Chapters 10-12

CHAPTER 10

Rico barely survived two weeks of dealing with a trio of giddy, tireless, demanding girls, Joey included. A break in the otherwise monotonous business routine came the Monday before the Friday wedding trip.

An unexpected job seeker knocked at his door. Rico’s home and office building, still without furniture, wasn’t exactly ready for visitors.

The man was an old acquaintance of his. At the time they knew each other, the then Sergeant Rafael Azerra was a rebel rouser, gung ho, super patriot that annoyed Rico to no end with his loud, verbose manner. Somehow, Azerra had gotten word through a mutual acquaintance that the former Sergeant Rico was assembling another bodyguard outfit. It wasn’t as if Rico was recruiting old teammates, but everyone knew he’d give anyone starving a job.  

With no real intention of even considering the Delta Force commando vet for a position, Rico had finally acceded nonetheless—over the phone—to granting an interview if the guy would fly in. Thinking he had rid himself of the guy by stipulating the at-your-own-expense visit, the knock—at an annoyingly early hour—proved him wrong. 

At first, their past slightly acrimonious history made for an awkward start to the meeting. But as their conversation progressed, Rico became quite intrigued with the turnaround in the guy’s demeanor and new outlook of life. He wasn’t sure whether the man was spouting out tales, but they talked for nearly forty-five minutes. 

A wallet full of pictures gave Rico some proof, though he half suspected the photos had come with the wallet. How could that guy have progeny like them, and the wife, well … a literally picture-perfect face? Rico finally had to concede that Azerra did have a family, with children, and a passionate desire to provide them the safest, most comfortable life possible.

Azerra proved quite amenable to the responsibilities of the job and the little pay and minimal benefits that came with it. To Rico’s now pleasant surprise, he accepted the job. But that wasn’t until after checking with Shelley, his wife of sixteen years. She had also flown in, along with the children, to see New Mexico. They had two children: Eli, a bulky, sulky fifteen-year-old son, and a rather reserved daughter, Kindra, thirteen.

Rico blasted Azerra for leaving the family out in the car. At times Rico tended to be melodramatic. He was concerned about the heat, which wouldn’t have made a difference in the air-conditioned rental vehicle. It was just one of Rico’s many quirks.

Azerra considered that the old man hadn’t changed much.

Rico found Shelley’s wit and candor refreshing, and it had little to do with the fact that the picture didn’t do the woman justice. He took an instant liking to the whole bunch.

On a whim, Rico asked the two parents if he could task the whole family with an assignment; he made an attractive offer. They were thrilled just to go to Las Vegas, never mind getting paid! Azerra’s task would be to see to everyone’s safety and enjoyment. Shelley’s job was simply to keep him away from the craps table—an old vice Rico knew about.

The Azerra family’s trip from home, Maryland, was extending even farther west. The kids hadn’t been west of the Carolinas and the desert was quite a shock—and so far, not entirely agreeable.

          *

 Friday rolled around way too slowly. Finally, it was time to fly.

The crew experienced no delays in boarding—except for Rico—and the flight from El Paso to Las Vegas was nice and quick.

Rico, on the other hand, ran into a small problem. As he was clearing through the airport terminal metal detectors, the attending guard noticed an odd looking object in his carry-on bag. Even before the object was removed for examination, it dawned on Rico what it was. Not good news.

Fortunately, minutes before, Rico had given Joey everyone else’s tickets and ducked into the restroom while everyone else went on ahead. The girls were in a hurry to watch the planes land. Because of that it wasn’t readily apparent that they were traveling with Rico. The group was slightly ahead when “Sarge”—as Rico had taken to calling Azerra—looked back at hearing a mild commotion on the guard’s radios. The barely perceptible nod and eye contact between the two old warriors let Sarge know to keep the group moving. His assignment was the girls and his family, not Rico—at least not on this particular mission.

Sarge continued on and informed Joey of Rico’s possible delay.

And Rico would be more than a little delayed. The mystery item was a high-tech device he had forgotten to remove from his bag after a testing session weeks before. There was quite a ruckus; the on-edge guards reacted rather aggressively. Upon identifying it, they immediately pounced on him. His somewhat Arab-looking features didn’t serve him well this day.

The Homeland Security alert levels had been elevated due to an apparent attack at another airport two days prior; a planned chemical release was suspected. Even though only two confirmed foreigner-initiated attacks had occurred in nearly ten years, the hysteria often caused personal disasters of their own. Suspicious neighbors sometimes took action into their own hands. A flurry of police alerts and response activity would ensue, and then die down, only to be repeated in other places. All this, added to the chaos and crime sprees instigated by the catastrophic recession gripping the nation, made for overworked and tense security workers of all kinds—from small private security firms to the U.S. Secret Service. This would prove fortuitous for Rico soon enough, but not this day.

Strangely enough, the next two hours spent sporting shiny handcuffs and sitting in an isolated security interview room proved very informative for Rico. He would discover that apparently he had connections in high places. In fact, many former working associates of his had zipped right up the ladder of success in various government agency posts.

All Rico knew was that saying anything would only dig him a deeper hole. He only hoped that he would get his one phone call. An extended period in a tank somewhere—as had occurred to countless other suspected of terrorist connections—would really mess with his marital plans. The thought that perhaps Joey might even change her mind completely occurred to him. At the same time his mind registered how painful the cuffs and the guard’s grip were.

“Would you like to try explaining away the fact that you were trying to board a flight with this device? Which, I might add, appears to be, on closer examination, something I’ve never seen before? This is some serious high tech,” said the airport chief of security, easily discernible from the badge he wore.

Fear gripped Rico. Up to then he had maintained a sliver of hope that the whole thing would be dealt with as a big mistake and he’d be released. Reality set in and he envisioned his wedding night plans heading down the tube.

Some thought Jacob odd, others crazy—and rightly so in some ways—but stupid he surely was not. Wisely, he kept his response short and free of any wise cracks.

“I forgot it was there,” he said.

“Again, Mr. Rico, please tell me that you by some miracle have a good explanation for this thing. I would love to have the Marshals, who are on the way, leave empty handed. Though they’d treat you OK …”

This didn’t help Rico’s nerves much.

“You sound to me like a man desperate to let me go. So I’ll play the fool and pretend you really give a craa … hoot.” There went restraint. “Even though I’ll eventually be cleared, the risk for not trusting you could delay a very, very important date with destiny. Actually, her name is Joey,” Rico said, at the last finally making a readable expression.

The Director’s face registered the slightest of smiles.

“So, get your notepad ready, Mister,” Rico offered.

Without much delay he disclosed in rapid fire the story of his foul up. “… So, after completing the tests, I placed the non-lethal prototype in my bag for the drive home. I got home and forgot to put the device in the safe, and instead threw it in the closet inside this travel bag. I wrote my critique and forgot about it. End of story.”

“Sounds plausible,” the Director said with a thoughtful look on his face. “And whom could I contact about this fairy tale?”

“The person who is aware of my fairy tale, and could vouch for me, would be Joe Corral. He’s …”

“The Homeland Security Weapon Research and Development Director,” Roundtree interrupted.

He is? Rico thought. I thought he was an aid to some guy there.

“Dang, son … you’d better thank your lucky stars I’m so good at judging people. I knew you were legit, but I just didn’t know if I cared. 

Don’t call me son!” 

“Yea, yea, well let’s see how well your story holds up. Remember, even if it’s true, there will still be hell to pay with the FAA and a grand jury hearing. So don’t blame me,” he said pointing at himself with one hand, waving at the guard, peeking in from outside, with the other.

“Have Courtney get me in contact with this person pronto, please.” Roundtree told the guard when he stepped in.

 “Yes, sir, right away.” The guard fumbled with the door handle and left. He looked confused.

Two minutes later he returned. “Sir, Mr. Corral is on the line.”

“Thanks. You and Officer Rogers watch over this gentleman until my return. He is not to be removed from this room. Understood?”

The message to the officers seemed clear enough—the Marshals were not to take detainee Rico without his clearance.

But, not three minutes later two U.S. Marshals appeared at the door and entered, displaying an air of superiority and control as they had done on many prior occasions. The pair behaved like poster children for rankism at its plainest. Of course, the airport officers themselves aspired to achieve the station in life the Marshal badge signified. The guards’ awe of them clouded their thinking for a second.

To their horror one said, “We’ll take it from here, gentlemen. Please hand us all possessions confiscated from this suspect. We have already taken evidentiary custody of his luggage.

“Well, Mister,” the Marshal continued, without a pause, but now in a different tone as he approached Rico, placing an arm under his armpit to lift him. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry, Marshals, but you won’t be able to remove him from this room right now,” muttered the one guard that had strained and mustered the guts to speak up. “This person is currently being cleared for release.”

“Under whose direction?” the senior Marshal asked in disbelief, eyeing the confiscated device, aware of its sophistication. 

“The Airport Director of Security,” responded the same guard, though not very firmly.

“I have no earthly idea where he came up with that,” the other marshal quipped, bitingly.

With choreographed precision both marshals stood Rico up and proceeded to walk down the hallway. One of the guards flew by them and hurried into the Director’s office.

“Sir, the U.S. Marshals have our detainee!” 

A scowl came over his face; the Director readied his radio while he spoke into the phone. “Hey, Joe, are we talking about the same man? And you say he has an active Top Secret clearance? Please, wait a moment.”

He changed to a commanding voice, and speaking into the two-way radio, instructed all guards to stop the marshals and hold them until he arrived.

“Thank you old buddy,” Roundtree spoke into the phone. “You’ve been very helpful. Now I need to grab him back from the marshals. Yep, they took him against my explicit instructions not to, arrogant jerks! Yes, I have a cell phone. My secretary will give you the number, because I gotta run.”

Roundtree tried to leave, but Corral, on the phone, held him up. “He seemed like an OK guy. Yea, I saw the movie Forrest Gump. That’s funny! But I have to run! Yes, Joe, my secretary just gave me the fax with your letterhead. Thanks, I believe this should do it. Why am I going to this extent for this guy? I guess … I don’t know. The name rang a bell maybe. Honestly, I have no earthly idea. Yes, it turned out great that you happened to know the guy. God bless you. Ring me up sometime, Joe.” 

The Director left the office in a rush shaking his head, thinking, I’ll be ... I was right! He laughed a little, a year-long rarity for him. Life had become a nonstop nightmare; a roller coaster of alerts and crises to respond to, shadow chases mostly.

“Run Forrest! Run!” he chuckled.

As the Director approached the marshals, the higher ranking one released a tirade.

“Roundtree, do you have any idea what you’re doing? You are impeding the progress of U.S. Marshals who are transporting a federal suspect! Now direct your men to step aside before they are arrested or shot! Do it now!”

The Marshals nervously pondered their options, since Director Roundtree didn’t appear too shaken. Even though only half of the airport officers surrounding them appeared armed, the Marshals were still outgunned 8-to-2. They were also aware that all of them, including the Director, were Homeland Security employees, or federal.

In a very conciliatory voice and calm demeanor, the Director interjected, “Ruiz, please act rationally. My men were to hold that U.S. citizen there …” he said, pointing at Rico, “… while I tied up some loose ends about his story.”

“That is irrelevant at this juncture, I have assumed responsibility for him and this device,” Marshal Ruiz responded tartly. His was clearly annoyed at being interfered with by lower level walks of life, federal or otherwise. The standing rule was that any marshal’s word was gospel.

“I understand that you were informed on your way in that he fit the profile. Let me assure you that he is an American citizen, a highly decorated military man, and currently holds a Top Secret clearance. Above that I can vouch for him.”

The Director thought he had gotten through when the senior marshal raised an eyebrow. “So please release him to me,” he requested firmly, signaling with his hand to send him over.

“I will confirm everything you’ve said, eventually …” Ruiz said, a little less tartly, “… but all those details will come out in the wash once he’s processed. Now, step aside”

He took a few steps forward to test the waters.

The Director shook his head, and none of his underlings moved. Fortunately, everyone showed great restraint at not unsnapping their holsters. Rico felt embarrassed at the crazy scene unfolding on his behalf. Rico wondered whether anyone besides the marshals, Roundtree, and himself knew that the Director was way off on a limb and probably off the regs on this one.

The airport underlings were face-to-face, mano-a-mano, against the very ones they looked up to and weren’t even flinching—someone was in solid command.

“I’ll make a deal with you. Make one short call, and when you’re done you can take him if you still think it wise. Either way he’ll still have to appear in court. But, that’s later, how about it?”

“All right, I’ll play your silly game,” Marshal Ruiz growled. “We’ve done this going on two years now. This is one crazy stunt! I like you, Roundtree … but, your career is over. Nothing personal, mind you. You’re top-notch, except for this major disaster,” he added, regaining his composure and sounding somewhat sympathetic—as if Roundtree needed his endorsement.

“Now, who could you possibly want me to call?” Sarcasm flowed out with the words. 

Roundtree handed him the fax. The Marshal acted unimpressed with Corral’s letterhead or the content of the letter. He punched the number on his government cell phone.

“Yes, with whom am I speaking?” he asked quite cordially. “This is U.S. Marshal Ruiz with an urgent call from El Paso International.”     

Director Corral’s secretary informed him that the Director had been waiting for him to call.  

“Yes, Director Corral. It seems we have a situation. Somehow you have been contacted about a matter regarding…”

Director Corral sternly told the Marshal to cooperate with Roundtree, or else.

“Sir, with all due respect, according to your letterhead, you’re just the Homeland Security Weapon Research and Development Director. And your veiled threats do nothing to alleviate this situation.”

“Yes, sir I am saying that I will not hand over Mr. Rico to Director Roundtree. I am aware that he is fully competent and authorized to handle these matters. But, he had not cleared Mr. Rico when we arrived. And even then I must inform you that pursuant to Section 15 paragraph 8b of the Security and Freedom Act of 2010, a U.S. Marshal may assume control of any detained person deemed a probable threat based even solely on a profile, let alone confirmed possession of an illegal device with the intent to board a federally protected means of conveyance, i.e. a commercial flight … Sir! Good day!” Ruiz hung up more determined than ever to end what at first had amused him. 

“OK, Mr. Roundtree, I played your card. Now, please … call these nice folk off before I have to arrest them all … and you!”

Director Roundtree’s jaw was hanging limp, not from the command, but the stupidity he had just witnessed. “You have no idea what you just did, Marshal Ruiz. Hope you like desk work,” he said, still aghast as the Marshals loaded their prize prisoner—for lack of a better word—into their vehicle.

Ruiz’s phone rang. He confidently answered it after viewing the caller ID. 

“Yes, sir, I just talked to him a few seconds ago. Sir …

“No, sir, I feel I was very professional in speech.”

It was evident that the caller was getting his attention.

“Yes sir, I did quote him a section of the Act …

“No sir, I was not aware that he drafted that exact piece of the legislation. Sir, with all due respect …” Ruiz moved the cell phone away from his ear to avoid the shouting voice on the other end. “Yes sir, I’ll catch the next flight to your office …

“I agree, sir, it is very convenient to already be at the airport …

“Yes sir, I am at this very moment turning over custody.” Ruiz signaled his partner to quickly get Rico out of the van and officially return custody to Director Roundtree.

“Mr. Roundtree, the Director of the U.S. Marshal’s Service would like a word with you,” the senior Marshal said, handing over the phone.

Roundtree wondered what the Director wanted with him.

“Good morning, sir,” Roundtree said. He eyed the senior Marshal who was wiping his now sweaty forehead. “Well sir, it’s actually a very cool morning,” he offered. “Actually sir, both of these Marshals were very professional in their conduct. I have to admit though, that their lack of understanding of the spirit of the law is a little disturbing …

“That is true, it was their zeal for the law, and perhaps eagerness in exerting authority, that became an obstacle to good communication this otherwise fine morning …

“And to you also, sir …

“Yes, I have complete faith that you will ensure that miscommunications of this sort do not recur and that the spirit of cooperation we had established continues …

“Thank you much, good day sir.” With that, Roundtree handed the phone over to Marshal Ruiz, then uncuffed Rico using his key.

Rico, mesmerized by the drama he had just witnessed had forgotten about the pain. Then he whined as the removal of the cuffs aggravated his swollen wrists. Rico retrieved his travel bag from one marshal. He quickly dug out and popped one of his pills, heading off the full force of another headache.

“We have some formalities to get done,” Roundtree told Rico. “Numerous Hancocks. If you can’t move your wrist, just scribble. I expect you have enough common sense not to leave the country anytime prior to your hearing date. You might want to sell your car … you’ll need lots of cash,” he offered bluntly.

“Thanks for the sugar. Now I won’t whine about these things.” Rico held up the pill bottle.

Roundtree gestured, asking what they were. Rico gestured back, never mind.

Rico had hoped that the legal part of the adventure would fade away like a bad dream. As usual, hopeful thinking didn’t work. Even then, he would manage to iron everything out without any criminal mark on his record or even having to tell Joey about the final dollar tally for staying on the better side of a prison cell: a paltry $30,000 to avoid a whole year in jail.

Before parting ways Rico attempted to entice Roundtree to retire and work for him.   

“Considering the grace God has shown you today mister … I guess I’ll seriously consider it. Someone is watching over you Rico. You could have easily ended up in solitary or Guantanamo.”

Oh, no! Another one of those holy roller, hallelujas. I retract my offer, Rico thought.

“One year to retirement and maybe so.”

Yippee, he thought as he observed the underlings behind the boss break out in smiles.

“All righty then,” Rico said, fidgeting. The silence made him even more uncomfortable. “Cinnamon roll,” he blurted.

“What?” Roundtree said.

“Cinnamon rolls. I smelled them in the hallway when I was being viciously dragged over here … and coffee …”

The three security people shook their heads. Roundtree tapped one of the underlings and had him escort Rico to where he needed to go. Rico tempered the unpleasant experience of signing countless e-forms by enjoying three warm, gooey, succulent rolls with a Colombian ground chaser.

CHAPTER 11

Rico didn’t do bad time getting to Vegas after all, arriving only five hours behind the others. He strolled off the plane feeling surprisingly relaxed. Ignorance was bliss, of course.

Joey was waiting in the hotel lobby. “Jacob, I have a cell phone, you have a cell phone. So …?” Joey asked, somewhat perturbed. She stood, tapping the floor, arms crossed over her chest, fingers twiddling her bicep.

It wasn’t a posture she had used with him before.

Is she really mad? She must be joking with me. “Joey, I … I don’t know. I’m a busy man.”

Dumb answer. She rolled her eyes.

“It just seems like everyone wants a piece of me.” Double dumb.

She gave up, wondering who she was marrying—and for the first time getting just a tinge of doubt. By eight, everyone, including Joey, was demanding to go to the chapel to make it final, before she changed her mind.

“Wait guys! I have to eat something first. And I want to see what you girls have planned for the night, while I … we … are busy … seeing the sights,” he insisted, bursting their bubble.

He whispered to Joey to go back upstairs and arrange all her stuff near the door for the bellhop to move to their room later. It took a few seconds before it registered, evidenced by a big grin on her face seconds later.

The girls had their suspicions about why. Rosangelica’s blushing cheeks and quick girlish glance gave a clue she knew too.

Once ready to roll, Joey hugged him from one side and Tina from the other. Rosangelica held Joey’s free hand and gave her a nervous smile. Was this going to change their great relationship? Were they going to be relegated to occasional attention? Who could know those things?

They moved through the various casinos to the hotel restaurant. Sarge’s family followed as the ex-commando clumsily tried to act like a super smooth bodyguard. Rico often spotted him trying to be nonchalant as he addressed potential threats.

Rico enjoyed the dorky behavior too much to tell him that the protection thing was just a pretense to entice the family. There was no threat to the girls or him that everyone else in Vegas wasn’t also susceptible to. Big money still managed to keep the tourist traps reasonably safe. Other parts of Vegas were a different story. For this trip they just needed an adult babysitter so he and Joey could do the honeymoon thing.

Rico could see he would have to send Sarge through bodyguard school; probably twice. It was obvious why he had been relegated to only doing advance work with former personal security employers—not that it was unimportant work. It was just a different skill set.

As they left the lobby of the hotel, a super-long, white Cadillac Escalade limo drove up. Rico stopped as if to let it go by. The teenagers peered in trying to catch a glimpse of the star they guessed was inside. Rico stood closest to the door that the driver opened, apparently to let the star out. Rico enjoyed their wide eyes and shrugs when no one came out. Then he leapt inside while the driver was looking the other way. The driver shut the door, climbed in the driver’s seat and started to drive off.

The kids and Joey screamed, “Jacob, you’re crazy! The car’s leaving, get out hurry!”

The youngsters got all excited as the limo rolled out and then stopped suddenly. The driver ran to the back door and pretended to chew Rico out. Through the tinted window Rico watched the others looking thoroughly embarrassed. They all stared at the ground and tried to disappear as people passed by.

Then Rico jumped out and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Attention everyone!”

People all around stopped for a second. Most were tourists expecting some celebrity sighting. The locals were easily differentiated from the crowd as they carried on without even a change in stride.

“There’s this wonderful woman I’m trying to marry, but I can’t get her in the limo! Those people over there …” He pointed to the red-faced group. “…are holding up my wedding! Will my bride-to-be and the rest of the slow pokes please get in?”

That’s all they needed to hear. The teens sprinted over and jumped in. The adults tried to be, well, more adult-like. The limo driver had been laughing the whole time Rico was yelling. He hadn’t met such a character in a while.

Everyone admired the luxurious interior and played with all the gadgets and controls in the limo.

Rosangelica was extra wide-eyed. She was clinging to Joey as she took everything in. But still, there was this look of angst Joey could detect. Could Rosangelica sense Joey’s apprehension?

Rico, noting a confused look, asked her in Spanish, “Well, mija. I have a feeling that your buddy there might change her mind. What do think?”

Maybe he wasn’t so dense after all. He was teasing Joey, probing really.

Rosangelica looked thoughtfully into Joey’s eyes, turned to him and shook her head with a new found air of sophistication, which surprised Joey. She answered Rico in her broken, wonderfully accented English, “No, chee will no shange her mine. Een all da time I … know … Joey … her eyes no tweenkle … as mush as today.” Her pauses took nothing away from her loving commentary.

Joey’s eyes welled up with tears. Rico wondered about the baby talk; she spoke English well he knew.

“I no think your face will ever glow more dan now … ‘sept…” She paused as she slid down to Joey’s belly and placed her hand and face on it “ … wen dare ees a leedle bebe een here.”

Rico looked at the two women hugging each other. Tears rolled down Joey’s cheeks soaking Rosangelica’s hair. The wet strands made it sparkle, burning into his mind an image of little shining tear stars of one who loved another beyond his comprehension. Their lives had become intertwined to a level of bonding only a mother and a daughter could experience.

I was just teasing, he thought, feeling guilty and confused.

His eyes met Joey’s. Through the tears she still managed to give him a tender look that asked if he was all right.

He started to speak, but Joey subtly shook her head, indicating that Rosangelica didn’t need to know about her damaged womb. There she went again, looking out for someone else. This behavior was clearly a contrast to tendencies he had observed years before. Not that she had been an ogre, but ulterior motives, selfishness, and gruffness often ruled. He managed to control the gulp in his throat. He regretted having asked the question.

But Joey was glad he had. In her arms she no longer held a child in an adult body. The child—though Rico would not have characterized her as one in the first place—had become a woman just then. Joey understood that Rosangelica had just given her approval for Joey to marry the man she also still loved—insofar as puppy-love went. Joey’s romanticized version of Rico—very romanticized—and not that bad of looks, had won the budding woman’s heart, even with his initial missteps.

To Joey, she had sacrificially given up the romantic love for him, and placed it at her beloved friend’s feet. It was a treasure that only a mature mind could begin to place in its proper perspective. Then she laid her head on Joey’s belly and anointed it with her tears. Joey felt that by doing so, she was ceremoniously sanctioning the expected sexual union her friend would be enjoying. That act also bestowed to Joey the wishes of the young woman to see her womb as Joey herself had always spoken about with wishful, though cryptic words—and more direct, private words and groans in her prayer closet.

That is until God told her His grace was sufficient for her—until her boy child arrived. Anxiety for that promise sometimes crept up … like now. 

Rosangelica sensed that she would forever be Joey’s first born, comforted to know she would never lack tender arms to be held in and rocked. Her place in Joey’s expected quiver was secure. She would be right even if someday Joey’s womb was healed.

Basking in the moment, most reservations Joey had held about marrying Rico evaporated.

They arrived at what the driver considered the nicest chapel in town. To conceal the reason for his teary eyes, Rico claimed he had specks of dirt in them—it was the desert after all.

“OK, someone get the groom fixed up. I’ll be back here with my maid of honor,” Joey said. At seeing Joey’s hand extended toward her, Rosangelica realized that meant her. She was ecstatic. She hadn’t thought of it at all, her mind had been on other things.

As the music from the boom box played the wedding song, the beautiful women walked down the aisle with big smiles, gently shoving at each other with their hips. Joey stopped next to Rico, and he placed his arm under hers. They faced the minister, or the person pretending to be the minister, who could know?

Rosangelica got an ill-timed giggle attack. 

“There she goes again,” Rico quipped. “Stop, Rosangelica. This is very serious. Marriage is nothing to giggle about.”

At that she ran to the bathroom, face flushed and blowing snot as she tried to restrain her laughter. Was her sidekick Tina, next? Fortunately, she was busy making every effort to impress Sarge’s son with more mature, lady-like, manners.

Oh, no! Joey thought as she saw Tina google-eyed over the boy.

Rico was oblivious.

Rosangelica returned, flushed, runny-nosed, but composed. Rico wasn’t sure how long that would last so he urged the minister to hurry it up. The minister flew through the lines and got to the “do-you” part quickly.

“Yes, I do,” Rico answered solemnly, eyeing his gorgeous bride.

 “Yes, I do,” Joey said just as quickly and firmly. 

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister said.

They embraced and everyone cheered.

The original plan was that Sarge would escort the wedding party to Circus Circus, while Rico and Joey would escape to begin the honeymoon part of the trip. But Rosangelica felt nervous about being alone in an unfamiliar place. After some pleading on both her and Tina’s part, the newlyweds decided to join the party at the casino … momentarily.

“I think Joey and I can … cover the little one’s ears … control our passion for a little longer,” Rico said.

“Speak for yourself,” Joey retorted, drawing oohs from the group. “Just kidding … women have lots of self-control when it comes to that … huh, Shelley?” she asked Sarge’s wife, expecting support.

“Speak for yourself, woman. When I get in the mood, Rafael starts marching, or else!”

“Oh, Mom!” her teenagers squealed. “That’s sooo gross!”  

After both of the newlyweds felt all was well with Rosangelica, they snuck out during a trapeze act.

CHAPTER 12

“I feel like a million dollars!” Joey exclaimed a few hours later.

“Well, let’s see, at today’s inflation rate you must feel like … a whole dollar.” Rico had just finished the sentence when a pillow pummeled his face. “Hey, woman … what was that for?”

“That was for your sarcasm ... and this is for bursting my bubble,” she yelled as she slapped him with the other pillow.

They engaged in mock wrestling until both were out of breath.

Then Joey piped up, “I can’t believe what just went through my head!”

“You mean about how you just married the most outrageously stunning, debonair man on earth?”

“No, something significant … and real,” she said with a straight face.

He feigned injured feelings, adding melodramatic hand gestures to a sullen look. The sudden tenseness and tightness that always preceded a major headache suddenly announced itself. He felt vertigo and moved casually to hide it from Joey.

Unaware of his condition she chirped, “I feel like going to a casino. But, that’s weird, ‘cause I don’t gamble. In fact, I abh …”

“Who knows, you got luckier tonight than any other woman on Earth. Maybe you could win a few million,” he willed out of his mouth, his voice sounding strained.

She noticed.

“Well, go on to the lobby, Joey. Let me catch my breath. Anyway, it’s been quite an interesting day already.” Is she buying it?

“Maybe we should just stay here and relax then,” she said, eying him closely. His eyes looked different; she tried remembering signs of a drinking or drug problem.

“Move along woman …” he mumbled, “… we can also check on the girls while we’re there.”

Joey disappeared into the restroom to change, the whole time musing about her husband’s behavior and her own strange urge.

Meanwhile, he quickly popped a pill. The throbbing headache didn’t stop Rico from doing a double-take at seeing Joey’s snug, red, strapless, micro-fiber, mini-dress.

“Wow! If some rich guy makes me an offer for you, you know I gotta take it. Nothing personal, mind you, just business baby!”

It sounded like he had all his faculties. He even managed to gingerly roll to the other side of the bed to avoid her purse as it swung toward his behind.

“Next time I will whack you,” Joey promised.

She primped and curled her hair, then decided to try on her new glitter lipstick. Rico insisted she never needed any kind of lipstick. But she had to use Rosangelica’s gift or there would be hurt feelings, she insisted. It was one of those little lies people tell themselves to do what they wanted to do anyway. She bent down to kiss him. He glanced closely at her lips. Wow! He wouldn’t discourage her anymore. She softly kissed him, then headed to the lobby.

Rico stayed behind, splashed his face with water and sipped some from his palm. Normalcy, for him, returned only minutes later. He proceeded downstairs to join Joey, arriving just in time to see a wanna-be Romeo making the moves on his fine looking woman.

Joey extricated herself with finesse, strolling over to Rico. She walked with reasonable grace in the high heels she despised.

Rico got more than a little frazzled as the gentleman she had left behind eyed her backside shapeliness, exhibiting no couth whatsoever. Rico’s ire didn’t register with Joey; at least she didn’t let on.

“Let’s play that game that has a spinning wheel … roulette … or whatever,” she said after they entered the main floor of the ritzy hotel’s casino.

Joey was playing the dumb blonde about the name of the game, but she really didn’t have a clue about playing roulette, or any other game of chance. It had never appealed to her in the least, and she wasn’t given much to impulsiveness, apart from hugging babies and puppies.

Needless to say, they were both a little curious about her urge.

“Over, there. Come on,” she said, acting like an excited little girl in a doll store dragging Rico by the hand. “What do we do to get into the game?” 

“Don’t ask me. Let’s see how others do it,” he said, trying to be the voice of reason.

“No, just get me in,” she begged impatiently.

“Wait a minute. Joey, if you have a gambling thing ... addiction, you’ve kept secret, it’s time to fess up. I think we should get out of here. I don’t like gambling or the atmosphere,” he said with a strained tone.

“No, I promise. I’ve played rummy for pennies and that’s about it. Please trust me.” She added sugar on top with a loving look and peck on the cheek.

Rummy? His frown didn’t go away. 

“Gee whiz! All right,” he conceded. So much for the hero who stands his ground. “Ma’am,” he whispered to a kind-looking lady already playing. “How do we get in?”

She told him about getting the chips at the counter.

He lumbered over and got a hundred, bemoaning tossing away hard-earned money.

Joey stared at the itty bitty pile of chips, her tongue expanding her lower lip. “I saved you at least fifteen thousand on our wedding.”

Rico didn’t bother frowning. He went back to the counter and got four hundred more, shaking his head as he plucked the last hundred out of his wallet.

Saved me under $15,000 now! Well … still a good trade-off, but …

His frustration was quickly tempered as his waiting beauty, little dress and all, gave him a big inviting smile and a subtle move of a bare shoulder.

Hay yay yay! Better trade-off, he figured.

He didn’t want to fold without whining some more. “I’m out of cash … you emptied my wallet.”

“It’s OK, lots of ATM’s around. And I saw a recent deposit slip of yours … on the floor … in that trash bin that doubles as your bedroom,” she added as he started making a face about her snooping.

Seemed like she held all the cards this day, his comebacks were lagging.

Joey proved to be a cool customer as she played; giddiness aside.

In contrast, Rico sweated bullets, whispering things into her ear regularly. “Joey, let’s get our money. You’ve won a whole bunch, now let’s go!” he said one time.

He embraced her from behind and caressed her tummy. She seemed oblivious to it … she was in the zone. The “Zonza Zone” Rico liked to say.  It was a Spanish idiom, akin to stupid, dense, or moronic in English, depending on its context.

“Sir,” Joey piped up all of a sudden, addressing the dealer.

For a second Rico was relieved, thinking she was quitting.

“Am I allowed to bet all this at one time?”

Rico’s gut tightened.

“Joey, are you losing your mind? You have about … what … thirteen-some thousand dollars there!” he whispered sternly, releasing his stomach hold and turning her around by the shoulders.

“Jacob, just let me play,” she whispered trying to calm him down.

“I can’t do that, Joey. Come on let’s go. Please Joey, we could use that money!”

“Jacob, please settle down. People are watching.”

And they were. The obvious newlyweds with the stroke of good luck had become a focal point of attention. Just what Rico liked—about as much as a splinter in the quick of the nail, or cactus quills in the behind.

“Yes, I figured that, Joey. I’m leaving. I can’t handle seeing a gambling addict in the making.

“Oh, Jacob … Mister Melodramatic,” she said, squeezing his hand tenderly.

“Let the lady play mister,” chided a tall, husky man standing next to them.

In a nanosecond Rico’s countenance changed, though almost unnoticeably so, from consternation and loving concern, to a darker, more ominous one. Joey peered into his eyes; she instantly recognized the shadow of rage. 

“OK! Here, Jacob, take these chips and get our money back,” she said, making sure to emphasize our.

She handed Rico almost half the chips. At the same time she gave the man that had rudely intruded a look that made him nervous; mini-dress and lipstick or not, her mile-long stare was no less penetrating than Rico’s. The man wisely retreated.

“I’ll be putting all this into play. I’ll put it on seven,” Joey said to the dealer the second Rico was out of ear shot. She tried to act as if she knew what she was doing.

She had been going by the odds as the numbers displayed on a screen revealed a pattern. She had asked her neighbor at the table what the numbers were for. It seemed silly, but she pretended to know what she was doing after a mini-lesson from the fellow gambler.

The dealer closed the bets and rolled the wheel as he eyed the obvious non-player, or con, as he was thinking.

The wheel spun and spun for what seemed an eternity to Joey. Please hurry before Jacob gets back, she prayed. She was nervous about him returning and doing something stupid right in the middle of a spin. 

“We have a winner! Lucky seven wins!” the dealer announced, subtly pressing the security button below the table at the same time.

Everybody around Joey was ecstatic and cheered for her like a returning war hero. Some even hugged her. One guy hugged a little too long for her liking. Fortunately, the crowd around her blocked Rico’s view as he counted the money handed him, all the while trying to see the reason for the commotion at Joey’s table.

“What’s the big deal? I just doubled my winnings.” Joey muttered to the lady who helped her.

“Well, it’s a little more than that honey. Girl, you just won near a hundred K. From what I could see you placed ten K or so in the pot. That’s a good ten-fold increase or so, I would say. People like seeing underdogs win, that’s all,” the lady finished saying as two security men approached and whispered something in Joey’s ear.

Her freckled face quickly matched the hue of her red dress.

Rico approached from behind and tapped one of the well-dressed security men to move aside.

“Hey, honey, what was that ruckus about?” His mind processed the look the dealer was giving the security men. The security man in front of him took a step toward Joey. 

“Gentlemen, I suspect …” Rico thought for a moment about his ironic choice of words, “… that you have a problem with my wife. Joey let’s get any winnings you have left and go cash in … or whatever,” he instructed Joey, tugging at her arm without waiting for commentary from the men.

He figured she had blown most of it and it would be a quick matter. 

“Sir … ma’am … that won’t be necessary, a runner is now doing that for you. The amount of one hundred and five thousand may be given to you after we clear up a security matter. Please, folks … this way.” A polite hand gesture pointed in the expected direction of travel; that it wasn’t an option was written on the two security men’s faces.

Rico’s neurons processed the words “security,” “may,” and “one hundred and five thousand” and almost short circuited.

At one point the senior man pointed in the direction of the elevators.

Rico’s mouth still hung open as he followed in a daze. It couldn’t be possible, in trouble with authorities twice in two days!

The group walked in silence; Joey and Rico from embarrassment, the security team because it looked good.

Joey finally spoke up when she saw the man that had been sent to cash in her gambling chips. He was intending to follow the group onto the elevator and leave the money bag in the security office. She felt a sudden sense of injustice at thinking of the looks from others as they were being cordially escorted off, and then seeing her money just out of reach.

“That’s my money and I want it now!” she announced to no one in particular as she moved toward the now wide-eyed young man who was, unfortunately, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Rico assessed the scenario that was unfolding. His mind went into sensory overload, sometimes called the tachy-psyche effect, when sounds become distorted and events appear to slow down. With extensive and continuing training, its distorting effects could be reduced and an auto response initiated; but this day his training didn’t help much.

Rico’s reaction to the events happening would make him doubt his mental capacity even more. The elevator had just reached their floor, the doors opened. That’s when the lead security man was caught by surprise by Joey’s move away from the elevator. She closed in on the moneyman, who had decided to wait for the elevator to the right.

“Ma’am, this way!” the security man said as he grabbed her arm. She broke away and grabbed hold of the money bag. The man carrying it held on with a death grip. At that moment the security officer who had grabbed her arm wrapped his arms around her in a rear bear hug, attempting to carry her into the elevator.

Rico could only mouth the words, “Don’t do that! Let her go!” He really meant to ask if the man was suicidal … or just stupid. No sound actually left his mouth even as Joey yelled for him.

Rico moved toward her as the other guard grabbed his elbow and placed his hand into a hold that causes extreme pain. Had his instincts kicked into gear like on his good days, he would have escaped the hold with ease and the security man would have been the one in pain.

“Let go of me,” Joey screamed. Her heels flew off her flailing feet just a second before she planted her feet on the carpeted floor. A judo technique executed with precision freed her from the hold.

Then, to Rico’s horror, Joey took a stance he had seen weeks before at the dojo. With lighting speed she delivered a powerful blow to the man’s chest. It sent him flying backward into the wall next to the elevator doors. The mirror wall cracked and the man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head.

No one in the crowd moved. Then the senior man on duty, who had been monitoring on the closed circuit system, zipped through the crowd, panting. He had used the stairs.

 “Everyone step aside, an ambulance is on the way!” he hollered as he glared at Joey, by then kneeling on the floor, already repentant of what she had just done … and from instinct had thought of finishing. The new man in charge was about to say something to her.

“Mister,” Rico said through greeted teeth. “That is my wife. That’s what she did … if you want to see what I can do, just say something stupid.”

Rico’s stare sent shivers down the man’s back, shutting him up. But, it was obvious to Rico, from Joey’s stare, that he had lost some of the chivalrous glimmer in her eyes. He in turn resented the fact that, even though she meant everything to him, anyone could draw out the rage in him that he had worked so hard to temper for so many years. And apparently, he considered, he was expected to summon it when convenient to her.

The second in command of security arrived seconds later. As she walked through the crowd and then touched the hand of the still unconscious agent, she took note of the profile of the woman the police officer was interviewing. The pointing crowd had made it easy for the officers to determine the culprit.

“That lady did this?” she asked, speaking to no one in particular.

A nod from the man still gripping the money bag gave her the answer. At first she thought it a lucky strike to her buddy, until she saw the large indentation made in the mirror wall, next to the elevator doors. She eyed Joey and thought briefly that the profile looked familiar, but no one came to mind.

Then she saw Rico. “Sergeant Rico? Jacob?” she said, not caring that she interrupted another interviewing officer.

Rico looked up. An appropriate facial expression for the situation escaped him. A blank stare threw the woman off for a second. Rico finally revealed a slight grin; that was all he could offer the comforting face in a jungle of fuzzy ones.

“Pardon me, lady,” the Las Vegas Officer told her not quite tartly. Had the lady’s face not be so striking he certainly would have been more caustic.

She ignored him. Without thinking, she firmly and unabashedly hugged Rico the moment he got up from the floor. It didn’t matter that eons had passed since they last saw each other or that the relationship might have faded.

Rico acted stiff, caught by surprise, but was sincerely moved by her still loving spirit. 

“Officer, is this man a witness?” the lady asked.

The pale face registered muted annoyance. A civilian was interfering with his work.

“Oh, I’m Jennifer Jordan, Assistant Director of Security here,” she quipped as the officer appeared about to will himself to chastise her. She flashed her credentials.

“I’m trying to find that out now, Ma’am. Apparently your friends … this man and his wife …” Those words hung in the air and distracted her for a second; she avoided Rico’s eyes. “… were caught running some con at the roulette table. We will …”

“Be releasing him … and his wife to me,” Jennifer said. 

“Excuse me?”

“I am presuming that you are in the middle of preliminaries and have not determined probable cause and arrested them. Therefore I am releasing you of the need to do so. If that version of events holds up, your department will be contacted when I see fit,” she said with unequivocal authority. 

“But, Ma’am. These two assaulted your security man. He might not even make … Well, at least he’s conscious now,” the officer corrected himself as the paramedics, using smelling salts on the agent, could be seen arousing him. 

“I’ll be back officer,” Jennifer said as she walked away. “Rico, don’t say another word.” The first command she had ever issued him … as a civilian.

She walked away after seeing submission in Rico’s eyes. Those eyes, he was as handsome as ever; her knees quivered some.

“Steve, can you hear me?” she said, kneeling next to the victim.

The man nodded.

“I need to know if these people attacked you.”

The man’s eyes rolled in various directions, his faced winced as his lips moved but said nothing.

“Why did the lady kick you, Steve?”

She drew closer to his face. She moved the oxygen mask and leaned in. One paramedic didn’t look at all pleased.

“I think I screwed up, Jennifer. I grabbed her and she went crazy,” he whispered. 

“Steve, you’re saying that it wasn’t planned … to assault you I mean?”

“I guess it wasn’t … sorry Jennifer … about the paperwork … and all,” the man said, every syllable spoken with labored breaths.

“That’s fine Steve, as long as you make it through this. You do plan to make it through this, don’t you?” she asked nervously. “Just be glad her high heels fell off first … before … you know.”

The agent nodded firmly and gave her a thumbs-up. The cracked ribs would heal just fine, he figured. With that chore done, a bigger one awaited her.

Using all the power of persuasion she could muster, Jennifer succeeded in keeping Joey and Rico from being taken into the custody of the Las Vegas PD. There would be no charges pressed by the injured officer or the casino, as far as she was concerned.

Then the Director of Security arrived and quickly made it plain that he thought different.

“Ms. Jordan …” he said, emphasizing the “mizz” and using a tone intended to induce fear, “… what do you think you’re doing!” He had not yet seen anything in Jennifer’s demeanor to give him pause and cause him to behave with more restraint. She was a dove.

“I’ve taken responsibility for these two individuals while I investigate this matter … and after we view the tapes together I will be releasing them,” Jennifer said without looking up, still caressing Joey’s blond, sweaty, hair. She had tried to calm Joey, who was still trembling. It occurred to Jennifer at that moment that it was a futile exercise.

“You have violated protocol!” he continued in an abrasive tone. “I am in charge here and I will  be pressing charges against this … maniac woman!”

Those last words had barely trailed out his lips when Jennifer, who had already decided to stand and wait out Joey, moved toward him ever so calmly. The supervisor prepared to hear words to savor, like, “You’re right sir. I apologize!”

Instead, Jennifer’s hand moved up slowly as if to move several rebellious bangs from her eyes. Then with lightning fast speed her right hand grabbed his neck; she lifted him into the air about an inch, and backed him up about four feet, where his body slammed into a mirrored wall. Cracks spread like a thousand tentacles growing instantaneously. More repairs for the maintenance crew. 

Bystanders, including a surprised Joey and Rico, watched as the five-foot-eight inch woman pinned the slightly taller and heavier man against the wall. As he struggled to disconnect her fingers from his neck, she was whispering things to his face. She was basically one with his throat, her sun-bronzed hand contrasting with the man’s now blood red neck.

One young police officer was standing three or so feet away, apparently listening to the one-way conversation while chewing gum. He just stood there not twitching any of his ample muscles—to him it was just another street brawl, under chandeliers.

“Man, is anyone going to stop her!” Rico mumbled. He looked around hoping another cop would step in. For a second he thought that the young officer was frozen with panic. He quickly deduced that the officer was, in-fact, finding the scene a monotony breaker in this otherwise boring shift.

Then he saw the same officer step forward, apparently to take control. But he only grabbed the man’s wrist. The supervisor’s weapon was millimeters from clearing the holster and being put to use.

Jennifer saw the officer’s hand clear their bodies with the muzzle of the confiscated 357 Magnum in hand—her boss’s weapon of choice. Rico could see Jennifer subtly tense her fist. He heard her say, “You son of a …! You would shoot me?”

The officer could not have stopped the blow even if he tried. Either way, he wasn’t alert enough to notice the change in her facial demeanor, even as the force of her grip ratcheted tighter. Nor could he know that her fists were lethal weapons. Rico knew of at least once this had been proven.

“Jenny!” Among the cacophony of voices, Rico’s voice was the only one she discerned as her arm started backward for momentum. It registered crystal clear above the increasingly boisterous crowd of onlookers that were being pushed back by uniformed casino security people.

Jennifer turned for a second and looked into the surprisingly tender stare of her former sergeant and love interest. Even though every inch of her being wanted to release pent-up rage—including at seeing Jacob again, a married man—she instinctively digressed into military mode and obeyed the command, or plea, as it was. 

Strangely enough, she missed the fact that Rico had used her romantic pet name; the one he used in the years they had dug foxholes together, battled side-by-side, and did other more personal things together. She learned quickly that when he got serious, romantic or sentimental, her name was Jenny. But he tended toward the informal with his male teammates as well.

The choking, gasping man in Jennifer’s grip fell to the floor in a heap. His humiliation was tempered somewhat by the fact that the police had cordoned the area and the gawking was from a distance. That was more than fortunate for the man because the wet spot in his trousers did not look impressive.

Joey was on her feet by then; eyes, ears, mind, and heart engaged. She sensed the still immensely powerful connection between her husband and his former compatriot. Her heart skipped a beat … or two. Was it love … or military drill that had commanded such immediate, unquestioning obedience?

Joey was no stranger to deeply ingrained drills that would take over instinctively, almost robotically, during stress. She would ponder that question throughout the rest of the morning. She considered the combat bonds forged with others in her own past. But this seemed to her to supersede even that. After no small inner struggle Joey chose to take the high road, dismissing the potential romantic overtones, and moved to offer comfort to Jennifer, now the one trembling with subsiding rage.

“We are some nasty women aren’t we?” Joey piped up. 

“Oh, maybe a bit aggressive …” Jennifer said, accepting the hug and affection Joey offered.

Joey seemed as surprised as Jennifer at the warm and sincere affection she was showing.

“But ...” she paused again to think whether what she was going to say was appropriate, “… at least I just have Anglo blood running through my veins,” Jennifer added.

Joey was puzzled for a second and then made the connection—the heritage thing. It was in her blood to be subdued, not in Joey’s, at least as stereotypes went. But how would Jennifer know about Joey’s heritage? They met briefly once. It hadn’t been exactly a bonding moment either

“Anglo blood? Well that is kind of bland, and I don’t have a problem with that, mind you … just … please don’t say … English blood.”

It was Jennifer’s turn to be puzzled. She would have to wait to solve that one.

“OK officers, who’s in charge here?” Jennifer asked in her in-charge tone. She needed to take control if she was still going to keep her friends out of jail. Tissue had cleared evidence of tears from her face. Now it was all business.

“That would be me,” piped up what turned out to be a transplanted Englishman, of all people. That he still had a British accent was an understatement.

Jennifer and Joey grinned at each other. The cool casino air wasn’t enough to keep the very fair-skinned Brit from turning red with embarrassment. He had heard a little of the women’s conversation.

“Ladies, please,” Rico said to support the poor fellow. His own blood pressure and senses were back to normal tolerances. Any more adventures on this trip and he would have a heart attack for sure.

“Well, Ma’am …” the officer turned to Jennifer, “… at this time the Las Vegas Police Department has no jurisdiction since you have chosen, if the decision stills stands, not to pursue charges.”

“That’s correct. And they, I’m sure, being tourists here in our fair city…,” saying it with little sincerity, but for effect, “… want to continue their visits to other casinos and such. Is that right folks?” Jennifer asked, looking at the Rico and Joey, edging them to follow her lead.

“Yes … yes, this has been a most traumatic event for us.” It really had been. “We would hate for this to be the major event to tell our many, well-traveled friends … sir,” they both chimed in.

“Hmmm, I see. Well apart from the smoke in this room, it is beyond me to direct where you go,” the officer said to the couple and then turned to Jennifer.

“Miss … Jordan, is it? I expect an incident report that indicates you declined to press charges. OK?”

“That’s the procedure, Officer … ?” She squinted trying to read his nametag.

“Roberts ... Officer James Roberts,” he offered kindly. He was letting his guard down.

“You’re pretty handsome. Are you single?” Joey piped in out of nowhere, glancing playfully at Jennifer.

Jennifer noticed and pretended to be offended. She couldn’t be too put off, a sly smile showed. She had noticed his charming demeanor ... and looks.

Joey peeked at his left hand—no ring.       

Rico noticed and quickly deduced her conniving thoughts. Joey … we gotta talk … soon.

“You Brit men are cold blankets,” Rico blurted out just to shake things off. “Maybe I could give you some romance lessons some day ... old chap.”

“What?” the two intrigued women piped in.

Jennifer continued admiring the Brit’s features from the corner of her eye. It suddenly dawned on her she might actually be over Rico. Her heart had pounded for sure at getting closer and then hugging him, but not that often agonizing yearning she had suffered through in the past. It was now, she pondered, only a feeling of great joy at seeing a long lost loved one—a brother maybe, or even a father figure of sorts. She knew her romantic love had been real enough. The sexual yearnings and thoughts she had entertained were from a fully mature woman’s mind. Now, she was happy to be discovering that those feelings had transformed into a still yearning love for the man and his image, but now … mostly a platonic love. Maybe she didn’t have to run from him any more. And maybe her private oath of celibacy, or at least extended relationship break, could be forgotten—conveniently.  

Strangely enough, it was what Joey had prayed for minutes before—almost willing it into being. It seemed that someone was answering prayers rather quickly … perhaps. Joey’s motives were less than pure, albeit understandable, if one had sensed the electricity in the past between her new husband and this woman. As much as it bothered her to have such insecurities, former romantic interests were always a threat in her mind. 

Cemented in Jennifer’s mind at that moment was thinking of Rico as family. From the outside though, especially from Joey’s vantage point, her clinging to Rico was not discernible as romantic or just very friendly in nature. Jennifer was oblivious to what it might look like to others. She finally felt at peace. She was satisfied that life did not have to mean, Rico, or no Rico. Her old buddy had dropped in from out of the blue. And it had to be destiny. Trying to make the break, months before she had purposely not told him that she was moving to Vegas. First of all, he would have chastised her. Mostly, she just wanted to sever the hold of her security blanket.

It was not lost on Rico that the two closest people in his life had hidden things from him. It was rather perturbing and disturbing.

In Jennifer’s mind, she had no doubt from that moment on that they were intended to be family. She was happy. Rico and Joey would agree soon enough; that she was sure.

Rico noticed Joey give Jennifer a subtle nod and the two headed to the ladies room without saying a word. Rico barely had time to wonder what they could possibly be doing when the two returned after five minutes of freshening up. It was obvious they had hoped the crowd had dispersed. 

At the same time they arrived the man Jennifer had terrorized returned from his own absence.

“May I speak with you, Ms. Jordan,” he said, this time cordially, or perhaps cautiously.

Jennifer excused herself from the group. Rico gave Officer Roberts a subtle nod to get close to the pair, to help avoid another fiasco. What a chore, having to keep an eye on the pretty lady.

The Brit stayed close. He heard the man say tentatively, “I want to tell you in person that I am letting you go. I will not press assault charges if you don’t make a scene. You’ll get paid to the end of the month. The head boss said to throw in six months severance if, and only if, you cooperate.”

“Let me get this straight … you’re saying that Robert knows about this already and he agrees with you?”

Her use of the boss’s first name caught him by surprise. Nobody on staff called him that, ever.”

“Yes, he wants this over with quickly and quietly. He’ll be arriving in an hour or so. Please, Jennifer …”

“Jennifer is my name with friends; don't call me that again,” she said through gritted teeth. “Guess what, Mister Ted Jones, wanna-be-Ceasar.” She added to his guardedness as she drew closer and whispered, “I’ll be leaving quietly out the front door … with my integrity and dignity intact. Yours is nowhere to be seen.”

After savoring the injury she inflicted, she continued. “You can take your pathetic job. I resign! Oh, and tell Robert to use that money of his and … you know. That’s what his money means to me. I thought …” she swallowed hard, “… he had some integrity and guts to come and fire me himself, in person! You know very well ...” her voice began to rise, then she lowered it again, “... that those people didn’t deserve the treatment they got.

“I’m hoping for your sake that man over there,” she turned and pointed at the attentive Rico and company, “who taught me everything I know about killing people quietly … decides to only seek legal recompense. If he does, please for your sake, be very persuasive with Robert to pay his demands the first time. Even though an accident happening to a cruel and arrogant jerk like you would please me, since my … best friend … just got married, and wants to start a new life, I’ll try to stop him.

“To use a phrase from this God forsaken place, ‘Do you feel lucky … well do you?’ Oh, wait a minute, that’s by someone else who reminds me of my old sergeant,” she said and nodded her head at Rico again. “We understand each other, don’t we?” She turned away and then stopped, “By the way … nice new pants.”

Perspiration streamed down the supervisor’s face.

“That’s Sergeant Rico?” he confirmed with a big gulp, not entirely missing the reference to his pants. When Jennifer nodded yes, he made a wise decision. “Consider it done. I can’t promise Robert will buy it and not drag it into court.”

“That would be stupid.” Jennifer stepped away as she finished her sentence and gave him a sinister stare..

She noticed Officer Roberts watching closely and deduced Rico had something to do with it. As protective as ever, she thought.

Well, if Officer Roberts here …” Jennifer commented to the newlyweds, “… is done, maybe we can head out, to where ever? I’ll need your card, of course, for my report.”

He nodded before she even finished, fishing for his wallet with haste.

“Let’s hurry guys,” Jennifer urged, turning toward the main entrance, casually making the card disappear into her slacks pocket. Rico and Joey followed, quickening their pace as they turned a corner. 

Outside, the temperature was a refreshing sixty-five degrees and an unseasonable mist hung in the early morning air. Everyone looked at each other awkwardly and wondered what to do next.

The honeymooners, Jennifer was sure, were anxious to make the remainder of this day a more pleasant memory. “Uhm, I’d better get going,” Jennifer muttered in the general direction of Joey. “It was a most unusual way to have gotten to meet you in person, again.”

She took a deep breath and continued. “Jacob mentioned you in his letters every time,” she said, speaking to Joey in a whisper. “Congratulations! I can tell that Jacob made a wonderful choice. Perhaps …” she looked down, “… we can stay in touch. Maybe, let Jacob continue writing … you know … about family…” the word caught in her throat, “… things, and such.” Her voice was dry and raspy. “Maybe keep me in mind for a godmother … or whatever Irish or Mexican people do.”

Joey knew more or less that Rico corresponded with her, but she wasn’t aware that he had shared any details about her with Jennifer. To Joey he made mention of Jennifer often in his letters; often enough to foster uneasiness at times. Those subtle jealousies aside, Joey felt good at that moment. She surprised Jennifer and Rico as she grabbed Jennifer, hugging her firmly.

There went those goose bumps again. Rico had always felt odd enjoying such seemingly mushy things, like seeing people in the park showing affection for each other. He wasn’t sure if it was a normal, manly emotional response. He also thought he hid it well from others.

Even some women had reservations about him when his defenses were down, at times even allowing a tear or two. Sometimes it was a spontaneous sob that sneaked out at seeing a kindness somewhere. Other times it was a muted groan when witnessing an injury, especially emotional, but he had always managed to avert a full-fledged outburst. It was difficult for him to reconcile these two sides of himself; bouncing back and forth between tenderheartedness and the more prominent state of inner anger and self-loathing had made him an able mental gymnast.

“Jennifer, he got married, he didn’t die! Listen, even though I happen to be closer to his age, you were … no, you are and always will be someone that would also be the perfect woman for him. He would have done great to have married you instead. Please don’t ever doubt that.

“Remember this though, twenty years from now he and I will be using walkers and speaking with trembling voices, like this.”

Joey used a little voice she normally performed for children. Jennifer started half-laughing, half-crying.

“And I don’t think that you would like changing your husband’s diapers or asking him to insert his dentures for a good Frenching.”

The two women looked at each other and laughed the same instant.

 “Oh, no! I’ve got corny-itis! Jacob, you’ve infected me! Help!” Joey mocked.

“Me too,” Jennifer added, “…’cause I actually thought she was funny!”

The women were having a ball at Rico’s expense. It wasn’t funny to him, because he knew well that, statistically speaking, Joey was accurate about who had to care for whom in the sunset years. An uninviting image of an  older him came to mind for an instant, it made him queasy. Time was really gaining on him after all. 

A taxi drove up and Rico opened the door for Jennifer. 

“You know, people … I’m really, really offended. Me, the best jokester in the world, just might change his mind about inviting you to a fine restaurant for breakfast with us. That woman I have to live with, but not you,” he said to Jennifer.”

Jennifer managed quite successfully to sweet talk herself—as always—and Joey back into Rico’s good graces. 

“OK, since I see that you have truly humbled yourself, and are sufficiently contrite,” he said.

Joey and Jennifer rolled their eyes.

Contrite? Joey mused.

“Therefore, with one last pucker right here …” He pointed to his lips. “… from this outrageously gorgeous, but humbled girl, we can move beyond this shameful, tragic moment ... and meet in one hour at … at …” he looked expectantly at Jennifer.

“The Excelsior will work,” Jennifer offered quickly. She gave him one final kiss and bounced into the taxi.

Whoa! That sure didn’t look like a friend kind of kiss. Jennifer, he’s married now remember! Joey thought.

Rico waved and turned to face a glowering Joey.

Oops! “What?” he asked, waiting for a rebuke. Was it the kiss, or the smirk on his face from the kiss?

“Jacob, I didn’t think it was possible, but your behavior is getting more eccentric by the day!” she said, laughing quietly as they walked side-by-side until they reached their room.

They hugged and loved on each other like typical newlyweds, as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred on their wedding day.

He was really happy she had been kidding, that face he had seen was scary. And the promotion to eccentric from crazy was really nice too; moving up in the world.

“Now listen, woman, we have one hour, so …” Rico said as he gently hugged her more passionately and edged her into their room.

The anxiety about his little problem, which had caused the delay in proposing, vanished the moment her arms were wrapped around him in complete acceptance. He could finally let go of his reservations; Joey’s disarming, warm laughter helped a little.