“What was it you liked most?” Landeta asked.
Louis shifted, uncomfortable. There was an unfamiliar sense of intimacy hovering over the table, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He had talked shop with lots of guys, but it was always bullshit, no real words or emotions. And he sure as hell wasn’t used to anything personal coming from Landeta. He suspected the admission about the blindness that night in his apartment was nothing but a temporary slit, an emotional wormhole opening into a black space for a millisecond before closing up again.
But now Landeta wanted to talk. He needed to talk. More than that, he needed someone to sit here and listen.
“Well?” Landeta asked.
Louis wet his lips, staring at his Coke. “I liked the mystery,” he said. “I just liked solving the damn mystery. And even in cases where there was no mystery about who, I always wanted to know why.”
Louis waited to see if Landeta laughed. But Landeta was just looking at him through the yellow glasses. Finally, he picked up his sweating glass. The cocktail napkin stuck for a moment, then fell to the table. Landeta reached for the salt, shook some out onto the napkin, and set the glass down. When he picked up the glass again, it didn’t stick.
“Old bartender’s trick,” he said when he saw Louis looking at him. Louis looked over at the two off-duty cops. They were sitting there, both staring silently into the mirror over the bar, sipping their beers.
Louis looked back at Landeta. “So what about you?”
“What did I like best?”
“Yeah.”
Landeta leaned forward on his elbows. “A lot of guys say it’s the power, the authority trip, you know? And there’s the whole thing about wanting to help people, but that wears off real quick.”
Louis nodded slowly. “So what was left for you? I mean, when it wore off?”
Landeta’s brows were knit, like he was thinking about the question for the first time and not coming up with anything that made sense.
“You got any brothers or sisters?” he asked finally.
Louis hesitated. “Yeah, one of each, both older.” But I haven’t seen them since I was seven and I don’t know where they are or even if they are alive.
“I was an only child,” Landeta said. “My father died when I was eleven. A couple of months later, my mom dropped me off at my Aunt Shirl’s and left for the bright lights of Indianapolis. I went out on my own at seventeen, bummed around the country for a couple of years until I ended up down in Pensacola. Worked on an oyster boat for a year and eventually joined the police force there when I was twenty.”
Landeta took a drink and set the glass down. “I remember my first roll call, sitting there in that room of blue shirts. It was the first time in my life I felt I was part of something.”
“A family,” Louis said.
Landeta smiled. “Yeah, but a family you could get away from when you went home at night. That’s what I liked most about it.”
Landeta’s smile faded and he picked up his glass, swirling the ice around. “Aunt Shirl. Haven’t thought about her in years. What a tough old bird, about as tender as those damn skinny chickens running around out in her yard. But I did learn one thing from her —- that there were no free rides in life, that I had to earn my keep.”
They fell into silence again. Louis watched as the two cops at the bar got up and left. He looked back at Landeta and saw that he had also been watching the cops.
“Did you tell Horton?” Louis asked. “About your condition, I mean?”
Landeta nodded. “At least he doesn’t think I’m a burnout anymore. I don’t know what’s worse, pity or contempt.”
Louis looked down into his glass.
“Horton said he’d try to find me something on a desk,” Landeta said. “I said thanks but no thanks. I don’t need any free rides.”
“Shit, Mel, is that why you quit? Because you think you’re useless now?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what?”
Landeta’s lips drew back in a small smile. “Now I can do everything you can do.”
Louis just stared at him. Then slowly, it hit him. That day back in Horton’s office, when the chief had asked him to work on this case with Landeta “unofficially.” No pay, no badge, but with the implicit understanding that with fewer legal restraints, Louis could do things that Landeta could not.
“I want to finish this,” Landeta said.
Louis was stunned. “You quit so you could freelance?”
“Why not? You do. It’s why Horton put you on the case,” Landeta said. “Besides to babysit me, I mean.”