Roland P D Omnibus

by Ruth DuCharme

  Marc and I rode home in silence and when we reached my driveway we hopped off our bikes. I dropped mine on the lawn where it had been before our escapade and started towards my moms daisies and my bedroom window.

  “Hey man, wait.”

  I looked at Marc over my shoulder.

  “Man, about what I said about my dad…”

  “No worries. I won’t say anything.”

  Marcs face lit up with relief, “Thanks bro.”

  I watched Marc ride off toward his house until he was out of sight. I climbed back into my room, and decided to leave the window opened for the first night in my life.

  I climbed into bed and lay there staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t stop smiling! I had done it! I had conquered my fear. I don’t know what I would ever do without Marc if he ever decided to become Tony for real and leave this town. If Marc hadn’t pushed me, I might never have gotten over my fear. And JT, that guy was never going to intimidate me again.

  I turned on my side and within seconds I was asleep. I slept like Tony; like someone drugged. When I woke up in the morning I wasn’t on a ship but my world was definitely about to change.

  Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Two

  Roland, California

  Present day

  “Four-Lincoln-Six…”, the dispatchers voice cut through the silence in my patrol car. I picked up the mic to answer her, “4l6 go ahead.”

  “4l6 respond to a suspicious circumstance, audible alarm at 213 south 4th street. Glass breakage on the front window.”

  4L6, copy. En route. Code four.” I’m not too far away from the address the dispatcher has given me and an alarm call at the local footlocker isn’t exactly emergency business. This call is one I go to almost on a nightly basis.

  I’m almost off duty and hopefully this will be the last uneventful call of an uneventful night shift. Being a cop is full of excitement but some nights are boring. Tonight, nothing exciting happened and with only an hour more to go I’m content to drag this call to OD time. I’m ready for the weekend.

  Typically, a call of front window breakage just means some homeless person ran into the door with their cart or some kids were walking through the storefronts trying doors. Easy peasy. I took my time getting there.

  I pulled into the shopping center and killed my headlights. On the off chance someone had decided to break into the store I didn’t want him or her to see me coming. I found a spot to park at the back of the store and got out of my car. I left the car running and the radio turned down so the would-be-burglar wouldn’t hear it and get spooked. I tucked my baton in my keeper and donned my leather gloves. I grabbed my maglight from my sap pocket and held it in my off hand with the large beam pointed at the building.

  I walked to the front of the store and examined the front door. The bottom half of the glass was shattered. Ok, so maybe someone WAS inside. “4l6 I’ve got an open door. Route me a cover unit and a k9 if ones available.”

  “Dispatch copies.”

  Dispatch assigned two more units and a k9 and I stand by waiting for my cover. I’m not rookie. Going in to check for burglars on my own isn’t something I’m stupid enough to do.

  I hear movement inside and key my mic again. I whisper into my mic, “I’ve got movement. Step up my cover.” Not even 60 seconds later my two partners have pulled up out front and join me at the front door. I direct one officer to take the rear of the building and when the k9 shows up we let him take the lead.

  The k9 gives the standard warning, yelling loud enough for any passerby’s to hear that the k9 will be used to search the building and anyone inside better give up now. When we receive no response the handler goes in first and I’m right behind him. A third officer follows behind me and covers us both.

  The store is your standard shoe store, small and u-shaped with the desk in the front. As we make our way behind the dog, my gun is out and at the ready. My adrenaline hasn’t even jumped a tick. I’m used to this.

  After ten years on the force, I’ve been on enough of these calls to be used to it but not complacent. I just know how to control it now. Breathe in and out. If you control the breath you can control the adrenaline. Focus on what’s in front of you. Expect someone to jump out at any moment and know what you will do when it happens. By doing this over and over for years, it has become second nature and I’m not rattled in the slightest.

  We clear the front of the store but find no one. I key my mic and let the officer out back know to keep an eye on the door as we are searching the stock room. That back door will be the only way out if someone tries to escape.

  The back room is even smaller than the front of the store and it only takes us moments to search. The dog hasn’t alerted yet but he keeps doing his job, ignoring all the yummy shoes to chew on. When the k9 handler gives the all clear I key my mic and let the rear cover officer know he can let it go. We are all good. No bad guys found.

  I find the switch to the stores interior lights and flip them on. I tell my comrades I’m “code four” and they can go back to their own beats. I ask dispatch to call the storeowner and let them know I will be out front waiting for him to come secure his store.

  I bring my patrol car to the front of the store and wait. Its only about fifteen minutes until the owner arrives and in that time I am able to knock out two reports I’ve been putting off writing.

  The owner arrived and he and I do make a quick walk through of the store before he tells me it looked as if nothing had been stolen. He the storeowner tells me there is plywood, a hammer and nails in the back and I wait by the cash register while he goes to retrieve them.

  I hear a crash from the back and this time my adrenaline hiccups.

  I yell out, “Are you ok, sir?”

  No response.

  I keep calling out as I make my way to the rear of the store. Maybe he’s fallen and knocked himself unconscious? I get to the stock room and walk into the office.

  Holy shit!

  Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Three

  A man holding a lead pipe is standing over the body of the storeowner. My adrenaline is finally doing what it’s supposed to and I forget to breath. I register the open roof hatch and the open safe. This asshole must’ve been hiding on the roof the whole time!

  I draw my gun and order him to drop the pipe. He looks like a scared tweaker. He takes a step towards me and I keep yelling, “drop the pipe!” Pipe man pauses. Everything starts to happen in slow motion.

  I key my mic and ask for my cover to return and make sure I add, “I’ve got one at gunpoint.” Even from the storeroom I can hear the sirens starting up across the city, the sound bouncing off the fog. The adrenaline is rushing and my focus is on the man in front of me. I know my partners are coming but right now it’s just him and me.

  Pipe man drops the pipe.

  “That’s good. Now put your hands on your head and interlace your fingers.”

  Pipe man does as he’s ordered.

  “Drop to your knees.”

  Pipe man complies, slowly. I watch as pipe man reaches the floor but as he does he reaches one hand towards the contents of the open floor safe.

  A gun.

  “Don’t do it!” I yell.

  Slow motion. The pipe man’s gun comes up and we fire at the same time. The gunfire rocks the small room and the ringing in my ears never seems to stop.

  I’ve pulled the trigger three times in the course of my career and each time it’s the same thing. Time stops. Every sound is muffled. My eyes see only what’s in front of me.

  I shake my head to gather my bearings. Tunnel vision will get you killed.

  Pipe man doesn’t move from his spot on the floor. A pool of bright red blood begins to outline his still frame.

  I mentally assess my own health. I’m not hit but he is. He’s gone down with three holes in his torso.

  Dammit. Not again

  Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Four

  “Camden, why the hell do you keep shooting people?”


  “Captain, in my defense he was shooting at me first.”

  “Yeah, I get that but this is your third officer involved shooting in six months and now all eyes are on you. Do you know I have the press hounding me about you? I can see the headlines now: Renegade cop does it again!”

  “Sorry Cap, I’ll try to keep it in my pants next time someone tries to kill me.”

  “Oh you’ll do more than that! You’re gonna leave it on my desk!”

  “What?”

  “You’re on administrative leave starting now, with pay so don’t get your panties in a ruffle.”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as it takes for the DA to conclude its investigation.”

  I hear my voice take on a whiny tinge but I can’t help myself, “You know how these investigations go, Captain. They could take months.”

  “They take as long as they take.”

  “But I didn’t have to take time off the last couple times. Why this time?”

  “Listen Jason, you need a time out. Get out of the public eye and scrutiny. Let things cool down. Let them do their investigation and prove this asshole did what you say he did. I know it’s a clean shoot but kid, you need a break from us as much as the rest of us do from you.”

  I huffed like a twenty-eight year old toddler, “Those other two were clean shoots as well.”

  “I know they were. You were investigated and cleared but I think there’s another issue at play here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your first shooting; I think you know what I mean.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “You’re right. It’s not fair. What happened was horrible but I think you’re still trying to deal with it in your own way and that way isn’t working.”

  “So you think that my first shooting is tainting the way I do my job? The shrink cleared me.”

  The captain didn’t even blink. “Take a breath, son and listen to what I have to say. That first shooting was awful. It would be awful for any cop whether they had thirty years on or two. You had to take a man’s life in order to save a kid. You did the right thing but you don’t need me to tell you that.

  What you need me to tell you is that in that situation it was traumatizing. You want to tell me you don’t see that scene over and over in your mind when you go to sleep at night? You don’t see that kids scared eyes looking at you in your dreams? You internalized it weather you realize it or not and there is something inside of you that is finding ways to get in that situation again.”

  “This city is dangerous. I am proactive isn’t that what the job is about?”

  The captain rolled sat back wearily in his chair, “Yes but I need you to cool it off for a bit. You need a break. You are chasing hot calls, running head first to everything you can and shit is finding you fast. I could move you to another beat but that’s not going to change what’s inside you.”

  I could see I wasn’t getting anywhere but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. “What the hell am I supposed to do away from this place? It’s my life, Cap.”

  “That’s part of the problem. You need a life outside of this place, Jason.”

  “Doing what? Getting married? Having kids? Drinking and going to bars? Spending money I don’t have like everyone else? Become a gym rat? That’s not me. I need to be out here doing my job! This is my calling. This is what I’m paid to do. Being a Roland P.D. cop gives my live meaning.”

  “This department can’t be your ‘everything.’ What if something happened to you and you didn’t have this job anymore? What would you do? What do you think would happen to the department?”

  I laughed, “It would go to hell in a handbasket.”

  The captain clearly didn’t find me amusing, “No, it wouldn’t. This department would keep on functioning the same way it does now. You think this place gives two shits about you? They don’t! Officer Jason Camden is just a cog in the machine and they will keep on functioning without you. You are not indispensible or irreplaceable.”

  “Cold.”

  Seeing the dejected and angry look on my face he tried to soften the blow, “Look kid. You are a great cop. I’d love to have ten more just like you but the truth is you cannot make this place your home. You need friends and family outside of this place. Go meet a girl or better yet, go home and see your family.” The captains voice was softer now, “Go home, kid.”

  “I haven’t been home in 10 years, Captain.”

  “I know. It’s time. As your friend I’m asking you, go take care of business. See your folks. See your old friends. Milk a cow. Ride a horse. Rest, relax, drink beer and camp out.”

  “You think I’ll be on leave long enough to do all that?”

  Fed up with me, the captain slammed a drawer. “Dammit Jason. As your captain I am going to make damn sure you get at least a month off. You won’t take that time under your own steam so I’m going to do it for you. Now get the hell out of my office before I make it two!”

  I stormed out of the captains office and went to the locker room. I banged my locker door and punched it. That didn’t curb my anger and frustration so I punched it again. Why the hell was I so angry? He was just trying to help and everything he had said, well, I knew it was truth.

  I also knew why I didn’t want to go home. Too many memories there. Too much had happened. I hadn’t seen my folks in ages and I knew they missed me. I missed them too but when I thought about home memories of Marc enveloped all the others.

  Fourteen years had gone by and I had never gotten over his disappearance.

  The department had become my family and then I had made excuse after excuse not to go home. I worked holidays so my buddies with kids and wives could be home. I worked swingshift so I didn’t have a schedule conducive to dating. I worked as many dangerous assignments as I could and chased as many drug dealers and badasses as possible.

  The captain was right. I lived my life on the edge on purpose. But it had nothing to do with that first shooting. I’m not even sure how it happened but I knew there was an anger or need deep inside me that could only be assuaged by the adrenaline I got from this job.

  Now what would I do without it? Not be a cop anymore? That thought scared the shit out of me.

  I grabbed my gear and took a quick look around the locker room. I couldn’t imagine a world without this job.

  So, I did was I was told.

  I was going home.

  Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Five

  Two days after the captain threw me out of his office I was on an early morning flight to the middle of nowhere; a.k.a. Harmony, Montana.

  The non-stop flight out of Sacramento was virtually empty. There weren’t too many people going this way and I didn’t blame them. I found my seat near the back of the plane and as I settled in for the four-hour trip, I thought about what I was leaving behind s well as what I was hurtling towards.

  I had avoided coming home for ten years! So much had changed for me in that time. Once I graduated high school I couldn’t wait to get out of Harmony. I told myself that nothing exciting ever happened there, and if I stayed I would end up stuck and miserable with a handful of kids and mortgage I had to bust my ass to afford. California, with its promise of eternal sunshine, ocean breezes and bustling city streets had lured me into packing my bags, buying a train ticket, renting a crappy one room apartment and joining the police academy in the space of one week.

  In the first year of having made California my resident state, I had a job that made more money in a month than I knew I’d ever make in a year back home. I made interesting friends, surfed on the weekends and soaked up the multicultural atmosphere with every breath. The highs of my current life could never be duplicated back in Harmony and while I missed my folks, I would be glad when this trip came to an end and I could hurry back to the hustle and bustle.

  When my flight safely landed at the Oak County Airstrip, I made my way to the car rental desk. My pops had tried insisting on picking me up but a guy ne
eds a car to get around and I didn’t want him to be put out if I had to leave suddenly. The captain had told me I would be off duty for at least a month but I knew differently. The department always needed warm bodies and boots on the pavement so I gave him a week before he would be calling to tell me I was needed back.

  At the car rental desk I was given a choice of vehicles and maybe it was the fact that I was home or maybe it was just my country boy pride but I chose the largest truck they had. It was summer and the snow had long melted but a guy could always justify a four-wheel drive here. Besides, Montanan’s are notoriously unaccepting of Californians and I wanted to fit in not stand out. I would leave the convertible and sports cars to my home turf and be who I was supposed to be here, a cowboy. Maybe I could get through this visit with as little visibility after all.

  The drive from the airport to town should have taken about thirty minutes but I drove slowly and soaked up the scenery. The Rocky Mountains were just as high and majestic as they ever were and the heavy winter snowfall had left the countryside green and lush. There were a few snowdrifts left on the highest peaks and suddenly I was aching to take a drive up into the cold air and hike through the towering pine trees.

  Montana was beautiful but I loved living near the bay. Ocean breezes did battle with traffic smog, the noise was a constant and there were so many people you could never be lonely. In contrast, my home state was quiet, clean and you drive for hours and not run into another person if you didn’t want to. The sky was clear, the air was fresh and I rolled down my window to inhale deeply.

  I reached Harmony city limits and smiled at the sign indicating six thousand residents. The population hadn’t grown at all since I left. I drove down the tree lined main street and took it all in.

  I arrived at the center of town and stopped at the one stoplight blinking red. I sat for a moment and looked around at the families walking dogs and kids riding bikes with towels over their shoulders. No doubt they were off to the quarry to swim.