Suddenly she felt tired. She put the pictures back inside the envelope, stood up and stretched, raising her arms over her head. Monet picked up the letter and put it in her robe pocket. Turning off the light, she walked downstairs, went into the kitchen, and left the picture of her father on the counter, where Marcus would see it when he left for work the next morning.
She went upstairs and to bed. When she fell asleep, visions of her father’s face in the picture occupied her dreams.
At seven thirty the following morning, Marcus sat up in the sofa bed and his body ached. His joints told him that he was too old to sleep on the thin mattress of the sofa bed, but he had made his bed and now he had to lie in it. The bathroom in the basement had a shower, so Marcus went in there to bathe.
Thirty minutes later he had shaved and dressed. He converted the bed back to a sofa and then went upstairs to make coffee. Marcus went out the front door to get the newspaper, and went back into the kitchen. He sat at the table drinking his coffee and scanning the newspaper.
After he read the sports section, he closed the newspaper, stood up, and put his cup in the sink. He went back downstairs and picked up his wallet from off the cocktail table, stuffed it inside his pocket, and put on his watch. Then he returned to the kitchen, took his black leather jacket off the coat hook, along with his leather cap. He was walking out the door when he looked at the counter and saw the picture of Monet’s dad. He picked it up and stared at it for a few minutes. Marcus thought, Well, now, I know who Monet got that widow’s peak from. Then he put the picture inside his black leather briefcase and headed off to work.
Usually he and Wade rotated driving to work together. Their relationship had become strained as Monet’s pregnancy advanced. Marcus sensed Wade’s disapproval of how he was handling the situation. This would have been Marcus’s week to pick up his partner and drive to work. After the two couldn’t come to a meeting of the minds, they began traveling to work in separate cars.
Marcus clipped his Bluetooth device on the side of his ear after he got in his car. He pressed the remote for the garage to open and started the car. As he was driving, his cell phone rang. His foot pressed the brakes as he stopped for a red light.
Marcus saw Reverend Wilcox’s name on the caller ID unit. “Hello,” he greeted her.
“Marcus, how are you feeling today?” she asked. She was at the Temple and had just finished her morning meditation.
“Good.” Marcus fought hard to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
“That’s great,” Reverend Wilcox said cheerfully. “How is Monet feeling?”
“She’s doing well,” Marcus answered. His manners kicked in. “How are you doing, Reverend Wilcox?” He scowled out of his rearview mirror as a green Hyundai Elantra pulled up too close to his bumper.
“I’m doing just fine. I know you’re wondering why I’m calling you,” she ventured in a more serious tone of voice.
“A couple of topics come to mind,” Marcus said evenly. He glanced back out his rearview mirror.
“Are you always this witty this early in the morning?” she joked. “I’d like to talk to you whenever you can make time for me.”
Marcus kept his eyes on the traffic around him. “If you want to talk about Monet and her pregnancy, then I really don’t have anything to say.” His body tensed up.
Reverend Wilcox knew Marcus was going to be challenge. At least he’s honest, she thought. “Actually, I wanted to talk about you, and see if there’s anything I can do to help you cope with your home situation a little better.”
“I appreciate you wanting to help, Reverend Wilcox, but there’s really nothing you can say to make my life better. It’s what it is, and I’m coping with it the best I can.”
“Well, it’s been my experience in these types of circumstances that sometimes it helps to talk to someone, a minister or maybe a therapist, when one is going through a dilemma. I sense that you’re not keen on talking to me, but would you make an exception this time? One talk, that’s all I request.”
“Did Monet, Wade, or Liz put you up to this?” Marcus was suspicious. He put on his left turn signal and steered his Blazer to the left turn lane.
“None of the above.” Reverend Wilcox chortled merrily. She tried desperately to break the ice with Marcus and put him at ease. “Give me a little credit. Can you make a little time for your minister one day this week? Whenever you’re available, I’ll make myself available.”
He knew she wouldn’t relent until he gave in, so he said, “How about Friday at five o’clock?”
Reverend Wilcox opened her date book, which lay open on her Pledge-smelling, wooden desk. “That sounds good. If you’re agreeable, we can meet at the church.”
“That’s fine,” Marcus answered tersely, as he turned onto the street where his station was located. He parked in the parking lot of the gray two story building.
“Okay, I’ll see you then. And Marcus, know that you’re not alone during what I know has to be a trying time for you and Monet. You have a lot of good people in your corner who would do anything to help you. Most of all, Jesus is there for you. All you have to do is call on Him and release your burdens to Him.”
“I know.” He exhaled loudly before disconnecting the call.
From out the corner of his eye, Marcus noticed Wade parking his jeep. He debated whether or not he should wait on Wade to join him, and decided not to. Marcus hurried out of his Blazer and opened the back door to remove his briefcase from the backseat. Then he walked rapidly to the building entrance and walked inside the station.
The noise level was minimal for a change. Marcus supposed the natives had stayed inside last night since the temperature had fallen below freezing, which may have deterred some would be criminals.
Since Monet’s attack, the mood in the detective’s room had changed. In the past the atmosphere had been upbeat. As the detectives waited on the clerk to distribute the reports and assignments, they would shoot the breeze. The subjects would run the gamut, from current events, hot dates, husbands, wives, and children, to the state of Chicago’s sport teams and politics. Lately, the vibes had been somber, like everyone was attending a funeral.
Marcus didn’t make eye contact with his co-workers as he walked into the large room to his desk. He said a tepid good morning to several detectives, then pulled out his chair, took off his jacket, and draped it around the back of the chair. He laid his hat on the desk, sat in his leather swivel chair, opened the briefcase, and took out his notepad and wrote notes in it.
Ten minutes later, Wade walked into the room carrying a couple boxes of Dunkin Donuts. He sat them on the counter, went to the coffee pot. and poured himself a cup of dark brew.
A detective named William Abrams walked over to the counter and said, “See, that’s what I’m talking about. Good going, Harrison.”
“I figured we were due for a picker-upper.” Wade grabbed two jelly donuts and walked to his desk. After he set the coffee mug and a doughnut on his desk, he handed Marcus the other doughnut and asked, “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” he replied, not looking at Wade. He opened his desk drawer and removed the number for Aron’s soon to be parole officer, and then turned on his PC.
The department clerk, Mona, walked into the room. She greeted the detectives and began passing out assignment sheets.
After Marcus’s PC had finished booting, he logged on to AFIS as he did every morning, to see if there had been any hits in the database of the fingerprints found on Monet’s car. Sadly, like previous days, there were none. He looked up from the computer monitor to see Smitty standing in front of his desk.
“What can I do for you?” Marcus asked in a neutral tone of voice.
“I just wanted to say that me and the guys,” Smitty gestured behind him, “haven’t given up on finding Monet’s attacker. We’re still following up on leads, and however long it takes we will get him.”
“And you felt compelled to make that statement for wh
at reason?” Marcus asked Smitty with a deadpan expression on his face.
“Well, we feel like you think we aren’t giving our best effort in finding Monet’s attacker, and I just wanted to reassure you that we are. You’re one of us, and anybody that hurts one of ours, hurts us too. The team has met off hours, even sometimes on the weekends, to follow up on leads. Marc, we just wanted you to know that we’re never going to give up.”
Wade nodded encouragingly at Smitty. Then he leaned back in his chair. He was at his wits end trying to think of something to do to bring Marcus out of his funk. He figured maybe Smitty talking to Marcus would let him know that he wasn’t alone in his quest to find the attacker.
Marcus dropped his hands on the desk. His eyes stung, and he closed and re-opened them. All eyes in the room seemed to be riveted on him. Mona paused handing out the next assignment and even she stopped in her tracks to stare at Marcus and Smitty.
Marcus moistened his lips and said candidly, “Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that you and the guys weren’t doing your job. This whole ordeal has been trying for me and Monet. What I did think was that you guys kept me out of the loop and that bothered me.”
“There was a good reason for that.” Smitty held up his hands. “The chief told us that you’re too close to the situation. We’re sorry, but the chief is the one who signs off on our checks, so we have to follow his directions.”
Marcus’s eyes roamed the room. “That’s all well and good, but what if it were your wife who was attacked? What would you all do? Would you just drop it?”
One of the other team members, Larry, stood up and said, “Marcus, we know how you feel, and we’d probably do the same thing if it happened to us. But we aren’t in a position where we can jeopardize our jobs. We need our checks.”
“You say that we’re a family, but in reality, we’re family with strings attached,” Marcus sputtered. “Look, you’ve said your piece, and I appreciate all you do. But that’s not going to stop me from doing what I have to do to solve the crime against me and my wife.” He stood up and left the room.
Wade felt troubled. He stood up and left the room to search for Marcus. He went to the lounge area and found him standing at the window, staring out of it.
“Marc,” he began saying, “the chief talked to me yesterday, and there have been some complaints about your attitude. Some of the guys find it disruptive.” Wade was clearly uncomfortable.
“And,” Marcus said belligerently. He flexed his hands and curled them into fists.
“Hey, buddy,” Wade help up his hands, “I’m on your side. But you’ve got to lighten up some. God knows this situation is hard on you. You’ve got to find a way to get over it so your life isn’t consumed by what happened.”
“Excuse me,” Marcus said through gritted teeth. “I can’t help but feel a little pressure here. My wife was raped, and now every day I have to watch her belly swell with that animal’s child. And to complicate matters, her old man, who she hasn’t seen in years, is getting out of the joint after serving time for murder one. And my life, as I knew it, has been obliterated like an atomic bomb was dropped on it. Man, I’ve had it up to here.” He ran his hand across his neck.
Wade could feel waves of hopelessness emanating from Marcus’s body, and he prayed that God would help him find the words to say so Marcus would realize all he had to do was pray for God to ease his burdens. All Wade could think to say was, “Come on now, brother. I’m with you, and the Lord is with you. Marcus, you’re not alone.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said heatedly. “Where was God when Monet was being raped? How come He didn’t protect her then? Where was your God then?” Marcus’s shoulders were hunched up, and he moved toward Wade menacingly.
Wade put his hand on his chest and shook his head sadly. “He’s not only my God, Marc, He’s yours too. And you know as well as I do that the situation could’ve been worse. Monet could have been killed. Is that what you would have preferred, that she died? God was there, nobody but God protected her.”
“How can you fix your mouth to ask me that?” Marcus had the grace to look ashamed for a moment. Then his face hardened. “The way I see it, Wade, is that God is the reason Monet is pregnant. That is what your God has done for me. Look, I’ve got things to do. I’ll try to do better at work. Tell the chief that you’ve talked to me, and that the message was delivered.” With that, he turned and walked out of the room.
Wade watched his friend walk out the door and thought, Lord, work with my brother, hold him tight in your arms, and don’t let him go. Show him the way, because Marcus is in need of your help today.
A few minutes later, a troubled Wade left the room and decided to talk to Chief Davis. He walked to the chief’s office and stood at the desk of Renee, the chief’s secretary.
“Have a seat, Wade, I’ll see if he’s available,” she said. Wade sat down while Renee buzzed the chief and informed him that Wade was waiting to see him. Then she turned her attention back to her PC and continued entering data. Her telephone rang minutes later. “Okay, Chief Davis, I’ll send him in,” she replied. She told Wade, “You can go in now.” She stood and ushered him into Chief Davis’s office.
“Harrison.” Chief Davis nodded at Wade. “Have a seat.”
“Hello, sir.” Wade felt uncomfortable as he sat in the chair in front of the chief’s desk. He felt like a Judas, as if he was betraying his best friend.
The men talked about office business for a while. Then Chief Davis cut to the chase. “How is he doing?” He picked up a cherry wood pipe off his desk and stroked it.
“Sir, Marcus is under a lot of pressure. He’s distraught because his wife’s attacker hasn’t been found, and he looks at the perp being loose as a personal attack on his manhood,” Wade explained.
“Hmmm.” Chief Davis bobbed his head up and down. “I can see that. Marcus has always been full of pride. I hope he can pull it together because if he can’t, then I’m going to have to pull him off the streets, assign him to a desk job, and recommend that he undergo counseling.”
Wade wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his pants. “Could you just give him more time? It’s really not my place to tell you this, but under the circumstances, I feel you should know that Marcus’s wife is pregnant, and he’s convinced the pregnancy is a result of the rape.”
That news got the chief’s attention. He’d been looking down at a paper in Marcus’s folder. He looked up at Wade, down at the papers, then up at Wade again, his mouth slightly open.
“I promise I’ll keep an eye on him. And if I feel as though he’s slipping or unable to cope well, I’ll bring it to your attention immediately. If Marcus is unable to or is suspended from work, I’m afraid he’ll snap. He’s got to feel useful somewhere, since he feels like he’s failed at home.”
Chief Davis stuck the pipe in his mouth. “The whole thing is a shame. I think you’re taking a lot on your shoulders, Harrison. You know partners are like lifelines. A situation could jump off at any time, and you’ve got to make sure you can rely on your partner’s actions.”
“I hear you, sir, but I couldn’t do any less. Marcus and I have been partners for fifteen years. He’s more than a partner to me, he’s like a brother. Pulling him off the job now would just further damage his psyche. If I feel like I can’t handle the situation, I’ll talk to you,” Wade promised.
“See that you do. If your suggestion fails, then it’s on you, Harrison,” the chief growled. His telephone rang. He laid the pipe down on his desk and pressed a button on the telephone. “Yes, Renee?”
“Chief, you have a meeting in five minutes,” the secretary reminded her boss.
“Okay, Renee, I’m coming. Harrison is leaving.” He pressed the button again and the call was disconnected.
“Why don’t you talk to Renee on your way out, and set up an appointment with me on a weekly basis to talk about Caldwell’s progress, or the lack thereof?” Chief Davis instructed.
Wade stood up
and pushed the chair closer to the desk. “Yes, sir. I mean I will, sir.”
“I swear when I talk to you, Harrison, I feel like I’m in the military.” He closed the file. “Keep me in the loop,” he further instructed.
“I will.” Wade flashed him a smile as he walked out of the office. He paused at Renee’s desk and told her the chief’s request.
Renee clicked on an icon on the PC monitor and checked Chief Davis’s schedule. “He’s free in the mornings at six thirty. I know your shift doesn’t start until seven. Can you come in early on Fridays?
Wade nodded. Nobody said it would be easy, but he was willing to go the extra mile for Marcus.
Renee scheduled the meeting as a recurring one for three months. “I’ll see you next Friday, Wade. Rose Woodson is one of my close friends, and she told me Marcus has been having a hard time. I just wanted to compliment you on hanging in there for your friend. God will bless you, and one day Marcus will realize what you’ve done and he’ll be grateful.”
“Thanks, Renee. I think so too.” He smiled at her, then left the room and returned to the detective’s area.
After he sat down at his desk, Wade turned and asked Marcus if anything had come in for them while he’d been gone. Marcus told him no. Wade opened his case book and before he began to transcribe notes into it, Wade looked over at Marcus. He was hunched over the PC keyboard typing with his hunt and peck method.
Wade hoped that Marcus would be able to get himself together, because if he didn’t, Wade knew Chief Davis would make good on his threat to assign Marcus to a desk job. Wade prayed he was up to the task of keeping his friend in check because he didn’t want Marcus’s life to spiral even further out of control. Wade sighed and turned his attention back to his almost illegible scrawling handwriting and ordered his mind to stay on work, and as his grandmother used to admonish him as a child, to stop borrowing trouble.
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