The Shack: The Guardians

Ron reached me first since Nick had been back in the office when everything happened, almost falling himself when a pen rolled under his foot. He grabbed the pen and shoved it into his cargo pocket.

Nick and Ron helped me get the guy off the floor, then we sat him down while Syl called the ambulance. Ron headed back upstairs, while I walked back to my usual station with Nick, and explained how everything had gone down.

"PeeGee said he ran into her, and that girl, Cassie, backed her up. But, hell, Ron stepped on a pen or something so he could have slipped on that too."

Nick grimaced. "I'd better check with Ron. This could be technically our fault. I'll have to get a statement from the guy and see if he mentions slipping on something."

"Yeah I remember that girl claiming she busted her tailbone and hurt her back stepping on an ice cube. Good thing the cameras caught her faking it."

He nodded. "That's why the insurance company insists we have them, it's the only way to cut down on shit like that."

Nick glanced back over to our casualty. Or where our casualty had been. The chair where we'd left him was clearly empty.

"Idiot. I'll see if Syl knows where he went."

It turned out he'd disappeared without a trace. We talked it over until Ron came springing back down.

He pulled the "pen" out of his pocket. "It's some kind of plastic spike."

Nick examined it. "It's a cut down self-defense spike. Polymer of some kind. They aren't great tools, and they're pretty much only useful for stabbing someone. Walk right through our metal detector with one. We need to look over that video as soon as we shut down tonight."

From the video, it was obvious I was being set up, the two guys ''arguing'' were deliberately holding my attention so the third guy could stab me. PeeGee's stumbling arrival was the only thing that saved my ass from a trip to the hospital or the morgue.

Nick scowled at the video. "You never had a run in with these assholes?"

"Never saw them before today."

Ron, it turned out, recognized one of the two distractions as having come in on Wednesday. Nick filed a report, but there wasn't much to go on.

I waited and sent a snip of the video to my email after Nick went back out to talk with Syl. I'd been targeted and I had some friends who might be able to help me figure out why.

###

As soon as I got home, I sent the video on to Kelly. She'd been my partner, a patrol officer with over 10 years on the street. After I'd had to leave, she'd finally taken the test to become a detective and moved over into Vice. It certainly wasn't as glorious as Homicide, but she'd worked the Dog Run for years before I joined the force and knew more about the flow of drugs and prostitution than anyone, so she was a damn good fit for it.

Maybe she could put two and two together for me.

I'd just finished showering, when someone rung up from the front door of the building. I grabbed a lavalava -- a man's waist wrap used across Polynesia -- and pulled it around me as I keyed the intercom.

"Hey, Big Guy, it's me. Buzz me up."

"PeeGee? What are you doing here?"

"Freezing in the rain out here. I don't have a coat, let me in."

A minute later she was standing at my door. I checked through the peephole in the door -- I'm a big guy but if I learned anything from being shot, it was not to be overconfident. Besides, the incident at the Crimson had me a little guarded. She was still in her club clothes, soaked and shivering.

I let her in. "What are you doing?"

"Wondering if you're gonna keep my shirt. It's really cute, but I think it's a little small for you."

"Shit. I'm sorry" She followed me I walked over to my hamper and fished out my cargo pants with her scrap of clothing.

She took it from me with a quirk of a smile, then turned serious. "I wanted to apologize for causing trouble at the club today."

"Look, uh, Danni, it's no big deal. It wasn't your fault and those assholes may have been up to something."

She grinned when I said "Danni"- it was probably the first time I'd ever called her by her given name.

"So I don't need to apologize?"

"No. We're good."

She glanced around. "Nice place. I love the ocean theme." She seemed serious.

"I miss home sometimes. Some day I plan to head back to Hawaii, just not sure how that will work yet."

She hadn't said a word about the lavalava, which was a little odd considering her how much of a smart ass she usually was. It was basically a red skirt trimmed with orange and yellow flowers; it pretty much screamed for a comment from someone who didn't know what it was.

She picked up a picture of me with my mom and brothers. "This is your family?"

"Yeah, that's my mom and my older brothers."

"I like that, family is kind of a big deal to me."

"Me too. A lot of the time family is all you have."

She looked up at me from under a raised eyebrow. "You're sure you don't blame me for the trouble at the club?"

"I'm sure, I think you may have kept it from getting a whole lot `worse."

"Okay. That just leaves one thing."

"What?"

"I'm not leaving until I see the rest of those tattoos."

"Danni, I'm not sure this is a good idea. The rules..."

She smiled, stepping toward me and giving me a surprisingly hard shove back toward the open door of the bedroom. "You didn't pick me up at the club, so you're not breaking the rules. I haven't gotten laid in six months and I know monks that have a better social life than you do. This is just some fun. No strings attached."

From the look in her eye, she obviously wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Not that I was saying no...

###

I woke up a bit confused -- the smell of fresh coffee was filling the house. And waking up to that smell is a bit unusual when you don't have a programmable coffee machine.

I found Danni half curled up in my one of my big recliners. Reading a book, sipping coffee, and wearing one of my dark green "Local Motion Hawaii" T-shirts. On her, it went to her knees, even if she was pretty tall for a woman. And despite the fact that I would have always assumed she was a latte girl, it looked like she was drinking her coffee black.

She looked up when she heard me come in. "You need to wear a warning label."

For a second I was a little concerned I'd been a little too rough. I'm usually pretty cautious with women, guys my size have to be, but she'd made it clear that she wasn't breakable. If anything, she seemed to be encouraging me in the other direction. She'd been even stronger than I expected from her dancing; a lithe, energetic bundle of rattan and whipcord. And very aggressive. Some girls like big guys because they have a submissive streak, but there wasn't even a hint of that with her.

She must have somehow caught my concern. She shook her head and gave a wry, humorous grimace. "Big guys like you aren't usually 'in proportion', if you know what I mean. A girl could use a little warning so she can mentally prepare. Not that I'm complaining."

"Well, I'm glad I'm up to your standards."

"I think we made up a whole new set of standards last night." She smiled, a soft, bemused smile.

I walked over and poured myself a cup of coffee. "You surprised the hell out of me."

She shrugged, looking back down at the book for a second. "It was a spur of the moment thing. I realized you had my shirt and decided to chase you down."

"How'd you know where I live?"

"I asked Nick."

That meant Nick would know, but it was too late to worry about that. He wouldn't be stupid enough to think she just gone after a shirt at 2AM. Hopefully Danni's assessment of the rules was good enough for Nick too.

She caught my expression. "He's cool with it Derek. I told him that I wasn't just chasing the shirt."

I'd probably catch shit over that from Nick, but it'd be worth it. I pulled the ottoman over from the couch. "What are you reading?"

She held her book up. "He's hilarious."

I damn near dropped my coffee and shifted to cover my surprise. She was reading my copy of "Scalia Dissents." I'd never really pictured her reading anything, but Party Girl reading the written dissenting opinions of a Supreme Court Justice was so surreal I wondered if I was still dreaming. "Love him or hate him, he's never boring."

She sat up a little. "I've read it before, but some parts never get old."

I sipped my coffee to cover my shock at the hidden depths of Party Girl. Then tasted the coffee again. "You found my Kona."

"I figured you'd think I was worth it."

There was absolutely no way to argue that without sounding like a complete ass, and besides, if I'd have gotten up first, I would have fixed the same thing. Last night was definitely worth it. "No argument from me."

She flashed a broad smile then carefully closed the book and put it in her lap. "So what are you doing on your day off?"

"I didn't really plan anything, I should probably read over a couple things tonight before class tomorrow."

"You want to meet me down on the canal and get lunch? I have to run by home; I showered, but I'm not going to wander the Canal Walk in either your t-shirt or my club clothes." She stopped suddenly. "Unless you have another lavalava? I could just wear it as a sarong."

I walked back into my room and dug one out -- a watery looking blue and green batik style with sea turtles on it - and took it back out to her.

"You have to be careful with it, my mom picked this one for me to remind me of home."

She stood up and took it almost reverently. "It's gorgeous." She put it gently in the chair, whipped the t-shirt off and wrapped herself in it expertly. "See, fits like it was made for me."

It really did fit, and somehow the color was perfect for her, even if it was a far cry from the metallics and electric neon colors I normally saw her in.

She stalked over into the bathroom to admire herself in the mirror. "I'll have to be careful until we get down to the Walk, but I can grab a pair of flip-flops at that little drug store -- the one on the corner of 12^th, it's probably only a couple blocks from here."

I showered and changed into shorts and t-shirt, then changed the t-shirt for a nicer blue one that kind of matched the sarong for some reason.

We walked down towards the canal. She refused to wear her boots, even to get to the drug store, and for about half a block she picked her way barefoot, watching for glass and rocks.

"Hold on Danni."

I gripped her slender waist and hoisted her up sit on my shoulder. She gave a short gasp, and then easily balanced herself. She sighed. "I could get used to this."

I'll admit I did it to impress her -- I didn't get many chances to show off that didn't involve cracking heads at the club. I walked the two blocks to the drug store while we talked about nothing much in particular. The occasional passerby looked at us as if we were nuts.

As I set her down outside the drug store, an old grey-haired woman looked at us and laughed. She looked at Danni. "That one's a keeper, girl. You don't even need a car."

Danni snickered. "I know, but I have to pay parking fees wherever we go!"

I shook my head. "Try to be a nice guy..."

She reached over and put a hand on my arm, looking a bit serious. "You're always a nice guy Derek, I've known you for over a year now. That's why I showed up last night. Too many assholes out there."

"Well, I'm glad I was at the top of your list."

"It's not exactly a long list. Like I said, there are way too many assholes out there." She plucked a pair of blue flip flops off the rack and pulled a couple bills out of her tiny silver purse. "Where do you want to eat?"

"The Thai place, unless you don't like Thai food."

She lit up. "I love Thai food, especially spicy noodles, Pad Woon Sen."

She really did -- while I ate red curry, she powered through her huge plate of the noodles.

She grinned when she caught me looking at her. "This is comfort food for me. We have a family friend who fixes the best spicy noodles and I've been eating it all my life."

We talked aimlessly for a good hour, first at the restaurant, then walking up and down the Canal Walk. Danni, turned out, really was big on family. She loved her mom and her brothers, but she was a self-admitted "Daddy's girl."

"He's always been about us kids, all the way. Everybody else's dad was too busy, or not interested. Dad made every lacrosse and baseball game. He made time for us, no matter what."

"He run off your boyfriends?"

There was flicker of something in her eyes, but whatever it was, it was gone almost instantly. "I think my brothers scared most of them off, but Dad was hit by a roadside bomb in the Army and he's got some pretty impressive scars that scare the hell out of most of the boys. I thought I'd never get asked to Prom."

"Seriously? As pretty as you are? That's hard to believe."

"My Dad's nickname was Monster before he got blown up. He can be pretty scary."

"Well, I'd have asked you out."

"Says the guy who wouldn't risk getting fired after I flirted with him for almost a year."

"Maybe I was waiting for the right moment?"

She smiled, but it faded almost instantly. "I like you Derek, but this is just fun, okay? I'm not... I can't get into a real relationship right now."

Even though I'd never thought of PeeGee as "relationship material," that just felt wrong to me. But she seemed deadly serious about it. "That's okay, I wasn't looking for anything serious until I pass the Bar anyway."

Her smile seemed a little relieved, but kind of weak at the same time. "So what are your plans?"

"I'm taking the Bar, but I really want to eventually specialize in Maritime Law, get back to Hawaii if I can."

"I love Hawaii, but I spent a lot of time growing up in Fiji. Well, near Fiji anyway."

I couldn't help it, I started laughing.

"What?"

"I've been trying to figure out why you knew about the tattoos and knew what a lavalava was."

"I can do most of the dances too. Fijian, Tahitian, and Hawaiian. I like the story telling of the Hawaiian Hula, but there's nothing like the Fijian or Tahitian dances to tone a girl's abs."

"That solves one mystery. It explains those jackhammer hip movements you used last night."

"I'm pretty sure that's the whole point of those kinds of dances."

"Do you teach those?"

"I'd like to, I'm trying to talk the owners of the studio into letting me teach a ''World Dance'' class. Polynesia, Africa, Asia, that sort of stuff. We already do a big Latin class for adults, but there are a lot of other cool ones out there that people might enjoy."

"Where'd you learn all of them? Other than the Hulas?"

"I actually have a degree in Dance. And yes, it's a real degree." She gave a slight scowl.

I held my hands up defensively. "Hey, I got the benefit it. I'm a believer."

"Sorry, I get a lot of flak for it."

"So are you staying with the studio? Dancing professionally?"

"I like teaching kids, but trying to keep a straight face while some crazed soccer mom is planning her five year old daughter's career in the Bolshoi Ballet is pretty tough. Especially when Mommy's little wonderchild is standing behind her with her finger in her nose to the last knuckle. Not quite sure what I want to do in the long run. Dancers are pretty much a dime a dozen, and unless you get on with a top tier company, the pay sucks nearly as badly as the studio. I'm just not sure where I'm going to go from here. I'm working on a Master's so when I finish that, maybe I'll have a better idea."

We spent the rest of the afternoon just kicking around along the Canal, talking about pretty much anything. It was amazing how much I'd underestimated her over the last year.

We stayed a little later than I planned and as I opened the door to my apartment Danni pushed past me, handing me the lavalava, wearing just flip flops and a wicked "PeeGee" grin. "Ever see a naked Tahitian Hula?"

I never did get around to re-reading the case law for the next day. Danni didn't leave until almost 5:30 in the morning, catching a cab to rush her back to her apartment.

###

First thing in the morning, I got an email from Kelly telling me to meet her at the water fountain in the park next to campus after class.

She was half sitting on the rail when I got there, with a large shopping bag at her feet.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks Kelly. Didn't get much sleep." I tried to suppress a smile at the thought of Danni.

Kelly studied me for a second. "I saw that smile. You got laid last night. Anyone I know?"

I should have expected that. Kelly read people better than anyone. "The only women you know are either drug dealers or hookers. Or drug-dealing hookers."

"Yeah? So? Anyone I know?"

"No. I really don't think you need to worry about my love life."

She smirked. "What love life? I'm trying to decide whether it was your right or left hand. Gotta be the hand; unless Goodyear started making steel belted ones, you're too damn big for a blow up doll."

"Ouch."

She settled in, a bit more serious. "I couldn't get an ID on the three guys on the video. But it was a hit for sure. You owe that long drink of water that plowed into the guy with the spike big-time."

I tried to catch my reaction, but around Kelly that's almost impossible. "Holy shit. That the girl you hooked up with?"

"Kelly..."

She snickered. "Can't fault your taste. I'd kill for legs like hers. Not much in the boob department though."

I just waited; there was really no point to pushing Kelly, especially when she thought she was being funny. Besides, even when her mouth was running in smart ass mode, she was always thinking.

"I did learn one thing, though. No idea what it means. Two other club security guys have been spiked in the last two months. Nobody knows why. They seem to be going for the liver. Low chance of fatality, but seriously painful and disabling. Both the other guys were big guys like you."

"I heard Ted at the Morado was stabbed, just didn't know what happened."

"That big powerlifter at The Stand... Woodely. I think that's his name anyway. Got hit two weeks ago. Weapon wasn't recovered, but the doctors said it could have been a spike."

Woodley was kind of an ass, but more of a blow hard than anything else. Still he had a few pounds on me, and it was mostly muscle, and Ted was bigger than either of us, so the perps were a pretty brave lot. "It almost sounds like someone is big game hunting. Doesn't make any sense."

"I know. There has to be a reason Derek. We just don't know what it is." She hopped down off the rail and hefted the huge shopping bag up, handing it to me with a grunt of effort. "I talked the Lieutenant into letting me take your old vest. They should have gotten rid of it by now anyway. It was already written off the inventory. I wouldn't expect the back to take any more bullets, but it should still be stab resistant. Wear the damn thing."

"I will."

"Seriously, this feels fucked up." She had more worry in her eyes than a simple case of lunacy would warrant. And the Lieutenant must have felt the same way or he'd have refused to let her take the vest.

###

As I promised Kelly, I started wearing the vest to work. Not all vests are stab proof, and the ones that are stab proof can have trouble with spikes. The department had made a consolidated buy with the county sheriff and they purchased the same vests for patrol officers and jailers. One of the biggest threats to jailers is spikes, so they bought vests with that in mind. The vest was a bit bulky, but still worked under my shirts.

We were all a little edgy for next few weeks couple weeks, but nothing really happened. PeeGee showed up as usual at the club and acted exactly the same as she always had. I even checked her purse again, a little more seriously, trying to figure out how she could be the same girl who'd spent the day with me.