The chief paused, obviously not missing the note of sarcasm in Andrew’s tone. But as in most things he did, Andrew kept it just shy of crossing the line. The chief narrowed his eyes, leveling a stare at the man that would’ve made someone more intelligent piss their pants. “I’ve about had my fill today, Morris.”
Andrew saluted.
The chief turned, muttering as he left the locker room.
Marlon started to look at Andrew, then changed his mind. “See you out there.”
“Yep. It’s gonna be a good day.”
Marlon didn’t respond as he walked away. The cheer in Andrew’s voice told him exactly what the day was going to be like and confirmed what his gut had already known. So much so that he didn’t wait once he closed the door behind him in Chief Schmidt’s office. “Everyone knows, don’t they?”
Charles Schmidt leaned against the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “Yep. Sure do. Your little shit of a partner made sure of that.” He shrugged. “Actually I think only a few know at this point. Seems Andrew made a little announcement in the locker room this afternoon. Came in early to do so. Those who don’t know, soon will.”
Marlon’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a groan. He couldn’t do this. He was already the black cop. Or one oftheblack cops. Now he’d be the black gay cop.Fuck.
“I’ve pulled Morris in here already and read him the riot act, but you can see how well that went over. With his family connections, he’ll have to do something so—”
“I know.” Marlon waved him off, then stood straighter, realizing he’d interrupted the chief. “Sorry, sir.”
Schmidt just nodded. His tone took on an atypical fatherly concern. “Maybe this will be for the best. You know I don’t condone the gay thing, but living in secret isn’t good for the soul, son.”
“Yeah.” He really did sound like Marlon’s father. Marlon glanced up, meeting the man’s hard yet kind eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this, Chief. I’ll be nothing more than that black gay cop. Nothing else.”
The chief snorted. “Oh, you mean like I’m that black chief? The one who got my position because Denver needed to meet a certain number ofcoloreds, not because I’m the best chief Denver has had in the past thirty years?”
There was some relief that the chief knew part of what Marlon was facing. “Maybe if I simply had to face the gay thing. Be the gay cop, like Chip Moon. He does okay. But gay and black. With Andrew as a partner, I just—”
“Enough.” Chief Schmidt’s bark cut off Marlon and caused him to stand at attention. “Nothing new, Officer Barton. So you got another label. Big fucking deal. This isn’t new to you. You’ve always had to be better, stronger, and tougher to be equal. Now you have to do it twice as much. Quit bitching and get better, stronger, and tougher.”
Somewhere deep inside, in a voice Marlon rarely allowed breath,Not fair!rang through him. He stamped it down. “Yes, sir.”
The chief’s expression softened somewhat. “And I’m working on the Andrew thing. I know you don’t think I am, but I am. Somehow a moment will come. I don’t care what color you are or what sex you like. No cop should face our job with that idiot by their side every day, especially not one of my best.”
Marlon started to respond, but then his throat tightened and he didn’t trust himself.
“Now get out of here. Your partner is waiting.”
Marlon turned and reached for the door.
“Oh, and Barton?”
Marlon glanced back at the chief. “Yes, sir?”
A grin played over the man’s lips. “Don’t shoot the moron today, no matter how much he deserves it.”
Five hours in and it had been one of the better days Marlon had ever had with Andrew. The tension was so thick he could barely see through the windshield, but the man had never been quieter. Even on the stops they’d made, Andrew either let Marlon handle them completely or stayed respectful. It was almost enough to make Marlon think the guy had potential to be a decent cop after all.
As evening arrived, clouds that had hung above the mountains most of the day rolled over the foothills and settled above the city, increasing the odd spring humidity. When at last thunder cracked and lightning forked through the sky, Marlon and Andrew were just leaving a situation at the 16th Street Mall that had taken the help of four other cops to handle. They hadn’t drawn the short straw and didn’t have to mess with booking the two strung-out teenagers who’d taken street sign poles to the store windows.
Rain began to fall as Marlon turned onto 17th and passed where the old Wrangler bar used to be. He kept his gaze from wandering over to the spot, as if looking at the old gay bar would rush in the conversation he’d been avoiding all day.
It seemed he should’ve avoided the street altogether. Andrew spoke just as they drove past. He motioned a little farther up to the pizzeria that used to be the old JR’s Bar & Grill. “It must be hard for you.”
From Andrew’s tone, Marlon knew this wasn’t going to go well, but he couldn’t stop himself from responding. “What must be hard?”
“You know. Seeing your old stomping grounds give way to yuppies with money who’d rather have restaurants and fancy grocery stores.”
Marlon tried to think what to say, but there was a strange onslaught of disjointed words and static that ran through his head.
