They played and Lilly was first to Candy Castle. "I win," she said.
"Nice victory," Jerrod said. "I'll practice and see if I can get better."
"Anyone want to walk down to the beach?" Nikki asked from the sofa.
The sky was clear and the afternoon unseasonably warm as the four walked together toward the Willowmere Beach and Wharf. The girls ran ahead while they pushed and tripped each other, but no one got hurt.
"What a lovely family," an elderly lady said as they passed her on the sidewalk.
"'Lovely family,'" Nikki repeated.
Jerrod smiled at her. His hand touched hers as they walked and she held onto it.
Jerrod and Nikki sat on a bench and watched as the girls chased sea gulls and dug in the sand.
"Run free, my little darlings," Nikki said quietly. "Run free until you can't run anymore."
"Want them to burn off all their energy?"
"Exactly."
"This is nice," he said as he tilted his head back and took in more of the suns warmth.
"Yes. It is."
"Want to stay for dinner?" Nikki asked when they got back to the condo. "I can make spaghetti or something."
"Sure," he said.
"Want a beer?
"Okay.
"'Fridge. Help yourself."
Jerrod opened a Heineken. "My favorite... how thoughtful."
"Left over from the party."
"Jerrod?" Lilly asked as they sat at the dinner table together. "Does your hand hurt?"
He looked at the scar on the back of his right hand. "Not anymore."
"How did you hurt it?" she asked
"Scuba diving in Hawaii," he said. "I reached for this very pretty starfish and a big eel popped out and bit my hand. It was very scary."
"A big eel?" Marty asked. Eyes big.
"That's right. But it wasn't the eel's fault – I should have kept my hand away from him."
"I'm never going scuba diving,” Lilly said.
"Time for bed, girls," Nikki said. "School-day tomorrow."
"I don't go to school, Mom," Marty said.
"Daycare-day tomorrow for you."
"Okay, Mom," the girls said as they headed for their room.
"I had fun, ladies," Jerrod said.
Lilly turned and smiled.
"Me too," Marty said.
"Hear that?" Nikki asked as they sat together on the sofa.
"Hear what?"
"That. Silence. The girls are asleep... and probably having nightmares about eels.”
Jerrod chuckled.
“I didn't know you scuba dived... and I thought you hurt your hand at work."
"I don't scuba... and I've never been to Hawaii. I think the real story would have been a little too graphic for the girls. I'll tell you about it... some other time."
"So, you just make stuff up on the whim when you don't want to give a straight answer."
"That doesn’t sound like a very good character trait, but yeah... I guess so."
She moved closer to him on the sofa.
"This sofa is where we first kissed," he said.
"That was nice."
"It was."
"Did you happen to at least bring a toothbrush this time?"
"I believe I did. I brought a few things. They're in the truck."
"Go get 'em... I'll meet you upstairs."
CHAPTER 54
Three Years Later -- November 7, 1990 --
Mesa SO Investigations
"Sergeant Gold," Jerrod answered his desk phone.
"Jerrod. Mama's gone," the tearful voice of Natalie Segura said. "She didn't wake up this morning. She's with my dad in heaven now."
"I'm so sorry, Nat. Is there anything I can do?"
"I'd like you to come to the mass and funeral."
"I'll be there."
"I'm taking Kyle back to San Diego after...," she paused, "this may be the last time..."
"I understand. See you there."
"See you there," she said before hanging up.
"I'll always love you, Nat," he said into the mouthpiece of the disconnected phone. "I had my chance and blew it. I'll always love you."
CHAPTER 55
November 29, 1990 -- Thursday Morning Meeting
"There's a lot of rumors flying around about the promotions," Sergeant Brent Rozman said to Lieutenant Eric Blanchard.
"I can neither confirm, nor deny, any of those rumors," the lieutenant said.
"Hey, that's one of my lines," FBI SA Romero Diaz said.
The lieutenant said, "As the sheriff typically handles things, all of the promotions and transfers will be posted tomorrow -- always on a Friday at the start of the day. All mysteries will be solved and all questions answered at that point."
Friday Morning
Jerrod arrived at Investigations a few minutes after eight. He saw a group crowded around the bulletin board and correctly assumed the office promotions and transfers had just been posted.
He joined the crowd and scanned the posted memo:
PROMOTIONS:
Lt. Eric Blanchard – Operations Bureau, Investigations Division to Chief Deputy, Administration Bureau.
Sgt. Benjamin Zaff – Operations Bureau, Investigations Division
to Lieutenant, Operations Bureau, Patrol Division.
TRANSFERS:
Lt. Mitchell T. Sullivan – Administration Bureau, Personnel and Training Division to Operations Bureau, Investigations Division.
Sgt. Darrell Regner – Detention Bureau, Main Jail Division to
Operations Bureau, Investigations Division.
Jerrod went to Ben Zaff's office and congratulated him on his promotion.
Ben said, "I'm going to really miss working down here, but Patrol sounds like a nice place to go... especially as a lieutenant."
"Maybe you can get back to Investigations in a couple years and run this whole operation yourself."
"That would be sweet."
"Got a sec, L-T?" Jerrod asked Lieutenant Eric Blanchard.
"Sure. Come on in."
Jerrod sat in his usual seat. "Just wanted to congratulate you on your promotion, sir."
"Thank you."
"I'll be honest, part of me didn't want you to get the job... I hope you understand what I'm saying. Working here... particularly for you... has been the best job I've ever had."
The lieutenant laughed. "Yeah, thanks. I think I understand."
"Was it a tough decision?"
"The sheriff interviewed all the lieutenants last week. He called me in on Tuesday to offer me the position. I'm honestly underwhelmed at the idea of running Administration, but the sheriff wanted the current Admin Chief to run Operations."
"At least in Admin," Jerrod said, "the chances of you getting late-night calls for some fresh crisis... in Records... are minimal."
"This is very true."
"So, your replacement," Jerrod said, "Mitchell T. Sullivan. I've never worked for him. Anything I should know?"
The lieutenant thought for a few seconds. "Mitchell – and it's 'Mitchell,' not 'Mitch' -- is a pretty good guy. He's the son of a highly-decorated retired US Army general and his family moved a lot before settling here in Mesa. Mitchell's father and Sheriff Osborn are very close friends.
"I didn't know that," Jerrod said.
"Mitchell is educated and extremely intelligent, but is also a little misunderstood. I'll warn you -- he's eager to move up and he tends to play things, shall we say, 'by the book.' His command style is going be a little different than mine."
"I'm sure we'll all adapt."
"I have no doubt you will."
CHAPTER 56
December 12, 1990
Jerrod's desk phone rang.
"This is Donny Jelinski," the voice on the receiver said.
"Hello Donny. How've you been?"
"Why are you fucking up my dad's life insurance claim?"
"I'm afraid I don't know what your talking about."
"The insurance com
pany," Donny said. "They won't pay me for the claim until I'm cleared as a suspect in the case... or whatever."
"I spoke to the insurance company investigator," Jerrod said. "So, lets 'clear you as a suspect.' You no-showed for two polygraphs I set up."
"Well, I just got out of the hospital and...."
"I'm sure you have plenty of excuses," Jerrod said. "Would you like me to set up another test?"
"I don't know," he said. "I just want to get paid the money. I have bills and I can't work."
"How does Thursday sound, Donny? Ten o'clock? I can pick you up and we can do the exam right at the VVPD. I'll make it as easy as I can for you."
"Thursday?" Donny paused. "I have something going on Thursday."
"Suit yourself, Donny... or whatever."
December 14, 1990 -- Friday Morning
"Going to my retirement dinner tomorrow night?" Chief Deputy Eugene Luttrell asked Jerrod as he packed some personal items into a cardboard box.
"Wouldn't miss it, sir," Jerrod said.
"It should be fun."
"So what exactly does a man who worked for over thirty years in one place do when he retires?"
The chief sat down. "I've actually put a lot of thought into that. I decided I simply didn't want to wake up on the Monday morning after my last day and not have anything to do. So, next Monday morning, my wife and I are getting on a plane, flying to Honolulu and spending two weeks in Oahu."
"That sounds great."
"After that we're going to take our motorhome and hit the road. We'll head south, I think, or maybe east. We'll see. Regardless, we're going somewhere warmer than Mesa County for the winter, for sure."
"I'm jealous. I think there's a 'Mesa' in Arizona.
"Then I plan on visiting there." The chief tossed a file folder in the box. "You've still got a few years to go until you 'pull-the-pin,' but you can always start planning now."
"I will, Chief. Congratulations and I'll see you tomorrow night."
The chief smiled and added, "Even though I'm leaving; you still owe 'jail time.'"
Friday Afternoon
All of the Investigations personnel gathered in the lieutenant's office to have a piece of cake and celebrate Eric Blanchard and Ben Zaff's promotions and their final day in Investigations.
Brent Rozman said to the lieutenant, "I pretty sure I've never seen the entire top of your desk before."
The lieutenant first glanced at two banker's boxes overflowing with files and papers sitting next to him on the floor. He put his plate of cake down on the center of the desk and pushed his hands across the width of the desktop. With a smile, he said, "Come to think of it... neither have I."
The gentle laughter and small-talk in the office hushed as a tall man with rangy arms walked into the room.
His short brown hair was neatly cropped and his clean-shaven face was pleasant, but serious. He wore a fitted black double-breasted suit with a narrow blue tie over a starched white dress shirt.
The very soon-to-be Chief Deputy Blanchard got up form his desk and the crowd stepped aside as he walked to meet the man. He extended his right hand and the man shook it. "Lieutenant," Eric Blanchard said, "let me introduce you to the people in your new command."
"Thank you," Lieutenant Mitchell T. Sullivan said as he scanned each face in the room and grinned. "I am looking forward to the challenges of this new assignment."
"Would you like a piece of cake, sir?" Linda asked the new lieutenant as she cut out a fresh square.
"Pass. I need to watch my weight," the pencil-thin man said.
No one laughed.
"Since everyone appears to be here now," Lieutenant Sullivan said. "We will all meet back in this office on Monday morning at eight o'clock sharp. No exceptions. Have a nice weekend."
He smiled and walked out of the room.
Brent Rozman whispered to Jerrod, "I'm pretty sure our professional lives, as we currently know them, are about to change -- significantly."
CHAPTER 57
December 17, 1990 -- Monday Morning Meeting –
Mesa SO Investigations Division
At precisely 8 AM, the he began the meeting.
"Thank you all for arriving promptly," Mitchell T. Sullivan said from behind the desk in the lieutenant's office.
He wore his dark blue suit jacket as he spoke. No stacks of files cluttered the desk. A telephone was the only item that would ever permanently rest on it.
All Investigations personnel crowded into the available chairs.
The newest detective sergeant, Darrell Regner -- thirty-five, average height and build, but with an over-sized square head -- was seated in Ted Lindsey's usual seat at the table. Sergeant Regner had made the same mistake Jerrod had made and wore a suit and tie to his first day in Investigations.
The lieutenant continued, "I would like to transition the command of this Division with as little disruption as possible. But...," he paused for a few moments to look at the faces in the room, "I am not Eric Blanchard and have no intentions of trying to emulate either him or his command style."
A few heads nodded, but no one spoke.
"I will be examining each and every part of this Division to increase it's efficiency and effectiveness. In fact, my graduate thesis in Public Administration was based on the optimum management of a group of investigators and their support staff."
Jerrod watched Linda as she quietly put her pen down on her steno pad. She crossed her arms as the term "support staff" sunk in.
"I will be meeting with each of you this week, individually, to discuss your job duties. I welcome your suggestions on how we can make this Division run better."
"Lieutenant," Brent Rozman said, "With all due respect, this group already runs well. We haven't closed a major case without an arrest in the two-plus years I've been here--."
"Sergeant," the lieutenant interrupted, "Thank you. I trust that to be true. But we will meet individually to discuss what has, or has not, worked in the past."
Jerrod watched Brent's thick neck turn a subtle shade of crimson above his white open-collar polo shirt.
The lieutenant added, "We will meet here in this office each work day at eight o'clock. Only those of you who are out on an active investigation will be excused. If you anticipate you will either miss or be late for roll call, you must call my direct line and leave a message if I'm not at my desk."
Heads nodded as he looked around the room.
"Except for Sergeant Regner, I am not much impressed with the dress code down here." He glanced at Brent. "Starting tomorrow, all detective personnel will wear either a suit, or sport coat and slacks, with a tie to work each day. The only exception will be the CSU and Coroner's Sections who can continue wearing casual clothes due to the nature of your assignments."
Jerrod's chair creaked as he crossed his legs under the table. Darrell Regner looked at him across the table and they locked eyes for a few seconds.
"Are there any questions?" the lieutenant asked.
Silence.
"Okay. Thank you, all, for your attention. Everyone to work."
The group stood and quietly headed for the door. Brent placed his hands at the small of his back and stretched.
The lieutenant said, "Sergeant Rozman. Please stay behind."
Brent sat back down. Jerrod walked to the doorway and heard the lieutenant's voice behind him: "Sergeant Gold. Please close the door when you leave."
* * *
"We've never really met before," Jerrod said to Darrell Regner as he walked toward the desk formerly occupied by Ben Zaff.
"I don't believe we have," he said as he stood and they shook hands.
"Welcome to Investigations," Jerrod said.
"Thanks. Glad to get out of the Main Jail and back on a dayshift for a while."
Jerrod studied the man as he spoke. "You've been in Investigations before, I understand," Jerrod said.
"I was here when I got promoted. Took the typical path -- Patrol for six-months and then to the '
slammer.'"
Jerrod nodded.
"How come you didn't have to rotate through the jail... like everyone else?" Regner asked.
"Not sure," Jerrod said. "I look forward to working with you."
"Same here," the sergeant said... but with an unsettling tone.
Jerrod had just walked from the office into the hallway and was reasonably sure he heard Darrell Regner say under his breath: "Golden Boy."
CHAPTER 58
Wednesday Morning
"Just what is your current function in Investigations?" Lieutenant Mitchell Sullivan asked Jerrod to start their first face-to-face meeting.
Jerrod sat in his usual seat and the lieutenant behind his desk. Jacket on. Notepad ready. Office door closed. "What does a 'staff sergeant' do exactly."
"I put together a list of the things I currently handle," Jerrod said as he slid a one-page list across the empty desktop.
The lieutenant read the list of over twenty items out loud, "Search warrant preparation, major case assistance, DAO liaison, career criminal investigation, asset seizure fund distribution, daily crime report review and assignment case, intelligence gathering,...."
"You have no subordinates?"
"Correct."
"No caseload?"
"Not in the usual sense," Jerrod said. "I help with all the major cases, but this position was set up to handle all the miscellaneous stuff so the two other sergeants are free to run their cases without distraction. I only have one open major case assigned to me."
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