White Roses Calling

by Hudson, Dakota

  Two medium built Hispanic men, their gang affiliation obvious due to their dress and display of various tattoos, were locked in combat. They were followed by several additional friends and family, many of them displaying signs of their respective gang affiliations, as well as two sheriff’s department bailiffs who were attempting to bring about some sense of order to the chaos.

  As Sydney sidestepped the mass of bodies that hurtled toward her, she glanced up at the remaining crowd of people against the opposite wall by the bank of elevators. Several of the bystanders were pushing their way into the single set of open elevator doors, hoping to escape the violence unfolding before them. As additional battles broke out amongst the other gang members, Sydney began to cycle her eyes back to the melee and backed toward her own avenue of escape. Then her eyes were for some reason drawn to those of a tall figure standing against the rear wall of the open elevator and she froze.

  Despite the fast moving violence breaking out all around her, Sydney stood frozen, unable to move as an unstoppable spike of terror went through her. Though the figure was wearing dark sunglasses, strange within the interior confines of the courthouse and the elevator, Sydney believed she recognized the unmistakable face of Matthew Sinclair.

  ALEX WAS RETURNING from the restroom, taking a break from sitting in a nearby courtroom waiting for her case to be called. A gang dispute had turned violent and war had broken out in the halls of the courthouse. She saw Sydney at the very edge of the quickly expanding altercation. Her attention didn’t seem focused on the increasing violence, instead directed toward something or someone behind the closing door of one of the elevators.

  Two of the combatants suddenly lurched toward Sydney. Without conscious thought Alex threw herself at the two, successfully intercepting them on their collision course and sending both sprawling to the floor along with Alex herself.

  After they all hit the ground Alex straddled one of the gangsters, as he lay on his back and continued to struggle against her. She turned briefly back to Sydney.

  “Ms. Rutledge, get back!” she yelled, diverting her focus then taking a fist to the side of her head for her inattention. She quickly recovered and delivered an elbow strike to his face, stunning him sufficiently to allow her to force him onto his stomach in an effort to handcuff him. She then noticed the other gang member had regained his footing and was coming toward her with his hands clenched.

  “Back off!” Her attention split as she fought to pull the first offender’s hands behind his back and keep an eye on Sydney, still standing unmoving nearby.

  “Fuck you, bitch!” was the gangster’s only reply as he continued to advance, bringing a booted foot back and coming forward in a vicious kick aimed at Alex’s exposed ribcage. She attempted to twist away from it and brought one arm up to deflect the incoming kick, but it still connected partially. At that moment one of the bailiffs tackled him before he could deliver another blow to Alex.

  The suspect Alex was struggling with used the opportunity, and the now free arm, to drive his elbow up and back, connecting with her face. Alex was dizzied by the combination of blows but delivered her own combination of punches to the suspect’s kidney area then the side of his head. He stopped resisting and she was able to finish handcuffing him. At that moment the cavalry arrived as several additional sheriff’s deputies came pouring out of nearby courtrooms, the elevator and stairwell.

  Alex jumped up and moved to Sydney’s side, positioning herself between Sydney and the combatants. The scene became momentarily more chaotic as the dozen or so officers forcefully regained control. Alex grasped Sydney by the shoulders, gently moving her against the wall. Sydney collapsed into her body, Sydney’s forehead against her chest. Alex felt a shudder go through Sydney’s body as she stood protectively between her and the gradually receding violence. The scene was brought under control and Alex turned her attention to fully focus on the woman in her arms.

  Sydney took a deep breath and straightened her posture. Alex was suddenly aware of the somewhat intimate embrace in which she held Sydney. She loosened her grasp and took a partial step back, giving Sydney her personal space, yet remaining close enough to lend support if needed.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  Sydney finally seemed to focus on the activity around her. “Um.

  Yeah,” Sydney said with not much conviction. She seemed slow to collect herself and Alex couldn’t help but notice her eyes drift repeatedly to the elevators. When one of them let out a loud “ding” and the doors began to open, Sydney’s eyes flashed with terror. Alex glanced over at the same doors and watched them open. None of the current occupants exited, all apparently following the afternoon exit pattern and intent on riding the car to the ground floor. Many of those uninvolved in the now ended hallway altercation jockeyed for position in the car.

  When Alex turned back to Sydney, the woman seemed to have collected herself and was straightening out the files she was carrying, which now threatened to fall. Alex reached over and kept some of the files from falling as Sydney repositioned the shoulder strap of her leather satchel briefcase.

  “Thanks,” Sydney said with a quick smile of gratitude as she continued to organize her files. Alex was pondering asking Sydney about her look of fear when the vibration emanating from her uniform pocket sidetracked her. She gave Sydney an apologetic look then stepped aside to answer the cell phone.

  “Hey, Sal,” she said, having noted the caller I.D. “What’s up?”

  “We just had a back-up request put out by the sheriffs in the courthouse, fifteenth floor. It’s code-four now.”

  This indicated that the situation was under control and no further assistance was needed.

  “Tell me you’re not in the middle of this?”

  “Uh, well, now that you mention it—”

  “Shit, Alex,” Sal said. “Say no more. I’m just about to get on the elevator.”

  “Thanks, buddy,” Alex said and laughed. “I’ll be waiting on fifteen.”

  SYDNEY WATCHED ALEX tuck the phone away in a pocket and turn back toward her. For the first time she noted the side of her face was bloodied, coming from a gash near one eyebrow. She saw Alex reach up and run her fingers along the cut, then appear more frustrated than hurt. Sydney watched as Alex walked a short distance then paused as a stocky male sergeant, who had just stepped off the elevator, met her. The new arrival seemed to joke with her about something as they spoke briefly and he took some notes.

  When Alex walked away and entered the nearby ladies’ room, Sydney handed her briefcase to Tyler, who had joined her in the hallway.

  “I’m going to make a quick bathroom stop, Ty.” He took the briefcase and files from her and she noticed the mischievous glint in his eye. She rolled her eyes. “I’m just using the facilities, Tyler. Control your imagination.” But she couldn’t keep a slight smile from her own lips as she turned away and headed to the ladies’ room.

  She entered the restroom and saw Alex leaning over the sink splashing water onto her face, washing away the blood. When Alex straightened up a trickle of red could be seen still coming from her eyebrow.

  Alex looked into the mirror and their eyes met for a moment. She appeared shocked by Sydney’s entrance.

  Sydney moved to the paper towel dispenser. “You’re bleeding,” she said as she tore off a section and held it out to Alex. “Are you okay?”

  Alex took the paper towel and smiled her thanks at Sydney through the mirrored reflection. “It’s just a scratch. No big deal,” she said as she wiped her face. “How are you?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” Sydney said, though her eyes drifted away in evasion as she said it.

  Alex leaned back on the sink as she held the towel to her eyebrow. “You sure about that?” she asked quietly. “It seemed like something had you a bit...startled. Something different than the chaos in the hallway.”

  “I, uh, just thought I saw someone I recognized in the elevator,” Sydney said nervously. “Someone I’d really rathe
r not see.”

  “I could tell you weren’t really focused on what was going on around you,” Alex said. “I’m sorry if I startled you by jerking you around. It looked like a couple of those guys were going to steamroll over the top of you and I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

  Sydney’s stomach fluttered pleasantly when she saw the look of concern on Alex’s face. She was again thrown off by the feeling, by her own reaction to being in this woman’s presence. Flustered, she turned to the sink herself, washing her hands as she attempted to figure out what to say next. Alex made no move to leave, wiping her own hands dry then returning the favor as she handed Sydney some paper towels to dry her hands.

  “Not at all,” Sydney said. “I appreciate you looking out for me. You seem to do that quite a bit with me,” she added. She thought she saw Alex smile somewhat nervously in response.

  “Uh, if you wouldn’t mind talking to the other sergeant about what you saw that would be a big help,” Alex said. “He’s got to write a use of force report on me and needs any witnesses who saw what happened.”

  Sydney nodded. She was familiar with the L.A.P.D.’s administrative use of force reports as they sometimes came into play in cases she handled that involved resisting arrest charges or assaults on police officers.

  “As you noticed, I kind of zoned out there for a few moments,” Sydney said somewhat sheepishly. “But I’ll certainly share what I do remember seeing.”

  “Hey, you help put a lot of the worst of the worst away. It’s perfectly understandable if you’re thrown off a little when you run into one of them, or their family members, in the open hallway.” Alex held the door open for Sydney and they exited the bathroom back into the hallway.

  Sydney realized Sergeant Chambers believed she’d run into someone she’d previously prosecuted. She was relieved not to have to explain any further and tucked the experience away as a symptom of being tired and somewhat stressed. Clearly she had allowed her imagination to get the better of her common sense.

  “This is Sydney Rutledge, she’s an A.D.A. She was in the hallway and saw most of what happened. Ms. Rutledge, this is Sergeant Sal Donatelli.” They shook hands and smiled in greeting to one another.

  “I can make this real quick,” Sal said as he pulled out a small notepad and wrote Sydney’s name on it. Then he looked back at Alex. “Give me a minute to get a quick statement then I’ll take you to Good Samaritan Hospital to get your face looked at.”

  “No rush,” Alex said. “Probably don’t need the hospital. We can swing by the fire station and I’ll just get an ice pack or something.” She wandered across the hallway to lean on the wall with her arms crossed.

  “She really should get some ice on that as soon as possible,” Sydney said quietly to no one in particular. “And she may need some stitches.” Sydney looked across the hall at Alex, who was leaned back against the wall, eyes closed.

  “Uh-huh,” Sal said. “But Alex can be a little pigheaded at times.”

  Sydney continued gazing at Alex and almost missed the next quiet comment that Sal added.

  “And like Alex always says, chicks dig scars.”

  Sydney turned back to Sal, who appeared to be innocently looking in his notebook as he wrote something. She then looked at Tyler, who wore his smirk plastered on his face. She glared briefly at him and he almost laughed out loud as he turned to a nearby drinking fountain. She glanced again at Alex and Sal, and wondered if either of them had noticed how long she had been gazing at the attractive female sergeant.

  “So,” Sal interrupted her thoughts and looked up with no expression. “Can you just tell me where you were in the hallway and exactly what you saw?”

  “ISN’T THAT THE A.D.A. from your White Rose case?” Sal asked ten minutes later as he and Alex were riding the elevator down to the ground floor.

  “Uh-huh,” Alex said casually.

  “I think she’s interested in you.”

  Alex turned toward him. “You’re smokin’ your socks, Sal.”

  “Nope...she’s definitely interested in you.”

  “She’s straight, Sal. I’m telling you there’s no way.”

  “And I’m telling you she’s interested, or at least curious. Trust me.”

  Alex rolled her eyes. “You’re nuts.” She got into the passenger side of the black and white. But inside she wondered if there was any chance Sal could be correct. Could she be interested? Even a little?

  “What makes you think she’s interested?” Alex asked as they drove from the scene.

  SYDNEY AND TYLER returned to their offices on the eighteenth floor. Sydney was unusually quiet during their journey up from the courtroom hallway on the lower floor. She had to admit to herself that the disturbing gift left on her car was playing havoc with her mind. She’d been having trouble sleeping, her dreams riddled with disturbing images from the crime scene photographs during the Sinclair trial. She considered what she had imagined in the elevator lobby. It was just her imagination, wasn’t it?

  “You okay, Syd?” Tyler sat down in the chair on the other side of her desk, putting down one of the cups of coffee he’d just picked up from the break room. Sydney looked at him for a few moments, contemplating her reply.

  “Someone’s played a messed up joke on me,” she finally said. “And I think it’s making my imagination over-react a little bit.” Tyler only lifted his eyebrow and waited for her to continue as he sipped at his own coffee. “Someone left a rose on my windshield a couple weeks ago.”

  “You have a secret admirer?” he asked, though the slight smile disappeared at Sydney’s next comment.

  “It was a white rose,” she said simply.

  “What kind of fucked up—”

  “Yeah, I told myself it was just some messed up, vicious game being played by someone and tried to ignore it. But I think it got my imagination going a bit, because then today I imagined seeing Sinclair in one of the elevators just as the fight broke out.”

  “Imagined?” Tyler asked. Sydney nodded then leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.

  “I froze. I could swear it was him. But we all know he’s in prison. He’s on death row, for Christ’s sake.”

  THE NEXT EVENING Sydney made her way across the garage toward her car. Her head was down and her eyes were tied to her cell phone scrolling through several emails. She looked up as she put her phone away and stopped short. A white rose had, once again, been placed against the windshield of her car. Sydney looked around, feeling extremely exposed and very alone. She backed away from her car, then turned and bolted for the elevator. The doors opened immediately after she pressed the call button and she was thankful the elevator had not yet left the subterranean level. She pressed the button several times, willing the doors to close more quickly.

  Sydney rode the elevator to the eighteenth floor. She was unsure of what she intended to do, she only knew she couldn’t remain alone in the darkened garage. The elevator traveled directly to the upper floor, the late hour reducing demand on it with most riders on the way down and out of the building. The doors opened onto the lobby and Sydney hurriedly exited, practically running into Tyler, who was waiting to leave.

  “Hey, what’s the rush, Syd?” he asked with a smile. He stopped their collision with outstretched arms.

  “Tyler!” Sydney grasped his hand and closed her eyes in relief, then took a deep breath to calm herself.

  “Syd, what the heck is going on? What’s wrong?” He guided her to a nearby lobby chair and sat next to her. “What happened? You just left a few minutes ago.”

  The more she calmed, the more Sydney began to feel a little silly. She shook her head. Maybe she was making a bigger deal out of this than she should? Tyler waited patiently until she finally answered.

  “Ty, it happened again.”

  Tyler remained silent and simply raised his eyebrows in question.

  “Another white rose on my windshield.”

  “Somebody,” Tyler said quietly, “is being an asshole.
Was there a note or anything?”

  Sydney shook her head. “I didn’t see one.”

  They sat for a couple more minutes, Tyler simply rubbing Sydney’s back in comfort. Then Sydney mentally ordered herself to get a grip.

  “Okay, this is ridiculous. It’s just a stupid sick joke and I shouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of seeing more of a reaction.” She stood and slung the strap to her satchel over her shoulder, acting with more confidence than she actually felt. “Walk down with me?” she said with a somewhat sheepish look on her face.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to make a formal report or anything?” Tyler asked as he stood.

  “I’m sure. It’s nothing. If I ignore it, hopefully they’ll move on to harass someone else with their immature crap.”

  “Okay.” Tyler moved with her to the elevator doors and pressed the button to recall the elevator. “Let’s walk you to your car and I’ll take care of it. But I want you to promise me you’ll tell me if anything else happens.”

  A COUPLE OF weeks, later Alex ran into Sydney once again in the hallway on one of the courthouse floors.

  “I see you’re none the worse for wear,” Sydney said. “Did you end up with stitches?”

  Alex rolled her eyes to indicate how she felt about the required medical treatment. “Yeah. Just a few.”

  Sydney leaned forward, reaching up to Alex’s chin and turning her face to get a look at the injured eyebrow.

  “Looks good,” she said. “You almost can’t see the scar, even knowing it’s there.” Alex felt Sydney’s fingers linger momentarily, maintaining their contact with her skin. Alex’s eyes closed and she shuddered slightly at the contact. When she opened her eyes moments later their eyes met and neither moved or spoke for a moment. Then Sydney pulled her hand back and looked away, leaving Alex somewhat embarrassed at her own reactions. She wondered how much Sydney had noticed, or if Sydney had felt anything herself.