by Tessa Walton
The Rookie
Boys in Blue
Tessa Walton
Sweet Laurel Publishing LLC
Copyright © 2018 by Sweet Laurel Books LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
It all started when Dove was vacuuming the carpet. She was creating clear, vertical lines across the short tan fibers. She had the television on in the background, but she couldn’t hear it over the screeching of the machine.
She wasn’t sure what made her look at the window. Perhaps it was true, that someone staring at you always caused you to look. She didn’t see much. A flash of black flew across the window. At first she thought it may have been a raven. She turned the vacuum off for a minute, resting the handle upward, and the sound of the television filled the room. Some game show with contestants a bit too loud for Dove’s liking. She walked to the window.
A person, in all black, was running out of the yard. She barely got a glimpse of him before he ducked behind Peterson’s house and weaved out of sight. She wasn’t sure what exactly to do with what had happened. No one was hurt and nothing was stolen, and yet she had the idea that something was wrong. But she told herself that maybe it was nothing, that maybe people shouldn’t cut through her yard, but they did anyway, and she had nothing to worry about.
Nate had waited his whole life for his first day on the force. He walked into the precinct, already in uniform, and up to the secretary’s desk. A Chloe Fair. “Uh, hi,” he said. “I’m here for my first day on the job.” He wasn’t really sure what he was meant to do from this point.
“Go knock on the chief’s door, and he’ll see you when he’s ready,” she answered.
Nate obeyed, and when he knocked, someone shouted, “Come in.” He walked into the door. The man sitting behind the desk was large and stoic. “You must be Officer O’Bannon. I’m Chief Diamond.” He stood up and offered an oversized hand. Nate shook it.
“I am going to lead you to your partner. She’ll show you around.” Chief Diamond led him out the door, and to a large, wide woman in a uniform a bit too tight.
“Is this the guy?” The woman held out a hand. “Jessica Daniels. Nice to meet you.”
Nate shook her hand. “Nathaniel O’Bannon. I guess we’re partners.”
“Well, I’ll teach you all you need to know. Coffee’s over there.” She pointed. “Wi-Fi password is written in the break room, and don’t get shot.”
“Don’t get shot. Got it.” Nate said. He couldn’t quell the butterflies in his chest. He had a feeling this would be a very good change for him.
Chapter One
“But I swear the shutters twitched!” Dove was getting more and more hysterical each time she got ignored.
“The shutters twitched?” Nathaniel asked, raising an eyebrow. At first, he had wanted to believe Dove. She was a beautiful woman, all blonde hair and blue eyes, and a well-respected teacher. But now things were beginning to get ridiculous. Being paranoid once and calling the cops was understandable. It happened from time to time, Nate was told by some of the older officers. But this was far more than once. More than twice, in fact. The third call in a week. He had half a mind to stop answering them.
“Look, right here. This shutter wouldn’t move on its own. And—And there was a face. Look, you have to believe me. Someone is watching me. I can feel it.” She pointed to one of the dark green shutters, as if just their existence proved her point. Nate looked everywhere but the window, trying to convey his boredom. She had a small stack of books on an end table, each book containing a napkin bookmark, and a couple pairs of shoes set neatly in front of the couch.
Nate knew some cops operated by feeling, but he wasn’t one of those cops. He operated by evidence. There was no evidence anything was going on, so he had no reason to believe her. That was all there to it.
“Well, I think that’s all I need for my report, Mrs. Babcock,” he said.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Dove?”
“At least once more, Mrs. Babcock,” he responded in his most even, unaltered voice. He hoped that conveyed the boredom and annoyance he was feeling.
“Right,” she said, and Nathaniel showed himself to the door.
Dove locked the door behind him. Both locks, in fact. The click of the locks was solid and metallic, promising safety. She didn’t know that she trusted them, though. Even as the lock clicked in place, there was a temporary feeling behind them. She didn’t know how something could feel temporary, but it did. She wondered, not for the first time, if she was listening too much to her feelings. But there had been a face. She was certain. A male face, with short hair and a straight nose. She hadn’t really gotten a good look, but enough to know she didn’t know him, enough to know she didn’t want to.
She grabbed her phone. There wasn’t a point in calling the police again, no matter what she saw. Teressa, though, maybe she could help her. At the very least, she’d feel more safe with someone else at the house. She found the contact and pressed “call.” As it was ringing, she wondered exactly what she would say. She didn’t have much time to think about it before the woman picked up, though.
“Dove? You okay?” Teressa said when she answered.
“It happened again,” Dove explained, breathless.
“I’ll be right over,” Teressa said. She hung up. Dove wished she had stayed on the line. She didn’t think she had ever been so paranoid, even when it came to the monster under the bed in childhood. She needed someone with her every second, but she had no parent’s bed to crawl into.
Dove jumped when a car pulled up, but when she tentatively peeked out the window, it was just Teressa. She walked over and unlocked the door for her friend. “Thanks for coming,” she said, letting in her slim, naturally pretty friend.
“Of course. Jeff can handle the diner for a bit,” she said. “What happened?”
“He opened the shutter. I got a glimpse of him this time,” she explained, shivering.
“Enough to recognize him later?” Teressa asked.
“Maybe not. Enough to know I don’t recognize him.”
“Did you call the police again?”
“Yeah, but it was that Officer O’Bannon again. He doesn’t seem to care.” Dove didn’t exactly hate him—she knew he was just doing his job—but he didn’t even take her seriously. It would only make sense to be angry.
“The black guy with the big muscles and bald head?”
“That
’s the one.”
“Maybe you should come stay with me for a few days,” Teressa suggested.
“I’m not letting him scare me out of my own home.” Dove tried to sound brave and confident, but in reality she was just afraid to put Teressa in danger. She wondered if maybe that was bravery of its own kind.
“So what do you want me to do?” Teressa asked.
“Just stay here for a bit,” she answered.
“I can—” Teressa started to say, but then there was a knock on the door. The women looked at each other, and Dove walked and tentatively unlocked the door.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Flower delivery,” a man answered. She opened the door. He held out a dozen red roses. The flowery smell hit her hard, and she saw drops of water on the petals. “Ms. Babcock?” he asked.
“That’s me,” she said, and signed on the clipboard offered. He turned and left. Dove shut and locked the door again, then glanced at the card. She dropped the flowers, creating a soft, mushy sound as they hit the hardwood floors.
“What is it?” Teressa asked.
Dove showed her the card. I see you. No name; just three simple words.
“We need to take this to the cops,” Teressa said, picking up the flowers.
Dove didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say.
Teressa put a hand on her arm. “Come on. It’s going to be okay. They’ll take you seriously now.” She began leading Dove to the door.
“What if they don’t?” Dove asked. “What if he’s out there?”
“Then I’ll protect you,” Teressa answered.
Dove let herself be led out of the house, then struggled with the keys to lock up. It clanged against the metal a couple of times, then slipped in before turning. She got both locks, then walked to the car.
“No, you’re upset,” Teressa said. “I’m driving.”
Dove knew better than to argue when Teressa knew what she wanted. She climbed in the passenger seat of the red four-door and buckled up mechanically. She wasn’t safe. That much was clear. She wasn’t safe, and no one believed her. She barely breathed, but didn’t find herself panicking. She was too shocked even for that.
“Do you think it’s Harold?” Teressa asked.
“No, we got divorced years ago. You’d think he’d be over it. Besides, I’d definitely recognize him.”
“Oh yeah. Well, maybe he hired someone to scare you.”
“You think so?” Dove asked. It was true that Harold wasn’t exactly over it. Still, what reason would he have to scare her? Just because he could?
They pulled up to the police station. It was a large brick building with a bright blue sign. One of the lights was out, and the grass in front of the building wasn’t cut evenly. Teressa grabbed the flowers and card off the space between their seats. She walked inside the police station, Dove trailing behind her. Dove wondered how this would be any different.
The police station was a jumble of desk and guns. People sat around, drinking coffee and writing reports. Her eyes fell to the uniforms and the suits, trying to differentiate people of different statuses. She felt Teressa behind her, and that calmed her. The need to panic was subsiding in her chest. They would believe her now.
“We have a report to file,” Teressa said, holding up the flowers. Dove stood slightly behind her without really noticing it.
Nathaniel walked over to them. “What now?” he asked, rolling his eyes at Dove.
“Excuse me, is that how you talk to your citizens?” Teressa asked. “She is traumatized and is being threatened.”
“Seeing your shutter twitch in the wind is hardly a threat.”
“Look at the card that came with the flowers,” Teressa said, shoving it into his face. Dove watched Nathaniel read it. She had hoped to see some understanding across his face, some belief.
Instead, he stayed blank. “If you made this up, I can charge you.”
“It’s real,” Dove interjected. “You could go to the flower shop and ask.”
“I’m not sure that this is exactly a threat. More of a statement, really.”
“Can’t you just go talk to the flower shop?” Teressa asked. “See who bought the flowers?”
“Very well. It will be looked into,” Nathaniel said.
“Thank you.”
Chapter Two
Nathaniel watched the women leave. Thank goodness. He went and found his partner, Jessica Daniels. “Guess we’re making a run to the flower shop,” he told her.
“Oh? You picking me up something nice?”
“No, Dove just came with flowers with a threatening note.”
“Do you think this means she’s not making it up?”
“I’m half-inclined to say she got them delivered herself to get our attention,” Nate said.
Jessica chuckled. “Well, let’s just go see who bought the flowers. Who knows? Maybe we’ll be surprised.” Nate wanted to do no such thing, but Jennifer was the senior officer, and he knew he had to take her seriously.
They walked out to the car and Nate climbed in the driver’s seat. It was pushed all the way back to accommodate his large frame. Nate normally drove, so the car was all set up for him. He also kept it perfectly clean. They got to the Best Wishes Flower Shop in the space of a few minutes.
“Well, let’s hope it’s nothing,” Nate said. He stepped out of the vehicle and pulled up his belt before walking into the store. Jessica followed him.
In reality, Nate wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be nothing. He just had begun being a rather small-time cop, and wanted a bit of action. But Ashford Falls was a quiet town, and Dove seemed a little … imaginative. She taught grade school, after all. Weren’t grade-school teachers always trying to teach their students imagination? But a bit of something, no real danger to anyone, just something to do, that could be fun.
The Best Wishes Flower Shop had a perfectly decorated window showing off his flowers. It was all geared up for Valentine’s Day, rose petals gathered around the bottom and beautiful bouquets of red and white gracing the glass. Inside, it was just it pretty, but much more scented. The smell of flowers filled Nate’s nose, and he coughed, thinking it would never leave. It wasn’t exactly a bad smell, but much too powerful to be enjoyable, at least to Officer O’Bannon. The light shone through the window, glinting on the big, round glasses of Theodore, and filtering through the scent of the flower petals.
“How can I help you fine officers?” Theodore asked with a grin.
“We need records of all the roses you’ve sold her recently,” Jessica said, in her no-funny-business tone.
“Well, now, it’s practically Valentine’s Day. We’ve sold all the roses in stock and then some.”
“These were delivered today. And there was a note.”
“Well, we don’t keep track of notes, but do you happen to know where it was delivered to? That would narrow it down quite a bit.”
Jessica flipped through her notes, and Nate watched her. He generally let her take the lead, at least for now while he was learning. “332 King Street,” she answered.
Theodore walked over to the computer and pressed a few buttons. Nate thought back to Theodore selling him a corsage for prom. That was the last time he had bought flowers from him, since he had gone away for police academy, and he hadn’t had the time to get a girlfriend. He hoped to be back here again soon, but for now his main focus had to be on starting the new job.
“Well, you’re in luck. This was paid for by credit card. It was bought by a Russell Peterson.”
“Peterson?” Jessica asked. “Can we have a copy of that receipt?” Nate was surprised that he was unsurprised. Peterson was the local drunk, and only lived two doors down from Dove. If someone were to cause problems with the neighborhood women, it would be him. Theodore handed Jessica the receipt, and they went and got back into the car.
“Ready to go give Peterson a talking-to?” Jessica asked.
“Just a talking-to?” Nate asked.
“I think we’d be fine telling him if there’s any more contact we’ll hold him. Maybe go out to Babcock’s house after, and tell her she can take out a restraining order if she wishes, and to call us if there are any more problems.”
Nate agreed that that was probably the best course of action. After all, the only thing they actually had proof of was that Peterson bought Dove flowers. It wasn’t exactly convicting.
They pulled up to Peterson’s dilapidated house. It badly needed a coat of paint, and who knew how long it had been since the grass had last been cut? Jessica knocked on the door. Nate was just getting the scent of flowers out of his nose, and now Peterson opened the door and the smell of booze and body sweat filled him instead.
“Can I help you, officers?”
“Did you send flowers to Dove Babcock?” Jessica asked.
“Now, officers, I hardly think that’s a crime.”
“No, but sneaking onto private property to look in people’s windows is.”
“What? I never—”
“So you just happen to send a threatening note to her when she has been seeing people outside of her window? That’s quite a coincidence,” Nate said. He didn’t want Jessica getting in all the talking. He had to learn how to do this eventually.
“Not a coincidence. I did it as a joke. The whole town knows she’s been crying wolf; you cops aren’t exactly quiet. I figured I’d give her something to actually be scared about.”
