Another voice penetrates the water logged feeling in my ears, “Someone get her out of here!”
I try to swim my way back to the top but waves seem to keep crashing and pushing me back down. Waves of darkness. I feel myself start to panic. What the hell is happening? I can’t move. I can’t speak. I try desperately to grab ahold of something, anything, that will make me feel tethered to being awake. I feel myself being lifted by someone and I grab a shirt sleeve.
“Sarge. I’m right here. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
“Camden?” I don’t think the words actually come out though. Something is terribly wrong but I don’t know what.
Blackness reigns momentarily and when the light seeps back in I’m in the back of a patrol car. The plastic seats smell of old vomit and sweat.
Everything is coming to me in flashes. I try to focus harder. I try to open my eyes and only one cooperates. Through blurry vision I can see the face of a man holding me. A police officer, screaming into the front seat at the driver. He’s yelling for him to drive faster. The officer in the back is cradling my head and pushing something against it. I want him to stop because it hurts. My head is splitting. I want to shove his hand away but for some reason my hands won’t respond to the commands I’m giving them.
We are driving fast. Too fast. Like a rocket. Sirens wail loudly. The police radio is crackling but I can’t make out what’s being said. The officer holding me is looking down at my face now. Why can’t I see him clearly? His face is still blurry but I can make out that he looks scared. I’m pretty certain nothing is coming out of my mouth. If I am making any sound, it is lost in the strange roaring that seems to envelop me.
The officer is looking at me again, “Oh God, Sarge! Sarge! Can you hear me? Hang on, we’re almost there.”
Blackness.
Chapter Seventy-Four
I’m awake. At least I think I am. Everything is still dark. Instinctively my hand fumbles towards my face and I feel my right eye. No wonder I can’t see anything. It’s swollen shut. I force myself to open my left eye. Ok, that’s better. I’m not blind after all.
I turn my head slowly and a wave of nausea threatens to make me vomit. I shut my working eye quickly, willing the room to stop spinning. I try to breath. It hurts to breath. Slowly. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. My mouth is parched but the controlled breathing helps the nausea to fade.
I take a look around more cautiously this time. I’m in a hospital room. There are flowers covering every surface. Balloons stand at attention in the corner alongside a few that have apparently lost their will to survive. The room is empty of any other occupants.
The door is partially open and I can hear a police radio squawking in the hallway. There’s a protective detail on the door.
I am shivering. They never give you enough damn blankets in the hospital. I gingerly try to move my toes and flex my leg muscles. Relief washes over me as I realize that I can move my limbs once again. My body feels like I’ve been blown up but nothing appears to be broken, except maybe my orbital socket. I’m pretty certain I cracked a couple ribs. Feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest.
Voices in the hallway are getting closer. The brass is here. The voices stop at the door and I can hear a muffled exchange between the officer stationed outside and whoever is deigning me with their presence. The door opens and Lieutenant Carson and Captain Bingham enter my room.
“You’re awake.” Carson’s ability to state the obvious is on full display. No wonder he made lieutenant. The guy was brilliant. That was sarcasm in the event you can’t tell. At least my disdain is still intact. That had to say something about the level of my mental faculties if I could still loathe someone within two seconds of him entering a room.
“Am I? How can you tell?” I mumble. My voice is husky as if I haven’t drank any water in a week. I’m suddenly extremely thirsty.
Carson and Bingham both laugh like I had just told the funniest joke they had ever heard. “Well she’s got her sense of humor back,” Bingham comments a little too boisterously.
I don’t even try to smile at either of them. I hope my swollen lips make them think I don’t smile because it hurts. Really? I don’t smile because I think they are worthless show pieces.
Carson smiles his fake toothy grin once more. “Sergeant Shaw, we are glad to see you are still with us. We know that Internal Affairs is waiting to speak with you but before they do, we both wanted to come by and make sure you were up to it.” Carson looks sideways at Bingham before continuing with his measured speech. “We want you to know you have our full support and we will do everything within our power to make sure whoever is responsible for…” he waved his hand over me like a preacher or shaman, “…this, is caught. We have every officer available working your case.”
I don’t respond in any fashion. I want to know what these two are up to. It’s a hard and fast rule that no one questions an officer until IA has had their go at them but command staff are notorious for skirting the rules. The rules don’t apply to them. They just do whatever they want and usually they get away with it. I am not going to give them an inch.
Bingham clears his throat, “So. Sergeant Shaw. What happened out there?”
My tongue feels like sandpaper but I squeak out, “I was hoping you could tell me. Your guess is as good as mine, Captain. How long have I been out?” I struggle to sit up but fall back uselessly against the wimpy hospital pillows holding me somewhat at an incline. Shit, my ribs hurt like hell!
Bingham narrows his eyes at me. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”
“What? Two days?” A jolt of alarm gets my adrenaline pumping.
Carson registers my alarm but seems to be angered by it. “What were you doing in that house, Sergeant?”
“What house?”
“The one we found you in. How did you get there?”
“Lieutenant, I don’t know about any house.”
“Who is Johnson?” he continues.
“Huh? You’re not making any sense. I don’t know anyone named Johnson. Is he a suspect in whatever happened to me?”
“Where’s the phone?” demands Carson, taking a step towards me. He doesn’t look caring any longer. Just angry.
“My phone? It should have been in my patrol car. Why do you need my phone?”
Again, they both look at each other. The look that passes between them betrays their intentions and tells me they are hiding something.
More voices come from down the hallway and a doctor in a lab coat walks in. He seems kind and his voice is soothing. I think I am in love with him when he says, “Gentlemen, please excuse us, I need to speak with my patient. You are free to wait in the hall if you wish.”
Bingham and Carson’s demeanor revert back to the glad-handing politician types they are. “Take good care of her doc. She’s one of our good ones.” To me, Carson says with another fake smile, “We can talk more when you feel better.”
“Wait.” I stop them. I want to make sure this is said in front of the doctor. “Can anyone tell me what happened?”
“You don’t remember?” The doctor’s concern etches his kind face. “What’s the last thing you remember?” He’s waving a light in my eyes and its making my headache worse.
“I remember breaking line-up, getting into my car and driving. And then it’s all black. I woke up here in the hospital.” I look at Bingham and Carson, “You say it’s been two days? Was I in a car accident?”
“No,” said Carson. “There’s been no accident and while it’s true that you have been in the hospital for two days, Sergeant Shaw, you’ve been missing for three.”
Chapter Seventy-Five
Day One
“Four Lincoln Four, I’m in foot pursuit!” The rookie yells into the radio like a sixth grade girl.
I pull up to the front of the house, my tires screeching, just in time to see 4L4 racing down the side of a house, apparently in full pursuit of someone. These kids are so dumb!!
<
br /> Officer Jason Camden runs up next to my car. “Which way Sarge?”
“He went that way. Go get him before he does something stupid.”
Camden laughs but runs after the rookie while broadcasting, “Four Lincoln Six, I’m coming down the south side of the house. Watch your cross fire.”
I stay out front but take up a position to the north side of the yard. I move up to the fence line. It’s dark and I can’t see through the fence but I can hear rustling on the other side.
“4L4, I lost him in the yard. Route me a K9, an airship and two more covers.”
I stay silent, letting them do their work but slowly making my way back to the corner of the house. I can keep eyes on from here.
As I watch, a single foot appears at the top of the fence. The foot is quickly followed by the full body of a young Hispanic male who is breathing like a freight train. He can’t see me and he turns to take off at a dead run. He only makes it three steps before I swing my Maglight full force and stopped him with a crack to his skull.
I know, I know, I can hear you gasping and screaming “police brutality” in your head but really, a flashlight to the dome won’t kill a guy.
Let’s be real for a second. I’m not about to start wrestling around with some suspect, with no cover in sight. I’ve made those mistakes before. Before you know it, your toe to toe with someone bigger, stronger, and in my case younger. You can’t get on the radio and he’s grabbing for your gun and I’m telling you, I’m too old for that shit. Forty isn’t old to the general public but in cop years, its equal to being eighty. So instead I work smarter not harder. This guy goes down with a thud and I have him cuffed and rolled up in less than five seconds.
I key my shoulder mic, “Cancel the other units. We are code four with one in custody. 2L4 and 2L6, I’ve got him out front.”
Both Camden and 2L4, the teams newest rookie, Officer Lopez, exit the backyard through the side gate. They join me on the grass and Camden laughs, “You still got it, Sarge.” Lopez just stands there staring at my newest friend on the ground.
“Camden put him in the car will you while Lopez and I have a little talk. Lopez…”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“What the hell did you think you were doing?”
“Chasing the bad guy?”
“Why?”
“He had a warrant.”
“So?”
“I didn’t want him to get away?”
“And you thought chasing him by yourself into a dark backyard, where you don’t know what’s waiting for you, was a smart way to catch him? What if he had a gun and was just waiting for you to come around some dark corner? What if he got the drop on you?”
Lopez looks down at his shoes a little sheepishly. “Sorry, Sarge. I guess I was a little too gung ho.”
“You’re new. You’re green. There’s nothing wrong with that. I love that you go full force. I’d rather have to hold you back than kick you in the ass to get you to do something. That being said, I don’t want to have to be the one who calls your parents, your girlfriend, your boyfriend, whomever, and tells them their loved one got shot in the head because he was stupid enough to jump straight into the dark unknown without cover. There’s nothing wrong with taking cover. That’s what it’s there for. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am. I understand. Won’t happen again.”
“Ok, take your prize and get him to the hospital for booking clearance. I’ll write up the use of force.”
“Got it. Thanks, Sarge.”
The rookie put his prisoner in the car and let dispatch know he was on his way to the hospital with his suspect.
Anytime we use force on a suspect we have to take them to the hospital to get cleared for booking. This is to ensure the guy I pelted didn’t have any brain bleeds or anything. Don’t want him dying in my jail because I didn’t get him medical attention.
I get into the driver seat of my sergeants car and roll down the driver window. Camden pulls his car alongside mine and rolls his down as well.
“Sarge, why do always have to hit people?”
“Same reason you are always shooting people.”
“They deserve it?”
“That’s not very politically correct of you.”
“I’m not a p.c. kinda guy.”
“No shit. So what’s new? How’s swing shift treating you?”
“Good. O’Connell is a good guy to work for. You know how he is. By the books but always fair.”
“Yeah, I came up under him. He was my sergeant when I was a rookie.”
“I had no idea he was so old,” Camden quipped.
“I shine my spotlight in his eyes. “Asshole. How’s the new kid that trained with Dekker? She any good?”
“Lizzie? Yeah she’s pretty decent.”
“Lizzie?” I smirk at him and give him one raised eyebrow.
“It’s not like that. She’s a good kid and I just like to make friends. Everyone can use a friend in this place. You know that.”
“Yes, I do. You think about testing for sergeant yet?”
“Hell no! I’ve watched everything you go through with these rookies and troublemakers like me. I don’t want that kind of responsibility.”
I laugh. Camden is working overtime on my team like he always does on nights like tonight but he hasn’t ever made me write any paper that wasn’t earned.
“You’re the easy one! You want a challenge? Try supervising some of the old farts on this team. They all are so salty and hate to get their hands dirty.”
“That’s why I work overtime on your team, Sarge, to help you out.”
I have to laugh, “And the money aint bad either, is it?”
My phone pings alerting me that a text had come through.
He’s on the move.
Camden is staring at me, “Everything ok, Sarge? You look a little pale all the sudden.”
“Mind your own business, Camden, and stay out of trouble will ya? And keep an eye on Lopez, he could use a friend too, just like Lizzie.” I waggle my eyebrows at Camden and as I drive away I can hear him laughing.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Once I get away from Camden I drive two blocks, make a right out of sight and pull over to the curb under a streetlight. I text back.
Copy. Does anyone have on eyes on him?
Jdawg is looking out
I’m on my way.
Before I go anywhere I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. I’m angry. Actually angry doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling. Furious? Enraged?
I get out of my car and open the trunk. I check my duty bag for the camera and binoculars I keep on hand. I get back in the driver seat and reach over to my second, smaller, gear bag buckled into the passenger seat. I pull out two extra mags for my Glock 22 and make sure they are fully loaded. I shove them into my duty belt even though I already have four fully loaded magazines there.
I check my ankle holster for my back up gun. It’s tight and holding my Smith and Wesson revolver. I don’t think I’ll need it but if shit goes sideways at least I won’t be caught unprepared. This is really just a scouting mission. Follow up on some intel I got. Experience reigns though and I am making certain that I have all the tools I need, just in case.
I put my car in drive and silently make my way to the prearranged meeting point. I pull into the darkened parking lot of the Roland City Parks and Recreation building and get out of my car. From the shadows, Shorty whistles the signal. I flash my spotlight light twice and he saunters over.
“Hey, Sarge.”
“Shorty.”
“He’s there.”
I shake my head a little in disbelief. “Shorty, you’re being straight with me right? This aint no bullshit?”
“Sarge, I swear it was him. This is good info. You told me I could work off my case with this info but at this point, I didn’t give a shit if you charge me or not. You did me solid more times than I can count and this guy has got to go.”
&nb
sp; “Why? Because he’s making it hard on you to do business?”
“Hell no. Cuz a crooked cop can hurt you. And I’m kinda partial to your pretty face.”
“Save it, Shorty.”
“You know he’s always bustin’ my ass and I’m telling you, he’s been working hard to get his. “
“Ok. I’m going to check it out.”
Shorty hops toward my patrol car, “Let’s go!”
“Hell no! You’re not coming!”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m just going to be nosing around and you’re going to get in the way. Where will you be tonight?”
“At the spot.”
“Your house?”
“It’s only 11:30. Why would I be at the house? Don’t you know a player’s gotta play?”
“Shorty. Be at your house. I’ll come by after.”
“Don’t you dare. My granny will have a heart attack if the police show up at her doorstep. Besides, you know my boys aren’t as partial to you as I am.”
“Well if your intel is right and I do this, your boys better be in love with me! I want heartfelt declarations of peace and love from each and every one of them.”
Shorty laughed, “You’re ok, Sarge, you know that?”
“Yeah, Yeah, I’m a regular Mother Theresa. Get the fuck out of here.”
“Bossy!”
“Go home, Shorty!”
I wait until Shorty disappears back into the shadows before I shake a cigarette out of the pack in my pocket. Fucking things will kill me but I need to steady my nerves and drinking on duty is frowned upon. I finish it quickly and get back into my car. I drive slowly toward the wharf.
The city of Roland is situated on the coast and tonight the fog has started to roll in early. I have always loved it. The cool air and the dense fog making everything at night look different. Maybe I just love being out at night. There is just something about being out and about while everyone else in the city is in bed, oblivious to what creeps in the dark.
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