insisted. "If we're going to be together I think you need to know this about me. It's the ugly part, the part I hope you never see again."

"I know you had it rough," Lesley said.

"So I was telling Max about my younger days... and the murder. I think I've told you about Andrea but I never shared the circumstances of her death."

"I remember you telling me about Andrea. I think you said she's the one that introduced you to hard drugs," Lesley answered.

"Heroin," Alessandra added.

"Yeah, that," Lesley acknowledged.

"Anyway, I told Max that DaVanna found the police file on the investigation into Andrea's death. No witnesses, no suspects. What I was about to tell Max was that Andrea was a Jane Doe. Her body was so decomposed and dismembered, probably by wild animals, that they never got a positive identification. Andrea really lived off the grid. Lenny never reported her as a missing person and she never had a driver's license or registered to vote. I doubt she ever filed a tax return."

"But presumably Andrea's DNA is on the knife blade," I observed. "Presuming they preserved some of the DNA from the corpse, or at least what was left of it, they could put the two together."

Alessandra nodded her head. "That's my fear as well. Of course DaVanna could identify the jackknife as mine. She gave it to me as a present."

"Shit," I moaned.

"She always holds all the cards," Alessandra said with a sigh.

"So what do we do?" Lesley asked.

"We find Lenny," I said. "He probably knows what really happened. DaVanna probably has something on him as well. Enough to get him to cough up the jackknife. And probably something on Doreen as well."

"Whose Doreen?" Lesley asked.

"Lenny's wife," Alessandra answered.

"So we start with the two of them. I doubt it would make sense to revisit the neighborhood to see if there were any witnesses. You said Doreen was having sex with somebody at that time upstairs. Did you ever see who that was?"

Alessandra thought for a minute. "I think I saw him come into the house. Middle age. White. I don't know. It was so long ago I don't remember. I just got a glimpse."

"What was that all about?" Lesley asked.

"Lenny was whoring out his wife," I said.

"That's so fucked up," Lesley said with disgust.

"All of it was," said Alessandra. "It was all my dirty little secret. And DaVanna knew all of it."

"It's all in the past honey," said Lesley.

"I have so many regrets about what I did," said Alessandra.

"We all do," I said.

"Speak for yourselves. I was Miss Goody Two Shoes when I grew up," said Lesley.

"Well you had the Chief of Police as your father," said Alessandra.

"True," said Lesley. "But I consider it ironic that the two of you were the big trouble makers, yet it's me that's going to NA meetings."

I laughed. "It is funny, isn't it, in some fucked up sort of way."

"Everything we do is kind of fucked up," said Lesley.

"That's what keeps us together," said Alessandra.

"We'll see if we can find Lenny. I'll bet he'll be happy to meet me," I said.

"About as happy as going to the dentist," said Lesley, laughing.

"We're not going to make it that fun," I said.

* * *

Lesley beat me to work. She'd already completed her drug test and was in the locker room changing when I came in. She was buttoning up her shirt when I opened my locker. She was looking pretty chipper for early Monday morning.

"Couldn't wait to start, could you?" I said.

"You know me. Saw Odette and I'm already good to go." She flashed a smile at me, telling me the old Lesley was back.

"Good. We've got work today, but first..."

"Happy Donut?" she asked.

"Gotta start the day right," I said.

We rolled our black and white to an aging neighborhood in the heart of the West End. Our favorite donut shop stood alone on a short block, with a line of patrons snaking out the door and onto the sidewalk. As usual, Bea, a fifty something Vietnamese woman, was behind the counter berating the customers who weren't ready with their order and dispensing her brand of homespun advice. When it was our turn she was all smiles. She always had a soft spot for Lesley and I guess one for me as well. All the locals knew that I was the Lord Protectorate of Happy Donut. They hadn't been robbed, or even graffiti tagged, since I became a regular there.

"Ah, I see your cute partner with you today Max," she said by way of greeting. I'm not sure she even looked at me.

Lesley stepped up to the counter. "Hello Bea."

"I hear you no take drugs anymore," she said, not being one to keep any confidences. Fortunately I don't think anyone else in line was paying attention to our conversation.

Lesley was nonplussed by Bea's observation. "No Bea, I'm not. And thank you for your concern."

"You good girl. You take care of Max." She went into the display case to retrieve Lesley's jelly donut and my chocolate old fashioned. She dropped them into a wax paper bag, being careful to wrap Lesley's in a separate piece of wax paper. She knew I didn't like the jelly to get on my donut.