This is a work of fiction, using characters from the film, “LA Confidential". No insult or invasion of privacy or infringement of copyright is intended. The story is for readers over the age of 18 only, and contains adult language. The writer is not responsible for any "discomfort" caused to the reader by this language and these situations.
Shadows
©2007 by: C4C
CHAPTER THREE
He spent a couple of useless hours trying to attack the stack of paperwork on his desk, but it was no use, his mind was a mess. Finally, at four o’clock, he decided to look up Rocco. He tried a couple of his haunts including a rummy-looking bar downtown. Rocco wasn’t around, so he had himself a stiff drink and headed home.
He turned on the car radio, trying t to lighten his dark mood and heard the song from the movie he and Lynn had seen a while ago:
“…then your fingers touched my silent heart and taught it how to sing/Yes, true love’s a m many splendored thing…”
Lynn had cried her eyes out as they watched that movie, her head resting against his shoulder. And he had to comfort her all the way through it. He smiled to himself: he had never enjoyed a movie more.
Then, he remembered, with a pang that he hadn’t talked to her all day. “Selfish bastard,” he swore to himself, and headed to the nearest florist shop where he bought her a bunch of daisies, her favorite.
Lynn had showered and washed her hair when she got home and started to dress for dinner., but, feeling the need to relax first, she slipped on the pretty white dressing gown he had given her for Christmas, made drinks for the both of them and took them out to the front porch. She sat on the glider to wait for him. Few minutes, went by and he drove up.
As he came up the driveway, loosening his tie, he saw that she looked a little pale. It had not been his imagination.
“Hi, doll,” he said tenderly, and from behind his back, handed her the flowers.
Her face lit up. “What’s this for?”
“Cause I love you.”
“And I love you.” She brought his face down to hers in what she hoped would be a long kiss, but could tell immediately something was wrong. “Are you okay?”
“Never mind about me,” he said, firmly. “I mean it, Lynn. You haven’t been feeling well, have you?”
“Wow, do I look that bad?”
Without replying, Bud straightened up, took his glass and headed into the kitchen. He swallowed it, poured another scotch and went into the bedroom.
‘Oh God,’ she thought, ‘what’s happened now?’
She took her time arranging the flowers in a vase, and finally went into the bedroom to set them on the night stand. Bud had taken off his shoes and his shirt and was lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She sat down beside him and waited.
Finally, he patted the space between them. She smoothly slid next to her husband. He reached for one of the flowers and undid the lace to her robe and traced one of her bare nipples with the petals. The delicate sensation immediately made her crane her neck with ecstasy. Despite everything, her body was churning for him. When his mouth finally met hers, she pressed against him eagerly. Then, just as suddenly, he fell back against the bed.
"Sorry, baby," he choked.
Now she was truly alarmed. Even in their earlier relationship, when he would have periods of black depression that sometimes went on for days, his physical need for her had only increased. It was as if her body had been the only emotional salve that could treat the gaping emotional wounds he was suffering from. But now, this seemed worse. It was like he had tried to return to her but couldn't. These thoughts were zinging through her brain as she held his hand tightly and she heard herself say, "It's okay, Bud, it's okay." She lay next to her and he was very still for the longest time.
"Wanda paid me a visit," she finally heard him say, his voice muffled and hoarse.
'What in the world is he talking about? Wanda?' She searched her mind wildly, then remembered.
"Wanda? Your Aunt? The one who took you in--after--after--"
"The shit's sister. Yeah."
"Well, what did she want?"
"Damned if I know. Damned if I care."
"Honey, what a shock!"
He didn't reply. He was trembling, slightly. Lynn cradled his head in her arms. Finally he relaxed and fell asleep.
Bud slept fitfully and finally rolled away from Lynn, trying not to wake her. Dressing quietly, he left the house and pointed the car west, down Sunset, towards the beach. His mind was still in turmoil and he was damned if he was going to put his wife through any more shit this morning. She wasn't feeling well, no matter what she said.
Parking the car near the pier, he got out and walked the length of the dock to gaze out at the ocean. The sea had had a calming effect on him since the time he had run away and ended up in California all those years ago.
'What the hell?' he thought. What the hell could Wanda do anymore and what made him think he was obligated to see her again? He didn't fucking have to and he didn't want to. He wanted her in the past, where she belonged, with her fucking brother, and he wanted to be in the present, with Lynn. Where he belonged.
Lynn woke up to find him gone and sat up, alarmed. Never, unless he was called to work on an emergency during the night did Bud leave her in the morning, without saying goodbye. She looked at the clock. It was almost seven. She called the precinct. He wasn't there, so she asked for Ed.
"Captain Exley," said the familiar voice.
"Hi, Ed."
Ed smiled at hearing her sensuous, breathy voice. White was a lucky bastard. "Hi, Lynn."
"You haven't seen Bud yet, have you?"
"No, not yet." A pause. "Everything okay?"
"Oh--fine," she said, vaguely, "he just left before I had a chance to tell him something.”
Ed rolled his eyes. "I'll keep an eye out for him."
"Thanks."
At that moment, Bud walked in. Ed knew his partner well and could see he'd had a bad night. It still happened, once in a while. "Call Lynn," he said, without preamble. "Sounds like she's worried about you.”
Bud turned and headed into his office. It was obvious to Ed that he still didn't have a clue.
Lynn got up and headed straight for the bathroom. It was as if her body, having gotten the official word, was taking action, accordingly. She gave up all thought of going to work.
She was lying, prone on the couch, with a washcloth on her forehead. The phone was right within her reach. When it rang, she grabbed it. "Bud?"
"Yeah."
"Thank goodness. I was so worried."
"I just needed to sort some things out."
"And did you?"
"Yeah. I think I did."
"Would you come home for lunch, please? I really need to see you."
"You aren't going in, today?"
"No. I'm --uh-- I'm not feeling so hot."
"I knew it," he exclaimed. "I'm coming home, right now."
Before she could answer, he put the phone down and headed back to Ed's office.
"I have to go--something's wrong with Lynn."
Ed kept his eyes trained on his paperwork. "Okay."
"I'll--uh, I'll be back as soon as I can, I know things are busy--"
"Bud. Go home and take care of your wife."
Ed watched him leave, with a mixture of delight and a little envy mixed in. He leaned back in his seat and allowed himself a smile. Sometimes he found it almost impossible to remember a time when he had actually hated Bud, had thought of him as "a mindless thug". He was anything, but. Bud hadn't told him much, just bits and pieces, but he knew that Bud's mother had died when he was just a kid, and that he'd had it rough. Very rough. He scoffed at himself. He hadn't known him, at all. It seemed like a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime ago.
Bud walked into the living room to find Lynn on the couch and looking wan. He stood over her, nothing but concern in his eyes.
"How long have you been feeling this way, and I want the truth."
"Yes, Officer."
"That's not funny--"
"Okay, okay, about two weeks, now."
"Two weeks? Christ. That's it, get dressed, we're going to the doctor." He reached for the phone.
"Bud, put it down, it's not what you think. Talk to me."
Reluctantly, he let the handset drop back into the cradle and sat down beside her.
"Do you really feel okay? You were so upset, last night--"
"I said I'm fine, now that's enough shit about me. You're the one who's sick--"
"I'm not sick."
"What? I--"
"I said, I'm not sick." She took a deep breath. "I'm expecting. A baby. We're going to have a baby."
He stared at her. She could swear his eyes glazed over and she tried not to laugh.
"Are you sure," he croaked.
"Very sure. I talked to the doctor, yesterday, he said I'm about six weeks along and there's a rabbit somewhere that gave up its life to prove it."
Bud swallowed hard, completely speechless. He wrapped her in his arms and she felt him place his hand over her stomach. They stayed like that for a while, simply holding each other until she finally made him go back to work.
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