by Lori L. Lake
Dez saw Julie’s eyes widen with pleasure, and Dez shifted to look over her shoulder. She was engulfed in a big hug from behind and knew instantly from the smell of Timberline aftershave that it was Cowboy. Wrenching herself around, she fake-pummeled the huge man with a series of punches to the midsection. She said, “Charles.” Left punch. “Winslow.” Right jab. “Culpepper.” Left hook. “The Third.” She started a right roundhouse, but he caught her fist in his hand.
“Desiree Marie Reilly, The First, I could crush you in an instant.” A huge grin split his face.
“You just try it, mister,” she retorted. She felt a shot of adrenaline to see his happy face, and her spirits lifted even further when she spotted Crystal and Shayna heading her way. She jerked her fist from Cowboy’s warm hand and watched Crystal swagger toward them, dressed in a brown pantsuit and multi-colored blouse.
“Hey, chica,” Crystal said. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. You’re sitting with us, right?”
“For sure. I don’t know most of the rest of these clowns.” She cast a skeptical look around the banquet hall, frowning as she scanned the crowd. She turned her attention back to the group and extended a hand to Julie. “Hi there.” Julie returned the greeting warmly and then helped Jeremy get his chair pushed in.
Dez always thought Shayna looked like a plump and slightly cynical Oprah Winfrey. She stood about two inches taller than Crystal. Her dark hair was a mass of tight curls, and she usually wore some sort of huge dangly earrings. Tonight she sported a pair of shiny golden disks, nearly three inches in diameter. In a serious voice, Dez said, “Hmmm, pretty,” and reached over to touch one.
Shayna said, “Crystal, honey, your pal here is fingering the merchandise again.”
Cowboy hooted, and Dez’s face flushed as she attempted to defend herself. “I was checking to see if those teacup saucers were as heavy as they look.”
“Light as a feather, hon.” Shayna gave Dez a droll look. “So, is it a rubber chicken dinner or what?”
Dez shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m not eating it. Whatever it is, you can have mine.”
“Ooh girl—then you can finger my earrings any time!”
Crystal took hold of her partner’s forearm. “Quit flirting,” she said, her eyes shining with amusement. She looked over at Dez. “Can’t take her out anywhere anymore.”
Dez blushed some more as the group of them settled in at the table. Shayna had a way of keeping Dez totally off balance, and though it could be irritating at times, tonight she was happy for it. She took her seat again between the kids, with Julie on the other side of Jill, and Crystal, Shayna, and Cowboy rounding out the group of seven. The room had filled up, and Dez thought it was awfully warm. She slipped her jacket off and sensed someone over her right shoulder. Turning, she heard him clear his throat.
“Uh, hi Dez,” a tentative voice called out.
“Oster,” she said, surprised. He stood awkwardly behind her, wearing tan slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a tweed sport coat.
“Would you mind if I joined you?” Nervously, he gestured toward the empty seat between Jeremy and Cowboy.
Cowboy rose and gestured to the seat next to him. “Jump right in.” Towering over the table, he stuck his hand out for the shorter man to shake. “I’m Culpepper—better known as Cowboy. I didn’t get to ride with you in training. Good to meet you, Oster. Jeremy and I need some reinforcements what with all these pushy women, so we’re glad you’re here.” He looked around the table with a smirk on his handsome face as Julie, Shayna, and Crystal all protested loudly.
Oster let go of the big man’s hand. “Call me Mitch.”
Cowboy nodded as he folded himself back down into his seat.
Dez moved Jeremy’s chair right up next to her own and pulled the eighth chair out. “Here you go, Mitch. I thought most of you rookies wouldn’t attend tonight.”
“Why?” Mitch asked, his serious brown eyes looking at her quizzically.
“Oh, I don’t know. Savage and Mahoney were on duty tonight. Figured you would be, too.”
“Nope. Thursdays and Fridays are my nights off.”
She nodded, unable to say anything more, then felt a small hand tugging on the sleeve of her blouse. She leaned down so Jeremy could tell her about the rabbit he and his classmates were raising at school. Oster was on his own to present himself around, though he already knew Crystal. She heard Crystal making introductions, and then the brass was getting settled up at the head table. The Chief tapped the microphone and the noise in the room began trailing off. The evening program began with the Chief’s remarks. Dez whispered to Jeremy that it was time to listen, and the boy nodded, slipping his cool hand into her larger one and leaning against her side. And that’s the way she got through the evening: hanging on for dear life to a six-year-old.
Saturday night, a morose Dez got in the car, and Jaylynn could tell something was wrong. She tried to give Dez an opportunity to talk about it, but every conversation she started was met with noncommittal grumbles or curt answers. Jaylynn said, “How was the banquet last night?”
“Fine” was all Dez said. Jaylynn gave up and sat quietly watching the afternoon light fade away into early evening. They patrolled for another two hours, handling two citizen complaints before getting a more urgent call from dispatch.
“Shit,” Dez said.
“What?” Jaylynn wanted to kick herself for not paying close enough attention to the dispatcher. She hadn’t caught the details, though she’d heard the address.
Dez hit the lights, sped up, and took the next corner at high speed. “It’s a rape call. I hate these calls the most. Put on your latex gloves, Jay. You might need ’em.” She took a plastic package from her own breast pocket and set it on the seat beside her.
They arrived at an apartment four-plex and hustled up the walk to the security door. In the distance, a siren wailed.
“Ring the bell for number two. Let’s get in there before the paramedics arrive and see if we can get any information now—maybe get a lead. Otherwise, we’ll have to work around the rape counselor at the hospital, which’ll slow us down.”
The buzzer sounded and Jaylynn pushed the door open. She led the way down the hall as Dez donned her latex gloves. They hurried to the second door on the left, which they found was ajar. She banged on the doorframe loudly. “Police.”
A tiny whimper from inside and someone said, “Come in.”
Jaylynn pushed the door open and eased her way in, her heart beating wildly. What she found shocked her. Facing her, a very young woman, maybe only seventeen or eighteen, knelt between a ratty sofa and a coffee table clutching a phone receiver. She was dressed in a skirt and a ripped blouse with blood spattered on the front. Her hair was a mess and blood streamed from a cut along her eyebrow. Tears poured down her face and mixed with the blood. She set the receiver back on the cradle with a shaky hand.
Jaylynn drew near and knelt on one knee beside her, putting a gloved hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Hey,” she said. “I’m Officer Savage. You’re safe now. Can you tell us what happened?”
The girl glommed onto her leg and began sobbing wildly. “He raped me. He hurt me and hit me—he just kept hitting me!”
Dez’s low voice sounded from above Jaylynn’s head. “Who did this to you?”
“I don’t—I don’t know his—” She hiccupped and tried to go on. “I don’t know his name. He lives in the up—upstairs apartment.”
Jaylynn said, “What’s your name, honey?”
“Kristy South.”
“And how old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Where are your parents?”
“They’re at work,” the girl sobbed.
Jaylynn patted her back. “Shhh, it’s okay.” She felt tears come to her eyes and she couldn’t will them away.
“What does the man look like?” Dez interrupted, as she made notes in her notebook.
The question brought on a fresh wave of tear
s.
“Hey, it’s all right. What do you remember about the guy?” The girl burrowed closer to her and pressed her face into Jaylynn’s chest, making a mess of her uniform front. Jaylynn paid no attention. “Tell us what he looks like and we’ll make him pay for doing this to you.”
“Brown hair, brown eyes, I think.”
“How old?” Dez asked.
“I don’t know. Old like my parents.”
“Good. That’s helpful. How tall was he?”
“Taller than me, but not much.”
“How tall are you?”
“Five-five.”
“His race?”
“White,” the girl said.
“What was he wearing?”
The girl looked up over Jaylynn’s shoulder and told Dez, “Jeans. Black shirt. And—and—Nikes, red and white ones. He had a brown bomber jacket.” She started to get up. “I need a tissue.”
Jaylynn got to her feet still holding onto the girl’s arm. “You sure you’re okay, Kristy? Here, you sit there on the couch. I’ll get you a tissue.”
On shaky legs the girl sat back on the rumpled sofa. Jaylynn crossed the room and grabbed a box of tissues off the bookshelf and brought them over. She took two herself and placed the box on the coffee table in front of the girl. She wiped her own eyes, blew her nose, and squatted back down in front of the girl and put a hand on her knee.
Dez hit her shoulder mic and reported in to dispatch, giving a description of the assailant and requesting backup.
The phone on the coffee table rang and the girl leaned forward to pick it up, then pressed a number and hung up. They heard a far-off buzz and the clumping noises of the paramedics coming down the hall.
Dez asked quickly, “Kristy, how many apartments are there upstairs?”
“Two. Mrs. Leopold lives in one and the man just moved in the other.”
“Which apartment does Mrs. Leopold live in?”
“The one with the bird on the door.”
A knock sounded and Dez walked back to usher in the EMTs.
Jaylynn said, “The paramedics will take good care of you. You’ll be safe with them, hon. I need to call your parents. How can we reach them?”
“I already called my mom,” the girl wailed in a high voice. “She’s coming home from work now.” She grabbed more tissues from the box and pressed them to her eyes. Jaylynn stood up, tears on her face, and stepped away to allow the EMTs access to the girl. She heard a breathless voice down the hall calling out, “Kristy! Kristy!”
Dez stopped her at the door.
“I’m her mother—I need to see her,” the woman said wildly.
“Ma’am, she’s going to be okay.”
“Where is she?”
“Listen,” Dez said, in a low, authoritative voice. She made the mother look her in the eye. “You need to calm down now. You need to be strong for her. She’s scared, but she’s okay.”
The woman covered her mouth with her hand looking for all the world like she was would burst into hysterics.
“You can do this, can’t you? Because the paramedics are going to take her to the hospital to be checked. They’ll probably let you ride in the ambulance with her if you’re very calm.”
Mutely, the girl’s mother nodded, her face pale and solemn.
“If you’ll wait here, ma’am, they’ll bring her out in a few moments.” Once the EMTs wheeled the girl out into the hall, Dez wrote a last note. She slipped her notebook into her pocket.
Jaylynn stepped out the apartment doorway, following the medics.
“Savage,” Dez hissed under her breath.
With a start, Jaylynn looked away from the scene in the hallway to see Dez livid with anger.
“Quit crying,” Dez whispered sternly. “Wipe away the tears.”
A shudder of revulsion ran through Jaylynn, but she complied, swiping her face hastily along the sleeve of her blue shirt. The paramedics prepared to move the girl out to the ambulance, followed by the mother, who was making a valiant attempt at calmness.
Once the mother, daughter, and paramedics were through the glass front door, Dez grabbed Jaylynn’s arm. Bending down close to Jaylynn, she said angrily in a muted voice, “Cops don’t cry. The public expects us to be sympathetic, to be understanding, but we goddamn don’t cry. You understand? No tears on duty.”
Before Jaylynn could respond, the backup squad arrived, lights flashing. They bumped there way up on the parking strip. In the flashing lights outside, Jaylynn saw two cops get out of the vehicle, but she wasn’t sure who they were. Dez went out the front door and down the stairs to confer with them briefly, and all three turned and moved up the steps toward Jaylynn. She opened the door for them. Without a glance at Jaylynn, Dez strode through followed by the two men, one of whom headed into the apartment. The second officer and Dez hit the staircase near the front door, taking steps two at a time. Shocked, Jaylynn trailed behind, feeling sick to her stomach. She was afraid she would start crying anew, but she forced herself to concentrate on navigating the stairs. When she got to the top, Dez was halfway down the hallway, waiting, gun in hand. So was the other officer. Across the hall, the other apartment door sported a life-like stuffed cardinal perched on a skinny piece of wood.
“Are you ready for this?” Dez whispered accusingly, looking back.
Jaylynn nodded and unholstered her weapon.
They stood on either side of the doorframe, backs to the wall, she and Dez on one side, the backup cop on the other. Dez rapped on the door with the butt of her gun. “Open up! Police.”
Jaylynn held her breath and waited. No noise. Then across the hall, the door opened a crack and a diminutive old lady peeked out. She saw the officers holding their guns and smacked the door shut. Jaylynn looked at Dez, and they both holstered their weapons.
Dez stepped over and tapped on the door. It opened two inches.
“Yes?” a wavering voice said.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but have you seen the man who lives across the hall?”
“He went out some time ago. He came dashing down the hall, ran in, and slammed the door on his way out. Why?”
Dez said, “We need to talk to him. Soon. If he comes back, will you please call 9-1-1?”
The elderly woman opened the door wider. She looked rattled, but she craned her neck upwards at Dez. “Why certainly, Officer. What’s he done?”
“I can’t say, ma’am, but if he returns, stay in your apartment and don’t talk to him. Call 9-1-1, tell them where you live, and explain that the man in apartment three has come back. They’ll send a squad car over. Do you know his name?”
“No, I don’t. He just moved in recently.”
“Okay, ma’am. Here’s my card. If you have any questions or any information about him, call and leave me a message. I’ll call you back.”
Mrs. Leopold took the card reluctantly and tucked it into the pocket of her housecoat.
Dez said, “Thank you, ma’am. Oh, and one more thing: can you give us the phone number or address for the manager of this apartment?”
Jaylynn said nothing all the way back to the car. She got in and sat silently as Dez called dispatch and reported what she learned from the little old lady. Dez got out her notebook and made a few more notes before starting up the engine and pulling away from the curb. She gave a wave to the other squad as they drove off in the opposite direction. In the dim light of the dashboard, Dez wasn’t able to make out Jaylynn’s expression, but she knew she was upset.
Dez sighed. “Hey, should we swing by the station and get you a new shirt?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“That blood is going to set. You won’t be able to get it out.”
“I don’t care.”
Dez hesitated for a moment and then plunged in. “Jaylynn, rape calls are pretty awful.” No response. She shifted in the driver’s seat. “You think I’m cold and hard hearted.”
“Yeah. That about sums it up.”
Dez grimaced, strug
gling to decide what tack to take. “When you respond to a call like that, it’s—well, it’s not personal at all. You have to put all thoughts of your own feelings out of your head.”
“That’s inhuman.”
“No, it’s not. You have a job to do, a specific job. Of course you’re concerned with the victim’s health and safety, but after that, your job is to get information we can act on. Get descriptions; take note of the crime scene. What did you get for notes?”
Jaylynn shrugged and didn’t answer.
“We’re lucky the sergeant didn’t show up and check on us.”
“But the girl needed more than two impersonal cops standing there interrogating her and making perfect notes.”
Gently, Dez said, “And she’s getting that right now from medical and psychological doctors. That’s their job. Our job is to help catch the asshole who did this, and the way we do that is by gathering information as quickly as possible and then acting on it. I was harsh with you in there to shock you out of your feelings about that kid. When you go to these types of calls, you can be mad. You can be furious. And of course you’ll be upset. But don’t show it. You can’t show weakness at such a time. The victim is looking to you as an authority figure who will protect and help.”
“What about support? What about gentleness and kindness?”
In a frustrated voice, Dez said, “You can still be supportive and kind, but you goddamn can’t cry!” In a much quieter voice, she added, “You cry later. Cry all you want.”
“Do you?”
Dez was taken aback. “Well, sure. Sometimes. Not so much anymore.” She sighed. “In nearly nine years I think I’ve seen a version of just about everything. After a while, you catch on to the fact that it’s the human condition. There’s misery and suffering and bad luck galore. I couldn’t possibly cry enough for everything I’ve seen.”
Jaylynn crossed her arms over the bloodstained uniform. In a soft voice she said, “I don’t know if I can do a job where I don’t get to have my feelings.”
“You can have your feelings, Jay. You just can’t show them under some circumstances. By the way, you did everything else right tonight. You were supportive. You kept her calm. You got her to focus on telling us what we needed to know.”