by T. R. Cupak
“Since when do we….”
“Shh,” the taller officer hushes. “What precinct is she with?”
“I don’t know,” I return. “Does it matter?”
“Yeah, it matters," the shorter officer sates. “What's her name?”
“Uh,” I stutter. “I…I don’t want her to know."
"We won’t tell," the taller officer claims. “We can make sure she gets dispatched when you call again.”
“Is it Jenkins?” the shorter officer pries.
“No,” I reply.
“She’s pretty but married,” the taller officer states. “Maybe Zimmerman?”
“No,” I confirm.
“Oh, what about Roman?” the short officer checks.
“No,” I return. “How many female officers are there?”
“In the city or just our precinct?” the taller officer asks.
“Never mind,” I huff.
“If she’s in ours department, we’ll be able to figure it out quickly,” the shorter officer states. “The only way we might know of any officer from a different precinct is if we’ve met her or heard of her.”
“Heard of her?” I inspect.
“Yeah,” the shorter officer chuckles. “We all share stories of the shit that happens to us over the years, comparing stories from the streets.”
My mouth opens to comment, or perhaps to question his statement, but I think better of it. We could be here all night if they start sharing stories and then I’ll never get Saige over here.
“Oh, how about Bachman?” the shorter one searches.
“She’s too old for this guy,” the taller officer laughs.
“McCullin,” I blurt. “Officer Saige McCullin.”
“McCullin,” they say at the same time. They pause and look around.
“The name doesn’t ring a bell,” the taller officer says regretfully. “Do you know her nickname?”
“Nickname?” I repeat.
“Yeah,” the shorter officer chuckles. “We’ve all got them. We know most officers from different precincts by their nicknames rather than their full names.”
“Some can have the same last name too,” the taller officer adds. “But, it’s less common with female officers.”
“I don’t know her nickname,” I inform him.
“Where have you seen her before?” the shorter officer searches.
“A deli over by Bryant Park,” I share.
“Ah, man,” the taller officer sighs. “She wouldn’t get called for something up here by Central Park. She’s with one of the Midtown precincts.”
“Was she in uniform when you saw her?” the shorter officer inquires.
“Yeah,” I affirm.
“Could have been heading toward work,” the shorter officer surmises. “Or, heading home. t’s tricky to tell.”
“There are seventy-seven precincts in the whole city,” the taller officers informs. “And, over thirty thousand patrol officers alone.”
“Fuck,” I huff.
“Why didn’t you just talk to her when you saw her at the deli?” the shorter officer inquires.
“Oh, well, I wasn’t able to get close enough when I did see her,” I mutter. “I will next time.”
Smiles smear across their face.
“You were scared?” the taller officer guesses accurately.
“No,” I lie.
“You’re good-looking,” the shorter officer states.
I stare at him blankly for a long moment.
“What?” he asks, looking at me and then his partner. “He ain’t bad on the eyes from what I would deduce from what all the female cops say about men. Plus, he’s got money. I’m sure she’d give you the time of day if you just talk to her.”
“I’m seriously questioning you being my partner right now,” the taller officer says with a blank face.
“What?” the shorter officer quips.
“That’s my cue to go,” the taller officer announces.
“What?” the shorter officer repeats, following after his partner.
“Good luck,” the taller officer bids. “If we find out who she is, we’ll be back.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
“Come on, Weiss,” the shorter officer calls.
Officer Weiss continues to walk toward the elevator, not bothering to look at his partner after pressing the button.
“Have a great night, officers,” I bid.
“Thanks,” the shorter officer replies.
Officer Weiss raises his hand in acknowledgment.
“Come on, Weiss,” the other officer begs as I close the door.
Chapter Five
Officer Saige McCullin
“Why the hell do I have to go to this thing?” I whine, though I vaguely remember agreeing to it two days ago. “It’s my only day off this whole week.”
“Language,” Crystal chides.
“She didn’t hear me,” I quip.
“They hear everything,” Crystal claims.
I shrug.
“You’re going because you’re my sister.”
“That’s not a good enough of a reason,” I quip.
“Because, you love me,” she adds.
“Debatable on most days,” I return.
“It’ll look good for the commissioner to see you there too,” Crystal persuades.
“So, if I agree to go, I can wear my uniform?” I check.
“No,” she counters. “You’re not working tonight, so you can’t wear it.”
“But, the commissioner and the other officers will be….”
“They’re going to represent the NYPD,” she reminds me. “You are going as an aide since I’m down two social workers due to illness.”
“I didn't say I’m going,” I say.
Crystal glares at me before looking to her daughter. “Millie?”
“Yeah?” Millie replies as she kicks her feet off the edge of the bed.
“Wouldn’t it be fun to have Auntie Saige come with us to the party?” Crystal asks.
“Don’t bring her into….”
“Yay!” Millie cheers.
“No,” I counter.
“Why not?” Millie asks innocently. “Don’t you love us?”
“Low blow,” I warn, looking at my sister.
Crystal shrugs with a pleased grin.
“Santa’s going to be there,” Millie states excitedly.
I snicker, remembering how many Santa’s I’ve had to deal with in the past week.
“What’s funny?” Millie checks.
“Nothing,” I huff. I glower at Crystal. “Fine…I’ll go.”
“Great,” Crystal cheers. “You can wear this!” She shoves a red evening gown in my direction.
“No,” I object.
“What? You’ll look pretty! Won’t she, Millie?”
“Yay!” Millie shouts.
“I’m wearing a pantsuit,” I negate.
“Like hell you are,” she disputes.
“Language,” I reprimand.
“Mommy said hell,” Millie states.
Crystal gives me the stink-eye because she got caught instead of me. “It’s Auntie Saige’s fault.”
I grab a handful of popcorn from Millie’s big bowl and hurl the pieces at my sister.
“Mature,” Crystal huffs.
Millie laughs and throws a handful at her mom.
“Millie,” Crystal scolds.
“Auntie Saige did it first,” Millie defends.
I snicker, trying to hide my face from Millie.
“Just because an adult does something doesn’t mean you should too,” Crystal corrects.
“But….”
“She said butt,” I goad.
“Not helping,” Crystal sighs dramatically.
I take a handful of popcorn and pretend to throw it. Crystal ducks as I stuff it in my mouth which causes Millie to giggle.
“Stop giving her ideas,” Crystal whines.
I wink at Millie.
“G
o put this on,” Crystal commands, shoving the dress at me. “But, take a shower first.”
“It’s my day off,” I remind her.
“And, you have yet to really do anything today,” Crystal counters.
“Hence, my day off,” I say snidely.
“I know I’ve asked a lot from you, Saige,” Crystal admits in a melancholy tone. “It means the world to me that you moved here for me when….”
“Stop,” I interrupt. “Give me the fu…dang dress.”
“I’m sorry,” Crystal says, backpedaling.
“Don’t,” I instruct. “I know what you mean and I’ll go. Give me fifteen minutes.”
“We need to talk about it sometime….”
“No, we don’t,” I interject. “I’m going. We’ll have a fun time.”
“Take twenty-five minutes,” she suggests.
“I’m not that bad once I shower,” I rebut playfully.
“It’s a big event,” she says.
I shrug. “So?”
“Eight hundred dollars a plate,” she reveals.
My throat tightens.
“We were given a few tables,” she adds. “Since the event is for the kids.”
“I’ll do my best tonight for you,” I reply.
“Thanks.” Crystal turns and sets her sights on Millie. “Time for you to clean up as well.”
“Noooooo,” Millie complains.
I turn and head toward my room, laughing to myself at the noises coming from my sister’s room as she tries to round up my niece. My heart softens, knowing that despite the fact that I’m not in California, I’m with my family, helping them through a tough time. My sister and Millie are the only two reasons I’d be willing to uproot myself from a great apartment and even better job.
As we climb the steps to the large building, my body shivers from the cold air. Even with a long peacoat on, the winter weather knows how to make me an instant icicle. I follow quietly as Crystal greets everyone she sees. Millie’s holding our hands as we’re ushered into a foyer that is warmer than I’d expect. Someone takes our coats, offering tickets for pickup later. By the decor of the entryway, I can only imagine that the main part of the building is even more decadent. Not a single thing is out of place. It looks as if every inch of the interior is cleaned with a toothbrush daily. The lighting is low but vibrant. There are event signs and holiday decorations all around. I’m shocked to see a set of steps leading down into the main room which appears to be the size of a football field.
“Here we are,” Crystal says, pulling my attention from our surroundings.
“Hello,” a woman greets as she stretches out her hand toward me.
“Hi,” I reply.
“This is my sister, Saige,” Crystal says, introducing me. “She’s taking Christine’s place.”
“Wonderful,” the woman sings. “My name is Betty, and my sister, Nancy, who’s assisting one of the children in the restroom, is taking Jared’s place.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Betty,” I say.
“Likewise,” she returns.
It doesn’t take long to get settled at the table. As everyone else joins us at the table, Crystal makes further introductions.
At some point, I tell Crystal, “I’m going to go say hi to the commissioner.”
“Sure thing,” she replies.
When I’m a few feet away from the table, a waiter passes by and offers a drink from the tray he’s carrying. I take one and offer appreciation. With a large gulp, I finish half of the bubbly liquid, needing the courage to face some of my co-workers in an outfit I wouldn’t normally wear.
“Good evening, Commissioner,” I say as I approach.
His head tilts to the side.
“Officer Saige McCullin,” I introduce. “Transplant from Beverly Hills to Precinct 17, ten months ago.”
“Hollywood,” an officer says to my right.
I turn and find Officer Marc Donovan, offering a forced smile.
“Sorry,” Donovan chuckles.
“This is Hollywood?” the Commissioner questions. He looks me up and down. “I can see why. You look more Hollywood than NYPD right now.”
“I’m not on duty or here representing the department,” I say. “My sister, Crystal, is one of the social workers with the children who are being honored tonight, sir.”
“Ah,” the Commissioner huffs. “Well, come meet the squad.”
The Commissioner rounds the table, making introductions to each of the officers present. The officers representing the department are all male and several of them have a spouse in attendance.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Officer Torres says.
“McCullin,” I return. “Patrol Officer McCullin.”
He looks me up and down. “Officer Saige McCullin?”
“Yes,” I confirm curiously. How does he know my first name?
“Also known as Hollywood,” Donovan adds.
“Hollywood,” Officer Torres repeats. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Well,” I huff. “I just wanted to say hello before tonight began. I need….”
“Wait,” Officer Torres says. “There’s someone you needs to meet.”
I look around the table, noting all of the faces and names. “I think I met everyone,” I counter politely.
“No,” he chuckles. “Not an officer.”
I lift a questioning brow.
“Don’t let her leave,” Torres directs. “I’ll be right back.” He scurries off faster than I anticipated.
“I’ll come back….”
“Nope,” Donovan interrupts. “You’re waiting.”
I take a deep breath. “Unless this means I can stop being called Hollywood, I’m leaving.”
“Come on,” Donovan coaxes. “It’s a fun name.”
“I’m not from Hollywood,” I remind him.
“Close enough,” he counters.
“Beverly Hills,” the Commissioner corrects.
“Right,” I affirm.
“It’s still better than Porky,” Donovan mentions.
“Porky?” I ask regrettably.
“Yeah,” he snickers.
“Oh, god,” the Chief laughs. “Poor Officer Kelsey will never live that down.”
“As in the movie?” I question hesitantly.
“Yes!” Donovan confirms.
“You guys use more Hollywood references than I do,” I declare.
“Here he is,” a voice booms. “Or, here she is depending on which one of you I’m talking to.”
My gaze shifts from Officer Torres to a well-dressed man standing to his right. He’s good-looking and has a familiar face adorned with an odd expression. I can’t quite make out why I need to be introduced to him.
“I was wondering if we’d be able to meet our gracious host before the event started,” the Chief states happily.
“Well, I’ll see you boys later….”
“Actually, he’s here to meet you,” Officer Torres reveals. “No offense, Chief.”
“Me?” I scoff timidly. “Why? I’m not the…or anyone….” My voice trails as my throat tightens suddenly.
Then it hits me harder than I expect. I recognize the man’s face. I’ve seen him on several occasions. The first time was the most memorable and the other two times were in passing and I hadn’t noticed it was him until now. All I want to do is flee the room after begging the Commissioner to not fire me. I don’t forget faces. It might take me a moment to recollect how I know a face, but I know it’s him.
“Officer McCullin…” Officer Torres begins.
“Hollywood,” Officer Donovan adds.
“Meet Mr. Phineas Wilder,” Officer Torres continues.
“Phin,” Phineas Wilder corrects as he reaches out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Officer Saige McCullin…properly this time.”
“This time?” the Commissioner questions.
My mouth opens, but not a single sound comes out.
Phin offers a polite
smile before returning his attention to me. “What brings you here tonight?” he inquires. “Your name wasn’t on the list.”
“Busted,” Officer Donovan laughs.
“I’m here helping my sister,” I share, clearing my throat. I point over my shoulder, but keep my eyes on Phin.
Phin glances past me for a second. “Well, not finding you in uniform makes sense,” he teases lightly. “Who is your sister?”
“She’s one of the social workers,” I reply. “She’s with….”
“With the children,” Phin says excitedly. “Our main guests of honor.”
“Yes,” I confirm with a cough. I chug the rest of my drink.
“Where are my manners?” Phin gasps. “You need a drink.”
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“How do you two know each other?” the Commissioner inspects.
Phin chuckles. “It’s an interesting story,” he shares. “One for perhaps another night.”
“Right,” the Commissioner agrees. “You’re a busy man. The party and the fundraising must take precedence.”
“Correct,” Phin replies.
“Well,” I mumble. “I better be getting….”
“Hollywood,” the Commissioner chides gently. “Don’t be rude to our host.”
“Why do they keep calling you Hollywood?” Phin searches.
“It’s nothing,” I say, brushing it off.
“It’s not a bad nickname,” Officer Donovan defends.
“He’s busy,” I remind Donovan sternly.
“Mr. Wilder?” the Commissioner calls.
“Yes, sir,” Phin replies.
“Is there anything we can do to assist tonight?” the Chief offers.
“How about an auction?” Officer Torres suggests.
“An auction?” the Commissioner checks.
“Yeah,” Officer Torres affirms. “Don’t many of these things have different kinds of auctions to raise funds from everyone in attendance?”
“Great idea, Officer Torres,” the Chief praises.
“We have a silent auction out in the lobby,” Phin shares. “Did you have something else in mind?”
“We could auction off dates with some of New York’s Finest. Well, those who are here tonight and single,” the Chief declares.
Pressure suddenly crushes my chest as I pray to un-hear what was just said.
“Most of us are married,” Officer Torres says, gesturing to the table.