Flashover

by T. Alan Codder

  “I need to get back to the office. We’re probably going to be in the news again.” He shook his head. “Shit like this comes in threes. First Locoste, now this. I wonder what’s next? I’ll get this thing with Hud set up for right after lunch to give you time to find out about the drugs. After that, go home and try to get some rest.”

  Sean snorted. “Yeah, right. Maybe the spill was the first thing and this is the end of it.”

  “Maybe. I hope so. We’ll get through this. Anyone who sees that little demonstration you put together will sympathize with Fisher.”

  “Yeah, maybe. He’s got a three-month-old baby girl at home too.”

  Rudy shook his head as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That makes his actions even more understandable.” He looked at Sean. “I’m sorry about this. If I hadn’t pushed you into patrolling Tilley, none of this would have happened.”

  “It’s nobody’s fault except for that asshole who got out of the car. If he’d listened to Fish, he wouldn’t be lying in the hospital right now.”

  After Rudy left, Sean found the number for WakeMed. It took some doing, and he got a bit of the run around, but he finally found someone to give him the information he was looking for. He asked them to email him a copy of the lab report that showed Hags had diamorphine—heroin—in his system and evidence of long term intravenous injections.

  He was as ready as he was going to be. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes again, enjoying the relief his grainy eyes felt from having them closed. When he felt sleep tugging, he sat up and forced his eyes open. He had to get moving again or he was going to drop off. He looked up Fish’s address then rose.

  “Michelle, I’m going to go check on Fish,” he said as he walked through the reception area, not slowing to hear her reply.

  Ten minutes later he pulled to a stop at the curb of Fish’s house. There were two cruisers there already.

  The Fisher home was a tidy little single story with a two-car garage in a small subdivision that was still being developed. The house was adorned with ruddy-brown brick on the front, black shutters, grass that was still filling in, and a lone, scrawny tree in the front yard.

  He stepped to the front door and gave it a soft rap. If anyone was sleeping he didn’t want to wake them. Paul Limbrose opened the door almost immediately, holding it close so his body filled the gap and blocked the view into the house.

  “Hey, Sean. Come on in,” he said, stepping back and opening the door wider.

  “Fish here?”

  “In the back. He and Emma are sleeping.”

  Sean nodded. He didn’t want to wake Fish and his daughter. He turned to Laura, Fish’s wife, who was standing there with her hands clasped and her eyes questioning.

  “How’re you holding up?” he asked.

  “Okay.” She swallowed hard, obviously steeling herself for whatever Sean was going to tell her. “Any news?”

  “Yeah. You already knew it was a clean shoot?” She nodded. “Okay, good. I showed the mayor the video this morning. Rudy said to tell you and Fish that Brunswick is behind you. I also got the report from the hospital and the victim was spaced out on heroin. Fish did the right thing.”

  Laura looked like she might cry but then recovered. “That’s good news,” she said, her voice trembling, as Paul and Derrick nodded and relaxed slightly. “He’ll want to hear that,” she said as she started to move away.

  Sean caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. Laura was young, like Fish, with short brown hair, large brown eyes, and a small nose with a faint band of freckles across the bridge. She was pixie cute, but the strain of the last few hours made her look haggard.

  “No. Let him sleep. You can tell him when he wakes up. Also tell him not to report for duty until Friday, and let him know if he needs a few days in the office, I’ve got plenty for him to do.”

  Laura pursed her lips tight. “I’ll tell him. Thank you, Sean. I was—”

  “He did the right thing,” he said, cutting her off. “Once he gets his head around it, he’ll realize it for himself. We’re going to give him time to do that, and if he needs some help, we’ll get him that too. Don’t worry, it’s going to be okay.”

  “We’ll be there for him, Laura,” Derrick said. “Fish is a good cop. He’ll bounce back.”

  Paul nodded then smiled. “I’ll see to it. I’ll drag him back out there myself if I have to. I’m not going to cover for his lazy ass forever.”

  Laura’s snicker turned into a brief sob, but then she gathered herself.

  “I can’t tell you how much the support has meant to me… to us.”

  Sean took her hand and held it. “If you need anything, anything, you call me, okay?”

  She smiled, looking like she was trying to not cry as her eyes welled with tears. “I will, but the guys have taken care of everything. You should see all the food.”

  “They’d better or I’ll kick their asses.” He looked at Paul. “When he wakes up, have him call me. I need to get his report.”

  “Will do, chief.”

  “Take care of them.”

  “We’ve got it worked out. A least one person will be here twenty-four, seven, until, I guess, Friday.”

  Sean motioned at the door with his head. The three men stepped outside.

  “I’m supposed to meet with Hudson Voiles later today to show him the video. That should put this to rest, but if it doesn’t, it may mean we lose the Tilley contract. I—”

  “Good. I never wanted to go into that shithole anyway,” Derrick said.

  Sean nodded in sympathy. “I know how you feel, but I don’t want Fish blaming himself for that either. If they kick us out, that proves they weren’t behind us in the first place and he did us a backhanded favor. When it’s over I’ll call and let you know what happens so you can keep Fish in the loop. If he asks about it before then, tell him I’m meeting with their mayor and leave it at that.”

  “You got it. This is some fucked up shit,” Paul said.

  “Yeah. You’re telling me.” Sean yawned and then gave his head a shake. “Shit! I need some coffee,” he added as he stepped off the porch.

  He sat in his office, nursing the cup, wondering if there was anything else he should, or could, do to minimize the impact of what happened. He was concerned in his slightly sleep-deprived state he was overlooking something obvious, but he finally decided the video spoke for itself.

  He realized he’d completely missed breakfast, which explained why he was feeling so lethargic, so he left for an early lunch. He was just biting into his sandwich at The Big Belly Deli when his phone rang.

  “Sean.”

  “Sean, Rudy. Hud and the Tilley city council would like to meet with you as soon as possible. Shit is really hitting the fan over there.”

  “I’m having lunch, but I can be there in thirty or forty minutes.”

  “Okay. I have him on hold. I’ll tell him to expect you between eleven-thirty and eleven-forty-five.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “Need anything from me before you go?”

  “No, but I’m giving you a heads up. I’m not throwing Fish under the bus for this.”

  “Yes, well, as messed up as this is, throwing him under the bus won’t solve anything and will probably only make it worse.”

  “It will make it worse. Not only will it appear we’re admitting he made a mistake, but it’ll also piss… upset everyone on the force, myself included. Our officers need to know we’re behind them or they might not be so willing to risk life and limb.”

  “Is that a threat?” Rudy asked, his voice cold.

  Sean sighed, biting off the smart-ass response that came to mind. “Not at all, but think about it. How willing would you be to walk into a dangerous situation knowing even if you don’t make any mistakes, even if you act to protect yourself in good faith, your employer will blame you for anything that went wrong and hang you out to dry? Don’t you think if that happens, sometimes it would seem wiser, o
r easier, to simply not notice and walk on past?”

  Rudy was quiet a moment. “Yeah, okay, I see what you’re saying.”

  Sean nodded. “Mr. Mayor, you have my word on this. If one of my guys screws up, he’s going to know it. Remember Officer Brady? If it’s a big enough screw up, I’ll bring the charges myself. But when they don’t screw up, I’m going to stand behind them, and I expect Brunswick to do the same.”

  “Okay. I’m with you, chief.”

  “Thank you, mayor. I’ll let you know how the meeting went.”

  Sean finished his lunch and returned to the station just long enough to grab his laptop. At the Tilley City Hall, he was quickly ushered into Hud’s office.

  Like Rudy’s office, Tilley’s mayor’s office was well appointed, but it wasn’t as large or opulent as Rudy’s. It was more on par with his own office.

  “Gentlemen,” Sean said as he entered.

  “Chief,” Hud said, his voice decidedly cool. “Rudy said you had something to show me. Do you mind if Greg and Vince sit in?”

  “Not at all. Shall we get to it?”

  Sean sat down in a guest chair as the three men watched over his shoulder. He first gave them Fish’s account of what happened, what information he had about Hags’ condition and the fact he was expected to live. He then gave them the results of the blood work from the hospital.

  After he finished catching them up, he performed the same routine for them he had for Rudy earlier. Unlike Rudy, Greg and Vince both committed to understanding how Lexington had been shot with the first video. The ending, while surprising them, only reinforced their opinion.

  When the second video played he didn’t stop it until Fish knelt beside Lexington.

  “What a dumb-ass!” Greg sneered when the video finished. “No wonder he was shot!”

  Vince said nothing but shook his head in disbelief.

  “Can we get a copy of that?” Hud asked.

  “Sorry. Can’t do it without a court order. State law.”

  Hud grunted. “That would put a lot of the complaints to rest, or should,” he said as he waddled around his desk and sat down, the chair groaning under his weight. “I had the man’s family in here this morning raising hell.”

  “Well, now you can tell them you’ve seen the video and he got what he deserved,” Greg said as he sat down, Vince taking a third chair.

  “I can’t tell them that!” Hud objected.

  “Why not? It’s the truth. I’m tired of pussy-footing around stuff like this. It’s part of the reason we’re in the mess we’re in. That guy got just what he was asking for.”

  “I’m with Greg on this,” Vince added. “You can dress it up however you want, but I would have shot the guy too, and so would’ve anybody else. You saw what can happen if you guess wrong. So, no sir. As far as I’m concerned, this issue has been put to bed.”

  Sean didn’t smile, but he wanted to. Maybe Tilley deserved to make it after all.

  “Thank you, gentlemen, for the support. Officer Fisher, the officer who shot Hags, is devastated by what happened. What about you, Mayor Voiles?”

  “Well, I obviously can’t come right out and say Hags got what he deserved, but yeah, I think this answers all my questions.”

  “There’s a thirty-day cancellation clause in the contract, not to mention an escape clause for something like this. Are you going to execute either?” Sean asked.

  Hud looked at Greg and Vince, both of whom were shaking their heads.

  “No, I don’t believe that will be necessary.”

  Sean closed his laptop and rose. “Thank you, gentlemen. May I communicate your statements of support to Officer Fisher?”

  The three members of the Tilley city council rose as one. “Yes, please do.”

  Twenty-Five

  “You let the mayor see the video!” Yolanda Hags yelled, her fists clinched tight with rage. “He’s my husband and I have a right to see what happened!”

  “Ms. Hags, as I said before, I’m prevented by state law from releasing the video to you. You can stand there and yell all you want, but it doesn’t change anything. If it were up to me, I’d be happy to let you see the video, but it’s not up to me. Get a court order and I’ll let you watch it as many times as you like,” Sean explained, choking back his anger and annoyance, and forcing his voice to be calm and pleasant.

  It’d been four days since Fish shot Lexington. The people from PISTOL were in the office conducting training, and he really didn’t have time for this.

  “Why can the mayor see it and I can’t?”

  “Official business.”

  “This is bullshit! Your fucking cop shot my husband. He wasn’t doing nothin’ and he needed that gun for his protection. I think you’re hiding something! How are we going to pay the medical bills? I’m going to sue you, I’m going to sue the officer who shot Lex, and I’m going to sue Tilley and Brunswick.”

  “That’s your right, but I’m not letting you see the video without a court order.”

  “You fucking cops are all alike! You’re always—”

  “May I remind you, Mrs. Hags,” Sean said loudly, talking over her, “when your husband is released from the hospital, he’s going to be charged with drug possession, driving under the influence, and carrying a concealed weapon without a permit. Your husband has been arrested three times before on drug related charges. This is going to be his fourth arrest on drug charges, so he’ll be hit with the habitual felon statutes. He’s not the boy scout you’re trying to make him out to be. Now, if you have nothing else to say, we’re done here. Get a court order and I’ll let you see video. Sue if you think you’ve got a case, but I think your time would be better spent preparing for the fact your husband is probably going to spend some time as a guest of the North Carolina Department of Corrections.”

  Yolanda, a woman who had probably been attractive once but had been worn down by a hard life, glared at him.

  “You fucking white cops, always giving it to the black man, aren’t you?” she sneered.

  “Mr. Hags’ actions, not the color of his skin, are the reason this happened. Your own mayor issued a statement supporting the officer. The only person who thinks this a race issue is you.”

  “Fuck you and fuck Mayor Voiles! He don’t give no shit about nobody but himself, spending our money to help white men buy up our town! And now this! This ain’t right!”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do,” Sean said as he indicated the exit.

  Yolanda stormed out of the lobby, slamming the door open as she did.

  “Well, that was pleasant,” Terri said from behind the glass.

  Sean shook his head, his lips thinned, still seething. “Yeah. I can remember when I thought I wanted this job.”

  Yolanda had been raising hell since the incident, using the now standard playbook of race baiting and making her husband out to be a good, decent, hardworking family man who was gunned down by an overzealous cop. She’d had a brief moment in the spotlight when Raleigh station WRAL gave the story thirty seconds of air time, along with a brief clip of her lamenting the actions of the Brunswick Police Department, on their evening news.

  Somehow, the fact Lex was a three-time loser on drug charges, was a habitual heroin user and was doped to the gills at the time of his shooting, that an illegal weapon and drugs were found in his car, not to mention he hadn’t obeyed Fish’s verbal instructions to remain in the car, didn’t come up. Because of her actions, he was rapidly losing any sympathy for Lexington’s plight.

  While in town, the news crew had paid him a visit for comment. He had nothing to say other than ‘the officer acted in accordance with department guidelines’ and ‘the officer would not be facing disciplinary action.’ Now the story was largely being forgotten.

  Fish had returned to duty, but he was working in the station until the end of the week. Sean had planned to be the resource to help his officers along as they learned PISTOL, but he’d assign
ed the role to Fish.

  Because of that, Fish was sitting in on all the training sessions and keying in case files, learning as he went and using his new knowledge to ask additional questions during training. He really needed Fish back out on the streets, but he wasn’t going to push him, and having a second ‘expert’ for the new software wasn’t a bad thing.

  His officer was trying to present a strong face, but Sean could tell he was still brooding over the shooting and the accusations of Yolanda. Sometimes he would notice Fish sitting dead still at his laptop, staring into space. He said nothing. Fish might be in the office, but he knew when he was like that, his mind was back out on the street that night.

  He’d offered to get Fish some counseling but Fish had waved it off, claiming he was ready to return to active duty. The excuse of needing another PISTOL expert was the perfect justification to keep him in the office for a few more days to give him that much more time to adjust. It also gave him a chance to mix with all his fellow officers.

  That was doing him more good than anything. The entire department had rallied to Fish’s side and stood shoulder to shoulder with him in support. It was beginning to work. Time, and the unwavering support of his fellow officers, was slowly banishing the sadness he’d carried so clearly on his face.

  That’s what pissed Sean off more than anything else, how Yolanda’s remarks were affecting Fish. She was trying to paint him as a loose cannon, a cop with an attitude. She didn’t outright accuse him of racism, but the implication was there. The fact his fellow officers were at his side, consistently reinforcing the idea they would have done the same, and that Yolanda Hags was, as Paul called her, a ‘whack-a-doodle,’ blunted much of her remarks.

  Two days ago, Hudson had issued a statement in support of Fish. Other than the one story on the evening news, despite her attempts to stir up trouble, she was being ignored by the public. Her visit to the station was probably one of her last-ditch attempts to keep the story in the news.

  Taking a deep breath to let go of his annoyance, Sean had Terri buzz him into the station. He stepped into the conference room for a moment, standing at the back and listening to the lecture as the woman explained how the software could link related cases.