Command: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Amélie S. Duncan

Got it.

  I returned to my car and used my GPS to find Pam’s home and drove there. I parked at the end of the corner. The Birks’s lawn was a sea of blossoms. Mine wouldn’t make a difference. Still, I pulled my hoodie over my face and quickly ran over. I left the yellow roses and hurried back to my car—just in case someone saw or asked why I came.

  Afterward, I drove on without direction. I so wanted to leave Sunnyville, but I had nowhere to go. My lids started to feel heavy and my body weak. I remembered a park nearby and drove over to the lot.

  Once I parked, I reclined my seat back and put on my sunglasses. No ghost came or memories or vision. Even though LA had had many great moments, I’d made a few friends, went out for dinners, dancing, there had also been moments like these. Silent. Solitary. Just like they had in LA, this moment reminded me that I was no longer one of two. Being at my parents’ home had amplified that yawning chasm of loneliness even more than I’d expected. But I was so fucking tired of fighting. Everything stopped running inside me, as if a battery had run out of power.

  I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

  Nathan

  I cursed under my breath, staring at the computer screen on my desk. Over the week, I’d checked the police department database for Shana’s amended statement, hoping to see she’d listened to me. I only found a negative drug test. What the hell was she waiting for?

  The Shana I knew wouldn’t let anyone get away with fucking her over. Well, I’m not going to let anyone fuck her over.

  I sent a message to Detective Ambrose about what I heard in the car. It wasn’t admissible evidence in court, but it would at least help point him and Stetson to other suspects to question. After I finished my report, I sent Shana a text to the number she had listed on her application for community service.

  Nathan: You had a week. I’m adding a report with all the names you shared with me in the car. I suggest you update your statement.

  I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. This could, of course, make Shana trust me less. But I’d be damned to sit on my hands. Fuck it. She could stay mad at me if she needed to.

  While I still had the computer up, I typed in Bridget Birks’s criminal history. She’d had several arrests for possession, theft, and prostitution through online ads. She’d been through court-ordered rehab for addiction at Serenity Acres twice before she was even twenty, just like my deceased birth mom had been. Which was why I should have stayed out of the case—too personal. But knowing myself, the chance to let go ended the second Shana became involved. She needed me and deserved the benefit of doubt. My gut said someone set her up. What I couldn’t work out was why, given she had only been in Sunnyville a few hours when the crime occurred.

  I shut down my computer and rose from my desk with the intent to stop by to see Detectives Ambrose and Stetson in homicide. My duty today was to patrol Pebble Grove with Sam Rich, who was four months into his probationary period.

  They weren’t there, and Bridget’s case hadn’t made the whiteboard. However, the prosecution hadn’t determined cause of death yet. I caught up to Ambrose, making a cup of coffee in the breakroom.

  “Anything new on the Birks’s case?” I asked.

  He poured out a cup from the coffee maker and stirred in cream and sugar. “The cameras in the club didn’t work, but the office next door has a video, which they won’t release without a subpoena. We detained a couple of the usual suspects at the scene. Hopefully, something will turn up.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Where’s Stetson?”

  “He’s bringing the car around. We’re about to leave to process Bridget’s bedroom.”

  Fuck, I want to go. I took out my phone and called my dad. “Hello.”

  “Hey, son. You on your way out with Rich?” he asked.

  “Not yet . . . I wondered if Rich and I could observe Stetson’s processing Bridget’s bedroom?”

  “That’s not a good idea or your job. A few more years under your belt, maybe you can try to become a detective. But you’re a natural trainer and leader. I can see you as a captain one day like me.”

  The joy in my dad’s voice hit me square in the chest. He’d always been proud of me, and I hoped I’d never do anything to change that.

  I sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

  “Wait, son. I know you’re worried about Shana. But if you get involved, you can make things worse for her. They can say you tried to protect her and planted something. We need this case to go by the book.”

  I understood but hated having my hands tied. “I’ve got to go.” I hung up and pushed my hair back.

  “Don’t look so glum,” Ambrose said. “I’ll call you with the details as soon as Stetson and I return.”

  I nodded. “Thanks, man.”

  My phone went off with a text message from Shana.

  Shana: I have to track down my public defender to help change my statement when I have no proof or anything against anyone. Thanks for nothing and stay out of my shit, Officer Donleavy.

  I smiled at the phone and tucked it in my pocket. Not a chance, Callahan.

  “You’re coming in the house with me, right?” Rookie Rich asked, bringing me back to the task at hand. He was a recent college graduate with a degree he couldn’t find a job for. I understood the job security in policing, but I questioned his commitment. Who was I to throw stones?

  “You lead. I’m your backup,” I told Rich when we parked in Pebble Grove. There was no handholding in police work. The job entailed getting your ass out there and doing it.

  Rich climbed out of the car, and I fell in next to him up the cement path to the front door of the pastel-colored stucco house. Even before we reached the porch, a man was visible from the large open window in front. He paced back and forth, picking at something near his ear.

  Once we were on the porch, Rich pressed the doorbell. We waited. Two minutes passed, and we could still see the man pacing.

  Rich pressed the buzzer again, and we both looked in the window. The man stopped pacing and stood still.

  “Hey,” Rich yelled and batted his hand next to the window. “Answer the door. We see you.”

  The man let out a loud squeak and ran out of the room. Fuck.

  I moved in front of Rich and glared down at him. “What the hell, man? This is not some reality television show.”

  “He saw us and just stood there,” Rich complained, gesturing toward the window. “What the hell was I supposed to do? Let’s just go in, we have the authority.”

  “Why are we here?” I asked him.

  He checked his notepad. “Wellness check. Thomas Stevens. Male. Thirty. Missed his Day Center pickup and his doctor’s appointment . . . autism.”

  “The report also said this is his first placement alone, and he’s having trouble adjusting to change. Wellness isn’t a search warrant. Our job is to make sure Thomas is okay, which means you don’t roll up on a man with autism and yell through his window, scaring the hell out of him. We don’t go in and further escalate the situation either.”

  Rich rolled his neck. “Fine. What do we do now?”

  “Now, you call his social worker and agree to meet up and do a house call together, so Thomas will know you if you’re assigned to do a wellness check on him again.”

  He huffed. “We don’t need to do all that stuff. That’s the social worker’s job. This is a waste of resources calling us to be here in the first place.”

  I took a few seconds to cool my anger. Rich was right, a social worker should have been on this visit with us. But they were understaffed. What I had a problem with was Rich’s attitude. Rich, like most people unfamiliar with policework, had a predisposition. He thought working patrol meant chasing and busting asses, like television and movies. He needs a reality check.

  “You do what you’re assigned to do. The work you’re told to do is your work. You don’t want to do your job, quit.”

  He twisted his mouth, “I’m not quitting; I just think this is bullshit.”

  “So? That’
s the job. You protect and serve. You work in the community. That’s what most police work is about. It’s saving lives by knowing each other. If you don’t know someone or something, ask for help. We can always direct you to someone who does or a report to help you out.”

  “I get it,” he said through his gritted teeth. Bullshit. If I hadn’t been here, Rich would’ve marked this down as nothing, or caused Thomas mental distress or worse. But I had to let it go. No newbie handled everything right in the beginning. I didn’t do everything right. In our job, we had to be ready to give someone plenty of chances.

  “Hey, let me introduce you to someone I know.” I motioned for him to follow me over a street to Ma Madison’s house. I knocked on her screen door, and she waved me inside.

  “Officer Donleavy, come on in. You’re both welcome. I’m Ma. You are?”

  “Officer Sam Rich,” Rich said and took her outstretched hand.

  We took a seat at her kitchen table and took the lemonade she offered us. “How is our quarterback?”

  “Peter’s doing well,” she said, beaming with pride. “He’s out practicing with the mentor you set up.”

  “Coach Brown?” I asked, and she nodded.

  “He told him he might go to state with a full sports scholarship.”

  “He’ll get more offers. Still maintaining that three-point-five GPA?” I asked.

  She laughed. “I was just about to show you Peter’s reports. Yeah. Thanks to the tutor for the SAT and ACT program Officer Malone connected us with.”

  Everyone in the precinct pitched in to help our local schools whenever we could. We even created a charity for sports uniform sponsorship. A low-wage salary couldn’t keep up with growing kids and the cost of sports gear.

  I asked her about the people in the neighborhood, so she caught me up on their neighborhood watch progress on reporting domestic violence, theft, or drugs. When we were done, I rose with Rich.

  “Thank you. I need to leave to coach at the group home. Walk me out, please, Ma?”

  She smiled and followed behind us.

  I looked at her Ford Fiesta. “How is it holding up?”

  She shrugged. “The car needs a new muffler, so I’m saving up for it. I’m taking the bus to work.” Her job at the factory was across the bridge. That meant three buses for her, and a two-mile walk back alone at night. Not only was that dangerous, but Peter would also have less time with his mom.

  I took out my phone and called Max’s Auto and asked if they could get someone to help with the muffler. They had a payment plan for families in need.

  When we left, Rich stopped me by the car. “So, part of your policing is hanging out in houses? What if she had a gun or something?”

  “Ma Madison is the neighborhood mother. She knows everyone and has helped us out in many cases. She’ll find a way for you to talk to the unapproachable, as everyone respects her. You earn her respect, and she’ll have your back.”

  “Isn’t this place pretty far from her son’s school and her job?” Rich asked, and I liked him a bit for that.

  “This place is all she can afford right now. Her husband ruined her credit and is in jail for domestic violence.”

  Then he said, “So to you, police work is fixing people’s lives?”

  “No. Police work is helping keep the community safe. Some crimes happen because people don’t have what they need.”

  “So, we have to clean up what they won’t fix for themselves.”

  “No. We enforce the law and protect and serve the community. That means we cultivate relationships with everyone. If you are looking for some other form of policing and prefer to go somewhere else, let Chief Ramos know, and he’ll help you out.”

  Rich went quiet, and that was good with me. I’d had enough of him too.

  We drove back to the precinct and separated when we arrived. My shift was done, and I went into the locker room next to our gym to change clothes.

  “Hey, Nathan.” I looked up and found Ambrose. He was still in his uniform.

  “How did it go?” I asked.

  He shook his head, and I followed him out into the hallway. “You know we don’t have the toxicology report yet, but we found stacks of straws and burnt spoons at the bottom of a bedside table. I suspect she had a drug kit too, but Pam wanted to end the search. I had to insist.”

  My brows rose. “Why?”

  “She thought we were trying to get Shana Callahan off,” he said.

  I blew out my breath. Dad had been right.

  “Anyway, after calming Pam down, we made it into Bridget’s closet. We found what appeared to be a drug kit, syringes, and strips of rubber ties. Pam said it was old, but we sent it out for a test. She also wanted to stop the autopsy, saying we were trying to make Bridget the bad person.”

  “She can’t do that with a criminal case pending.” I felt sorry for Pam, but this was a common occurrence in death. She wanted to rewrite history to make her child into something she wished she would have been.

  I thanked him again and grabbed my duffle bag to take to my car. Before I pulled off, I saw something sparkling catch the sunlight. Lifting the cup holder, I uncovered a sapphire ring that had double hearts. Jackson bought it for Shana when they graduated. Fate or not, it gave me another reason to contact her. But I had a better idea—something I planned to follow up with later with a friend at community service. I’d swing by her place after practice to drop off her ring. And to see her again.

  After changing, I drove across town to the park where we practiced. I spotted Shana’s Chevelle. I’d seen her car parked a few places over the week, but why was she near the old lot by the trash bins?

  I pulled up next to her and peered in. Fuck me.

  Shana was sleeping in her car.

  Shana

  Thump.

  What the—

  Oh God. Nathan.

  Why the hell was he here?

  “What?”

  I wound down the window fully, and he ducked his head inside. Inches away from him, I forgot about how I shouldn’t like him. I mean damn, give me strength. Piercing wide-set blue eyes, high cheekbones, scruff on his square jawline. His cologne was a woodsy floral scent that smelled heavenly. He had all that going for him and an insanely hot body. And he was watching me lust after him.

  I tried to cover it up with a cough. “You again?”

  His full lips curved into a broad smile, revealing his white, even teeth. Too late.

  “Yep, me again. Bed no good at the mansion?”

  I ran my tongue slowly over my lips and watched his gaze follow. “Something like that.”

  Ha. Nathan was checking me out too. But I was still angry with him.

  “My first drug test is clear, and community service starts in a few days. You forced me to drag everyone I knew in the club into my statement. The same group that saw me smoking pot and taking Molly with them. Thanks for that,” I told him, my tone harsh.

  “The drugs are in your statement and toxicology report already. If the rest of the people around you didn’t do anything, they have nothing to worry about.”

  I scoffed and adjusted my seat, placing my hands on the steering wheel. “Yeah, like I had nothing to worry about when I was arrested. A catnap in the car isn’t illegal if I leave now. Right?”

  “Something like that.” He repeated my words. “Good to hear you’re on your way. But I didn’t come over to wake you up from your evening nap or police you.”

  I laughed. “Keep coming around, and people will start to think you’ve got a thing for me.”

  “Could be. Things like that happen.” He drummed his fingers on the door of my car. “Only one way to find out, though. Come with me.”

  “Where?” I asked, not moving.

  “Up and out, Callahan,” he said in an authoritative tone.

  His familiar command. Similar to the way he used to push, he had an incorruptible authority that both annoyed and turned me on. I wanted to follow him. But I’d only just left an orientat
ion at the executive assistant job Dad had set up. The naps had come on from a drop in energy. I hadn’t realized how much of a boost I received from my legal drug cocktail. But I couldn’t risk using anything—jail scared me straight.

  Even though my parents were rarely home, I didn’t want them to find me sleeping during the day. Spending time by myself there didn’t feel right. So, I drove. Exhaustion got to me, and the sun felt good, and I took a nap, though not in the same spot every day.

  Of course, Nathan didn’t ask why, just expected I do as he said. Feeling like a silly schoolgirl, I fell in next to him, more out of curiosity about what he was up to.

  We walked to the other side of the park and stopped at the baseball diamond, where a group of seven girls sat on the aluminum bleachers. The other two girls were on the field. One pitched at the mound, and the other crouched in the catcher’s box with her mitt ready.

  As we crossed the grass, a few of them called out, “Coach D.”

  He greeted them and a fellow coach of his, then handed me a bag of extra gloves while he took the bats.

  I shook my head and waved my arms in protest. “No freaking way.”

  He gave me one of his irresistible smiles. “Yes way, Shadow. Come play baseball with me. I need you to show my pitcher that killer arm of yours.”

  I shook my head. “That was years ago, and I’m not up for it.”

  But Nathan kept on smiling and put his hand on my back, and I moved forward. My body was ready to follow that man to the ends of the earth.

  The girls eyed me with a mixture of curiosity and distrust.

  “This is Shana, and she’ll be our pitcher today.”

  “She looks like she’s ready for high tea, not baseball,” said the girl with spikey, short black hair and T-shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

  “Watch what you say, Amy, or you’re not playing at all,” Nathan warned her. But she was right. I had on sneakers for driving. But I was dressed in a polka-dot sleeveless blouse, and pleated yellow trousers.

  Amy stretched her arm across her body. “We only have a short time to play, and I need to practice more before our game, not show off for the hot girlfriend.”