No Closure, No Forgiveness

by Pawan Verma

  “Morning Lieutenant,” she said after answering on the fourth ring.

  “Nothing good about this morning, Detective. You know that, don’t you?”

  Lieutenant Mann, her commanding officer at Baltimore’s Homicide Division. A good guy, really, but the two weren’t getting along. Not since the fallout where she’d been exposed and ostracized in front of dozens of officers who had grown to respect her over the years.

  Maybe Mann has a personal agenda, Jessica thought to herself, trying as hard as she could to tune out his rant. She couldn’t really blame the Lieutenant for not trusting her, especially since she’d fallen for a self-proclaimed cannabis enthusiast and UPS truck driver. Fourteen weeks later and the squad still hadn’t offered forgiveness, let alone acceptance. Jessica was beginning to believe they never would. For all she knew, she wouldn’t be around long enough to find out.

  “Let’s get one thing clear, Detective. You don’t go anywhere near the Brenner case, you hear me?”

  “Captain, I’m not so sure that guy—

  “It’s a matter for Daniels and Shelton,” he barked, referring to two other detectives on the city’s elite detective squad. “You don’t touch this case. You don’t make contact with the victim’s family. And you sure as heck don’t get anywhere near this Andrew character again. Understand?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Where is he anyway?”

  “I don’t know sir,” she lied.

  “Good. I got another case for you. Unless you want me to hand you over to Internal Affairs. To be honest, they’re a little ticked off at you, remember?”

  She remembered. Patrick Brenner had filed a class-action lawsuit against the Department after learning of her and Andrew’s fling. He’d found out she’d been abused earlier and decided that the two had hatched a plan to protect Irene from prosecution. Not much evidence to back up the allegations, but the city didn’t necessarily need evidences to believe the charge. Circumstances were enough. However, the Department had the full quota of embarrassment as the settlement proved to be a major fallout for it. And Jessica ended up being the scapegoat for an administration that needed someone to blame.

  “Sir, I understand the rules now. I know I just joined the team but I’m going to make it up to you guys. I promise.”

  “I know you will. Before you do, I need you to go get a psych eval.”

  “Sir?”

  “You heard me, Galloway. You’re a ticking time bomb. Go see the head shrink. Get cleared, and maybe, just maybe I’ll give you another case.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll get it done.”

  He had already hung up. Jessica sighed, then stretched and yawned. She glanced at the wall clock. Just a few minutes past seven. As much as she wanted to hate her CO for not trying to understand what she—and Irene—had gone through—she knew it was no use. Men just didn’t get it.

  Andrew did though. And she knew exactly where he was. Only a few days after Andrew Hoffman had offered testimony that led to Irene’s acquittal, he’d been called by a federal prosecutor to testify in a racketeering case against his former cohorts, members of a well-known and ruthless street gang. Threats ensued. An attempt on Andrew’s life was initiated. And the chances of her being with her lover again had evaporated. Jessica was confident that she and Andrew would never see that island they talked about during those nights tucked beneath the sheets of that crappy hotel in East Side.

  Didn’t hurt to dream though.

  She flung her bare legs over the side of the bed, stared at the top of her feet. She wished she had time to get a pedicure, or at least a deep tissue body massage. She dismissed the thoughts and padded across the room, opened the blinds and stared outside. A light snow delicately painted the streets and sidewalks, the first pleasant sight she’d seen since Andrew had been ushered away to whereabouts unknown. And as soon as the peacefulness came, it disappeared as she recalled last night’s events.

  There had been the terror of realizing she could have been killed. Later, there had been the fear that she just wasn’t up for being a cop, not with her personal struggles in the past and her instability in the presence of violence. And of course she’d had to deal with the disappointment from knowing she’d screwed up. Again. Then came that awkward moment when she’d walked into the Homicide Division weekly strategy meeting twenty minutes late, her face chapped from excessive hand washing, her excuse more of a joke than an explanation. And now the anger that came from losing control.

  She neither needed, nor wanted, to see some silly doctor. A woman who would profile her, judge her, and strip her of what sense of humanity she still had. But it had to be done if there would ever be a chance that she could move up in her career someday.

  Jessica scurried into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, then turned the shower water to hot and stepped in. The water soothed her tense muscles and slowly she began to feel a little better than she had last night. She dragged the shower out as long as she could before she realized she would be late for her appointment if she didn’t get a move on. Finally, she stepped out, dried using the towel her grandmother had given her last year for Christmas, and dressed for the day.

  Casual was the way to go, Andrew had once told her. She opted for jeans instead of dress pants and chose a nice sweater to go along with a thin black leather jacket. She donned a small gold necklace and tucked it under the sweater. She added a coat of lavender lipstick so thin it could barely be seen. She wore her hair the same way she did for work. Tied back into a bun, a necessity to meet Department regulations.

  She gave a final look at the mirror and glanced at the clock again. Thirty minutes after seven. The appointment with Doctor Sarah Chapman was at eight. Jessica ran downstairs and grabbed a bagel from the kitchen counter. Then she picked up her keys and phone and headed for the door.

  Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. The Caller ID informed her that the number was restricted. Ever since trauma and constant fear had been introduced into her life, Jessica didn’t like answering calls unless she knew who she was speaking with in advance. Yet another insecurity that would eventually cause her troubles on the job.

  Jessica ignored the call. But then the phone buzzed again. Exhaling in frustration, she answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey baby girl. I don’t think this whole witness protection thing is gonna work out.”

  Jessica’s heart felt like it had stopped beating. Or was that because Andrew Hoffman had it in his possession? She struggled to speak, to say something, anything. She’d waited to hear from him for so long. Now the words she’d so desperately longed to speak wouldn’t come out.

  Jessica was shocked at what she said next.

  “I can’t talk to you Andrew.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I can’t. I have to…I have to move on.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m calling.”

  Jessica wanted to scream. Not a leave-me-alone-or-I’m-calling-the-cops scream. But an I-love-you-so-much-but-this-is-too-complicated sort of scream. Why, oh why did this man always know exactly what to say?

  “We can’t live like this,” he said, as if reading her mind from wherever he was hidden in the country. “I’m miserable. And where are you anyway?”

  She didn’t answer.

  I heard about Irene. Jessica, I…”

  His voice trailed and she knew how he was feeling. Irene had been his friend as much as she had been hers. She resisted the urge to cry, knowing he would sense it. He would say things to make her feel better. And she would just stay on the phone longer and longer and longer.

  “Please, Jessica. Can we at least talk? I’ve never felt so empty in my life.”

  The pain in his voice was enough to make her want to forego the doctor’s appointment, and the Baltimore City Police Department altogether. But there was no way this could work out for either of them.

  “It’s not safe, Andrew. I hate myself for saying this. But I have to go, okay baby? Please don’t cal
l me anymore. Please. I love you but you gotta go.”

  “Jessica,” he whispered softly.

  She ended the call and rushed outside. The faster she moved, the less likely she’d keep crying, the more likely she could return to living the introverted life style she’d lived before. Her phone buzzed again so she turned it off, making a mental note to get the number blocked, knowing the U.S. Marshals would be contacted and things would happen to keep Andrew from calling ever again.

  She half-walked, half-ran to her vehicle, then pulled out of the driveway. She couldn’t afford to think about Andrew now. But she did it anyway. She loved him too much to forget about him, no matter how dangerous it might be to remember.

  Chapter Three : Help

  Christmas was less than two weeks away. Frustrated parents braved the wintry elements in a desperate effort to spoil their children so they would actually want to return to school following the break. City workers shoveled snow, families made last minute grocery store trips. And Jessica sat in a waiting room in the doctor’s office less than a mile away from Homicide.

  The detective reached down and shuffled through a selection of magazines. She wrinkled her nose, resisting the urge to make eye contact with the former cop who sat in a seat less than six feet from her. She waited patiently for Doctor Chapman to call her name.

  But, moments after she found her solitude, memories of Andrew returned to fill in the void…he pleading to talk to her, telling her how miserable he was feeling without her. And she struggling to keep herself in control, telling him that he got to go….even though deep down within herself, she knew she couldn’t live without him.

  She tried hard to fight her tears. Not here. Not before everyone.

  I have got to get over my vulnerabilities if at all I have to move on in my life, she told herself firmly.

  “Hello, Miss Galloway?”

  Jessica was startled as the voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up. The door was open and the psychiatrist, who specialized in conducting evaluations for police officers, typically determined “unfit for duty”, was standing in the doorway.

  Jessica got up hurriedly but composed herself quickly. She nodded to the doc, giving her a once over. Doctor Sarah Chapman was tall and elegant, her dark hair flowing freely below her shoulders. Her purple manicured nails matched nicely with her sweater, dress pants, and flats. The shrink smiled when she caught Jessica looking.

  “That new department store down the street has ‘em on sale for fifty bucks,” she whispered through pretty white teeth. Jessica smiled. She couldn’t help it. She kind of liked this woman already.

  “Follow me, Miss Galloway, my office is right here on the left.”

  Jessica entered the doctor’s office, immediately comforted by the room’s warmth. It wasn’t so much the temperature she appreciated, but the sense of belonging. The feeling was weird, but for some reason she felt that the doctor truly cared about her well-being and wanted the best for her.

  It was strange because they’d barely had a chance to meet, let alone get to know one another. So what was it about this woman that made her appear so…easygoing?

  Jessica took a seat on a cushioned black leather chair and took a moment to admire the assortment of academic and professional accomplishments plastered on the walls.

  Then she saw the family photos, the tall, strong, charming man lifting his beloved up off the ground and the pain returned. For a second she wondered if the picture had been methodically placed there simply to get a rise out of patients.

  Doctor Chapman’s polished fingers flew across her computer’s keyboard for a few seconds. She scribbled some therapy mumbo-jumbo, took a few sips of delicious smelling coffee, then looked into Jessica’s eyes. The warm smile was gone, now replaced with a look of seriousness that suggested her intentions were I’m not really here to help you, I’m here to make sure you never work as a cop again.

  Jessica returned to her defensive state, almost wishing she had brought her gun into the building.

  “How are you feeling,” Doctor Chapman asked.

  “Pretty annoyed,” Jessica answered. “Why do you ask?”

  “My job is to conduct a psychiatric evaluation and deliver a report to your commanding officer back at the precinct. So again, how do you feel right now?”

  “I don’t feel like I need a head shrink. I feel like situations like this are what cause me to feel uncomfortable in the first place.”

  The doctor nodded slowly and recorded some notes. “Jessica, over the last few months or so, you’ve become increasingly distracted over a man by the name of Andrew Hoffman. Is that correct?”

  Jessica frowned. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

  “People are worried that your personal feelings for him will continue to cloud your judgment.”

  You mean, the relationship presents a conflict of interest and I’m an ongoing liability for the Department because I might get somebody killed in the line of duty.

  “More importantly, they’re worried that your previous experiences with domestic abuse may have returned to haunt you.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “But you certainly think of those moments from time to time?”

  “I’m sorry, is that a question or a statement?”

  ‘It’s a question, Miss Galloway. Do you still think of the days you attended college?”

  “Of course. Who wouldn’t? It’s not enough to interfere with my ability to do my job.”

  “But you do remember what led you and this man to develop a relationship in the first place?

  “Of course. Andrew was there for me at a time when no one else was.”

  “I see.”

  More notes. Another sip of coffee.

  “Jessica, I want to ask you a question. Please answer honestly.”

  Jessica resisted the urge to show her hesitation. An honest answer might earn her some brownie points from the Department’s designated head shrink, but how would she deal with the consequences in the long run? After a moment of thought, she sighed and said, “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “Do you think your love for Andrew would lead you to make a horrible mistake of some kind?”

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  “I mean, do you think you would lose focus to the point of endangering someone else’s life?”

  “No, of course not. I’m a trained police officer.”

  “Then tell me, what happened on that day that you first met him that caused you to become so distracted?”

  Jessica briefly shut her eyes. She’d spent the last few months desperately trying to find a way to erase the memories of one of the most beautiful experiences she’d ever had. It was proving to be one of the hardest challenges she’d ever endured. Andrew wasn’t just a man she’d fallen in love with and wanted to marry, he was also her best friend, and one of the few friends she fully trusted.

  Jessica didn’t immediately answer the doctor’s questions. She knew these types of professionals well enough to know that they would drag out the silence forever until she said something.

  Outside the office, Jessica heard sirens wailing somewhere in the distance. Police sirens, may be a half-dozen squad cars or more. That’s where she belonged, out there in the city streets making a difference, doing what she signed up to do.

  Lately, the confusion she’d been feeling about life had become overwhelming. Yet the uncertainty of never feeling as if she were making the right choices was strangely comforting. Not knowing what to do made making poor choices a lot easier.

  It was the only way she’d ever be able to explain her next actions.

  Without thinking, she stood up and walked out of the office, ignoring Doctor Chapman’s cries that the psych eval was mandatory if she wanted to return to the police department. Because there was a part of her that really didn’t want to. Not anytime soon anyway. There was only one way to avoid sinking into the depressing, post-traumatic world in which she’d liv
ed following her days in college.

  Nothing could return to normal until she caught Irene Brenner’s killer and put him away forever. Even if it meant illegally reuniting with Andrew and facing Patrick Brenner head on.

  She kept walking until she was out of the doctor’s office and back outside into the frigid winter air. The tranquility she’d felt when she’d awakened that morning had disappeared, replaced with the feeling of dread that coincided with the freezing rain and cloudy skies.

  Jessica nodded to an off-duty street cop strolling down the sidewalk and jumped into her unmarked police vehicle. She wasn’t sure where she was going just yet, just that she had to get out of there.

  Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. Detective Michael Shelton, the lead investigator on the Brenner case. She answered quickly.

  “Shelton, what’s going on?”

  “Did ya make it in to see the doc?” he asked. She could hear his mocking tone and knew he would continue giving her a hard time so long as she allowed him to do so.

  “Hey cut it out, Shelton. You don’t know me well enough to judge me.”

  “I know ya enough to know you have some insight I could appreciate.”

  She frowned as she took a left at the next intersection and headed East. She knew exactly where she was going now, though months had passed since she’d been there.

  “So what are you talking about Shelton?”

  “We got a suspect for Irene Brenner’s murder.”

  “Oh really? Let me guess, her ex-husband?”

  “That’s the thing, it’s not so simple. I mean, yeah I’m sure he’s our guy. But I think he’s up to a lot more than either you or me could ever imagine.”

  Jessica scoffed and cranked the heat up in the car. No one knew just how far Patrick Brenner would really go except her. She’d seen the look in his eyes the day Irene had been acquitted, the day he’d decided that he’d blame everyone for what went wrong except himself. She told Shelton as much.

  “Yeah, that’s the thing Jessie—

  “Don’t call me Jessie—