by Terry Keys
I strode back down to my office with a slightly-larger-than-normal grin on my face. I could tell some of the other officers who passed me were wondering why the hell I was grinning. Funny how simply smiling brought the curiosity out in people. What the hell is that guy up to? I liked letting them wonder.
As I settled at my desk, Wilcrest popped his head in my office. We man-hugged for a second, and then I filled him in on my meeting with Chief Hill.
“Is DeLuca ready to be the face of such an investigation?”
“I think so. She’s tough, Cap. And she ain’t gonna let any of those blowhards push her around. Plus, I’ll be right there with her every step of the way. It’ll be okay. Least of my concerns, actually. I’m more worried about catching them before we lose any more officers.”
Wilcrest stepped over to the door and shut it. I had a feeling his drop-in wasn’t coincidental.
He sat back down and looked up at me. Tears glistened in the corners of his eyes. He buried his face in his hands.
“Cap?”
“Listen. Go home. Kiss that pretty wife of yours and those daughters. Understand, son, that one day, before you’re ready, it’s going to be over.”
What the hell? I struggled to piece together exactly what he was trying to say, but I knew there had to be more. And I knew it wasn’t good.
I reached across the desk and touched his shoulder. “Okay. I can. I mean, I will do that. You’re holding back something though. What is it?”
“I’m dying, David,” he said, looking up at me.
It felt like a million bombs exploded inside my stomach.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been feeling less than myself lately. Kind of ignoring it or attributing it to lack of sleep and, hell, just old age. Went in for a checkup and . . . well, needless to say, I was wrong. My doctor called me in three weeks ago and informed me that I have stage four pancreatic cancer. I’m dying, David.”
I sat there for a long second and said nothing. A myriad of emotions welled up inside of me. Then finally I lashed out.
“Okay!” I said, banging a fist on the table. “Do the chemo. Do the radiation treatments. Fight it. Why the hell are you saying you’re dying? Why the hell are you giving up?”
Wilcrest’s face sunk. He didn’t speak.
“Man, I’ve never seen you quit on anything.”
“Stop. Please. This is hard enough, David. You think I want to die? I have eight grandkids, three wonderful kids, and my wife of nearly forty years. Good heavens! I got a lot to live for. Jesus, David, listen at yourself.”
Right then I knew I’d messed up. Damn it, David. Way to go. In that singular moment, all I was thinking about was me.
I put my hand back on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Cap.”
“This thing is out of my hands. It’s too far advanced. It’s in God’s hands now. If he wants me healed, I’ll be healed. If he doesn’t, I won’t be.”
I swiveled my chair around to face the window, hiding my tears. “How long?”
There was a long silence. I could hear him rustling behind me.
“The doctors are giving me six months to a year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I tried to keep my tone even and my anger hidden.
“I wanted to explore all of my options first. And quite frankly, I needed time to come to grips with this myself. Chief Hill hasn’t even been told yet. If it means anything, my own kids don’t know yet. Only Barb and me. I plan on telling them this weekend when they all come down.”
I wiped away the tears with the back of my hand and turned around to face him.
“I’m sorry. This just . . . crap! It’s just not fair.”
“I know how you feel, trust me. We put away these really bad people all day and allow them to live out their lives with three hots and a cot on taxpayers’ dimes. We see some of those assholes living sixty, seventy, eighty years. Here I am staring death in the face at fifty-seven. And I admit, at first glance it doesn’t seem fair.”
“Goddamn right it’s not!” I blurted out.
“Well, not until you dig a little deeper.”
I stared at him with a half disgusted, half confused look on my face.
“What the hell are you talking about? There is nothing fair about this. You are a good man. A family man. You work hard every day. You give back to society.”
I was on a roll. Wilcrest put his hand in the air to shush me.
“After I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I went and looked at a few numbers.”
I looked away in disgust. I couldn’t believe I was even entertaining this nonsense.
“Stop being so goddamn angry and listen to me for a minute.”
Wilcrest never raised his voice at me—ever. And he rarely cursed. So when one sentence yielded both, I figured I’d better listen.
“David, look at me, son.”
I didn’t move.
“David, each year over three million children die from starvation around the world. Did you hear that number? Listen to it again—three freaking million. That’s three million kids who’ll never have that first kiss. Never go to a party after a high school football game and get too drunk to remember how they got home. Never graduate high school. That’s three million who will never go to college. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”
I hated to admit it, but I’ll be damned if he wasn’t right. I softened my stance a bit.
“Another one-hundred-thousand children die from cancer each year. Every second—hear me on this one—every second, fifteen children die around the world. That’s about one thousand a minute, every minute of every day. Am I ready to die? Hell no. I wanted to watch my grandkids grow up—go to their baseball games, watch them graduate and get married. But I’ve lived fifty-seven wonderful years. Lord willing, I’ll make it to fifty-eight. All things considered, I’ll be happy with that.”
Even now Wilcrest was still teaching. I realized he’d had time to process it all, but he was still right. I was looking at the jar as half empty instead of considering the fifty-seven amazing years he’d been given and all the years and good times we’d spent together.
I walked around my desk, pulled Wilcrest up out of his chair, and hugged him. Neither of us said a word. We stood there for what felt like five solid minutes, neither of us bothering to wipe the tears that managed to escape and slide down our cheeks.
“I love you, David Porter. As long as you remember that nothing else matters.”
“Love you too, Cap.”
Both of us jumped as my door flew open. Standing there, looking down at a stack of papers, was a rain-soaked DeLuca, chattering a million miles an hour about the Patton murder. Neither of us said a word. Finally she stopped talking and looked up.
“Jesus Christ! I must be interrupting something,” she said taking a step back toward the door.
Wilcrest and I looked at each other and grinned. He gave me a fist bump and headed for the door.
“You aren’t interrupting anything. I was just leaving. We’re done here. And besides, no one can interrupt what’s happening here. That’s kind of the problem.”
Wilcrest laughed and shut the door behind him.
“What in the hell was that? Old man finally retiring?” DeLuca said as she pulled up a chair.
I headed back to my desk.
“So you gonna answer me? You look like someone just kicked you in the stomach.”
“Wilcrest has terminal cancer. Be gone in a year if he’s lucky. He just wanted me to hear it from him first.”
“Oh shit and here I come barging in with my big mouth. I’m sorry Porter.”
I could tell she was still searching for some consoling words to say. You know all of the standard responses to human tragedy. It’s going to be okay. You’ll heal with time. God always knows best.
“You didn’t know. Let’s just get back on this case, okay? I have some pretty big news for you from Chief Hill anyway.”
Chapter 10<
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I gave her a second to soak in what I’d just told her, let the conversation reset.
“Chief wants us to get to Jamaica see if we can find any clues. Faster we can find these two, the better. And he doesn’t want to leave any stone unturned.”
“In other words, we don’t want to leave the investigation up to the Jamaicans? That the big news?”
I wasn’t sure how she would feel about being made the lead investigator on the case.
“Well, it’s not all. Chief wants me to stay on the case but there’s one major condition.”
“What do you mean condition? And what does it have to do with me?”
“We all know that when a case involves family, policy calls for us to not be involved with it. Chief gave me a pass the last few times, but this is different. With each cop that’s killed, the coverage is going to grow. Plus, he feels like he’s rolled the dice enough by allowing me to work Stacy’s case. I decided not to push it.”
Most of the time you know when you’ve reached well enough; the problem is we hardly ever stop there. And the instant we pass that threshold, we know in our hearts it may have been one time too many. To this point, no one questioned Chief Hill or the police force for allowing me to stay on the cases involving my family members. It still wouldn’t surprise me if one day six months from now I was sitting on a panel answering questions.
“So the chief is saying he wants you off the case? I don’t understand.”
“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that. He wants me off officially, with you running the show, but behind the scenes nothings really going to change. The pressers, interviews, statements . . . for all intents and purposes, everyone outside of these walls will know you are the lead investigator on the case.”
“I’ve never done half of those things. I’ve never run a press conference or an interview with a news station. I don’t know—”
“Listen, we all have to dip our toes in at some point. There was a first time for me too, you know.”
“Yeah, but this is a ginormous case, not some kid stealing bubblegum from corner stores. It’s become a national case with national attention.”
“Trust me, I’ve got your back. I’m not going to put you out there to fail. We will rehearse each Q & A session. Besides, the chief didn’t give us a choice here. I need your help on this. If you say no, God only knows who the chief will give this assignment to next.”
I stood up and gave her a playful punch on the shoulder.
“C’mon, take a few hours to think about it. I’m headed to see Karen’s softball tryout, and then we are going to dinner. I promised her I wouldn’t miss it.”
She smiled. “I’ll think about it. Take these documents and read over them. In a nutshell, the explosive material we found was all bought online from outdoorxplosives.net. I gave them a call and gave them a list of the items used. I’m waiting on an email. What are the odds the same exact items were purchased in the same quantities by more than one person?”
“I would have to say the odds are fairly low. But they’d be pretty stupid to order it all at once or have it sent to their home address or wherever the hell they’re staying. If I had to guess, they had it sent to a post office box.”
“I have them sending me a list of anyone who’s purchased any of the items in the last six months.”
“That’s good work. You’ll have this case solved in no time. You don’t need my help,” I said with a wink and a smile.
DeLuca reached for the door knob and then she turned back to me.
“Well if I’m being honest there’s one other thing.”
I sensed something more than what she’d already told me was going on here. I gestured back to the chair in front of me.
“What else is on your mind?” I asked.
I watched her fidget with her hands. “Well I really don’t know where to start,” she said.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning of - whatever it is you are trying to say.”
“Okay. I was a junior in high school. Our first grading period in my speech class was nearing the end. The teacher had assigned speeches and my topic was something I knew nothing about. I’d spent about a week doing research and I’d practiced it probably fifty times.”
My office was never hot and usually on the cool side but I could see sweat beads forming on DeLuca’s forehead. I waited while she wiped at them.
“So what happened with your speech?”
“The speech went great.” She said.
I squinted my face.
“It is what happened during the speech that went wrong.”
I still didn’t understand and I was sure my face plainly showed that.
“I’d worn white pants to school that day. My peri. . .”
I put my hand up to stop her. “So you had an accident, no one including the teacher stopped you. Everyone made fun of you. Any of that right?”
“All of it. To make it worse someone had taken a picture with their cell phone. Before lunch the whole entire school had seen it. It was the worst day of my life. And to make it even more worse I socked the kid that took the picture. Bloodied him up real bad. He got suspended for taking the picture so we both got to spend the next week in school suspension together.”
“Wow. Thank you for sharing. That does sound pretty rough especially for a high school kid. Listen if I need to get someone else on this. . .”
She put a quick hand in the air. “No. I just wanted to let you know where my reservations were coming from. I’m gonna run now.”
Before I could get another word in, she was gone.
Chapter 11
I left the station and headed for the softball field. I hadn’t made a big deal about it, but I was excited that Karen was playing softball again. I’d learned many important life lessons from playing sports. I’d made lifelong friends and memories that would be with me forever.
I turned off I-45 into the Sportsplex and finally find a place to park.
Sitting in these stands brought back eerie memories that I wasn’t ready to face. I saw Stacy marching up and down the dugout, yelling instructions to the girls. I remembered the chatter from both the dads and moms alike and how they differed in their opinions of her. I recalled my initial reservations as well, and how I’d ultimately ignored them and my instincts.
I also thought about the randomness that made our paths cross to begin with. What were the odds that she would have been in my chemistry class in a college as big a Tech.? If she hadn’t been, I doubt we would have ever spoken. It was an auditorium class, which means there was no assigned seating. What were the chances that Stacy would be seated beside me on the day before the biggest party on campus, close enough for us to concoct our adolescent scheme?
“David? David.”
I heard someone calling my name, but I knew I was zoned out. Then I felt a familiar nudge.
“Honey, you all right?” Miranda slid over next to me. “You aren’t here. You’re a million miles away. What’s wrong?”
I reached for her hand.
“I’m here. I’m good. I’m here.”
She didn’t press it, but I could tell she wasn’t buying it either.
Karen’s batting session was next. I watched as she took some warmup cuts. She glanced in our direction, probably to make sure we were paying attention. She waggled her fingers at us and we waved back. I mouthed you got this and shot her a thumbs-up too.
Then Miranda and I sat back and watched as Karen drove ball after ball into the outfield. I could tell when she changed her attack and began peppering the infielders with too-hot-to-handle line drives. It made some of the parents gasp, while others seemed to appreciate the skill.
Karen and I had talked about using that approach to show her increased skill level at the plate. Most of the other kids simply stood at the plate and took erratic hacks at the ball. I was pretty proud watching her show off her skills.
After Karen finished, some of the parents clapped politely. As
she walked to the dugout, she looked back at me and I shot her a wink. I knew that was all she needed.
“She did great, didn’t she?” I said to Miranda.
“Yes, honey. I think she got all of my athletic talent,” she said with a smile.
“I agree. I mean where else would she have gotten it from?”
“I think you need to have a serious sit-down with Hilary.”
“About what? Something new going on?”
“She has been applying to some criminal justice programs. She has every episode of CSI known to man on the DVR and every other crime show on TV too. She brought home her course selections for next year. She enrolled in the forensic science course being offered.”
I couldn’t believe we were having a conversation about our oldest daughter and her high school courses for her senior year. Where had the time gone?
I smiled. “I’m waiting for the part I need to talk with her about.”
An elbow flew into my ribs. “I’m serious. We’ve talked about this before. You’ve got quite the reputation. You know what’s going to happen. People will always hold her to a higher standard—one she quite frankly may not be able to live up to. She’ll have enemies times two, because naturally some of these maniacs will target her just because of her last name. And it’s dangerous. I already have one cop I have to worry about coming home every day. I don’t want to make it two.”
“I understand your concerns, honey, and they’re valid, for the most part.”
“For the most part?” She gave me a sideways look.
I scooched over so her elbow wouldn’t be able to reach me this time. “Yes, for the most part. At least she knows what she wants to do. There are a million other professions that aren’t so admirable.”
“And there are a million other professions that don’t list being shot at as a job hazard.”
As a parent, I understood her concern. As a proud father, it kind of made me feel good that maybe Hil wanted to follow in my footsteps. Hell, maybe one day I could have her work for me in the Major Case Squad. Probably not, I guessed. I’d already been pushing my boundaries pretty far the last year.
I took Miranda’s hand. “Listen, I’ll sit down with Hilary and talk some of this through with her. I’ll be honest; I’m not going to try to talk her out of it. Being a police officer is an honorable, applaudable career choice. But as her father, I do need to make sure she is more than well-informed of the dangers involved. God knows she understands firsthand how close to home some of this madness can hit.”
