Her lips quivered along with her breath. She paused and tried to compose herself. "And then she took the time away. And sometimes it's really hard to be around my friends who have their kids still. They're passing all these milestones, and they aren't struggling. I want to be happy for them. I wouldn't wish this loss on anyone, but it is so hard not to be envious of their children's futures. Because I know I'll never get that. And it hurts."
I'd done the same thing to my family. I'd taken away the possibility of the future. The what could have been. The promises I'd made to Maggie for when we were old and gray. To my mother. To Grace. All those things I'd never thought about. I'd never get to vet my daughter's first boyfriend. To make sure he was worthy of her and that she would also treat him right. I wouldn't watch her graduate from high school or go to college. I wouldn't walk her down the aisle. I'd taken that from her. Her milestones. The things she may have wanted me there for. I'd stripped them from her.
I turned to Luke. "None of it makes any sense. Why these things have to happen to innocent people."
"Questioning the why isn't the purpose."
I pulled on my hair. "So what's the purpose, then?"
"To see how all of this has shaken them down to their very foundations and to watch them rise from the ashes. Because they will rise."
22
The stale recycled air of the police department brought back memories of this office, which I did and didn't want to face. Every time I'd entered this room, I'd find it the same. Even today. The reek of the ever-burning cinnamon candle and the source of my sneeze attacks sat in the corner of the worn, oversize desk. The flame too high for the jar, flickering, the black smoke rising along with it.
"Thank you for coming, Dr. Collins." My former chief of police gestured to the good chair of the two across from his paper-cluttered desk. This chair was next to the worn, padded chair occupied by the mayor. Apparently, he wasn't smart enough to know not to sit in the one with the wobbly leg that popped every time you sat down. If I got stuck in the chair, I never relaxed. I was always ready to jump up because it could give way at any moment. Sucker. My brows knit together at the meeting occurring before Luke and me. The chief meeting with the doctor from time to time wasn't abnormal, but I wasn't aware the mayor ever got in on it. Then again, what did I know about interdepartmental meetings?
As per his usual, Luke propped against a far wall, one leg folded over the other, hands shoved in the pockets of his suit, which was still somehow perfectly crisp and not a wrinkle in sight. It annoyed me. His icy cool stare took in the scene before him. Which also annoyed me. Everything about him annoyed me.
Chief Kober scratched the back of his shaved head before folding his hands together in front of him on his desk. "I know this meeting is a little unorthodox compared to what we typically do; however, I felt with recent events it was warranted."
Dr. Collins nodded in agreement. "I understand. If you hadn't called, I was planning to come by this afternoon anyway."
"I don't know what the confidentiality laws are after death in regard to your practice, specifically…but is there anything you can or are willing to share with us?" Mayor Hughes's ears flushed red. He gulped hard. Sweat beaded on his balding forehead, which his comb-over did nothing to hide. If he were playing poker, he'd lose his ass because all his tells were showing.
"Now if that's not the most political line of crap I've ever heard, I don't know what is," I muttered and glanced to Luke who was as unaffected as always.
"The only reason Jason trusted me enough to confide in me was because he knew I kept what we discussed between us. I told him from the beginning, while, yes, I was hired by the department, he was my client. The only time I would ever report back to you, Chief, was if I felt he was a danger to the community, unable to fulfill his job duties as an officer, or was a danger to himself."
"Well you obviously missed the mark on the last one," Mayor Hughes muttered.
Shoving off the wall, I reached for the back of his neck.
Luke's grip of death jerked me back before I could lay a finger on him. "Don't. You cannot interfere in this realm."
I jerked my arm out of his grasp. "Don't touch me."
"For the purposes of our investigation, did Jason discuss suicide with you or killing anyone else?" Chief Kober asked, taking his murderous glare off the mayor and looking toward the doctor for answers.
"A lot of things you may ask me I cannot answer outright due to privilege. However, what I will say in a broad sense is he felt a frustration with the world. But you find me a cop who was doing this job as long as he has…had. And wasn't jaded in some capacity. Look, I've done this for over thirty-five years, and I've seen a lot of things in my time. I've had to report patients because of threats they've made during sessions or make sure they've gotten further help based on their needs. I also know officers in general are very smart because of their training and are typically very careful with how things are worded and aren't always forthcoming in their true feelings. So it's my job to read between the lines. To read them. Their body language. The things they say and don't say. Some of them clench their fists, their nostrils flare, others’ jaws will tic so hard I'm waiting for molars to crack. Everyone has tells even when they think they don't." He gave a pointed stare to the mayor, whose entire face flushed red.
The chief dragged both hands down his face, leaning back in his chair. "And even through all of that, you seem surprised by what happened. You never came to me with concerns that Jason was suicidal. You told me he needed more sessions, and he was struggling with PTSD, but you never said anything about this."
"This isn't a perfect science or some kind of math equation to be solved and all is right in the world. We're talking about complex human beings here. He was making progress. He gave the okay to share his updates with you on that. I was seeing a change in his behavior from when I first started working with him to now. Were there setbacks? Of course. There always are. His wife called us when she was worried about things, did she not?" Doc adjusted his black-rimmed glasses. They were such a contrast to his gray flattop and beard.
"She did and she did the right thing. I've known Maggie for a long time. She's a good friend." The chief took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"And would you change what she did, knowing what you know now?"
Both men exchanged a knowing look.
The mayor looked back and forth between them, brows knit together. "Knowing what? What did she do? What's going on here that I'm unaware of? If this is part of the investigation then I have a right to know," he demanded.
"You don't actually. It's covered under Maggie's privilege," Doc replied.
The withering glare he gave the mayor made him shrink in the chair. Not asking any further questions.
Now I was confused as I met Luke's not-so-frosty glare. "Maggie's privilege? Keith Kober has been our friend for twenty years. How does that give her privilege for going to him for help?"
Luke rolled his eyes. Once again annoyed with me. "I hope you weren't this stupid on earth too. Your doctor was banking on the crooked mayor not knowing enough about the real law to challenge him. And he was right because he backed off."
Chief chewed on his bottom lip, as if deep in thought. "So do you think this is going to be something we need to address with our guys in general?"
"I'll be frank with you. The mental health of your officers needs to be taken seriously. You guys call me in for consultations after an incident. In some cases, that's too late. Your guys are being beaten down. We need to start this from the beginning. When you guys go through the hiring process, they have to come see me for a mental health assessment, correct?"
"Yes, you are correct." Chief nodded, following the drift of the conversation.
"What's the point?" the mayor chirped as he wiped his sweat-covered forehead.
I wanted to lunge again. Or at the very least kick the underside of his chair as hard as I could. Luke gave me an almost nonexistent shake of hi
s head. If I had blinked, I would have missed it.
"Why isn't it continued after that?" Doc powered on. Undeterred by my old sleazeball mayor.
"I'm not understanding you." The mayor looked completely confused.
Dr. Collins turned his tall body to completely face the mayor. "Is the mental health and welfare of your officers not a priority for you?"
The mayor sputtered. "Don't ever put words in my mouth. My officers are always a priority for me. But we don't have the funding for that."
"We're not on camera. You can drop the theatrics, here," Dr. Collins deadpanned.
The mayor's jaw dropped open.
The chief coughed to try to cover his laugh.
"Holy shit. Go, Doc." The corner of my mouth tipped into a smile.
Completely undeterred, Doc kept harassing the mayor. "So you're trying to tell me there's enough money in the city's budget for a three-quarter-million-dollar mural of the city's emblem on the main drag of town that no one cares about…and yet you can't find the funding in a multimillion-dollar city to take care of the men and women in your department?"
His stare was unwavering.
The jerk in the room rolled his beady little eyes. "You're talking about one troubled man here, Doctor. Not the whole."
The air in the room shifted, along with the posture of the man who'd never stopped having my back. William Collins's spine went rigid as he pushed himself to the edge of his chair. His naturally high brows pulled low, disappearing below the top of his dark-rimmed glasses. I'd been on the other side of the glower he was shooting in the mayor's direction. It made me take half a step back even though I wasn't on the receiving end of it right now.
"That's where you're wrong. If you bothered to look at the research, officers and firefighters are five times higher to suffer from PTSD than typical civilians from the things they deal with while working the road. A lot of them live and work in the same towns, never getting away from the source of traumas they experience. One hundred fifty-five officers took their lives last year alone. That rate has gone up since last year. What you are asking them to do is go on a call, where they see a child who has been abused, neglected, or heaven forbid, murdered. A woman sexually assaulted, or a man dead after a car accident, decapitated, which means they have to search for the head for hours in the dark. So many drug overdoses you make them carry Narcan and administer it themselves now. They respond to house fires, where the smell of burning hair and flesh seep into their sinuses and never goes away. No matter how many showers they take. Then they are to put a smile on their faces and pretend to their families and the public that all is fine in the town. A town that is oblivious to ninety percent of what happens in it because it is kept under wraps to not induce panic. You think they are above human emotions?" Doc adjusted his glasses with his hand. Gazing intently into the mayor's eyes. "I'm sorry to tell you, Mayor, they are human beings and the job doesn't work like that. What they hear, smell, witness, and try to find justice for never leaves them. It only collects and builds in their minds until there is little room for anything else but guilt, pain, and anger. The statistics don't lie. I haven't even gotten to the ones who have been in some kind of shooting or accident of some kind. Who are struggling to find a new normal after a trauma while in the line of duty."
Bile burned the back of my throat. I swallowed hard, refusing to meet Luke's eyes. Those numbers. I had become a statistic. In more ways than one.
"I hate to say this, but that is what Jason signed up for," the mayor said.
A loud huff filled the silence. We all glanced in the direction of the sound. Chief Kober's face was flushed scarlet. "Has anyone ever told you what you say after that 'but' makes your previous statement irrelevant? You didn't have to say it. Otherwise you wouldn't have uttered those absolutely insulting words."
Mayor Asshat puffed out his chest in a ridiculous show of power. "Need I remind you, Kober, that I am your boss?"
"And need I remind you, Mr. Mayor, that my officers are what protect your city every day. I will not sit here silently and let you bad-mouth them or say they deserve anything because you feel it's in their job description. We know what we signed up for. We run into danger while everyone runs out. We do not need to be told that. Everyone hates us until they need us. That doesn't stop us from doing our jobs to the best of our abilities. Do not diminish what my people go through or what they deal with. No one knows that better than we do."
The mayor didn't seem to know what to say. My "screw you" was pretty lame in comparison to the verbal smackdown my former chief and friend had just handed him. I turned to Luke. "You know, we all start out wanting to make a difference. To help people. But the world is broken. We live in a fallen society. To face it every day, bravely, and let it affect you personally will chew you up and spit you out. So we all shut it out. The shittiest part is we all get blamed for the actions of a few. I can't say all cops are good because some aren't. But they are not the majority. Just like I can't say society as a whole is bad because all I ever saw were scumbags. It is the lens in which we view the world that dictates our feelings. Every officer, paramedic, doctor, nurse, even the public favorite little firefighters, have to shut their emotions down. We have to, or we won't survive our chosen field. You'd find them all rocking in a corner."
"Do you think any of them care what you deal with?" Luke asked in a raspy tone.
"Of course they don't! They'll never get it. And I don't expect them to understand completely but a little empathy could go a long way. My first wreck scene as a rookie, the guy was changing a flat tire on the side of the interstate. Some drunk chick on her fifth DUI hits him and pins him between the side of his truck and the hood of her car. She's too drunk to know or care what's going on. He had gone to the store to get his wife some diapers for their newborn, took a detour to get his wife's favorite ice cream as a surprise, and would never see either of them again because of a drunk. He was in shock. It was so cold outside I was shivering uncontrollably.
"All I wanted to do was get back in my car, but this guy was dying while pinned between two cars. We knew the second we moved her car, he was a goner. He kept asking if he was going to die, and we told him no he'd be all right. We called his wife, so she would get the chance to say goodbye. But she didn't make it to the scene in time."
Luke stared at me without speaking. The ice inside him cutting through me.
"I'll never forget what the sound of tearing flesh sounds like. Have you ever heard that before?"
Luke cleared his throat and readjusted his tie. "You'd be surprised at what I've experienced."
"Well, I wouldn't wish my experiences on anyone. And that story was just one of many. I threw up in the median afterward. I couldn't find that inner calm they taught us in the academy. My training officer told me to get it together because this is how things were. I had to become hard to survive."
Dr. Collins was still wearing his battle glare. The mayor on the other hand didn't look like he liked being challenged.
"Let me explain something to you, Hughes." The doc assessed the man who ran the city. "Your first responders are not robots. They are not programmed to be emotionless, contrary to popular belief." His hawklike stare swept over the chief. "I think you of all people would know this after working the road as long as you did, before coming upstairs. Each accident, each dead body, each domestic, every abused child, thefts, shootings, all of it adds up over time.
"One person can only handle so much until they start to break down. You're both telling me you expect them all to take ten to fifteen calls a shift, every day, forty to fifty hours a week for twenty-five years and not have any mental repercussions before they can retire? And that is just the job? We aren't even talking about personal lives and problems they encounter off the job. So tell me again, how you don't understand how therapy shouldn't be mandatory and a part of their routine from the beginning?"
The corners of Luke's mouth tipped into a smug smirk. The almost colorless blue of his gaze see
med to twinkle. "He's kind of a badass, isn't he?"
I dipped my chin in a nod. "Yup."
Hughes vehemently shook his head. "They won't go. They have egos. Getting them to show up will be impossible and will be a waste of taxpayer dollars."
"Like your hair plugs," Luke murmured.
The doc shook his head like he was getting bored with the mayor. "First of all, I treat everyone from Navy SEALs, to secret service, to feds, to officers, and everything in between. I specialize in men and women in uniform in high-stress environments. Second, you'd be surprised who will show up. Third, we need to be the ones to remove the stigma. Telling everyone it is okay to seek treatment will be a huge step in doing that. You need to support it."
"Lastly, we don't give them a choice," Chief chimed in. "We failed Jason. In every way, we failed him. The least we can do is to not let it happen to anyone else."
My chest contracted. I doubled over, suddenly having a hard time breathing. "I didn't see that coming."
"How does that make you feel?" Luke asked from right behind me, a hand on my shoulder.
The truth hit me harder than anything I was prepared for. "Lighter."
23
"Luke! I'm ready. Send me back! I get it. What I did was stupid and I understand what you were trying to show me now. Please, send me back," I pleaded, pulling on the lapels of his suit, the desperation making my voice crack.
In one swift motion, he brushed off my hands like my viselike grip was nothing more than a child's hands. "That's not how this works. This wasn't whatever Christmas movie fantasy you imagined it would be." He released a bitter laugh and looked at me with distain. "You made your choice. In fact, it took you months and months to plan your decision, Jason. Your suicide wasn't an impulse. You had it mapped out to the very last detail. This was never a second chance."
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