Blood on the Threshold

by Karin Richmond

Dahlia did not hesitate to sign up. When she called Victim Services, she found out that she could elect to have a “call out option” for her cell phone or an “SMS texting” notification on any cell or email address she liked. She was warned, however, that since the system was new to Texas, there may be some false alarms. But the staff eased her concerns when they shared that this service was already in place in a dozen or so states and run by a private security company that had a contract throughout the nation. “So they know what they’re doing,” assured the state deputy. Dahlia was not dissuaded by their warning, and signed on the real-time notification option that very day.

  Brenda Naylor’s San Antonio security unit is a hive of muffled activity. One of her team leaders is asking about a new protocol when a signature audible tone rings out on the floor. The open room is low light and oversized screens are within reach for all the staff. Fingers fly on several transparent screens. “Major Naylor, it looks like we have a GPS breach in Houston!” She quickly moves to the screen and pulls up the parolee background. “Ortiz, Felipe. Rapist; child endangerment and assault. Out of Houston. Parole Officer Lincoln.”

  Her words are clipped as she gives the order. “Notify Officer Lincoln, now. We need boots-on-the-ground intel immediately.”

  Moments later, Officer Lincoln is on the secure line hearing the bad news. “Parolee Ortiz appears to have broken out of his safe zone. Can you confirm?”

  “He is not due to check in for an hour,” Officer Lincoln replied. “Where do his GPS coordinates put him?”

  Brenda pings the coordinates to his handheld secure device. “On it,” confirming receipt of the location data.

  A red warning button flashes slowly on the incident screen. This indicates that the system is in a countdown process to call and text the registered victim associated with the parolee. Protocol dictates that she wait for a few minutes to receive physical intel from Officer Lincoln. Lincoln pings her back on the system, confirming the parolee’s absence and that he had no permission to be outside the inclusive area. Brenda touches the red button to accelerate the call that will go out automatically in eight more minutes.

  Dahlia nearly jumps out of her seat when she hears the distinct tone reserved for victim notifications. Petrified, not only for herself but for her children, she manages to calmly share with her boss what is transpiring and leaves the bank within minutes to head to the school. She calls her children on the way and tells them not to ask questions but to meet her at the front of the school in a few minutes. “Do not leave the inside of the building until you see our car and see me and then come out quickly,” she says, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. She battled within herself as to whether she would tell her children the gravity of their situation. They had not had any connection with their father, and she thought this was an especially bad time to start. She decided to take the advice she had received from the professional staff at SafeHome, where she had already registered herself and her children as victims so they would know them should Dahlia ever get this dreaded call-out.

  Safely inside the shelter for victims of assault, the counselors were with Dahlia’s son and daughter, and she waited alone in a room, oblivious to the colorful art expressions of the youngsters who had found a home in this place. Nothing else to do but wait, and pray to her Lord.

  Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos

  Santificado sea tu Nombre

  Venga tu reino

  Hágase tu voluntad

  En la tierra como en el cielo

  Danos hoy el pan de este día

  y perdona nuestras deudas

  como nosotros perdonamos nuestros deudores

  y no nos dejes caer en al tentación

  sino que líbranos del malo.

  Amen.

  Major Brenda Naylor would be late for dinner, but she stayed on-site waiting for some snippet of information about parolee Ortiz. Her patience was rewarded with a call from Officer Lincoln.

  “We found Ortiz. He had made it as far as outside Temple. We put an APB out and the local PD located him near Interstate 35, heading north,” he reported in military fashion. Brenda relaxed and absently rubbed the back of her tired neck.

  “When he realized the officers were closing in, he pulled out a weapon and shot in their direction. The officers returned fire. He’s dead, Major.”

  “Thank you, Officer Lincoln. We will send out the appropriate notifications.”

  Brenda touched the red flashing button on the screen and made the personal call to Dahlia. It was the best call she had made in a long time.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This book has been thirty years in the writing, and I am indebted to many friends, family members, and colleagues who have helped me tell my story. I am especially grateful to Senator Juan Hinojosa for lending his ear and taking a chance on a very young and untried advocate for economic development. Very early readers of my manuscript who edited for love and encouraged me include my dear friends Sylvia de Leon and Yvette Reynolds. Belle provided exceptional insight and challenged me to tug out my emotions even though it hurt. Carrington McDuffie also offered gentle guidance. A special thanks goes to Pastor Mike Robertson at Riverbend Church in Austin. His Scribe class placed me among other writers in a secure and emotionally safe environment so I could dig deeper and pick up the writing I had left on the shelf for five years.

  And thanks to the people who took the time to circle back to events in their distant past and share their recollections and perspectives of events described in the novel. You know who you are.

  The Texas Department of Criminal Justice’s Victim Services Division has been a constant force for good over these years. While the staff might state they are just doing their job, I know Ms. McCown’s team is compassionate and respectful of women victimized by violent crimes.

  And certainly not least, I would like to thank the wonderful staff of Greenleaf Book Group for their support of my story and for providing me with the gracious and tenacious editor Linda O’Doughda.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Karin Richmond is one of eight Texans and the only Texas woman recognized for extraordinary achievement as a fellow member of the International Economic Development Council. She sits on two national editorial boards and is a thought leader in the field of tax incentive policy. She resides with her extended family in Austin, Texas. This is her first novel.