The Heat of Angels

by Lisa Girolami

  Sasha’s reply came in wet smacks.

  “You seem to be doing okay, right? You’ve become the matriarch of your tribe and you seem happy.” Sarah finished her pop and stared at the stick. “I just don’t want to fuck it up.”

  Sasha looked up at her.

  “Sorry. Mess it up.” She licked a fruity drip that was threatening to fall. “You just do your thing, don’t you? You wake up every day and do what you need to do.”

  She waited in case Sasha might decide to answer.

  “I guess that’s good advice for me. Nothing can change the past. You simply take a step forward and don’t worry about what’s behind you, huh?”

  *

  On her way home, Sarah decided to stop by Chris’s and surprise her. She imagined the look on her face, so adorable and happy. Maybe they’d just watch TV or order food online, and perhaps she’d spend the night.

  It was after dark and Chris had been off for a couple of hours. She stopped by the store to pick up some ice cream. She wasn’t sure if Chris would like Rocky Road, but didn’t everyone? Who could not love little bits of nuts and marshmallows swimming in an ocean of chocolate?

  Sarah could hear faint music inside Chris’s house and rang the doorbell. She listened for a minute but couldn’t hear much else. She rang again.

  The doorknob rattled, as if stuck, and then the door swung open.

  “I brought…” Sarah’s mouth dropped open.

  Chris wobbled and grabbed the doorframe. It seemed a struggle for her to focus. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Yup.”

  “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Chris turned around and lost her balance, catching herself by shuffling her feet as if she were a football player sidestepping a tackle. Sarah followed her inside and closed the door.

  “Chris,” Sarah said, but Chris walked into the kitchen without saying anything. What was going on? She’d never seen her drink alcohol, let alone get smashed.

  “Chris,” Sarah repeated, and stopped just inside the kitchen door when Chris bumped against the counter, turned around, and held a finger up.

  “Not a good time,” Chris said, and reached for a bottle of Scotch that sat close by. The cap was already off and it was about a third empty.

  “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on,” she said, waving the bottle as if she were underlining her words, “is a shitty end to a shitty day.”

  “What happened?”

  Chris just looked down and shook her head.

  “Chris, please.” Sarah stepped toward her.

  “It’s just fucked up.”

  “What’s fucked up?”

  Chris raised her head, and the look of pain on her face hit Sarah in the stomach. She wondered if Abel was okay, if someone had been killed, if Chris had gotten into trouble. Not knowing what had happened was excruciating.

  “A call I went on today,” Chris finally said. “I backed up a rookie officer on a DV—”

  “DV?”

  “Domestic-violence call. The man that answered the door didn’t want to let us in, but we could hear the woman behind him. She sounded okay, but Perkins, my partner, told the man he needed to check on her anyway. The man said he didn’t understand why we needed to come in, and all of a sudden, Perkins smashed the door open in the guy’s face. He charged in and tackled the guy. He shouldn’t have done that. I had Abel with me, and the whole time Perkins was punching him, I was making sure the woman wasn’t going to run into another room and get a gun or something. I mean, he went berserk on the guy for no reason, and we hadn’t even cleared the house.

  “Perkins had the guy against a couch, kicking the shit out of him. He handcuffed the guy, and I kept watching the woman while he finally cleared the house. So then, the guy was sitting on the ground in handcuffs and said something like, ‘Why’d you punch me?’ and Perkins went over and punched the guy again, screaming at him that he was gonna fuck him up even more.”

  Chris ran her hand roughly through her hair. “He can’t do that. The guy was handcuffed. Perkins is a rookie, but he knows he can’t do that.”

  “That’s what upset you?”

  Chris’s chuckle sounded miserable. “No. Sergeant Shaffer showed up. He has it in for me.”

  “Why?”

  “He was once a K9 handler and got kicked off the team. I was the next officer to get a dog, and he’s been pissed ever since. He eventually got promoted and still spends a lot of time riding my ass.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Perkins had already put the man in his squad car, so I took the woman outside and put her in Sergeant Shaffer’s car. When I walked back in, I saw Shaffer pick up a knife that was on a bookcase and walk it over to the couch where the man had been. He put it under the cushion and said to the rookie, “Well, look what we found here. That guy was going for a knife. That’s cause for you to do what you did while he was cuffed.’

  “Then he turned to me and started screaming at me about why I didn’t put Abel on the guy. He was yelling that an officer was in need of assistance and I didn’t do a damn thing.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “I finally said to him that the situation didn’t merit the extra force and left it at that.” Chris exhaled loudly, clearly distressed and still reliving each second.

  “When the sergeant left, I ripped the rookie a new one and told him he’d better tell the truth in his report because that’s what I was going to do.”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “I don’t know. All I do know is that the whole department is going to think I didn’t back my partner up.”

  “But you said you couldn’t because you were watching the woman. Jesus, Chris, that guy Perkins had tunnel vision and could have gotten shot in the head.”

  “I know.”

  “And you’re gonna get your name drug through the mud because of Sergeant Shaffer?”

  “I’ve never seen a cop do anything dirty. He planted that knife and told the rookie to lie.”

  “That’s why you started to drink?”

  Chris nodded.

  “Can you tell anyone? Someone higher in rank than the sergeant?”

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s what’s so fucked up.” Chris reached for the bottle again and took a swig.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

  “What?” Chris suddenly yelled. “Enough to erase what I saw? Not yet.”

  “Okay.” Sarah raised her hands, trying to defuse her anger.

  “No, it’s not okay! It’s supposed to be black and white. Black and fucking white!” She stopped shouting and just stared at a spot on the wall somewhere over Sarah’s left shoulder. “Right and wrong. That’s the code. We go after the wrongs. We don’t create them. Anyone who watches TV knows what a dirty cop is. I’ve just never seen one until tonight.”

  Chris was shattered by what had happened, but it shocked Sarah to see what she’d done to herself because of it.

  “It’s so fucked,” Chris said again.

  “Chris,” she said carefully, “is this why I’ve never seen you drink?”

  Another miserable laugh came from Chris, and Sarah wondered if she might start yelling again.

  “So, you’ve found my demon,” Chris said. “Yes, I drink sometimes. It’s a way to handle being perfect all the fucking time. Or, at least, it’s a way to deal with the fact that I’m not.”

  “But you didn’t do anything wrong tonight.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The department is going to lose trust in me. I’m sure the sergeant is telling everyone right now that I just stood there while Perkins needed help.”

  “But your report will explain it.”

  “I’ve had more from him than I can take. Every night, he’s on the radio talking to me like I’m some idiot or telling other officers what I did wrong on this bite call or that bite call. It’s grating me to fucking death.�
� She slid down until she was sitting on the floor and dropped her head to her knees.

  Sarah knelt down and put her arms around her. “You’re right. It is fucked. And it’s not fair.”

  “Could you just go, please?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want company right now.”

  “Chris—”

  “Please,” she said, louder this time.

  Sarah was well rehearsed at dealing with drunken parents. It was virtually a family pastime. She hated it then and really didn’t like it now.

  Chris raised her head, glaring at Sarah. “I’ve handled myself all my life. I know what I’m doing. So you can go home now.”

  “So you like drinking yourself into a stupor.”

  “If I want to, yes!” she yelled, startling Sarah. “Fuck. I don’t feel good.”

  Chris began to stand and Sarah helped her up. If she hadn’t steered her toward the bathroom, Chris wouldn’t have made it to the toilet before throwing up.

  “Please leave,” Chris said in between retches.

  Sarah got a washcloth and ran it under the faucet. She leaned against the counter until Chris was through.

  “Ughhh,” Chris finally said.

  Sarah leaned over and pulled Chris’s hair up to place the washcloth on her neck. “Do you need to throw up again?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Do you want to lie down now?”

  Chris nodded, so Sarah helped her up and took her to her room. With her shoes off and a grumble that she wanted the rest of her clothes on, Chris climbed into bed. Sarah fetched a trash can and put it on the floor next to the bed and then got a glass of water.

  “Thank you,” Chris said before she fell asleep.

  Sarah lay down next to her, and when Chris didn’t awake for a couple of hours, she got up and stood over her. Sarah felt so much for Chris and was beginning to understand her more. She didn’t like the aggression that alcohol brought out, but she knew better than anyone that nobody is completely free from transgressions. Still, this behavior was way too close to home. Her fuse had been cut short long ago.

  They needed to have a serious conversation about this, but for now, she was glad Chris was safe. She just wished she could help her with her struggles at work.

  “So, you have an Achilles’s heel like everyone else,” she said to Chris, who was snoring lightly. “That just makes you more human.”

  She kissed her on the forehead and let herself out.

  *

  Momo didn’t look that well, Sarah thought as she walked into the library Tuesday morning. She’d stopped by, glad her parents were gone, and found her grandmother sitting with a book in her hands; however, she wasn’t reading. Instead, she stared out the window as if watching something that was more interesting than the text in front of her.

  “Whatcha doing, Momo?”

  She turned and smiled at her. “Sarah, my darling. I was just thinking about your grandfather.”

  “What about him?”

  “I remember mornings with him when I would get up early to make coffee, and then he’d come out into the kitchen and tell me how wonderful his good morning smelled. He said that when he got a whiff of the coffee brewing, he knew I loved him.”

  “That’s wonderful.” She sat down on the couch. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I suppose. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “No, my darling. Just seeing you is the best medicine.”

  “And I can say the same about you.”

  “Tell me, how is your new girl?”

  “Chris? She’s great.” There was no need to tell her about the night before. She hoped Chris’s overindulgence was a one-time thing and wouldn’t affect their relationship, but every bit of experience told her it wasn’t.

  “That’s good to hear. And how are the animals?”

  Sarah didn’t have anywhere to be that day, so she happily settled in to give her an update on Sasha and the rest of the animals and people at the refuge.

  *

  Chris walked through the station, aware that any of the officers could be talking about her. She hadn’t yet heard a thing, but she was still raw from the DV call, and the jackhammering in her head reminded her of how she’d handled it.

  She didn’t know where Perkins or the sergeant was and hoped she could get out on patrol before either one of them crossed her path. She didn’t trust her actions because right then, she was so wound up, just a slight touch would surely spin her out of control.

  The cell phone in her pocket vibrated, and she pulled it out. Paige had texted her asking if she was free. She clicked over to her recent calls and punched a button.

  “Hello, Officer,” Paige said when she answered.

  “Hey yourself.” Chris walked down the hall and stepped outside. Like it always was, the parking lot was full of police cars and officers coming and going, so she went around to the side of the building.

  “Okay, what’s wrong?”

  Chris told her about the DV call.

  “Fuck,” Paige said. “That sergeant has always been an ass, but now he’s a crooked cop, too?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m waiting to see what Perkins writes in his report.”

  “Have you written yours?”

  “I started it, but I’m all fucked up about this.”

  “I would be, too. Listen, don’t let his tunnel vision or the sergeant’s lies influence you. You didn’t do anything wrong. If anything, you held back and handled the call the right way. Perkins didn’t.”

  “You know, I used to think that all I had to do was walk that thin blue line. I believed that if I always followed the rules and stayed on the right side, I’d never have any problems. But now I feel like I’ve been slimed by a shitty situation, and all I can think about is that my actions are going to be questioned.”

  “What did you do after all that happened?”

  Chris paused because she knew what Paige was asking. It didn’t happen often, but Paige had witnessed times when stress would drive her to punishing amounts of alcohol, and it had been awful. “I got shitfaced.”

  “Oh, Chris. It’s been more than three years since you’ve done that.”

  “I didn’t break anything this time. I just…yelled a little.”

  “At who?”

  Chris had pushed it out of her mind until just then. A massive ape-sized gathering of remorse crawled up her back and smothered her head. The stupid things she’d said still echoed in her ears. Her senseless behavior had fallen to an all-new low. “Sarah.”

  “You got drunk with Sarah?”

  “No, I was by myself. Sarah just showed up.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing I remember as being horrible.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  “No. And I should, but I just want to get through my shift first.”

  “Well, no matter how this plays out with the DV call, you’re in the right, and all you have to do is tell the truth.”

  “I wish it were that easy.”

  “I suppose if you and I wanted to stay away from politics in our areas of employment, we’d have to move to Ireland and sign up as sheepherders.”

  “No, thanks. You suck at camping under the stars.”

  “No, I don’t!”

  “Do I need to remind you about the trip to Lake Tahoe?”

  “I don’t like peeing anywhere that a stick could get shoved up my ass when I bend down.”

  “Driving all the way to the casinos every time you had to go to the bathroom isn’t true camping behavior.”

  “Yeah, but I made great campfire breakfasts, didn’t I?”

  “That you did.”

  “Listen, Chris, you’re a good cop. Hold your head high like you always do.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Did that help?”

  Chris lov
ed her best friend. “No.”

  *

  Sarah had just finished watching the eleven o’clock news and was turning off the television to go to bed when her doorbell rang. Cautiously, she looked through the peephole and saw Chris.

  They hadn’t spoken that day so she was glad Chris had thought to come by.

  She opened the door to the same sight as the night before. Chris teetered on her step, and her expression, drawn limp from the numbing effect of whatever alcohol she’d consumed, was also slightly vacant.

  “Hi,” Chris said.

  “Hello.”

  “Oh…” Chris wobbled as if just the raising of her eyebrows had thrown her equilibrium off. “You’re not happy to see me.”

  “I’m not happy to see you drunk.”

  “Well, that’s just great.”

  “Lower your voice, please.”

  “I just wanted to see you.”

  “And you got in your car and drove here?”

  “Of course I…I’m fine, all right?”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Okay, I’m going.”

  Sarah took her arm just as Chris tried to turn around, and they both stumbled off the step.

  “Stop, Chris. You’re not getting back in your car.”

  Chris jerked her arm away. “I can fucking drive.”

  Taking out her phone, Sarah said, “I’m calling a taxi. You can leave your car here.”

  “Oh. I’m being sent to my room, huh? I can’t even come in?”

  She spoke to a dispatch operator and gave her the address while Chris fumed and swore. “Chris,” she said when she hung up, “this is not the way to handle things.”

  “This is a fine way to handle things.”

  “Really?”

  “You know me, Sarah. I’m a good person…”

  “It doesn’t have anything to do with that. You know I hate it when people drink to excess. I’ve had too many horrible nights dealing with my parents to be happy about your binges.”

  “I’m not your parent. I don’t drink every day, Sarah.”

  “It only takes one time to crash your car.”

  “You’re mad, and I get it.”

  No, she doesn’t, Sarah thought. It disappointed and scared her that Chris drank like this. Once in a while was just as bad as a hundred times, because each time, along with the rancid smell of booze came the horrible, lost feelings from childhood. Standing there, with Chris sloshed and weaving right in front of her, made Sarah suddenly feel small again, as if she didn’t matter. She re-experienced the pain of knowing that, just as in her childhood, the booze seemed more important than she was.