The Mourning Missed Page 4

  “Oh, it’s going to be one of those nights,” Bacchus said, grinning. She shrugged and took a more reasonable sip of the second glass.

  After some of the food was gone but long before dessert, Lilly could wait no longer. She started slowly but soon a raging torrent of words, expletives, and interesting Cajun phrases cascaded across Sarge. He nodded solemnly, never taking his eyes from hers until she wound down. As she started in on Clint’s issues, Bacchus held up a restraining hand. “Let’s let him tell it.”

  Clint presented a less assertive but no less egregious litany of two days working with Officer Bartholomew McMichaels. When Clint reached for his empty wine glass, Sarge refilled it and sat silently for half-a-minute. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled slowly. “I’ve had this discussion with the staff at the academy at least four times, and the Commandant twice. We are doing new graduates a disservice by not telling them how it really is out in the world.”

  Shaking his head in derision, he attempted to explain. “Although what you’ve just described deserves an in-depth investigation by IAD, it probably won’t happen. The Montrose City Police Department is enjoying a period of good relations with the general citizenry and no one wants to rock the boat. Those few who fall beneath the wheels of the burgeoning machine are seen as collateral damage. You two don’t know how bad it was ten years ago.”

  Sarge paused as a pained look trundled its way across his features. “It was common for an officer down call to go out every night; sometimes multiples. We went everywhere in pairs and knew where our nearest backup was at all times. Everyone wore full body armor and still we lost an officer a week.”

  The sorrow in his eyes spoke of friends gone too soon. “Between the drug cartels, motorcycle gangs running guns, prostitutes, and protection, and the really organized crime, no officer was safe anywhere at any time. The new mayor was elected on a platform of cleaning up the streets and he appointed a Police Commissioner he felt could do the job. It’s an ugly business and far from perfect. But it’s so much better than before, everyone is just enjoying the gravy time.”

  “But, how do we justify officers being involved in the same protection racket the Mayor swore to stop?” Clint burst out.

  “Lower your voice,’ Bacchus hissed. “First, you have no proof, other than conversations you’ve heard. Second, you have no witnesses to those conversations. So, you effectively have squat. And if you take that to IAD, they’ll tell you the same thing.”

  “So what do we do?” Lilly moaned.

  “You just go along to get along,” Sarge sighed. “I’ll call in a few favors and see if I can’t get you assigned to patrol with someone a little less judgmental about your size but you may have to change divisions,” he said to Lilly. “You need to start keeping a diary of everything you hear and do, if you want to have any impact on your issue,” he added before turning to Clint. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I’d suggest you get your share while the getting’s good.”

  Both young officers were shocked to hear their mentor make such a statement until they realized he was simply restating his earlier guidance for just getting along. “Let’s finish dinner and get a bottle of sweet port,” he suggested pleasantly. “It’s really good with the Tiramisu.”

  AFTER ROLL CALL THE next morning, Lilly was surprised by the shift sergeant calling her into his office. She reported in and he did not give her at ease. “Not the best way to start a career in law enforcement,” he said, handing her a document. She read it. It was a transfer order assigning her to the Central Division. “Apparently, there’s some idiot over there who thinks you could actually be anything more than a Meter Maid. Well, I certainly hope so for your sake, because you suck at that.”

  She stood silently at attention as he glanced at some papers on his desk and opened a side drawer, pretending to look for something. Realizing he wasn’t going to get a rise out of her so he could gig her for insubordination, he snapped. “Are you still here? Dismissed.”

  Lilly had no car, satisfied to ride with Clint when he wanted to go somewhere, or rely on public transportation if she was on her own. At every opportunity, she walked wherever she was going, and it showed in her excellent physique. As Clint was already at Central Division, she decided to take the bus.

  Standing at the bus stop waiting, several people shied away from her, but one little girl kept looking at her sidearm. Finally, Lilly walked to the corner a few feet away to wait alone. As the bus approached, a police cruiser passed by and stopped just beyond the bus stop. “Officer, where are you going?” The driver called out.

  “Central Division, sir,” she replied, intent on boarding the bus.

  “Get in, I’ll take you over there,” he called.

  Smiling at the bus driver, she hurried to the waiting police car and hustled in as the bus pulled away. Reaching for her seat belt, the middle-aged driver smirked at her. “You know we don’t have to wear those, right?”

  “Sure, but I also know they reduce the probability of injury if we’re involved in an accident. They trained us at the Academy how to release them as the vehicle comes to a halt, so there’s really no delay.”

  “A newbie,” the plain-faced officer chuckled. “What happened, you get lost on your first day to work?”

  “Actually, this is my third day on the force, and I’ve been transferred from Northwest to Central,” Lilly replied evenly.

  Looking at her name badge, recognition dawned on the officer’s face as his already ruddy complexion went darker red. “Jackson, the troublemaker,” he said, pulling to the roadside. “Get out; I don’t need nobody to see me with no troublemaker.”

  “Being as how you’ve caused me to miss my bus, I believe I’ll impose upon you to fulfill your initial offer,” Lilly replied with a tight smile.

  “Huh?” The driver said, clearly puzzled. “What did you just say?”

  “I said, motherfucker, if you don’t take me to Central Division right now, I’m going to IAD and tell them you attempted to force me to perform felattio on you. I’ll have plenty of witnesses from the bus, including the driver. Shall we go?”

  SERGEANT ARANA, THIS is Officer Jackson,” the shift supervisor made the introduction. “She’s all yours.”

  Lilly extended her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Sergeant Arana. What may I do to earn your trust?”

  Arana just locked her eyes into Lilly’s for fifteen seconds, completely ignoring the outstretched symbol of greeting and friendship.

  “Stow your gear and meet me in the squad room in 10 minutes,” the sergeant replied coldly. Turning, she walked away with Lilly right on her heels. Arana caught sight of her out of her peripheral vision as she turned into the doorway of the daily assembly point. She was startled to find her there. “Are you deaf or just stupid?” She railed. “I told you to stow your gear.”

  “I don’t have any gear today, Sergeant, so I’m good to go,” Lilly said, offering a saccharine smile.

  A slight grin flirted with Arana’s lips for a few moments before she turned and marched down the hallway toward the parking lot. “You drive,” the sergeant ordered as they approached a new Chevy Malibu. It was completely Plain Jane inside and had rough edges all around. Once started, it was apparent the car had a small, four cylinder engine.

  “Not going to be doing any high-speed pursuits in this baby,” Lilly muttered.

  “As long as I’m in the vehicle, we’re not doing any high-speed anything,” Arana assured her.

  “Yes, Sergeant,” Lilly decided was the best answer. She’d see how long that worked for.

  They rode in silence except for traffic directions until midday, when she directed Lilly to a parking lot near a high school. “Local kids like to get out here on their lunch breaks and drag race up and down the parking lot,” she explained. “We’ve been asked to make our presence known.”

  “Won’t any of their parents call the PC if we write them a ticket?” Lilly asked caustically.

  “See, that’s why you�
��re in trouble already,” Arana snapped. “Instead of just keeping your mouth shut and learning from observing, you gotta come in quoting regulations and booting the Mayor’s mother’s car.” Lilly laughed outright before she could stop herself. “Oh, so you think this is all funny, do you?” Arana was livid, her face beet red and her back stiff.

  “No Sergeant, I don’t think this is all funny, but parts of it really are,” Lilly answered truthfully. “If you had seen the look on her face when I booted her car; it was priceless.”

  “Well, what wasn’t priceless was when the mayor called the PC and chewed on him for five minutes about the quote, useless cunt who booted his mother’s car, end quote.” Looking hard at Lilly, Arana made a concerted effort to calm herself. “Is that the reputation you want to bring to the job? That’s an ugly term and I don’t know any woman who tolerates it. But apparently the mayor feels differently, which is one reason I won’t be voting for him next election, clean streets or not.”

  Closing her eyes, Lilly realized just how far off-track she’d gotten in so short a period of time. “No, Sergeant; that is not the reputation I want to bring to the job. I will do my best to correct that misconception starting right now.”

  As she finished, a new Ford Mustang SVT Cobra and a year-old Z28 Camaro entered the parking lot at a high rate of speed. The Mustang went into a power spin, whirling around in a tight circle while blue-grey smoke boiled out of the rear of the car. The Camaro was performing the same stunt, in the opposite direction, and their combined burn-out smoke filled the parking lot around them. The roar of redlined engines and the squall of tortured tires combined with the redolent odor of burning rubber was enough to overpower the senses.

  “Drive over and block the exit,” Arana ordered, raising her voice to be heard above the ruckus. When Lilly had positioned the vehicle across the exit with her side facing in, they sat watching the carloads of frolicking teenagers enjoy themselves for a few minutes. When both vehicles finally stopped they were facing away from the patrol car and had somehow not seen the vehicle move or stop.

  Arana picked up the microphone and turned the switch to PA. “I need the driver’s of both vehicles to exit their cars with their keys in hand. Approach the patrol car with your license, registration, and proof of insurance available for inspection.”

  For several moments nothing happened and Arana had raised the microphone to her lips again when both vehicles started moving. “Turn off your engines and exit the vehicles, now,” she commanded. Instead, both vehicles lunged forward and spun in screeching turns back toward the one exit. Quickly switching to radio mode, she called for help.

  “Officers need assistance, parking lot north of Montrose High School. Two aggressive drivers and cars full of kids.” She proceeded to give full descriptions of the vehicles including license tag numbers as both vehicle roared across the lot toward them.

  “Have your weapon at the ready,” Arana told Lilly. Both vehicles sped toward the police car until the last instant, slamming on their brakes and sliding to within a foot of Lilly’s door. They revved their engines aggressively and pumped their clutches with their emergency brakes set, just to make the vehicles lunge against their shocks.

  “Stay in the vehicle, lock the doors,” Arana ordered.

  The passenger door of the Mustang sprang open and two tall teenagers leapt out. Each was well over six feet, with one heavily muscled like a linebacker. The other was whipcord thin.

  “I got this,” Lilly said. Springing her seatbelt, she snapped her door open and intentionally slammed it against the rubber nose of the new Mustang. She easily slid her petite frame through the narrow opening and stepping out in one smooth motion. As she allowed her momentum to move her towards the rear of the police car she flipped the door closed behind her.

  “You damn fool,” Arana screamed as she lunged across the front of the car to lock Lilly’s door behind her. Lilly heard it click but nothing would break her concentration.

  “Which one of you stupid fucks wants an ass-kicking first?” She called, snapping her baton open from its collapsed position.

  “Shit, I’ll take yo little stick away fum ya and fuck ya wid it,” the skinny one said. All the others in both cars laughed.

  “Actually, I’m going to fuck you with it, asshole, and all your friends are going to watch and see how much you actually enjoy it.”

  Cat-calls from both cars caused his face to harden and he lunged across the eight feet separating them with his arms outstretched for her face. Lilly easily sidestepped his clumsy reach and snapped the baton against his extended knee. His high-pitched scream of pain startled the larger punk as he collapsed in a heap, his throbbing knee drawn up to his chest.

  “You scream like a little girl,” Lilly taunted. “Anybody else want to try their luck?” The muscular teen hurried back to the relative safety of the Mustang.

  The passenger door of the Camaro opened slowly and an Asian teenager stepped out less than eight feet away. “I think I will,” he said as he took a running leap towards her.

  Lilly had never studied martial arts, but she’d been in plenty of street fights. She knew jumping into the air was one of the stupidest things you could do. The only time it ever worked was in Kung Fu movies. It left you without options because you could not alter your trajectory, position, or landing point. All these things could be used against you. She waited until the last moment, expecting a kick to come from his near leg.

  As the kick whipped out, she dodged under it and grabbed his pant leg as he sailed past. Holding onto the leg, she yanked hard in the opposite direction. This altered his trajectory until his momentum had him looping for the ground, fast and hard. He landed on his outstretched hands and Lilly heard a bone snap. This one didn’t scream, but he was definitely out of the fight.

  “Anybody else?” She called, openly mocking then all. When no one moved, she finished. “In that case, drivers licenses, insurance, and registrations; now.”

  The Camaro driver got out. He was just under six feet but had malice written all over him. He sauntered over to her and flipped his documents in her face. Without a moment’s hesitation she bladder-punched him. He went down but didn’t cry out; he simply fainted. Rolling him onto his chest, Lilly cuffed him. Looking at the Mustang driver, she smiled and said, “Come on, sweeties, you’re next.”

  Seven

  “I’LL WRITE THE CITATIONS, you collect the information on everyone else here,” Sergeant Arana ordered. Piqued, Lilly did as directed and was just finishing the last ID check when company arrived. Two other squad cars rolled up on the scene as Sergeant Arana was finishing with the citations for the two drivers.

  Moving to stand beside Arana, Lilly was astonished when the sergeant turned to her and said, “Wait in the car.”

  Again frustrated with the order, she did her best to conform to it. As she watched, Arana became animated, arguing with a younger man with gold bars on his collar. Great, she thought, a patrol supervisor.

  Her vision blurred as a red haze fell over her sight. She couldn’t breathe, her skin felt like it was on fire, and a fierce pain shot through her chest. At first, she thought heart attack before realizing how ludicrous that was. Man, I’m really pissed off, she decided as she willed her racing heart to calm.

  The radio dispatcher’s voice came through the speaker, causing her to jump. She sounded more excited than her normally calm self. “All units, officer down. I repeat, we have an officer down at the impound lot; shots fired. Car 17 is involved. All responding units identify.”

  Seventeen? That was Clint’s unit!

  Immediately, seven units replied to the radio call. Looking out the passenger window, Lilly watched as an officer finished placing the cuffed driver Lilly had subdued in the back of his car. He looked startled and turned immediately, sprinting up to the Lieutenant. Moments later, every officer was rushing toward their vehicles. Arana walked casually back to the cruiser and Lilly started the car as soon as she sat down.

 
; “Just shut that back off, we’re not going anywhere,” Arana said dejectedly. “I’m in trouble, so therefore, you’re in trouble.”

  “Ah, Sergeant, car 17 is my boyfriend’s unit. I believe he might be hurt,” Lilly said, grabbing the shift knob to put the car in gear.

  Lunging for the ignition, Arana snapped the switch off and yanked the key out. “I said, we’re not going anywhere. Any time an officer-down call goes out, the only unit which doesn’t respond is the one personally involved with them. Even if that were not the case, you’re waiting here until IAD can pick you up. You’re suspended, pending charges of insubordination, failure to follow a direct order from a superior, and reckless endangerment of the general public. In the meantime, give me your sidearm.”

  Tears sprang into Lilly’s eyes and she dashed them away. “You fucking coward, you ratted me out to the Lieutenant after I saved our asses? Well, according to inter-departmental directives, the only individual who can relieve an officer of their sidearm is a patrol supervisor, shift or watch commander, or member of command staff. So, I’ll just hang onto it until IAD gets here.” Snatching her door open, she stepped from the vehicle.

  “Officer Jackson, I gave you a direct order, now I’m giving you another one,” Arana yelled. “Get back in this vehicle and surrender your sidearm. Don’t make this any worse on yourself than it already is.”

  “Worse?” Lilly laughed harshly. “How much worse can it get? I’m suspended, thanks to your recommendations, right after I got transferred from another division because I suck as a Meter Maid. My career is toast, and all because you’re a sniveling, cringing chicken-shit. So now I guess we both know who the real useless cunt is, huh?”

  “PULL IN BEHIND THIS big Lincoln here,” McMichaels ordered.

  Clint stopped the car with enough room to pull out if need be without having to back up. “Stay in the car?” He asked.

  “See, you’re learning,” Bart replied with a grin. Sauntering alongside the fancy luxury car, McMichaels rapped on the side-view mirror with an old-fashioned night stick. He struck it hard enough it might have shattered.