Chapter 11 #3
“I walked in on them dishing out a beating while I was off duty and by throwing a punch I made them the victims; they could’ve pressed charges against me. I was lucky they didn’t. Can you imagine the headlines?”
“Didn’t the police look into them?”
“They’ve been on the force’s radar for years, but organized crime gangs like these have long root networks; they franchise.”
“So, what, they’re still carrying on as normal?” Casey asked.
“Why wouldn’t they? And anyway, it wouldn’t make any difference; it’s a massive operation. You could shut it down tomorrow and a new branch would spring up again the next day.”
“Not if you catch them all,” argued Casey.
Ajay gave a mirthless laugh. “They’re not Pokémon.”
Casey narrowed her eyes at him.
“Look,” he said, spreading his hands out, “without wanting to be a mansplainer, these kinds of networks are built on the shoulders of inherited racism, bigotry, toxic masculinity, and the innate belief that everyone is stealing something they feel they’re owed.
They are perpetually angry and fueled by a perverse kind of righteous indignation. ”
“That’s a powerful combination.”
“It is. And until you deal with all the stuff that built the beast, you can’t knock it down.
It’s like that monster from Greek mythology—the Hydra.
If you chop its head off, it just grows two more.
It feeds off the disenfranchised and the desperate, and any environment of generational poverty is easy pickings. ”
Casey nodded. “I can see how people, especially youngsters, might get sucked in. I mean, if society isn’t offering them a viable alternative, then they’re ripe for being exploited by people like that.”
He gave her a wan smile. “Yeah. Grim, isn’t it?”
Shona—beloved waitress of all who frequented The Greasy Spoon—arrived for her shift at the café and brought over their breakfasts and the smell of winter on her clothes.
They thanked her and proceeded to grab for the ketchup at the same time.
“After you,” said Ajay, moving to butter his toast instead.
His honesty had stirred something within her, something she’d forgotten that she was allowed to hope for.
He cared deeply about people, about society; his compassion was expansive, wide enough even that he sought to understand the motives of people who would do him harm.
It was appealing. Flipping heck! Who did he think he was, baring his soul over plates of eggs and bacon and making her want to spend hours gazing into his eyes and discussing politics until way past her bedtime?
Ajay Williams was a singular threat to her self-restraint, and she was in great danger of crushing hard on him. It may already have been too late.
She cleared her throat. “Will Jared start school here?”
“College,” Ajay replied, scooping beans onto the piece of hash brown on his fork. “In January.”
“And he’s happy about that?” She swiped up a pool of egg yolk with her toast.
He let his gaze drift to the ceiling before coming back to her. “Happy’s a strong word.”
From the little time she’d spent with the two of them together, she could guess Jared’s sentiments on the subject. “How’s it been having your nephew living with you? It must be quite a change.”
He grimaced and then sighed. “It’s not easy. We clash more than I’d like. Aside from him being bored out of his skull and me worrying about what he’s up to when I’m working, he blames me for landing him here.” He took a swig of tea. “He’s right, it is my fault he’s here. If I hadn’t intervened…”
“Then he might have been seriously hurt,” Casey cut in. “And he’d still be a target. I’m sure deep down he knows that.”
“He thinks I’m a hypocrite. I was always telling him to ignore the hate, be the bigger person; when they go low, we go high.”
“Ah, you’ve gotta love Michelle.” She smiled.
“Exactly. Only when I saw them beating on Jared, I went in swinging, which my nephew likes to remind me of almost daily. And the thing is, at what point is taking the high road just allowing the arseholes to get away with it?”
“I honestly don’t know,” she replied, wishing she had a better answer for him.
“Anyway,” said Ajay, shaking himself. “Now you know all about me, and I know nothing about you. That doesn’t seem very fair.”
“There’s not much to tell,” she said, smiling as she raised her emotional drawbridge.
“I doubt that,” he said, studying her face.
She felt herself blushing. Pull yourself together! “What would you like to know?”
He smiled. “Oh, you know, the usual: Do you have any pets, partners, or prior convictions?”
She laughed. “No, definitely no, and no.”
“Why definitely no partner?”
“Let’s just say that I was so replete after my ex-partner’s exceptional bullshit that I am now intolerant to dating.” This is good. Get it all out on the table. If he knows I don’t date, he’ll stop flirting with me and I can stop being tempted to flirt back.
He burst out a laugh and then tried to smother it. “I’m sorry, you took me by surprise with that one. So, you’re dating intolerant.”
Gosh, she liked making him laugh. She tried to keep her own face straight when she replied, “I am.”
“Have you considered reintroducing certain types of dates? Maybe checking their credentials for bullshit?”
Now she laughed. “I must confess I have steered clear of all dates to be on the safe side. You can’t be too careful.”
Did his smile falter just a little? She experienced a small twinge of disappointment deep in her belly at being the cause of it.
“When we met, you said you grew up in Essex, what brought you to Weaverston?” Ajay asked, clearly changing the subject.
“My brother moved here, and I followed. I like it, it’s a nice town.” It was technically the truth.
“And how long have you worked at the store?”
She grinned. “Are you interviewing me, Officer Williams?”
He grinned back. “No, madam, I am only trying to ascertain the facts.”