Finding Peace: Baytown Boys

by Maryann Jordan

  “Great, just great,” his deep voice rumbled against Ginny’s side, winking down at her.

  “Hey,” Ginny twisted around, pretending to glare. “You knew that when you started dating me!”

  Kissing her hard and fast, he groused, “I know and I’m proud of you. But that doesn’t mean I have to like the danger you are in.”

  “Honey, in this town, there’s not a lot of danger.”

  “Any amount is too much,” he whispered against her lips, before kissing her again.

  “Don’t worry,” she assured. “You’ll be too busy tomorrow night selling drinks and food, you won’t even miss me.” Grinning, she teased, “You better save some for me!”

  “Babe, for you, I’ll save anything you want.”

  “Hmm,” she purred, “I’ll have to get creative then. Fish and chips won’t be near enough!”

  “Ginny, can you spare a few minutes?”

  Recognizing Katelyn’s voice, she replied, “What’s up?”

  “There’s a meeting with a bunch of Auxiliary women, who were gathering to make sure we had what we needed for our block party booth tonight and, of course, the topic of conversation turned to the recent events. Some of the women are scared and I know you’re slammed, but if you had a few minutes, could you talk to us?”

  Glancing at the clock on the wall near her desk, she replied, “Sure. I’ll be right there.”

  Within fifteen minutes, Ginny was facing a group of almost twenty women of all ages, concern etched on their faces.

  “You know we have no definitive information other than what Mitch has given at the announcement, but the most important thing to understand is what you need to do to be safe. And there are very definite things you can do to ensure that.”

  All eyes were glued on her, anxious and eager, for any information she could impart. Ginny realized how much terror this individual had created and she grew angry at that loss of control for these women.

  “Number one, do not walk alone, especially at night. Sexual predators look for opportunity and a woman alone, gives them that opportunity. Number two, be aware of your surroundings. Don’t just blindly walk to your car or down the street without looking around. They don’t want to risk getting caught, and a woman whose head is up, looking around, with a firm grip on their phone or purse, is not someone they want to tangle with.”

  “What about at home? The peeping tom?” one woman asked.

  “Ladies, you must lock your doors and windows,” Ginny implored. “Keep your blinds closed and curtains closed at night. And don’t change clothes in front of windows or in a room with open windows.”

  “You know what I hate about this?” Jillian’s mother, Claire Evans, said. “I used to love leaving the windows open so the bay breeze could flow through the house. In the last week, I’ve kept the house locked up tight. I should have control over my own house, not some pervert!” Applause broke out in agreement.

  Swallowing deeply, Ginny nodded. “I agree. You should have control. You should have control over your house. Control over your life. Control over your body. But the reality is that there is someone out there who wants that control and doesn’t mind taking it.”

  “You’re all so strong,” Belle said softly, looking around the room. “I’m such a ninny and have always kept my doors and windows locked, even before this.” Shrugging slightly, she added, “It seems like I’ve been scared my whole life.” As her eyes cut over to Ginny, she said, “You’re especially strong, Ginny. I can’t image you being afraid of anyone.”

  Rubbing her hand over her face, Ginny leaned against the table in the front of the gathering. The butterflies in her stomach threatened to take flight, but she plunged ahead. “I know that kind of fear. I know that loss of control.” The women’s eyes were trained on her, almost fearful as she continued. “In the military, I was the victim of a sexual harassment situation where cameras were placed in the women’s showers and then the videos were posted online and passed around.”

  Gasps were heard as jaws dropped and every woman’s eyes widened in shock.

  “No fucking way,” Katelyn cursed, her face a mask of anger.

  “And when I protested and filed complaints, I was harassed. And then, one night, assaulted in my bed.”

  “Oh, Jesus, no,” cried Corrine MacFarlane, her eyes full of tears.

  “I wasn’t raped, but I was assaulted.” Shaking her head gently, Ginny realized she no longer feared saying her story out loud. These women needed to hear her story…know that a woman can be strong in the face of adversity…know that a woman can survive even when control is wrenched away. Pushing away from the table, she stood proudly and pointed to her chest, saying, “But I survived. I continued to fight against the injustice of it all. The Army conducted a huge investigation into the shower video scandals. I had left the Army by then, but I knew that I had a hand in taking back the control for women soldiers. For taking back my control.”

  “You didn’t give up,” Corrine whispered, pride shining in her eyes.

  Ginny looked down at Brogan’s mom and replied, “Yeah, I did. Admittedly, I grew tired and, by the end, I just wanted out. Stopped fighting. Almost stopped caring.” She realized at that moment that she had never spent any time with Corrine since she and Brogan had begun dating. Licking her lips, she wondered what the woman thought of her, but one look at her face and Ginny smiled softly as Corrine held her gaze.

  The group thanked Ginny for taking time to talk to them but she pushed aside their praise. “Hey, you all are here doing the Auxiliary work for the block party, so I want to do my part too.”

  “Oh, you’ll be doing your part,” Tori said, “since you have to work tonight.”

  Shrugging, Ginny smiled. “It’s all part of the job.” Heading back to the station, her heart lighter, she remembered how much she loved her job.

  24

  I hate my job.

  Ginny’s good will had come to an end as she managed to push her way toward the edge of the crowd, away from the band. Closing her eyes, she hoped Brogan was having a good evening because, as a cop, she was tired and grumpy and it was only ten p.m.

  The crowd was more than what was expected, but she shouldn’t be surprised. The local bands were good so the promise of good music, good food, and alcohol had pulled in hundreds more people to keep an eye on.

  Finn’s block party to raise money for the American Legion and Baytown Fire Department was in full swing with two blocks of town closed off to traffic and people were milling about in great numbers. The food trucks lined one end and she had seen Mexican, Barbeque, Chinese, and Cajun. Then there was the dessert trucks with funnel cakes, snow cones, donuts, and fried Oreos. The scent of food was tantalizing, initially, and after her fourth trip around the perimeter, she was starving.

  The other end of the blockade was a temporary stage for the evening’s entertainment and quite a few people were dancing on the street, just in front of it. As she walked along the sidewalk in front of the closed businesses, in the old, brick buildings that lined the town’s business end, she could not help but admire the history of Baytown.

  The sound of teenagers rang out and she quickly moved through the crowd to check out the situation, only finding a group calling out loudly to each other as they danced and laughed. Children scooted among the adults and she saw a few parents darting behind them. Looking to the side, she saw Torrin and Glenda Shadwell, their two daughters walking with them. The family looked happy and, as she passed, she offered a smile, pleased when she received one in return.

  Making her way to Finn’s large tent behind the pub, she stood to the side for a moment, admiring the MacFarlane’s set up. It had been Katelyn’s idea and it was a good one. The customers had to go to one side of the tent where they showed their ID to get an alcohol wrist band and their name was entered into a database. Each time they went through the line, the bartenders used a marker to make a black slash on the sturdy plastic. Keeping up with those who came back often, Brogan
or Aiden would cut them off. It made for a few pissed off customers, but Brogan was determined to cut down on the number of drunks staggering around. Most of the town was very impressed and as a police officer, she had to admit it was a great plan.

  Brogan caught her eye and grinned, making his way toward her. Bending down, he kissed her lips, whispering, “How you doing, babe?”

  “Fine, although, would you be pissed to hear me say that I’ll be glad when it’s over?”

  He chuckled, “Nah. To be honest, it’s been bigger and better than we expected, but I’ll be ready at midnight to shut it all down as well.”

  “Oh, God, two more hours,” she mumbled against his lips.

  “Hey, Romeo, wanna get me a beer?” someone shouted from the line.

  Brogan kept his lips on Ginny’s while flipping off the customer. Leaning back, he grumbled, “I gotta go.”

  “Me too. See you later.”

  With a wave, she continued around the perimeter of the masses, observing that the evening was going well. Families were out, their children dancing to the music. Couples were circling the dance floor, as well as moving along, hand in hand. She nodded to the other officers and deputies as she walked.

  “Officer Spencer,” she heard and, turning around, spied Helen rushing over to her, wearing a blouse with a bright blue cat embroidered over the breast pocket.

  “Helen,” she greeted.

  “I just wondered if that peeping man had been caught yet.”

  “No, ma’am. But we are working the case diligently.”

  The older woman patted her arm, “Oh, I’m sure you are. If you ever want some of my cookies, dear, just come by anytime.”

  Smiling her thanks, Ginny watched as Helen wandered off in the crowd. Turning around, she spied Al Barton wandering along, his beady eyes jerking around. Eyeing him for a moment, she determined there was no reason to try to follow him, so she continued walking down the sidewalk.

  Looking to the side, she almost ran into Corwin Banks and his wife. “Mayor, Phyllis,” she greeted, noting his apparent good humor.

  “Officer Spencer!” he shouted, making sure to be heard over the crowd.

  “Corwin,” Phyllis said, “you don’t have to shout. It’s not an election year.”

  “Just wanted to be sure the good Baytown officer, here, could hear. I’m sure her ear is trained for any unruliness.”

  Rolling her eyes, Phyllis smiled sympathetically at Ginny before moving on to greet someone else.

  “Well, I have to say that I didn’t think your boyfriend’s plan would work, but this is bringing in quite a bit of money,” Corwin said, his chest puffed out. “I know the proceeds from the sales here go to worthy causes, but with so many out-of-towners, the hotels and inns are full, and I’ve heard the town restaurants have had full houses today. Excellent, excellent.”

  Ginny smiled, not wanting to belabor her conversation with the mayor and hating the way the word boyfriend left his lips, but his nephew walked up and smiled at her, halting her escape.

  “Officer Spencer, nice to see you again,” Robert said, his gaze drifting down to her chest.

  “Robert,” she said, realizing how much like his uncle he was. Wow, to be such a smooze at a young age. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Oh, yes. I find the quaintness of the town to be fascinating.” His gaze drifted to the side as a group of young women walked by in tank tops and short shorts, twirling their hair and popping their gum. “And the diversions to be exceptional.”

  As he turned to follow, she called out, “Those happen to be teens, Robert.” He looked back at her before his eyes cut over to his uncle, who had now engaged someone else in conversation, then hesitated. “Just make sure to check the ages of anyone you decide to…uh…party with. Age of consent is eighteen in Virginia.”

  His wide-eyes narrowed suddenly as he stepped back closer to her. “I appreciate the warning, Officer. I’m sure I can handle myself.”

  With that, he walked away, but she noticed he walked in a different direction than the young girls. Turning, she decided to head toward the food trucks but had only made it half a block when she ran into Silas. And from the pinched expression on his face, he was no more glad to see her than she was him.

  “Officer Spencer,” he said, making her name sound like something unpleasant he stepped in.

  Knowing he had been against the block party, she smiled and said, “Isn’t it exciting how successful this endeavor is? And everyone is having such a good time!” She added the last in a sickly-sweet voice, just to irritate him, knowing it was childish. It was all she could to do to keep from sticking her tongue out at him.

  “We’ll see, we’ll see,” he sneered. “By the time we add up the expenses for the extra trash removal and,” his gaze swept her from head to toe, “the added police protection, who knows if this was profitable to the town or not.”

  “Part of the proceeds go to the town’s fire department,” she reminded, “and the added police protection is on a voluntary basis. So, I think when you crunch your numbers, you’ll be impressed.”

  He said nothing for a moment, his Adam’s Apple bobbing, before turning to walk away, tossing out, “There’s very little that impresses me about the police or the pub. Very little.” With that, he walked away, leaving Ginny to fume in his wake. She was surprised to see Celia make her way to him, but even more surprised to observe Celia place her hand on his arm, which he shook off before hustling away. The pissed expression on Celia’s face almost made up for the irritation Silas had cause. Lordy, this job is making me so catty.

  Her stomach grumbled again and she continued down the block. Coming to a food truck, she recognized a few of the workers, the tantalizing odor of spicy Mexican food meeting her nostrils. One called out to her and, as she made her way over, they handed her a soft tortilla filled with flavorful meat and beans, with a hint of queso.

  “Just like you like it, Officer Spencer?”

  “Oh, Manuel, thank you,” she gushed, her stomach ready for some food. Taking a big bite, she grinned, the flavors mixing in a delightful way on her taste buds. Pleased that he remembered she did not like food too spicy, the delicate blend of flavors was perfect. Grinning as she grabbed a napkin to wipe her chin, she continued along her patrol, her mood much improved.

  Brogan looked over the crowd, amazed at how many people came to the block party. It seemed as though most of North Hampton County had come, as well as some people from the Virginia Beach area. He knew the main band they had booked was local, but gaining popularity, and for the little fee they charged, it was a steal. Marking another customer’s wrist band, he also marveled at Katelyn’s idea. He, Katelyn, and Aiden had spent time trying to figure out the best way to control the flow of alcohol at the event, while still turning a profit. Working with Mitch, they decided to keep track of those who drank so that they could not cut off their wrist band and apply for a new one. The customers were told when they showed their ID that the bartenders would have ultimate say in who could and could not buy more beer. So far, it was working.

  As his gaze traveled over the crowd, he observed couples, from teens to elders, strolling around, hands held tightly. Sighing, he wished that he and Ginny had the opportunity to enjoy themselves instead of both working.

  A couple of teenage girls came up to him, attempting to buy beer. They flashed their eyes and one leaned forward so that she almost flashed her entire breasts to him, in an effort to gain his favor. “Keep moving,” he barked, his brow lowering as he glowered at them. “You want beer, you go over there and prove you’re old enough. Then, and only then, will I even consider serving you.”

  “Bastard,” one grumbled under her breath.

  “Girls, what are you doing here at the beer tent?”

  Brogan looked up and saw James standing nearby. The girls giggled and rushed over to him.

  “Oh, Mr. Smithson, isn’t this a great party?”

  “What are you drinking? Care to share?”
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  More giggling ensued and Brogan rolled his eyes. Barely noting the customer in front of him, he watched James carefully. If that man so much as even looked as though he would share his alcohol with those teens, Brogan would be over the bar in a flash.

  “No sharing, girls,” James said, moving back slightly to add more distance between he and the girls.

  “Hey, Brogan.”

  Brogan’s attention was diverted by Ben, up for another beer. “Hey, Ben, how’s it going?”

  “You got a great thing going here, man. This is fabulous.”

  Handing him a beer and marking his wristband, Brogan nodded. “Thanks. ‘Preciate it.”

  Ben turned, taking a sip, and saw James with his groupies hanging around. “Geez, I see it at work and damned if I don’t see it when I go out.”

  Brogan’s attention was pulled away by the next customer and when he looked up again, the girls were gone and so was James. Good riddance.

  Loud voices at the other end of the beer tent grabbed his attention and he hustled over to see what was happening.

  “I’m telling you, your name is already on the list,” Katelyn was saying. Gareth was standing at her back, his stance protective.

  “I ain’t got no band on my wrist, so I ain’t been here yet,” the man yelled, staggering slightly.

  “Just because you took it off after you were shut down at the bar does not mean you get to start over,” she said, her voice firm.

  “Mister, you need to move on,” Gareth said, just as Brogan and Aiden made it to the table.

  Ginny walked up, assessing the situation, her gaze jumping from the man to Brogan. With a slight nod his way, she placed her hand on the man and said, “You need to move on, now. They’re not serving you anymore. In fact, it looks like you’ve already had enough.”

  He whirled, his face red with anger. “Shut up, bitch. This ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

  In a flash, Brogan scaled over the counter, his size not hindering the speed with which his arms pressed down and his legs swung over. Ginny blinked at his agility, before jerking her gaze back to the inebriated man.