Free One Foot Off the Gutter by Peter Plate Page A

job.

    â€œMust be interesting. I always thought cops were exotic. Like fascinating,” Doreen said.
    Bellamy was stoked by her attitude. “Yeah, I guess we are,” he replied.
    He could tell Doreen was interested in him. He knew she saw him as a steady wage earner. That was no small deal for a woman with two mouths to feed. Wait until I tell her I’m homeless. That’ll be a laugh, Bellamy thought.
    He liked her smile. Just look at her mouth. It was made for bloodsucking kisses. It was a funny thing how short women with big legs and full breasts were dynamite in bed. He was sure she was a hurricane in between the sheets. Catholic girls like Doreen had the fire of the church in them.
    â€œI bet you bite a guy when you kiss him good night,” he said.
    It was so crude, she was caught off guard. She found she wasn’t offended. What a guy; he flirted like an ape.
    â€œI like a deep kiss,” she laughed.
    Â 
    When they left the bar, Bellamy was feeling tipsy. That wasn’t surprising because he hadn’t eaten a damn thing all day long. He was pleased when Doreen consented to let him escort her home.
    Neither of them said anything during the ride to the Sunset district. The squad car was filthy, but Doreen didn’t seem to mind. Or if she did, she didn’t say anything about it. Both of them were content to watch the fog through the cracked windshield.
    When they got to her apartment, a cozy duplex nestled
under the slopes of Mount Davidson, she invited him in for a cup of tea.
    â€œYou don’t have to if you don’t want to. But the kids are spending the night at my mother’s.”
    The words trailed off into an excited silence. Bellamy was at one end of the silence. Doreen was at the other end, reeling him in with her soft brown eyes. Holy shit. She was putting the make on him. That was the last thing he’d expected from her. It put a new take on the scene. He chuckled behind the steering wheel. She hadn’t said a word about the dirty laundry in the back seat. He was liking her more and more. Doreen knew how to give a man some room. Bellamy tapped his fingers on the dashboard. A few stars were peeking out from the fog bank hovering over Mount Davidson. Everything was going smooth. All he had to do was ask a dangerous question, then he’d be sitting pretty.
    â€œWhat about your husband? Won’t he mind me coming upstairs?”
    â€œI don’t have a husband,” Doreen said quickly,
    It was an answer he’d been waiting to hear; for how long, he couldn’t recall. He just knew, that whatever loneliness he’d been going through lately, it had ended on this young woman’s doorstep.
    That had turned out to be the beginning of a great night. Young women like Doreen O’Malley were fortified with an extra powerful sex drive. Bellamy was sore when he woke up in her bed the following morning. He was ecstatic when Coddy met him at the station that afternoon. He wanted to tell his partner about his adventure. But to Bellamy’s dismay, Coddy was in a foul mood.

fourteen
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    Â 
    i want that building,” I groused. “I can’t stand the sight of a good house like that going to waste.”
    Bellamy rolled a toothpick around in his mouth. I knew he wasn’t worrying about anything. Making love to the girl he’d mentioned had infused my partner with unexpected tranquility. It was no excuse for the casual remark he made.
    â€œDon’t you think you’re going too far with this, Coddy? I mean, c’mon, man. You sound like you’re developing an obsession or something.”
    We were in the station’s locker room, loading our cartridge belts with extra clips. We always felt better after checking our weapons. It was a ritual neither of us could live without. The soft-hard, oily feel of the bullets in our hands allowed for a certain serenity. And the guns on our belts? Convictions