by Liz Bradford
That was a mistake. As soon as she could see her old locker the flashback came in waves of images and sensations. The hand of Hazel Hill High School’s most notorious bully rested on the locker next to her. The oversaturated sent of his cologne threatened to empty her stomach. Even today the nausea returned as it was so ingrained in the memory. The image of her books being knocked out of her hands flooded her eyes. The sound of the textbooks and binder hitting the floor came next. The sneering look on the bully’s face. The betrayal of a friend who she hoped was coming to her rescue. The flashback was more than she could bear.
She wobbled on her feet. She tried to keep walking. Just one foot in front of the other, Ella. As she passed the locker, she choked back a few tears.
“Hey, Miss Perkins.” She tried to pull herself together before looking up and meeting Mr. Withers’ eyes as he came up beside her.
She gave him a weak smile.
“Are you all right? You don’t look like you feel well.”
“I don’t really.” She tried to be honest, all the while hoping he wouldn’t ask more questions.
“Well, if you aren’t feeling well, go home. All we are doing this afternoon are ‘team building’ activities, which I know aren’t your cup of tea anyway.”
Boy, was he right about that! She hated anything that forced any physical contact with others. “Really, would that be all right?”
“Absolutely. Don’t worry about it. Go home, and we’ll see you in the morning. We’ll have a brief meeting in the morning, and I plan to let you all have the rest of the day to work in your rooms.”
“Oh, good. Thank you. I really appreciate it. I will go if that’s all right. A nap might help.”
“Yep, go.” He turned and walked toward the gym.
Ella managed to make it all the way back out to her car without running into anyone else. She drove away, but only made it a few blocks before she had to pull the car over. Her eyes were dry, but she couldn’t focus on driving. Her emotions were a mess. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what she was feeling, was it grief? Anger? Dejection? She wasn’t sure, but either way she was overwhelmed by it.
She prayed aloud, “God, why? Why did I have to step back in that building? My junior year of high school was absolutely the worst year of my life. Why did I need to face that again?” Tears welled up in her eyes. “But thank you for giving me an out. I don’t understand, Jesus, I thought we had dealt with all of this already…”
She sat there on the side of the road for a few minutes not even sure what words to pray. She sat until she was able to regain her composure. Her favorite thing in the world was to sing, especially old hymns. They hardly sang them anymore in church, but she had grown up singing them and continued to this day, especially when flashbacks came. Singing praises to the Lord was the only thing that could bring her out of a funk like the flashbacks sent her into.
As Ella drove home, she started singing.
I need Thee ev’ry hour, most gracious Lord,
No tender voice like thine can peace afford
I need Thee, oh, I need Thee; ev’ry hour I need Thee!
Oh, bless me now my Savior; I come to Thee!
…I need Thee ev’ry hour, In joy or pain;
Come quickly and abide, Or life is vain.
I need Thee, oh, I need Thee; ev’ry hour I need Thee!
Oh, bless me now my Savior; I come to Thee!
Adam sat at his desk in the police squad room rubbing his forehead Thursday morning. He was hungover, yet again. Ever since Rick had died over a month ago, Adam was drinking a little more than he should, but he appreciated it’s numbing effects. He was trying so hard to hide it from everyone, but he wasn’t doing a good enough job to keep it from his partner. And today had already been long, and it was only nine o’clock in the morning.
The call had come in at three, waking Adam from a very restless still slightly inebriated sleep. Amelia picked him up, which was good because there was no way he was in any shape to drive. She had met him outside his house with a large cup of coffee. He had been grateful, especially as she gave him the run down as they headed to the scene.
A sixteen-year-old girl had been raped. His stomach turned over at the thought. How could any man do that to anyone, let alone a young girl? It made his blood boil.
“Hey, Jamison, here’s a refill.” Amelia walked back over to their desks that were facing each other against the wall of the large squad room where most of the detectives of the Hazel Hill PD resided. She handed him another large cup of coffee.
“Thanks, Amelia, but you really don’t have to keep bringing me coffee. I can get it myself.”
“I know, but you’re looking extra rough today. So, I thought I’d help out.”
“You’re just hoping to absorb some of the caffeine through the air.”
“Ha! Right. I have my tea. This baby isn’t keeping me from all caffeine, just keeping me from multiple cups of coffee.”
His partner had hit the cute pregnant lady stage of pregnancy. As she leaned back against her desk, her little belly protruded from her denim jacket, since it could no longer wrap around her belly. He was so glad that his friend Caleb had found this wonderful lady to marry. Caleb deserved her. He was also glad he was friends with his partner’s husband. Having a partner of the opposite gender had the potential to be awkward, but being good friend’s with said partner’s husband reduced any awkwardness on all sides. And Caleb counted on Adam to keep her safe.
“Have we heard any more from the hospital? How is Ava doing?” Amelia turned towards him.
“I haven’t heard anything. Hopefully she is sleeping now.” They had stayed with the young lady until the doctors gave her something to help her sleep in the wee hours of the morning.
“Yeah, hopefully.”
“I just don’t get it. No matter how long I do this job, I still get sick at what these scumbags are capable of.”
“Don’t ever stop getting sick because of it, Adam. That’s what makes you a good detective, a good special victims detective.”
“I guess.”
Silence fell between them, and Amelia took a seat at her desk. There wasn’t much they could do on the case until the lab work was processed since they had no leads from the scene. Adam had a bad feeling that this would be a tough case to solve.
Becca, Amelia’s sister-in-law, came over to their desks. “How’s it going? You were both here early today.”
Adam filled her in and asked, “How’s the case you and Gavin have been working going? Any leads?”
“Nope, none. It’s been a week, but we’re still having a difficult time piecing together what happened. Kimberley’s body was found at a park on the opposite side of town. It doesn’t really make any sense. She doesn’t have any kids, so the playground doesn’t fit. We have no clue why she would have been on that side of town, especially considering her keys, purse, and car were all at home. There was no sign of forced entry, so we’re investigating anyone she knows. All we know is that her husband discovered her missing only hours before her body was found.”
“Is the husband a suspect?”
“No, he’s got a solid alibi. He’s a doctor and was at the hospital at the time of death.”
“I hope you figure it out,” Adam said.
"I'm sorry, Becca." Amelia fell silent, but her eyes shifted, and he knew she had something else to say.
"What's with you?" He gave her an opening.
"Have I got a story to tell you." She shifted in her seat and leaned forward. "So clumsy pregnant lady here. Yesterday morning, I'm coming up stairs from the lab. I had the folder full of the pictures Jocelyn had taken of the domestic violence case we are wrapping up, and I totally tripped. It was comical to see, I'm sure, but the folder went flying out of my hand, gruesome pictures fly across the lobby floor just feet away from a group of girl scouts here for a tour. I couldn't catch them and myself, so of course the baby took precedence." She sat back and rubbed her belly. "I look up and who's st
anding there, but Patrick." She met Adam's eyes.
Adam's stomach twisted. There were few people in the world that he truly hated, and Patrick was one of them.
Becca twisted her hair. "As in Jocelyn's husband? Patrick North?"
Amelia scrunched up her nose and nodded. "That man makes me so uncomfortable." She looked back at Adam. "I do not understand how your cousin married him."
Neither did Adam. He shook his head "He’s a real pretentious jack, err, jerk.” Jerk was not a strong enough word for the man, but Amelia had asked him to not swear, and he respected his partner enough to honor her wishes.
"But that's not the end of the story. Patrick, as expected, was a jerk. Trash talk spewed out of his mouth, and he kicked the pictures away from me as I tried to pick them up. That's when my gallant knight appeared."
"Caleb came by yesterday?" Becca raised one eyebrow.
Amelia laughed. "Not like that. No, a guy I had never seen before appeared out of nowhere. Told Patrick to knock it off, by name."
Adam tilted his head. "This guy knew Patrick?"
"Yeah, like they go back. But he put Patrick in his place and helped me clean up the mess."
Becca leaned forward onto Amelia's desk. "Who was this knight?"
"His name's Scott, and he's going to be working in here doing office stuff."
Adam swept his arm across the room. "Where is he? I need to thank him for saving my partner from my cousin's jerky husband."
Amelia giggled. "I haven't seen him yet today. Oh wait, there he is." She pointed towards the Captain's office.
Adam looked over. Something about the man was familiar. But the thinning hair didn't fit.
Scott walked towards them. Adam continued to try to place his face.
"Well, if it isn't little Adam Jamison." Scott stopped beside his desk.
"Scott Rebus?" Adam resisted the urge to stand up and show Scott that he was over six foot, no longer the little kid Scott used to know.
"The one and only. Saved this lovely lady yesterday from North."
"So I heard. Thanks. Amelia's my partner."
"Lucky guy then. Can I just say? It's hard to believe Patrick ever became a cop, thought he would've stayed in the Army."
Adam just nodded.
Scott's eyes locked with Adam's. "How's Heather?"
A shudder course through Adam's spine. "She’s fine, doesn’t ever talk about you." Adam could only picture his big sister's tears from around the time she had dated Scott over twenty years ago. She would not want Scott to know anything about how she was doing, no matter how kind he seemed today.
Scott shrugged and left.
Adam shook his head and looked back at his notes.
“I suppose I should go catch a murderer.” Becca turned towards her desk.
“And we’ve got a rapist to catch. Scully, what’s our next step? My brain’s too foggy.”
Amelia looked down at her notes. “That’s what happens when you drink so much.”
His pulse increased. “I heard that.”
She looked up at him with kind eyes. “Adam, I just… never mind…”
“What?” He folded his arms on his desk and leaned forward.
“You’ve heard it all before. Let’s get back to the case. What are some of the distinguishing elements of the MO?”
Adam appreciated that she dropped it and got back to the case. “Duct tape, cut as opposed to ripped clothes, ski mask… oh and this one gets me, the phrase he used: ‘On your knees.’” A shudder coursed through him. “This guy really has a superiority complex.”
Adam’s eyes stung as he woke up in a hung-over fog as usual, but this time was different. He was pretty sure it was Sunday morning, but he didn’t know where he was. A quick look around the bedroom revealed a vaguely familiar woman sleeping on the other side of the unfamiliar bed. He pulled his clothes on and continued to assess the situation. He couldn’t remember much of anything from last night, including her name… This was a new low, even for him. He had always prided himself in the fact that he could still name every woman he had ever been with. But as his mom always said, “Pride comes before the fall.” She was right.
He slipped his shoes on, grabbed his fedora, and as quietly as possible, exited the apartment. He was out of control. His insides burned, but it wasn’t because of the remnants of alcohol in his system. Amelia had already threatened him with an intervention, so as he walked down the steps out of the building, he decided he needed to call one on himself before his friends had to. Adam sat down on the steps and pulled out his phone. The sun was just starting to light up the horizon. He looked at his phone. It wasn’t even 6:30 yet. He knew exactly who he should call, but part of him hesitated because he knew that Amelia would know who called her husband this early on a Sunday morning. Hopefully, Caleb wasn’t working.
He sucked it up and dialed Caleb’s cell phone; Caleb answered after the second ring. “Hey, Adam. Everything okay?”
“Hey. Was wondering if you could give me a ride? I’m not sure where I left my car.”
“Sure, man. Where are you?”
Adam got up and looked at the signs. “Looks like I’m at Glen Street Apartments.”
“I know where that is. I’ll be there in a jiffy. Basketball or breakfast?”
Adam chuckled. His friend knew this was more than just a request for a ride. After all, he could have called a cab if all he needed was a ride. He rubbed his head. “Both?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Adam hung up, slid his phone into his back pocket, and rubbed his temples. He debated going back to sit on the steps, but he needed to be as far away from the unknown woman as he could get, so he walked around the sign and hung out on the curb.
After Adam had paced back and forth for a few minutes, Caleb pulled up to the curb. It was amazing how fast he arrived. Adam climbed into the Camaro. “Do I need to give you a speeding ticket?”
Caleb chuckled. “So, what first? Back to your place to change and then hit the court?”
“I could beat you even in jeans and dress shoes, but yeah, let’s go change.” Adam set his hat on his knee.
Caleb pulled away and cut to the chase, “What’s going on with you?”
Adam inhaled deeply. He wasn’t sure he was ready to go into it. “On more than one occasion, your wife has threatened me with an intervention. I figured I’d call it on myself before she had to.”
“Sounds like Amelia. The drinking going too far?”
“Yeah. I don’t remember much of last night.”
“That’s too far.”
The conversation halted as they picked up coffee and stopped by Adam’s house. They were on the basketball court at the gym before either of them said anything else of consequence. The court was empty, and Adam found a ball and practiced a few free throws, not missing one. Some say he wasted his talent by becoming a cop instead of going all the way to the NBA, but he knew that was one decision in his life that he had made correctly.
Caleb claimed a spot just inside the three-point line. “I’m going to give it to you straight.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything else.” Adam passed the ball to Caleb.
“You know the answer, don’t you?” Caleb took a shot.
“I know what you’re going to say, but I’m not sure it’s the answer.”
“You tell me. What do you think I’m going to say?” Caleb retrieved the ball and threw it to Adam.
He caught it. “That Jesus is the only answer.” Adam shifted on his feet to balance out the uncomfortable shift in his stomach. “That I need to surrender my life to him. Yadda-yadda.”
“You know the Gospel better than you let on.”
Memories of endless mornings sitting on a cold metal folding chair listening to Sunday school teachers drone on flashed through his mind. “That junk doesn’t apply to me.”
“Jesus died for you just as much as he died for me.” Caleb’s voice was soft but punched hard.
“So, I’ve heard.” Ad
am spun the ball around in his hands. “How does that even begin to get me out of the rut I’ve fallen into?”
Caleb rubbed his hands together and stepped toward Adam. “You have to rely on His strength. By surrendering your life to him, it changes you at the deepest level. When you have his Spirit inside of you, He will lead you, and He does all the work to help you overcome the depression you are feeling.”
“Who said anything about depression?” Adam said a bit more defensively than he had intended.
“Adam, don’t be a fool. Anyone who knows you can see that you’ve had a cloud of depression and maybe… guilt… hanging over you since Rick died.”
Adam’s jaw went taut, and he squeezed the basketball in his hands. The image of Rick going into that house, the sound of the guns, the blood.
“Let Jesus take that from you.” Caleb’s voice was tight. “He promises to ease our burdens if we give them to him.”
Adam fought the urge to fall to his knees. Instead he threw the ball straight down at the floor. It bounced back up into his hands. He stared at it. The lines worn just like the defenses around his pride. “But it’s my fault.” Adam looked up.
Caleb pursed his lips together and shook his head. “You weren’t holding that gun.”
Adam chucked the ball into the bleachers. The clang echoed through the small gymnasium. “I might as well have. I should have gone through that door first.”
Caleb retrieved the ball as if the ball had just bounced across the court on its own. “Weren’t you were tagging along on his case? Why on earth would you have gone through that door first?”
“It’s stupid.” He explained the rock, paper, scissors.
