Sandwich
They started off in a whisper.
"I heard she came in today."
"Here? Man, talk about balls."
"Her, or him?"
"Both."
"She who?"
"We're talkin' about Aquino and his new girlfriend."
"That was his girlfriend?"
"Unless he has a long-lost daughter."
"When did this happen?"
"Just today; weren't you listening?"
"No, I mean, when did Aquino get a girlfriend?"
"Rumors have been flying since Thursday -- he went home early."
"Aquino *never* goes home early."
"Exactly."
"That doesn't mean he has a girlfriend."
"On Friday, I noticed his tie was straight."
"He wore a tie?"
"Where've you been? I've seen him wear a tie lots of times."
"I never noticed."
"I've noticed. It's always a little off to the left. Except Friday it was straight."
"You *would* notice, Lewis."
"It's little flaws like that that make a man attractive. You know he's real."
"In that case, you must have the hots for O'Brien. --Nice mustard stain, O'Brien."
"I said *little* flaws. O'Brian, do you hit on the sales girls when you buy your clothes?"
"Hell yes. Why?"
"It shows."
"Hey, I don't wanna hear about O'Brien, I wanna hear about this mystery girl. Is she hot?"
"Always the first question. Typical male."
"Does a bear shit on a funny hat? Does the pope go bare in the woods?"
"Huh?"
"Nevermind."
"So a guy finally notices his tie is crooked. That doesn't mean anything."
"After five years? It means he has a girlfriend."
"Well, Lewis' tie theory aside, *she* came in today, asked where his desk was. She lit up when she saw him. I never saw a girl so happy to see somebody."
"That's because you're a lousy lay, Murphy."
"Fuck you, Ackerman."
"No thanks."
"She was in here? When? Shit, I missed it."
"Lunchtime. It was quite a show."
"Oh, fuck, dude, tell me about it. I ran into her in the elevator. What a body!"
"And it's like she has no idea she's even hot."
"God, you men are unbelieveable!"
"Shut up, Lewis, I saw you checkin' her out."
"Yeah, Lewis, you thinkin' 'bout switchin' sides?"
"Whadda you care? Ain't like I'm givin' you a taste either way."
"Aww, Lewis, can't you let a guy down easy?"
"Aww, Murphy, can't you get it up easy?"
"Shh! Here he comes!"
Noel saw the group of detectives quickly scattering and looking busy. They were no doubt talking about Angela. Letting the assumptions fly. But if Noel addressed it, no matter what he said, it would only serve to reinforce their own salacious conclusions. He gritted his teeth.
The room was so quiet, it could have been used to film a commercial for long distance.
After a few pregnant moments, Noel had to leave -- too much tension.
"See, he's going home on time again."
"No he's not. It's bowling night. He always gets there first."
"You think he knows?"
"Knows what?"
"That we were talking about him."
"We weren't talking about him; we were talking about her."
"Okay, but we were thinking about him."
"Speak for yourself, Ackerman. I was thinking about *her*."
"You know what I mean. We were talking about both of 'em."
"Well of course he knows we're talking about him. He's a detective. He's not stupid."
"But *you're* a detective."
"Fuck you, O'Brien."
"So you were about to tell me what I missed."
"Get this... she brought him lunch."
"No fuckin' way!"
"Wait, you mean like a sandwich?"
"No, prime rib and a baked potato." Ears were boxed. "Of course, a sandwich, you dolt!"
"Damn, if she's already bringin' him lunch..."
"...and straightening his tie..."
"I bet she's got a ring already picked out."
"I bet he's already put the cuffs on her."
"Damn, Lewis, you're a freak."
"Lewis, you like to be handcuffed?"
"Don't you, Murphy?" Lewis rolled her eyes.
"So... so... when she brought him the sandwich, what happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, how'd he react?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know, like... surprised? Guilty?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Honestly, I wasn't watching Aquino that closely."
"Lewis?"
"I don't know. Aquino's not an easy guy to read."
"Yeah, you were too busy checkin' out the girl too, I bet."
"Whatever."
"So what was she, you know, what was she wearing?"
"Oh, you shoulda seen it. Little white skirt -- legs for days -- and a tight little pink tank top. Perfect little tits."
"Hey, hey... watch it with the 'tits' stuff."
"Oh, like you're gonna get all 'sexual harassment' on us, Lewis?"
"Aww, she's probably just jealous."
"I'm not jealous." She paused. "But I wouldn't call 'em 'little' either."
"I knew you were a switch-hitter, Lewis!"
"Only because none of you can satisfy me."
"Yeah, well, I saw her with Ricky at the mall on Saturday. She had the boy weighed down with so many bags I thought he was gonna collapse."
"How can she afford all that on a hot dog stand girl's paycheck?"
"Well, duh..." Head cocked quickly toward Aquino's empty desk.
"No shit! Got herself a sugar daddy."
"On a detective's salary, that won't last long. And she works at a fabric store, not a hot dog stand."
"Okay, even better -- you'd think she'd be making her own clothes, not buying out the mall."
"Wait, wait, you didn't hear the best part!"
"What?"
"Lewis, you tell him."
"Why?"
"You were the one who noticed it."
"Noticed what?"
"There was this graphic on her shirt -- right across the chest, you know? Ohhh..." Hands made alternate squeezing motions.
"What?"
"I thought it was just some logo, but Lewis here figured it out. I guess she wasn't afraid of getting caught staring at the girl's rack."
"What?" The suspense was maddening.
"It said 'Princess,'" Lewis said, sighing in disgust.
"No fuckin' way."
"Way."
"No Fuckin' Way!"
"No lie. Princess."
"What, is she trying to get him arrested?"
"For what? She's eighteen."
"Stop it, Lewis, you're giving me a woody."
"You weren't here earlier."
"He's making up for lost time."
"How do you know she's eighteen?"
"She's that girl. The one whose house blew up."
"How do you know?"
"It was my case originally, before Aquino took it over. I recognized her from photo albums at the scene. Cute kid. Too bad about the mom."
"Man, I can't believe she came in here with 'Princess' on her shirt."
"And nothing on underneath."
"Jesus, Lewis, give me a heart attack already."
"Can't wait to see what she brings him tomorrow."
"I can't believe Noel actually scored a babe like that."
"Who says he's scored? She's probably just teased the shit out of him."
"She's probably doing his kid."
"I should hope one of them is gettin' some. She's livin' with 'em."
"Get out!"
"Swear to God."
"How do you know?"
"I saw her there."
"You *followed* her? So that's where you went this afternoon. Fuckin' perv."
"Living with him? No wonder he always looks like shit lately."
"Except for his straight tie."
"Little Miss Hottie's probably wearing the poor guy out."
"Or he's wearing himself out." Lewd hand gesture.
"Man, a former case living with him? Doesn't that like violate some policy?"
"God, I hope not."
"Like anything even remotely like that would happen to you. I've seen your apartment. Even the roaches moved out."
"Shut up, O'Brien."
"Well, I never knew Aquino had it in him."
"Well, by now he's prob'ly had it in her."
"It'd be a crime if he didn't."
"No wonder he's been going home early."
"I would too."
"Yeah, well, I better not have to pick up the slack for him."
"Not unless he shares some o' that."
High five. "I'm down!"
Wham!
The conspiring detectives whirled around. There was a phone book on the floor. How long had Noel been standing there?
"Are you quite finished?" Noel said angrily. The detectives were suddenly very sheepish. "You people are incredible. That girl's been through hell, and you talk about her like she's some kind of *whore*." The word had that drawn-out intonation that only a proper religious person could deliver. "There is *nothing* going on between us." Noel stared at each of them in turn; they averted their eyes. "Not that it's any of your *fucking* business." The profanity shocked them; they could count on one hand the number of times Detective Aquino had used any kind of profanity in their presence.
"She was here today because I asked Dr. Ward to meet with her. She wakes up screaming every night because of what those bastards did. *That's* why I 'look like shit' every day. Last night I almost couldn't calm her down, and she got so worked up she couldn't breathe; I thought she was having a heart attack. Dr. Ward put her on Xanax -- serious stuff. *You* try dealing with a girl who keeps reliving the moment you told her that her mom was killed. You insensitive assholes!"
"Sorry," one of them finally managed. "We... didn't know."
Noel suddenly crossed the room; they flinched when he leaned in to address them more closely. The normally mild-mannered senior detective had never looked so intense. He lowered his voice, taking a measured, ominous tone. "And if I ever catch any one of you looking at her the way you did today, I will gouge your eyes out with a *spork* and use your severed head to pick up the 7-10 split." He practically spat the word 'spork,' causing them to flinch again. After a moment's pause, Noel turned and left.
It was a long time before any of them spoke.
"Fuck me," Lewis finally said. No one made a lewd comment in response.
"Somebody's wound a little tight."
"Wouldn't you be, if you came home to that sweet piece of ass and couldn't touch it?"
O'Brien begged off. "Dude, I'm not even going within ten miles of that. It's not *even* funny anymore."
"Yeah, that's fucked up. I didn't know she was here to see the doc. The poor thing."
"Poor Aquino. I didn't know it was him that told her. To go through that again every night? Talk about guilt."
"Guilt or not, there's something going on there. I mean, Jesus, you ever heard him swear like that? And the thing with the spork, and the bowling with your head?"
"Let's hope he takes out that anger on the pins tonight."
"Man, I'm giving him a *wide* berth. The guy's lost it. It's like we were talking about his wife."
"Or his daughter."