“Is this about Hate Crimes?” Kerry asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier. I’d like to—I’d be honored to be a part of it.”
“Well, I’m sorry to tell you that you won’t get the chance.”
“What?” Kerry stopped herself, trying to phrase her surprise and disappointment in a more eloquent way. “How?” Forget about eloquent for a moment.
“We got a call from the governor himself.” Lieutenant Fairbanks looked around, casting a longing glance at the captain’s coffeemaker, before she sat in his chair. “It’s kind of remarkable how politicians want to play doctors without any qualifications but, let’s say, their rampant sexism. They want in on police business for no other reason than to piss people off and keep them from doing their work, as it seems. I’ll tell you what he said. ‘There are crimes and we have cops to solve them. Not everything is a social experiment.’ As much as I applaud the Greenes for their efforts, they don’t make it easier for some of us.”
“He cut funding,” Kerry said. “Wow. How about your boss? Can’t he do anything about it?”
Fairbanks gave her a wry grin that indicated Kerry wasn’t the first to think of that solution. “What do you think?”
“Can’t—or won’t?”
“It was a long and bitter conversation. Well, the latter, mostly for me. I swear there are some people who have no argument, but perfected the way of repeating their talking points a million times with such conviction, it’s stunning. So, how about all those poor men who will face lawsuits because they made a joke about their girlfriend who thinks it’s a hate crime? If a member of my team happens to be LGBT, aren’t they going to be prone to discriminate against straight people? Oh, of course it would be my right not to hire them in the first place, because, as you know, we have no protections against discrimination based on sexual orientation. This is how I spent the last few days. I wish your captain had offered me use of his coffeemaker as well.”
Fairbanks’ frustration was palpable, confronting Kerry with another uncomfortable truth aside from her disappointment. She had always perceived her unit as a safe place. As a woman, she was still part of a minority, but she didn’t think anyone cared about her sexual orientation. Not Jepsen, not any of the detectives she worked with. Those who knew didn’t seem to care, though not everyone knew—the idea that she could get fired on a whim if there were any structural changes, was sobering, to say the least.
“I’m thinking of joining Exodus,” she said. Every day, new facts about Miller and the people who had put him into power, emerged. They made the idea of leaving everything behind more and more appealing.
“Run away from home? Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too,” Fairbanks admitted. “The Greenes have said very little about how they will handle security questions—during the great Exodus and once everyone has arrived. I don’t mean to be petty about it, but it sounds like some sort of—feminist rapture?”
Kerry couldn’t help laugh at the term. “There’s something to that, no doubt. They’ll engage private security as well as the police force. There’s a town hall meeting later this week. Why don’t you come?”
“I might. I really need to see something moving in the right direction for a change, and the farther away from Miller, the better.”
“Good. Let’s have that coffee now. I’ll be responsible.”
“Perfect.” Fairbanks let out a frustrated sigh. “You and I know, hell, every good cop knows, that every day people are targeted because of their gender, race, or sexual orientation. It would be good do have a local team in place. You know what’s the worst? Miller knows it too, but he doesn’t care. I want to see the Exodus project succeed for many reasons, but knowing it would be a slap in the face of those clowns? Priceless.”
Kerry couldn’t agree more.
* * * *
“I’m glad we finally can talk about this in person,” Governor Charlene King said, reaching out a hand to greet Hilary and Marc. “Mrs. Greene, Mr. Greene. Welcome.” She motioned for them to sit.
Hilary was seldom intimidated, less so by a politician, but she had to admit the governor always made an impression. Maybe that was because she had to learn to become pretty much fearless too. King was a little more to the center than Hilary and Marc would have liked, but they agreed on most fundamental issues. They had been involved in her campaign, and after that initial phone call, Hilary was slightly optimistic that they would continue to peacefully co-exist.
“We are glad too,” she said. “I assume you have a few questions for us.”
“I have one that’s priority over the others. There are still too many people in my state looking for work. I want to be sure that Exodus will help with this problem, not make it worse.”
“That’s in our interest too,” Hilary assured her. “We have always hired locally and will continue to do so. Where we bring in new personnel, we’ll make sure to make the most use of company-owned land.”
“There’s a limit to that, isn’t there? Unless you’re planning to buy the whole state, bit by bit.” There was no suspicion in King’s tone, only curiosity.
“I can assure you we aren’t planning that,” Marc said. “There won’t be one big rush of people either. Exodus is a project against ignorance. It’s supposed to be the spark—and it will bring attention to all the improvements you’ve made, and the quality of living that comes with fair laws. It will be a win-win situation. We will build something big. Actually, as you know, we’ve begun years ago, and a lot of people will be trained and employed in the process, right here.”
Hilary could tell King was still somewhat torn. “Of course, it would be easier to assist with your re-election campaign too.”
The governor shook her head. “I know you mean well, Hilary, and you both know I value your contribution. It’s fair to say you helped a great deal to get me here, but that’s not the reason for me to throw my support behind Exodus. I put the future of my people over my chances for re-election. I believe this project will jolt many people awake and make them aware of what we have achieved here and will continue to do so, and what’s at stake elsewhere. Now, let’s talk hard facts.”
* * * *
It had been a short night when Kerry shook her awake gently, whispering “We don’t want to be late.”
Vivien felt confused for a moment. The events of last night came back to her. There would be no Hate Crimes unit. In the middle of that conversation, Tasha had called, in tears once more. They had promised to see her once they’d be back from their trip with Marc and Hilary, but wanted to check on her quickly before going to the airport.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and stretched, wondering if a decision had already been made before they’d even seen one of the houses Hilary had talked about.
Kerry slipped under the covers with her for a moment longer, holding her close. They were both taking a day off to join their rich friends on a trip, while the world around them was crumbling. If that wasn’t a sign…
“I thought you said we’d be late,” she said, while unwilling to leave the warmth of the embrace.
“Yeah. Coffee’s ready.”
Vivien rewarded her with a quick kiss. “I love you for that.”
“Just for that?”
Things heated up quickly, and when they arrived at Tasha’s a half hour later, they were indeed pressed for time, despite skipping breakfast. Vivien was guiltily relieved they had taken those few moments to themselves, to reconnect, to remind themselves what, and whom, they were fighting for.
Tasha was in bad shape. There were subtle hints, like the somewhat messy apartment. Of course, you couldn’t keep it catalogue-like with a pre-school aged kid and another on the way, but Tasha was usually pretty neat. It wasn’t negligence that made her slip up. The more obvious sign spelling trouble was her nervous demeanor, jumping up every few minutes as if to check on something, her rushed speech.
“Oh God, I wish Ethan was here already. Can’t you do something about this? Can
I sue anyone?”
“I’m afraid this is the law now,” Kerry said. “Is there someone who could stay with you, just for a couple of days or so, until things calm down?”
Tasha shook her head, her eyes bright with tears about to fall. “Everyone’s at work or busy with their own families. I can’t bother them.”
Vivien could tell Kerry was uncomfortable leaving Tasha all by herself. What to do?
“Why don’t I call Hilary quickly and ask her if we can bring Tasha and Bobby?”
“Oh no,” Tasha protested. “I can’t take him out of daycare and don’t get me started on planes. There’s no way. Listen, girls, thank you for stopping by. You go on that trip. I’ll be fine.” She practically gasped for breath on the last words which wasn’t reassuring at all.
Kerry cast her a doubtful look, and Tasha laughed uneasily. “Don’t go into cop mode on me, okay? I’ll just go and leave comments on Miller’s Facebook page to vent. They’ll get removed pretty much right away, but if one person sees them, my work is done.”
They couldn’t stay much longer, otherwise they would miss the flight. Vivien opened her purse only to realize that there were some copies in it, of the brochures and signup forms. She handed Tasha one each. “Why don’t you look at those in the meantime?”
* * * *
“Aren’t you careful about whom you give your information to?” the woman on the radio, head of a conservative group, asked. “Have you seen those signup forms for,” her voice was dripping with contempt when she said the word “Exodus? What are the Greenes going to do with all that personal information?”
Breaking News: Congresswoman Annette LeBlanc said to introduce bill that could stop Exodus in its tracks. The giant screen displaying news in the waiting area at the airport showed the California congresswoman talking to reporters. “I will not let my constituents down,” she vowed.
LeBlanc’s announcement was not surprising, Vivien thought, but as long as they had the governor on their side, it was nothing but a lot of hot air.
Chapter Twelve
Hilary and Marc didn’t seem to be much concerned about LeBlanc’s proposal, so Kerry wasn’t going to worry about it either. For the moment, she wanted to enjoy the impromptu trip with Vivien. They had done whatever they could for whoever needed their attention at the moment—and truth be told, she was excited. Part of that dream belonged to her.
Even back when they’d been in college, Hilary had been super-rich, but she’d been trying to downplay it the best she could. There had always been those people who wanted to hang around because Hilary would pay, not because she was a smart and funny person who was just plain fun and inspiring to be with. After spending most of her life, at that time, with an irresponsible father and a mother struggling to make ends meet, Kerry valued fun and inspiration, in the search for options that would help her make a difference, in her own life and others. Having Hilary provide a custom-made home had never crossed her mind, but here she was, at the crossroads with her convictions and the possible implications for their friendship.
“Don’t worry,” Hilary had said before she had advised to driver to bring Kerry and Vivien to the addresses of houses they were going to see. “I’m a friendly landlady, but I will expect your monthly check.”
Walking into the first house, Kerry wondered how much the numbers would have to be corrected for her and Vivien to afford this space, and if they deserved this special treatment in the first place. She thought Vivian’s quiet gasp was an appropriate reaction to the open space, kitchen and dining area, a den with a view of the ocean in the distance.
“This is exactly the kind of bribery we feared it would be,” Vivien whispered to her as they followed the real estate agent up the stairs to the bedrooms. “It’s a good thing we’re not politicians, huh?”
“We’re still going to pay,” Kerry reminded her.
“Yeah. Money can do beautiful things,” Vivien said, pensive. “Have you seen the fireplace?”
“There’s another one in the master bedroom,” the real estate agent said, startling them. “Not that you’ll need it often, but it adds nicely to the atmosphere.”
“I imagine.”
Room after room, the subtle luxury of the place revealed itself, luring them in.
“Mrs. Greene has been working closely with the designer.” No surprise there. “I understand you still have some reservations, but think about this—If you’re going to play a pivotal role in the Exodus project, you will need some space to work with, where you can retreat to and clear your mind. It’s not a gift. You’ll pay the mortgage you’ll negotiate with Mr. and Mrs. Greene. You just pay it here instead of in your home state.”
Kerry had the sudden vision of her and Vivien taking their child to play on the beach, invite friends for a quiet evening in that fabulous space downstairs.
“Can we see one of the apartments for the employees that come with Greene Industries?” she asked, and Vivien, instantly understanding where she was headed, chimed in, “I’d love to see them too.”
The agent looked a bit confused. “But with your combined income…”
“Is it okay for us to see them or not?”
“Sure. I suppose it’s all right.”
They all got back into the car, and the driver, unfazed by the change of plans, maneuvered them along new construction sites and completed buildings along the way. It took a lot longer than she had expected, and Kerry came to the startling realization that all of this was owned by the Greenes. A communist fantasy, as some of the opponents had alleged, this was not.
* * * *
“How can you be certain your wife is not signing up for Exodus right this moment, trying to make sure you’ll never see your kids again?”
“Imagine the girl you had fun with last night turning around and crying rape? What’s going to happen? The Greenes will give her a high-priced lawyer and you can kiss your future goodbye?”
Annette LeBlanc: The people of California deserve better than to be held hostage in some anarchist utopia. We will not let that happen.
Joanie held the printouts in shaking hands, her path to freedom. This time, it was going to happen. She was not going to turn around. She didn’t have much time though. Rob only went to the store around the corner, going for cigarettes, and he’d be back after a few minutes, possibly finding someone to complain about her on the way. She didn’t know why she’d let him back in—for any reason other than she always did, but the forms the cop had given her would make a difference. They pushed a back door wide open for her. Whether she used it or not, it was an option that had never existed for Joanie before, not in this relationship, or any of the ones before.
She started to fill in her information. It seemed like an impossible dream, just go, leave everything she knew here, behind, start a new life. Work, qualifications, she was surprised that she had actually something to say something in that section. It was tough. Her current boss was possibly the most neutral person in her life. She hadn’t experienced a lot of negativity there, just the occasional raised eyebrow when she had to take just another leave of absence or futilely tried to hide a black eye behind make-up. Joanie had never received a lot of positive feedback either, and when the person you thought you loved called you “worth shit,” it was hard to learn to think otherwise. For a moment, she dreamed of a friendly office, co-workers who weren’t talking behind her back in hushed tones, pitying her. A warmer climate. A place of her own, where Rob would never find her.
It was nothing more than that, a dream. He’d said he would kill her if she tried to get away from him once more, then laughed. At least she’d been able to convince him that it had been the hospital, not her, who pressed charges. Somehow, he was always able to weasel himself out of trouble and blame someone else. In the beginning, Rob had promised, a time or two, that it wouldn’t happen again, those uncontrollable rages when she could do nothing right.
Joanie flinched when the door slammed shut.
“Hey, what
you doing?” he asked. She didn’t need to turn around. The feel of his looming presence was enough to make her break into a cold sweat.
“Nothing.” She quickly slid the form underneath some flyers that had come in the mail, for better health care and a cruise in the Caribbean. Joanie could have used both.
“What’s that?” he asked, suspicious. God, don’t let him be mad.
“I told you, noth—” She tried to duck when he hit her on the side of the head, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to go, ever.
“What the fuck?” Rob had found the form, and he was angry, his face reddening. Joanie hefted her gaze to the floor.
“Who do you think you are?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not going.”
“Damn right, your lazy ass is going nowhere!” He tore the sheets in two, hurling them at her. “This stinks. Who asked you to do this? The police?”
All of a sudden, her mind was blank, the familiar feel of paralysis creeping in. She didn’t know what to answer to that, what answer would placate or upset him even more. Joanie assumed that the detective who had given her the forms could take care of herself, but she didn’t want to take the chance that Rob could do something crazy.
“I don’t know. I think they came in the mail, with the rest of—”
“You’re lying!” he yelled, making her cringe. “Every word that comes out of your stupid mouth is a fucking lie!” He hit her again before she could say anything to defend herself, in the face this time. Please, not again. She couldn’t go to the hospital again, face the sympathetic scrutiny of the staff, miss more work days.
“It’s true,” she insisted, tasting blood on her lips. “Please, stop. I need to go to work tomorrow. We need the money, don’t we?”
“I need you to shut up. Will you shut up already?” The blow made her chair topple over, a sharp pain exploding at the back of her head. Joanie wished she could pass out and preferably never wake up, but it didn’t happen.
She could always tell when there was a minute change in his demeanor, like now, the grin appearing on his face chilling her to the bone. She tried to scramble backwards, get up, get to a phone, get out. A whimper escaped her lips, a sound Joanie had tried hard to keep in, because it always made things worse.
The Exodus Strategy Page 13
