It still didn’t feel right. But it was what it was.
“No, it’s not.”
“Fuck you,” she said to the voice. She was overthinking it. The voices were fake stress. She was ready to go back on duty, and had proved it to herself when she came back to Peculiar. Mind over matter.
Peculiar was her home. She’d never liked it as a kid, because her childhood sucked and she blamed it on the town, when the blame went strictly on her biological parent and the fucked-up state foster system.
Not far from Greenville, Texas, Peculiar longed to be like the bigger cities. A cute little college and lake town if you weren’t aware of the festering underbelly lying just beneath the surface. That underbelly made her come back, made her stay. She wanted to save Peculiar from itself.
Kate worked through her gunshot wound aftermath with occupational and physical therapy. She’d tackled her psychological issues with the psychologist and group therapy at the trauma center in Dallas. Being in Dallas made her miss Peculiar in ways she never imagined.
She’d been amazed at the number of cops treated at Dallas Post Trauma Center. Those other cops made her feel safe sharing, because they’d dealt with similar issues. Being in the bigger city made her feel out of sorts, but the city wasn’t so large she felt lost. She’d been there plenty of times as a kid. She didn’t like to think about those trips, since they usually involved the foster system and child services.
She’d been with her own kind at DPTC. Cops who needed help working through something they’d witnessed, experienced, or done. By the time her eight weeks were up, she just wanted to be at home, with cops who didn’t need help. When she first arrived, even though it was voluntary, she had no empathy. No matter the situation, it wasn’t hers, and she didn’t want to hear the other LEOs working through their issues. She had enough trouble with her own. She wasn’t there to make friends. In the end, she did make a few friends, and she learned empathy. No, their situation would never be the same, but the underlying trauma was.
Deep down, now that it was over, it was good to know she wasn’t alone. No matter how many people tell you they understand, no one understands unless they’ve been there. The people at DPTC had been there. If only she’d appreciated that more at the time. She could use a friend who understood, but she wasn’t the type to reach out.
Kate nearly jumped out of her pants when she heard a doorbell. Stopping for a moment in her morning routine, she almost didn’t bother to answer. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She had no desire to chat with a Jehovah’s Witness and sure didn’t want to be late for work. The drive from the plantation would take her a good fifteen minutes as it was.
Looking out over the front balcony, she saw the Dodge Charger, so she walked down the stairs calling out, “What are you doing here?”
She opened the door and stood with her body blocking the opening.
“Nice to see you too,” Zane said. Sergeant Zane Gwilly was her boss, not to mention he was also her ex-husband.
As soon as she opened the front door, the shadow that seemed to be on her all morning vanished.
“Why are you here?” she asked again, as she walked back up the stairs to the bedroom.
Zane followed her. “I thought I’d give you a ride, since you don’t have your police issue vehicle here.”
There was a safety in having Zane there, making her feel readier than ever to go back to work. He’d been her rock through this reinstatement. There were new bosses to meet and impress. He’d regaled many an officer and administrator, with his story of Kate’s shooting accuracy. She’d heard the stories for months.
Kate knew the job wasn’t just about being able to shoot, it was about being smart, thinking fast, and sometimes being patient. It was the patience she had the most trouble with.
“Would you do this for your other officers?” Kate buttoned her shirt over her vest and pinned her badge in place. The feel of the cold metal on her fingers gave her strength and chilled her at the same time.
“Don’t read into it, Kate.” Zane grabbed her belt from the bed and held it out.
“I’m still not going to have sex with you.” Kate looked up, grinning
“Oh, darn.” He stepped back and leaned against the door frame. “I guess I’ll have to keep trying.”
“I think I’m nervous.” Kate wanted to change the subject and get serious.
As she tucked her shirt in and fastened her belt, she looked to Zane for reassurance. When he said nothing, she grabbed her duty belt and fastened over her personal belt. Making the adjustments, and feeling the weight of it, she sat down again and pushed her feet into her boots.
She’d messed up the process. Pants and boots before vest and shirt. She knew better.
Zane came over and knelt down in front of her, grabbing the laces he cinched the boots tight. “I’d be nervous too. But you’re starting fresh, and the people responsible for your leave of absence are long gone.”
“I’m over that,” Kate lied. “It’s the fact that I’m coming back to the force, but it is all new bosses.” She let him finish tying her boots and pulled down her pant legs, then reached for her weapon.
“Not all new,” Zane said as he stood. “There’s still quite a few familiar faces.
“Condition one?” Zane asked.
Kate nodded. “Yes, one in the chamber and a full magazine.”
“Two spare magazines?”
“Zane!” Frustration overcame her.
“Sorry. I know you’re more than capable. Remember, I’m your boss too, and I’m not new.” He put his hands on her face and kissed her cheek.
Kate felt the familiar pang of loss when he touched her. She almost turned and let him kiss her on the lips. That would’ve been a huge mistake. She’d come this far without leaning on him again, and she’d make it through this.
He lingered like he wanted to rehash old times and maybe get that kiss. “Ready?”
Kate looked around the room, panic gripped her like industrial strength Velcro. She reached up to her head and felt the tight bun she’d fastened at the nape of her neck. “My hat? I don’t have my hat.”
“It’s at the station, Kate. Don’t you remember?” Zane put his arm around her and led her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I was born ready.” Kate looked up at him as she lied. She loved his bald head and goofy grin. She loved everything about him. But that wasn’t enough.
“Cats are fed? Chores done? You aren’t going to make any excuses?” He bumped his hip into her.
“I don’t have any cats. I’m finished with excuses. Finished hiding. My psychologist said I’m ready to come back to work. And I hear a sergeant job might be coming open, I figure I can try for that and you’ll become a lieutenant.”
“I don’t want that job.” His words made it clear it wasn’t up for discussion.
Kate held her hand up. “Just a minute.” She walked through the grand foyer at the entrance of the house, and turned to go into the kitchen. She’d made something to eat, so she needed to grab her lunch bag. She also grabbed a second bag and handed it to Zane, who’d followed her into the kitchen. She made him lunch: tuna sandwich, cold pasta salad, and an apple. Somehow, she knew he’d show up. And if he didn’t, it would be her lunch the next day.
“You do this for all of the other officers, too?” Zane asked as they walked out the front door.
Kate looked back into the house before she closed the door. Oscar Silva, AKA Payaso, stood in the hallway. He grinned, and blood ran out of his mouth and down his chin.
“Hey, are you okay?” Zane said.
“I could make lunch for everyone if you wanted me to.” Kate blinked, trying to rid herself of the image of Silva.
They headed out to Zane’s patrol car. Once outside, she was stunned by the bright light so early in the morning. Reaching in her handbag, she pulled out a pair of sunglasses. Once the glare was eliminated, she looked around the plantation. Two
cats (not hers) soaked in the sun’s rays, sleeping on an unopened bale of hay, Azizi stood on the porch of the tenant house, staring at them.
She wasn’t staring at them, she was staring past them. Kate turned to see Payaso standing at the edge of the trees. Kate swallowed hard then looked back to Azizi, but she was gone.
Zane looked toward the tenant house. “She gives me the creeps.”
“Stop it, she’ll hear you.”
“She’s almost a football field away.”
“She’ll still hear you. She’s gifted. It’s all that hoodoo, you know.”
“I get enough of that crap at home, I don’t need it when I’m at your house.”
Zane’s neighbors were active practitioners of the faith, which wasn’t quite a religion, but did have a foundation in Christianity. Hoodoo practitioners can be found throughout the United States, but seemed to be concentrated in the South. Especially in and around Louisiana.
“How’s Wally?” Kate thought about Zane’s dog. Wally had been a gift from her when they divorced.
“Smart as ever. He misses you.”
“Whatever, he doesn’t even know me.”
“Of course he knows you.” Zane opened the car door for her. “Funny, he’s lived with me longer than you did.”
Kate climbed in and didn’t respond. This was a conversation best left alone. It only caused a fight. She was sorry she’d even asked about Wally. The drive to the station was eerily quiet, other than the sounds from the police radio. Zane sped through town, not heeding the speed limits, but not racing either. She tried not to notice how many times he glanced at her, but eventually she started counting. It gave her mind something to do as she contemplated the day ahead.
When Zane pulled into the parking lot of the Peculiar Police Department building, Kate said, “You glanced at me more than thirty-seven times on the ride over here. I promise I’m not going to break. In fact, I’m stronger. I’m not afraid of getting shot, because I know how it feels now, and that’s okay.”
“How is that possible? It’s not okay,” Zane said.
“It’s like losing your virginity. It’s scary the first time, but after that, it’s no big deal. I figure it’s like killing too. Once you’ve killed a person, killing the next one isn’t as difficult.”
“That’s a great thing for a cop to say,” Zane frowned at her, then opened his door.
“That’s a great thing for a cop to say, because you know your partner will have your six.”
Zane didn’t respond as he exited the vehicle.
No way was Kate going to wait for him to come around and open her door, she reached down to the floorboards, grabbed her stuff, then jumped out of the Charger and stood tall, ready to tackle her demons.
Speaking of which, Kate could see Payaso standing at the front doors, waiting. In that moment, she decided not to give him the satisfaction of recognizing his gang moniker. He’d be Silva from here out.
Kate already met and been interviewed by the new chief of police, Ryle Benoit. Pure Cajun, only he didn’t sound like one. Kate hoped he hadn’t read her employment record too thoroughly, so she’d have a fighting chance they’d get along from the start.
She laughed at that thought. Had the time off mellowed her, or made her worse. They’d soon find out. Having a short temper kinda got in the way of being a cop sometimes. When her hackles got up, laissez les bon temps rouler. The good times were only rolling for her though, not the guy she collared who should have shut his trap.
All the paperwork needed to put Kate back on active duty had been filled out the previous week. There had even been a sit down with a psychologist provided by the state. She was cleared for patrol; there was no need to put her at a desk job. Kate vowed to quit if they ever stuck her behind a desk.
Maybe that’s why Zane didn’t want the promotion, he hated being inside. She couldn’t blame him, though the perks and pay raise would be nice.
“Let’s do this thing.” She stepped in line with Zane, and they entered the massive double doors of the police department, walking right past Silva. Kate didn’t even look in his direction. That’s when her heart started racing. She was sure everyone could see the thumping in her chest.
She made Zane promise no big hoopla around her return; no cake, no welcome back gathering, nothing. He’d promised there wouldn’t be. And there wasn’t. But the chief was there to greet her as they walked in, and that would never have happened if she hadn’t been a wounded cop returning to work. It made her wonder if they knew just how wounded she really was.
The chief reached out his hand and said, “Corporal Darby, welcome back. This is a good day.”
“This is a very good day.” Mirror the other person’s words or actions, she reminded herself. It makes them feel at ease, and comfortable with her. It was a tactic she learned in business schools that had worked in police interrogations. It had been reinforced at DPTC.
Benoit turned and walked in the same direction Zane and Kate had been walking, saying a less zealous good morning to Zane.
“I’ll see you in the squad room.” Zane split off from them, and left Kate with the chief.
You haven’t read Angry Betty yet?
What? Well, here’s the first chapter…
Chapter 1
Angry Betty
Corporal Kate Darby looked at the clock on the dashboard of her patrol car. 5:30 am. Half an hour until her shift ended. Her friend in the restaurant business liked to say a slow night meant last minute customers, whose order wouldn’t be enough money for the extra time she’d have to pay her employees to wait on and wait for the customer to eat and leave. And those customers always stayed and stayed, even after half the lights in the restaurant were turned off.
Kate wouldn’t mind having to work a few extra hours. It would give her an excuse to cancel her morning meeting, even the thought of the phone call she received made her stomach turn.
“Miss Darby?” the woman on the phone said.
“Yes, this is Kate Darby,” she responded warily, thinking maybe it was a sales call, but it came from a local area code. Robocall, she was sure of it. Weren’t they tapping into local numbers these days?
“This is Eva Bonnet with Lloyd, Norris & Taylor. I’m calling to inform you that your grandfather, Edwin Barrow, died two weeks ago, and his will is being read at Mr. Norris’ office tomorrow morning at nine. Mr. Norris thinks it’s important you be there.”
“My grandfather?” Kate asked. “Where are you calling from?”
“As I said, Lloyd, Norris & Taylor.” The sickening sweet in her tone was well trained.
Kate shook her head. “No, I mean what city? Because I think you may have the wrong person. I don’t have a grandfather. I was raised in the foster system.”
“Ma’am, you are the daughter of Amy Darby, right?” Sounding so patient, Kate thought she must have to deal with idiots all day. Kate dealt with idiots all day and she knew the tone.
“I am,” Kate said. “Wow, this is unreal. I haven’t seen or heard from my mom since I was very young. I’m pretty sure she said my grandparents were dead. But again, I was pretty young. I may be remembering it wrong.”
“Will you be able to make it to the reading, Ms. Darby?”
Kate took down the address. She had a grandfather. All this time. She wondered how long he’d known about her, and why the hell he hadn’t come forward when DHS had taken her from her mother.
Kate agreed to be at the attorney’s office at nine, and immediately wondered what the old man looked like. Tall, wiry, with a thick head of white hair? Or maybe short and dumpy, with a bald, shiny head? Whatever he looked like, he’d known about her and done nothing to help her situation when she was as grandkid. Screw him. She didn’t want or need anything from him. And to go sit in a stuffy attorney’s office and listen as an old man’s will was read made her skin crawl just at the thought of it.
But maybe her grandfather didn’t have anything to offer. Look at the daughter they raised. Wh
at a peach. But he had to have something, since his attorney was Mr. Norris, one of the partners. Didn’t the lesser clients get the associates, and the better ones got the partners?
The conversation and the thoughts of the meeting rolled through her head on a loop during her entire shift. Lucky for her, it was a slow crime night, and as she patrolled the streets, her stomach churned at the thought of knowing her grandfather had been nearby all her life, and he’d never tried to contact her. She wondered about her grandmother, would she be at the reading? Who else would be there?
Only fifteen minutes until six o’clock. Kate turned onto Sutter Street. A white Mercedes rolled through the stop sign, right in front of her. “Not smart, asshole,” she said aloud, thinking Who doesn’t stop when there’s a cop car to your right at a four-way stop?
She lit the guy up, following him as she radioed dispatch. “229 headquarters, copy signal 18 HQ.”
“Go ahead, 229.”
Kate gave the license number, color, make, and model. “Stand by for stop, HQ.”
“Standing by.”
“229 HQ, stop is going to be at Mission and Sixth. Occupied by one.”
Easy enough, she’d check the driver’s license, issue a warning, and send the guy on his way. Clock out, nap, go to the meeting with the lawyer.
She turned on her spotlight, then hit the button on her chest camera and opened the door, getting out of her car. Stepping up behind the Mercedes and touching the left rear fender with her right hand, to leave her presence on the car, she took two strides forward and said, “Good morn—”
“Why are you harassing me?” A greasy looking male in his thirties cut her off, clearly unhappy to have been pulled over.
“If stopping you for a traffic violation is harassment, it’s new to me. You rolled through that stop sign at the Sutter Street intersection.”
Bang Switch Page 17
