Accused

by Janice Cantore

  I followed the cliché—write what you know. This was what I knew. Carly is a composite, made up of qualities I see in a couple of former coworkers I truly admire. These women are still on the job, and in my opinion they are the best examples of police officers: compassionate, hardworking, brave, and professional. I tried to be like them, follow their example, but I’m not sure I was ever as adept at the job as they are. They are both married to fellow officers (no cheaters!), and watching them and their spouses and knowing all the different things they dealt with also influenced my stories.

  Why did you choose a fictional city as your setting for the Pacific Coast Justice series rather than a real city? What were the benefits? What were the difficulties?

  I wasn’t certain I could write about Long Beach in a way that would ring true. Plus, I didn’t want anyone to think I was writing about them specifically because I wasn’t. I had no ax to grind, had no horrible problems with the department.

  The benefit to creating Las Playas was I could make the place into anything I wanted. No one could say, “Hey! Chestnut doesn’t go there!” or “That address is my house.” It wasn’t really difficult; it was limited only by my imagination.

  Accused involves quite a few crooked figures. How widespread is corruption in real life?

  In my experience, corruption is not widespread; at least it wasn’t in Long Beach. Corruption is much more sensational in books and movies. Over the years, I’ve known officers who were fired, and usually it was for something stupid like stealing drugs from an evidence locker or lying on police reports, not some involved conspiracy. They were just individuals doing stupid things, and they didn’t think they’d get caught.

  How does a Christian cop approach his or her vocation differently than a nonbeliever might? Are there ways that faith in Christ makes it easier to do police work? Are there times when faith makes police work more difficult?

  Of the Christian officers I know, I think the big difference is that they really want to make a difference; they want to help people. This isn’t meant to imply that non-Christians don’t want to do these things, but they are more likely to look at the job as just that, a job. And unfortunately, the job can wear you down, change you. I’ve seen that happen to Christians as well as non-Christians. Marriages suffer.

  I rededicated my life to Christ shortly after I was hired on the force. I can’t imagine doing the job without faith. I handled suicides at Christmas, child abuse with dead toddlers, car crashes that shattered lives and families, and situations like one where a seven-year-old shot and killed his two-year-old brother. How do you do that without faith in a God who is good in spite of the evil in this world? I couldn’t.

  The only time I would say it was difficult for me was once after I had been on the job for about a year, when I was sent to an abortion clinic. They called because there were people—Christians—out front singing praise songs, praying, and trying to talk women out of killing their babies. I definitely sided with the Christians, but it was the clinic that called. Thankfully, everything stayed peaceful and no action was needed.

  Can you describe a pivotal moment in your career as a police officer? In your career as a writer?

  As an officer, the Rodney King riots were pivotal. I was working the day the verdict came in and remember how surreal that day was and how the riots started slow and then exploded when it got dark. The riots I’m referring to happened in Long Beach. We were definitely overshadowed by LA and the riots there, but about fourteen buildings in Long Beach were burned, including the DMV. We had looting and the National Guard also came into our city, so we had our share. I will always remember that night and the ten days that followed.

  I’m not sure if this qualifies as a pivotal moment in my writing career, but it was the best thing that happened to me. I was at a writers’ retreat and picked up a flyer about a weeklong writers’ intensive course held at the home of an author who lived in Tehachapi, about a two-hour drive from Long Beach. At that time I had never heard of Lauraine Snelling because I didn’t read much historical fiction. But I went to the intensive and learned a lot. And most of all, I developed friendships that I still maintain with Lauraine and several of the other attendees. In fact, we all get together at Lauraine’s house every June for a reunion. We encourage one another, we pray together, we brainstorm, and we support one another. I could not imagine writing without these friends in my life.

  Do all cops prefer patrol over desk work?

  No. Some guys might spend their entire career in patrol, but I think most move around. This is based on what I know after working in Long Beach. In some smaller departments, opportunities to move around might be less available. Patrol work can be very demanding, or it can be very boring, but you can go from zero to heart-stopping with the snap of a finger. It is also repetitive. By that I mean every loud music call begins to look like every other. The domestic violence calls, the disputes, become routine and tedious, so normally after about four or five years, officers want to move on. In the academy, one instructor suggested we look for a new assignment every four or five years.

  Do most cops truly believe what Carly says early in this novel: “Once a dirtbag, always a dirtbag”? As a former officer, how do you respond to that assessment?

  A lot of cops do believe that. But you need a frame of reference. Most crime is committed by repeat offenders. The vast majority of people we would contact doing bad stuff had done bad stuff before. People on probation, parole—odds were good that’s who you needed to find to clear a case. So in one respect, if you had a crime to solve, you needed to look for someone who had done that crime before. Now, I believe Christ can change anyone. And some people do change, but if they change, they’re generally not going to come across your path.

  What do you hope readers will take away from Carly’s story in Accused?

  Just that there is always hope and that Christ can and does change hearts and people.

  Discussion Questions

  1. At the beginning of this story, Carly finds herself struggling with a negative attitude, having been accused by the media of shooting an innocent man. How could she have better handled her frustrations? What would you do in her situation?

  2. Carly refuses to back off from an investigation, even defying direct orders. Is she justified in doing so? When is it acceptable to oppose authority? How can one make certain whether such a decision, such an attitude, is right or wrong?

  3. For a long time, Carly considers it impossible to forgive Nick, let alone forget the way he betrayed her. Have you ever been so wounded that you struggled to forgive? How did you address that hurt? How did you respond—or how are you responding—to the person who hurt you? Read and discuss Colossians 3:12-13. What makes these verses difficult to live out?

  4. In what ways were Nick and Carly untrue to their marriage vows? Do you think it is wise or healthy for them to reconcile?

  5. Sergeant Altman appreciates the pace of juvenile investigations, but Carly finds it dull and stifling. What should our outlook be when we find ourselves in unfulfilling roles or tasks?

  6. Why do you think Carly chooses to trust Jeff Hanks after the numerous reasons she’s heard to be suspicious of him? Have you ever had to give someone the benefit of the doubt? How did you make your decision in that case?

  7. Were you offended or scandalized by Andrea’s promiscuity or Londy’s poor choices even after he claimed to follow Jesus? How can believers maintain loving relationships with people who have different lifestyles, people who set different standards for their lives? What do you make of Kay’s approach to Londy? Pastor Rawlings’s approach to Carly?

  8. What would you say to someone who, like Carly, has trouble believing in God because of the painful circumstances of his or her life?

  9. Many different characters’ lives were changed when they became believers: Nick, Nathan, Mark, even Londy. Whom have you known whose life was turned around because of Christ? In what ways has your own life changed?

 
10. When Jeff sacrifices himself to save Carly, she seems to finally understand Christ’s sacrifice for her. Read and discuss John 15:12-13. What are other ways you can show this kind of sacrificial love to those in your life?

  1

  “I can’t believe it still feels like eighty degrees outside. It’s three o’clock in the morning.” Carly Edwards bit back a yawn and waved one hand outside the patrol car as she drove. The smell of hot pavement permeated the air, and Carly squirmed at the feeling of her undershirt plastered to her body under her stiff Kevlar vest.

  “What’s the matter? You miss your afternoon shift in juvenile, sitting in air-conditioned comfort?” asked Joe King, her partner, riding shotgun. They’d agreed long ago that the AC was a no-no in the black-and-white while on patrol. Officers needed to hear what was going on outside the car, and that was impossible with the windows up and the AC blowing.

  “No way!” She shot a glare at Joe only to find him grinning. “Ha-ha. No matter how hot it gets—or how cold, for that matter—I’ll still love graveyard patrol.”

  Joe settled into his seat. “Well, it’s good to have you back. Bet you wish you’d cut your hair. It’s probably hot right now.”

  Running a hand behind her neck, Carly nodded. “I wish I had scissors with me.” The hot weather served as a reminder: she needed to cut her hair; no matter how she tied her thick mop back, it was just too hot. She smiled in the semidarkness. Small price to pay for being back where I want to be. She turned down an alley and slowed, listening and watching while garages and dark backyards rolled by. The radio stayed quiet.

  “I was talking to Todd the other day . . . ,” Carly said.

  “Which one? Todd in detectives or Todd out at the academy?”

  “Academy, the department historian. Did you know that back in the thirties and forties, they used to call black-and-whites ‘prowl cars’? Don’t you think that’s a great name? Especially for us working graves. That’s what we do—prowl.”

  “Yeah, I like that. Prowling for prowlers,” Joe agreed. “Especially this time of the morning we prowl through empty streets looking for bad guys.”

  Carly nodded and checked her watch. “Let’s do some prowling over at Memorial Hospital. The watch report said there was an uptick in car burgs in the hospital lot. I promised Andrea we’d give the area some extra attention. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch an auto burglar.”

  “Ah, Andrea the wild woman. Sometimes I wonder how the two of you live together; you’re so different.”

  “So what are you trying to say? I’m boring?” Carly pulled out of the alley and onto a main thoroughfare.

  “No, you’re just more down-to-earth. You have to admit, Andrea is a player.”

  “She may be a player, but she’s been a good friend. I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t been there for me after the divorce.” She shrugged and kept her eyes moving, watching the dark street and quiet businesses. “I’ve known her since we were five.”

  Joe grunted. “I’m glad the match works for you.”

  Carly steered the car toward the hospital and punched the accelerator, enjoying the speed and the empty city streets but distracted by the subject of her roommate. “I will admit, though, there has been some friction between us lately. She’s not happy Nick and I are talking about reconciling.” Carly frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. In fact, it seems to make Andrea downright angry.

  “Maybe she’s afraid you’ll get hurt again.”

  Carly slowed the unit as they reached the hospital parking lot. She cast a sidelong glance at Joe. He was looking out his window.

  “Is it just Andrea who’s afraid for me, or does that go for you, too?” She clicked off the headlights and settled into a five-mile-per-hour crawl through the sparsely filled lot, watching carefully for any movement.

  “Yeah, I guess it goes for me, too. I like Nick and everything—he’s a great cop—but I remember how much he hurt you. Are you sure you want to take that chance again?”

  Simultaneously they turned to face one another. Carly read the concern in his eyes before she turned back to concentrate on the lot. But instead of seeing cars, she began replaying the first date she’d had with Nick after he was released from the hospital. He’d decided to court her as though they’d just met and to treat her with a respect and tenderness that took her breath away. “I’ll prove I’m a new man, worthy of your trust and admiration, a trust I’ll never betray again,” he’d said just before he’d kissed her good night. As his lips touched hers, his words warmed her heart and she forgot about all the bad baggage in their history.

  “I’ve told you, I believe he’s changed,” Carly said to Joe. “I’ve changed too. We’re Christians now.” She wished the conviction in her voice would infuse her heart. Inside, she winced because Nick had been distant lately. A couple of weeks after that wonderful date, he began pulling away, and she was at a loss as to why. And we’ve been through so much. The last sixteen months flashed through Carly’s mind: Nick’s affair, their split, the murder case that brought them back together, and the shooting that left Nick with a gimpy hip.

  “Well,” Joe said, “all I know is that Nick is lucky you’ll give him the time of day, let alone a reconciliation.”

  “I’d be happy to explain the Christian . . .” Something caught her eye. She stopped the unit. They were in the last parking row, facing the security building on the fringe of the hospital’s property.

  “You see something?” Joe shifted forward in his seat.

  “Yes, I’m sure I saw a light flash across the window there.” She pointed to the left side of the building in front of them.

  The pair stared into the darkness at the small, one-story building, the only noise the steady hum of the Chevy’s engine and an occasional squeak of leather gear.

  “Look! Did you see it?” Carly hissed the question in an excited whisper as her heart rate quickened. She turned the car off.

  “I saw it.” Joe picked up the radio mike. “Adam-7, show us out at Memorial Hospital, possible burglary in progress in the security offices on the southwest portion of the parking lot.”

  He replaced the mike and they both waited to hear the dispatcher acknowledge the transmission. Several units answered to assist. Carly nodded to Joe, and they quietly got out of the car.

  “I saw it twice more,” she whispered without taking her eyes off the building. “You go north; I’ll take south.”

  They parted and came at the building from different directions, each using the few cars and trees in the lot for cover. As Carly approached the southeast corner, a car parked on the side of the building came into view. The vehicle was tucked away where a vehicle didn’t belong, in a vestibule reserved for Dumpsters.

  When she cleared the corner of the building, more of the car became visible, and she could make out a faint silhouette of someone behind the wheel. Frowning, she squinted, trying to see better in the darkness. If there was someone behind the wheel, he or she was short. A kid?

  She jerked her radio from its holder. Whoever it was, he didn’t belong here, and she could read the license plate.

  “Adam-7, there’s a car—”

  The car’s engine roared to life. In a cacophony of grinding gears and squealing tires, it lurched backward, straight for Carly.

  “Carly!” Joe called her name as she dove into a planter, out of the car’s path but still close enough to feel its exhaust as the driver ground gears into first and screeched forward, away from the lot. Carly fumbled for her radio while Joe ran to her side.

  She held a hand up to indicate she was okay and keyed her radio to hail dispatch. “Adam-7, we have a possible burglary suspect fleeing from our location, now northbound on California Ave. It’s a small, gray, compact vehicle, license plate 3-Tom-King-Adam 4-6-3.”

  The taillights sped north toward the freeway.

  “Are you okay?” Joe leaned down to help her out of the bushes.

  “Yeah, just a few scratches.” Carly brushed h
er uniform off and found no significant damage, only a muddy knee.

  The sound of sirens split the air, and the radio told them assisting units had picked up the fleeing vehicle and were now in pursuit.

  “I hope they get him,” Carly sighed, more than a little disappointed they weren’t in a car speeding after the burglar. She jerked a thumb toward the building and spoke in a soft tone to Joe. “Whoever had the light on in there did not have time to get in that car.”

  Joe nodded in agreement. “Let’s finish checking the building.”

  Carly kept one ear tuned to the pursuit on the radio while she and Joe turned their attention to the security building and the trash vestibule.

  “Look.” Joe pointed with one hand and drew his weapon with the other. There was a screen on the ground under an open window. If someone had climbed into the building through this window, then that person was still inside.

  The partners turned down the volume on their radios. Carly drew her gun and stepped to one side of the garbage enclosure while Joe took the other end.

  From her position she had a clear view of the window. Patiently she watched. Joe was closer to the building, and she could see him straining to hear if there was someone moving around inside. In a few minutes their vigilance was rewarded, and Joe signaled her that he’d heard something. Carly tightened the grip on her gun.

  A bag appeared in the window. Gloved hands pushed the bag out. It dropped to the ground and landed softly near the screen.

  Carly looked at Joe and held a finger to her lips. They both trained their weapons on the opening. A man poked his head out the window and looked to the left and the right. Carly held her breath, but she knew she and Joe were well concealed. The man then pushed his entire torso out the window. Head down, he twisted and swung his legs to the left out the long, thin opening. With a push, a little flip, and a whispered curse, the burglar let go of the sill and dropped the short distance to the ground next to the bag. His back was to Carly and Joe, and when he turned, Joe made their presence known.