"But the problem," Jack admitted, "is the aftereffects. Afterwards, I either want to gun down every gangster I see… or I can't stop thinking about sex. Like a damned nympho."
Cultural gap or not, he hadn't expected the beautiful psychiatrist to respond so directly.
"Do you feel the urge to shoot at random passersby? Or attack women in public?" Maureen asked evenly.
Jack shook his head quickly. "No. Never. It's more like… I feel this obsessive disgust for criminals. Like OCD. I can rationally suppress it, but inside, I'm burning."
"And the other impulse?" Maureen pressed.
Jack hesitated, scratching his cheek. "Uh… I keep imagining Zoe."
"Only Zoe?" Her tone stayed calm, but her eyes flickered.
Wait… is this girl with glasses actually into me? Jack's pulse jumped. His new psychology skill wasn't strong, but his ability to read people had leveled up. He dropped his gaze, stammering like an embarrassed kid.
"Well… sometimes Hannah. And uh… maybe you?"
Maureen's lips parted. "So, only women you already know? Not strangers?" She paused, then added, "I heard your training officer Angela is considered a beauty." She nibbled her lip lightly, as if it were just a passing thought, but the faint blush creeping into her ears told a different story.
Bingo. She is tempted. Jack's heart surged, but his face stayed calm.
"I respect Angela," he said firmly. "She's like family. I could never think that way about her."
"And yet…" Maureen tilted her teacup, thoughtful. "Your most urgent problem is managing these aftereffects." She paused, then offered, "How about this: next time it happens, call me. I keep an office at Central Hospital. I can run hormone tests. We'll find out if this is physiological or psychological."
Jack blinked. "Uh… are you sure? That sounds like a lot of trouble."
She smiled. "Relax, big boy. It'll be off the books. Call it a private favor. If you really feel guilty, buy me dinner. I've always wanted to taste your cooking."
Jack grinned. "Deal. Thank you, Maureen."
He hugged her warmly before leaving. What he didn't see was the way she lingered at the door, watching his back with conflicted eyes.
As soon as he was gone, Maureen locked the door, pulled out her phone, and called Zoe with the giddiness of a teenager.
"Hey, your boy just left. Yes, he told me everything. Don't worry—it's nothing serious. And relax, I know he's yours. I'd never cross that line. But Zoe… he's remarkable. Determined, self-disciplined, like one of those old-school movie tough guys. Why did you get to meet him first? You lucky woman…"
For the next day and a half, Jack buried himself in errands—bank paperwork, community college enrollment. Even community college in America cost a fortune, more than police academy training. Luckily, LAPD covered student loans, making the badge one of the few stable paths left for the middle class.
I just wonder if the George Floyd mess will happen in this version of America, Jack mused grimly. If it does, cops will be thrown under the bus, no matter how good the pay.
He resolved to finish college fast. Once he had a degree, he'd aim higher—detective, FBI, anything off the streets. Better to climb up than end up with a bullet in the skull on patrol.
The Hunter Visit
On his third day of leave, it was finally Hannah's turn. During the drug bust, she and Angela hadn't fired, and now she was buzzing with excitement—today, they would visit Detective Hunter and Dee Dee McCall.
She stormed into Jack's attic room at dawn, practically bouncing on her heels. Jack groaned, dragged himself up, and made breakfast, yawning the whole way.
By 9 a.m., Hannah's striped Mustang pulled up in front of a cozy villa on Maryland Street. Jack climbed out, gift bag in hand—a bottle of aged whiskey from the old grocery store. Hannah carried roses.
But as they crossed the lawn, Jack frowned. The landscaping was meticulous, but neglected. Weeds pushed up through the roses. The air felt… off.
Hannah glanced at him, her excitement dimming.
The door opened. Dee Dee McCall herself appeared, still radiant despite the years.
"Mrs. Hunter, it's so good to see you," Hannah said, hugging her and passing the flowers.
"Hello, Hannah," Dee Dee said warmly, her smile lighting up her features. "It's wonderful to see you again." She glanced at Jack, curiosity flickering.
Jack handed over the whiskey with a polite nod, but his instincts were already buzzing. Something wasn't right here.
(End of Chapter)