Command: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Amélie S. Duncan

  Bad news traveled faster than good.

  “No. I’m not protecting Amber. She took drugs, and I was with her.”

  Amber could tell the police about my past drug use. She was also with me when I was at my worst after Jackson died. Amber listened when no one else wanted to anymore. She didn’t try to make me change.

  “I’ll . . . I’ll sell my Chevelle to replace the loss of money and donate the rest for the baseball camp.”

  Something I’d been thinking about doing since I left the group home earlier.

  “Until Amber steals again or hurts someone else and you go to jail. Your covering for her won’t help Lucy or Amy. They will still lose their chance. I can’t force you to take the love my brother has and the love our family has for you, Shana. But please think about doing something right. Now, you can help me by holding this beautiful child.”

  I sat cuddling the babies for a while. It was probably more therapeutic than anything I’d ever done. Maeve was an incredibly smart woman. I felt . . . necessary, holding those little ones, giving them time. Warmth. Hugs. Something Nathan gave me. And I wanted to give the girls at the group home. They looked up to you. Hell, they kept your secret about Amber because they wanted you to stay with them. They did the same with all the other adults who failed them. They want love so bad, and you have so much of it. Was Maeve right? Did I truly have so much love that I could offer more to the girls, to Nathan, to . . . society?

  I like to defend those that want to save themselves. That struck a nerve. What Nathan had said to my mom about trying to save Jackson had hit that same nerve. I had tried to save Jackson. I’d always tried to save him . . . from himself. From harm. But when it came down to saving myself?

  What was holding me back from reporting the truth about Amber? She was a twenty-four-year-old woman who still partied irresponsibly. Cared little about others. Nathan was right. I didn’t really care that much about Amber getting in trouble. I was more worried about myself. The girls would find out that I let my friend get away with stealing from them. That I had been around drugs even though I knew I shouldn’t have been. I let them down, Nathan, my dad. I let myself down too. But seeing my girls playing hard, fighting back for every little thing they got. They were as fragile as those babies. They deserved better. I had the chance even if it hurt me to make things right now. There was only one choice to make.

  I called my lawyer and sent him all the photos and information I had on Amber and Skelly.

  “Go ahead and tell them I saw her with the compact and the drug use.”

  “I’m glad you’re finally on board, Shana. These photos don’t say much. Do you have more?”

  “No. Amber promised to send them but said there was something wrong with her phone.”

  “Sounds convenient. Find a way to get more out of her to save yourself. I suppose this adds to doubt. Anyway, I’ll add this to your file. And with your information on Amber and Skylar, the cops have more issues with proving a case against you. Let’s meet up at the station again. I hope this works to help with the theft and drug possession the police have linked to you now.”

  He offered no promises. I had to prepare myself for the worst, but doing what was right mattered more. Nate and the girls deserved no less.

  “What will happen to Amber?” I asked.

  “It’s hard to prosecute theft without evidence. Amber may get arrested, searched, questioned. Whatever they decide.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I said.

  I finished up with Maeve and went home. There, I opened my laptop and wrote for hours. I compiled all my ideas about what I wanted to happen and how I could do it. A teen talk and emergency app to connect and network with other latchkey kids who had parents who worked full-time. An app for community staff with advocates to protect themselves. A way to lobby to help change the overly strict rules. Stories and networks for kids to work together who went through the system. So they wouldn’t be alone. So they’d never feel as broken as I did. But how would I fund it?

  I went to the guest house to find Dad, but he wasn’t there.

  “Dad, where are you?” I called out into the hallway. A jazz music ringtone went off and I followed it across the hallway. To my surprise, I found him in Jackson’s room. I walked in and hesitated at the door. I still had pain, but I also had good memories.

  “Dad?”

  He was in a trance, holding Jackson’s baseball mitt.

  “Do you want something?” he asked. His voice croaked.

  “Yes. I do, but are you okay?”

  He exhaled. “Yes, I am. I don’t usually come in here anymore, but with Jackson’s fundraiser coming up, I felt I needed to.”

  “I understand. I think it’s good to remember and miss Jackson.”

  “Did you want something, Shana?”

  “Yeah, Dad. I do.” I told Dad every idea I had, including what he could do to help Lucy and the other girls.

  “Hold on.” He raised his hands for me to stop speaking. “What you want takes money, and I’m not certain you’re ready to take over your trust fund.”

  “You’re right, Dad, I’m not,” I agreed. “But one day, I will be. I’ll have the funds. Just make the rest work. But this situation requires more than money. You can help them.”

  “I don’t interfere with rulings or work in the children’s court.”

  I tightened my jaw. “You interfere when it’s someone you care about.”

  “I do care about you, Shana. I just want you to learn to be responsible. Now you’ve gone and ruined your community service.”

  Dad’s words stung and his disappointment weighed on me. I hated what happened, but I could only move forward, and with his help I hoped to.

  “I’m trying, and I’m asking you to help them. The kids count on each other as a family. We shouldn’t tear them apart when they are working hard to keep their lives together. They will take restrictions, I know it, but don’t make them go to a detention center. They deserve another chance. I messed up, and I want to make things right. Please.”

  “I won’t make any promises, and more than likely, my hands are tied. What are you going to do about yourself?”

  “The girls are more important. Even if . . . I have to go back to jail. I want you to help them.”

  I wanted to help the girls and Nathan. He showed he loved me and always placed those he cared about first. He’d done it for me countless times. I needed to do right by him. Even if it meant losing everything.

  Nathan

  Another emergency call had me busy after I left Shana’s home. I understood she was afraid of more charges and going to jail, and that was why she didn’t report anything or share it with me. I couldn’t help my disappointment. Still, I had to do my job. I’d stand by her because I loved her, but what I needed more than anything was a real break in her case.

  I went to the station to file my report. After pouring a coffee to curb my exhaustion, I headed to my cubicle. Dad had left a handwritten case number for the theft. He expected me to share what I learned from Shana to help the prosecution, something I wouldn’t have hesitated to do until now.

  I typed, erased what I wrote, then cleared the monitor and cursed. My emotions were twisted up, mostly guilt. I wanted to protect Shana. More than that, I wanted justice. She had me conflicted, and that was wrong.

  I decided to write a small brief, and when I went to save it in her report, I found a new statement from her. She not only reported seeing the stolen compact but noted Amber’s cocaine use with it as well.

  Perhaps what Maeve did worked. Or she felt remorse for the girls. Either way, it warmed my heart and eased my distress to find she’d done the right thing. In a reasonable world, we’d have a probable cause for a search on Amber. However, thefts weren’t priorities unless it was a significant amount. Still, I put in a request for a stop and search on her vehicle.

  Shana’s lawyer also stopped by and submitted the photos she’d given him from the night at the club. In the evidence room, I
made a request to examine the images. I couldn’t leave with them, but the officer brought the file for me to look through at the desk.

  Some of the photos were the same ones she’d sent to me by phone, but there was a new one there I hadn’t seen of Shana and Amber dancing with Skelly. Who took the photo? Something about it bothered me.

  I asked for a magnifying glass and looked it over again. The bottom of the screen caught my eye. I called over a fellow officer, Lyle, to take a closer look.

  “What do you notice in the photo of the purse?” I asked.

  Lyle laughed. “Come on, man, who cares about the purse? She’s fucking hot.”

  He ogled Shana’s low-cut boob shot. I clenched my jaw. “I didn’t ask for your fucking opinion on how she looks. I asked you to look at the purse. It’s important. Do you see a purple baggie in the purse here, spilling over on the floor?”

  He bent closer and scanned the image. “No.”

  “Thanks.”

  I sent him away.

  Someone could argue that she had someone else distributing the drugs, but it still gave more doubt. Even so, Shana had evidence the drugs weren’t on her. I added a note in her file with the evidence number of the photo. Although, with the theft and cocaine, I didn’t know how it would help.

  Grant appeared above the cubicle divider and came around to speak.

  “I don’t know if you are aware yet, but Shana came in and provided a statement. I’m sorry to hear about what happened.”

  I rubbed my sore neck. “I am too. I don’t think I could take any more bad news right now.”

  “Lucky for you, there is a break in her case,” he said.

  I rubbed my tired eyes. “Oh yeah?”

  “According to Ambrose, you’ll like it. He’s just back.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  Grant tapped my shoulder and moved on. He didn’t ask me anything else, and I appreciated it.

  I went to check on the progress of Shana’s drug-seizure case. The most recent entry had a more detailed report on the toxicology content of heroin. It had traces of fentanyl. The content combination was similar to a previously confiscated batch from a bust made earlier in the year. That removed all links to Bridget’s death. And therefore, her connection to the drugs hung by a thread.

  I rose from my seat and went to find Stetson and Ambrose.

  “I know why you’re here. Nothing hit on the people you gave me except for Evan Jensen,” Stetson said.

  “Evan Jensen?” I asked.

  “Yep, him,” he confirmed. “He had some financial problems and expulsion from a prep school for dealing cocaine. I don’t know how, but the case was under seal because it involved another agency’s case. Ambrose used his contact over there to help us here.”

  “Good on Ambrose.” The situation seemed convenient, but not out of probability. Grant was right. The information was a break for Shana.

  “That’s enough to give reasonable doubt on one of the suspects. Can we get a warrant to search his home?” I asked, but knew the answer.

  “We can’t use a sealed minor case to issue a warrant. Evan’s residence is listed in his parents’ name, and they won’t allow any searches of their house. We’d have to have a lot more evidence to get a judge to agree to a warrant. They just sent their baby boy abroad. Unless something breaks soon, we’re looking at a dead end.”

  We needed more to clear Shana’s name, or she’d leave. She may leave anyway, even if I love her.

  Her lawyer had enough that he could submit a request for an early hearing and possible dismissal. The judge could dismiss with prejudice, meaning if something else with those drugs came up, it could still go back to her. On the other hand, it would be enough for her to move on with her life. She’d be gone soon.

  As I’d said to Shana in front of her mom, I wanted her to live. In the short time, she’d been back in Sunnyville, I’d had her drama, but my life was more vibrant with her in it. She also deserved to know we had more information that might help her. I wished for her freedom and happiness. If only she’d found it with me. It looked like I’d be going to Jackson’s memorial event after all.

  Her mom hadn’t uninvited me, so I left to pick up my tux from the dry cleaners.

  Aidan was at my house when I arrived home. Whenever I felt down, I preferred Maeve and Mom, but we needed to get back on track, and he had been avoiding coming over here after his confrontation with Shana.

  “So, you’re off to the Callahans’ party?” he asked.

  I sighed. “You can go too if you want. I hear the whole town’s going.”

  “I know,” he said, holding up his military uniform. “Shana’s dad invited me. Probably thought it would make him look good.”

  “He obviously doesn’t know you,” I teased, and we laughed.

  “Anyway, I’m sorry about Shana. She’s a trouble magnet, but she’s enjoyable to have around.”

  “True. Shana is, but I love her anyway.”

  We left it at that. I didn’t want to mourn her. All I wanted to do was see her. “Thanks for being here.”

  He dropped his suit and hugged me. “Anytime, little brother.”

  I handed the valet the keys outside the Callahans’ front gate. We followed the colorful lights to the backyard where a New Orleans jazz band played among the 1920s Mardi Gras atmosphere.

  I searched the crowd of who’s who in Sunnyville and saw Shana serving. I shook my head and grinned. Of course, she’d serve anyway. Even dressed in the standard white shirt and pencil skirt, she stood out as beautiful. I’d never get enough of staring at her and seeing her smile. Every smile took my heart and made me fall deeper in love with her. Just like the Ella Fitzgerald song playing, I Got It Bad. I loved her crazy.

  I placed myself in the path to take a shrimp from her tray. Aidan came over.

  “I just want to apologize for being an ass to you,” he said and held out his hand for her to take.

  “I’ve got a tray, but . . .” She touched elbows with him. “No worries. I’m already over it.”

  “I hope the best for you, and my brother is the best,” he said and winked at her.

  “No pressure then,” she said, and he shrugged, hitting my shoulder. “See you later.”

  “Thanks,” I called after him.

  “Remember Jackson’s New Orleans trip?” I asked.

  She laughed loudly, and my heart skipped a beat. “Oh, and that goth girl who claimed to steal his blood with a kiss?”

  “Good times . . . I have something to share with you,” I said, my voice serious.

  “Not now. I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to celebrate Jackson tonight,” she said.

  “Okay if you dance with me?” The words were out before I could think about them.

  She lit up, then dropped her shoulders. “I don’t want to bring attention to myself now. I mean, everyone in town is here and people talk. They already know about the theft at the group home. It’s like some town crier picks up every little thing that goes on here and broadcasts it.”

  I had to agree with that, but not enough to let her bow out of the dance.

  “This is your parents’ home, and I’d be damned if I’d let anyone treat you less than the queen you are.”

  “Nate, you’re still mad at me.” Her eyes darted around to hide it, but I know she’d been hurt by what I said to her.

  “I am, but you did the right thing. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. Let’s celebrate by letting me dance with the most beautiful woman here.”

  She tried to stop smiling but lost. “You just don’t ever give up.”

  “You don’t want me to.”

  She gave someone her tray, and I took her hand and led her to the grass near the stage.

  The band started playing The Dixie Cups’ Iko-Iko. Dancing with Shana had always been an active sport. She jumped around with her hands up. I got caught up in her carefree style, and I let myself go, spinning her around and dipping her. We gave the
Sunnyville crowd something to wag their tongues about. The best part was watching Shana, playful, sexy, and beautiful. Every move she made captivated me. Our gazes locked, and I knew she felt what we had. Without a doubt, we were good together.

  The music stopped, and her mom took to the small stage. Her dad stood behind her. I couldn’t help but think that Shana should be up there with them.

  “Thank you all for gathering here with us. Today is the anniversary of when we lost our beautiful and talented son, Jackson. He loved to celebrate, and tonight we celebrate him. Let’s all enjoy ourselves and live our lives to the fullest.”

  A slideshow of Jackson’s life in photos started. I squeezed Shana’s waist, and she put her head on my shoulder. Then, the truth came to me. She could have gone up on the stage, but she’d stayed with me. While most of the images were of Jackson alone, others showed his Shadow, Shana. From birth to his last night on earth. You could see the love he had for us and the love we had for him.

  “I need a moment. I’ll catch up to you later.”

  “Okay,” I let her go and watched her run into the house.

  The music returned and played Nina Simone’s Little Lizzy Jane. I decided to find Aidan.

  He wasn’t outside. I headed toward the house, and a pair of hands circled my waist.

  “Why don’t you like me?”

  I pulled Amber’s hands off my body. “Because you’re selfish and spoiled.”

  “So is Shana. She lied about me stealing from the group home to cover her ass.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “She didn’t lie. You’d rather she ruins her life to cover for what you did?”

  She tugged on her necklaces. “You sound so dramatic. I borrowed the stupid plastic compact. I left. I didn’t take anything else.”

  “Why the hell are you here if she’s a rat, and you’re not friends?” I mocked.

  “Duh, it’s a party.”

  I stared at her hand. In the middle of a bunch of necklaces was a string of pearls that looked familiar. Mrs. Callahan’s? She’d had them on when I saw her outside with Shana.