Falling for the New Guy

Another nod, no other verbal response. Seriously, who was this guy? Some kind of monk? Only allowed a certain number of words a day?

She didn’t have time to think about it. She had to do the dead-man-walking trek to Franks’s office.

The door was open, but she knocked anyway. She’d never been taken to task before, but she knew. She just knew.

“Yes?” Captain barked.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Camden. Yes. Come in. Close the door.”

Nope. Not good. But she did it, because, as with a lot of things, what choice did she have?

“We’ve had a few rumblings after last week.”

“Last week, sir?”

“You disappeared fifteen minutes before your shift was over. And you’re behind two reports from last week, as well.”

Tess tried to swallow the mortification so it didn’t show on her face. “I’ll have the reports turned in tonight before I leave.”

“Good. Good.” Captain Franks ran a hand over his balding head, looking moderately uncomfortable which was rare. “I know your father is...sick.”

But because she declined to say exactly what kind of sick, there was skepticism. She hated this treading-water feeling that was creeping up on her. Dad was getting worse and her life was starting to suffer. But the water kept lapping at her mouth, and she couldn’t find a way to swim toward the shore.

“It’s been a rough month. I’ll get it under control, Captain. I just...we don’t have anyone else.” She didn’t entertain tears, or her voice breaking, though both battled for prominence. Luckily she had a lot of practice fighting those things into submission.

“I know, Camden. You’re an excellent officer, but we’re also seeing our crime rates rise with the Dee’s Factory closing, and I need to know my men are on top of things.”

“I am. I am.”

“No more disappearing then. No matter how close to the end of your shift. No more late reports. I don’t want to have to write you up, but I can’t let things slide just because...”

Because she was a woman. Because her whole life was spinning plates on poles and she was so damn tired of spinning. But what other choice did she have? “Absolutely.”

“Have the reports in tonight.”

She nodded. The reports were both nearly done, but she’d had to leave them unfinished last night when Dad had called, not making any sense, minutes from getting himself arrested or worse.

“If things get really bad, you can always consider taking a leave of absence, but you can’t slack off when you’re here.”

“I understand. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s good to hear, Camden. How’s our new officer?”

“Good. Quiet, but seems to know what’s what.”

“Good.” Franks nodded to the door. “I have every confidence you’ll train him right.”

Tess nodded back and headed for the door. For some reason, Captain’s confidence only made her feel worse. The man had given her more praise in a dressing-down than her father had in years, and yet she was risking this to keep her father out of trouble.

He doesn’t mean it.

Tess closed the door behind her and forced stiff legs down the hall. Once she turned the corner, she leaned her forehead against the wall, her eyes squeezing shut.

She had to find some answers, or she had to let whatever happened to Dad...happen.

You can’t do that. Not when he’s the way he is because of you.

She hated that voice in her head. Because it was lies. Irrational lies. Mom had left because, well, who knew? But no matter how obnoxious a kid Tess had been, neither she nor her father had deserved being deserted.

It wasn’t Tess’s fault.

Why couldn’t you be a good little girl, Tessie? Why’d she have to leave because of you?

She hated that voice, too. Dad drunk and weeping. Shoveling all the blame on her shoulders. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t. But the guilt, no matter how irrational, plagued her. She’d been seven when he’d first said that to her, and she’d done everything she could to make it not true.

Twenty-some years later, it was still true in her father’s eyes, and even when she was able to remind herself it was all crap, the fact of the matter was, Dad had no one else. So what could she do?

She let out a long breath. Just like always, she was the only one who could find an answer, fix things. And, just like always, she would. She had since she was that seven-year-old girl. She pushed away from the wall, straightened and then cringed when she saw Santino standing a few feet away.

“Bad meeting?” he asked, sounding almost sympathetic.

San Francisco really had some timing, didn’t he? “No. It was fine. I’ve got some reports to finish up real quick. Is it asking too much if we stick around for a few minutes? Thirty, tops. You can order some dinner, on me. Use the gym. Walk around.”

He shrugged, which she couldn’t read. Was he put out? Okay with it? She sighed. “I’m finishing up reports. You want to see how we do it?”

“Sure.”

Want to say more than one word? Have emotions of any kind? Small talk like we’re colleagues? Oh, she was cranky and she knew it, but seriously, the guy could give a little, couldn’t he?

She marched to the computer room and plopped on a chair. She brought the computer to life and went through the report, how they did them, when they were due. Every last boring detail as she transcribed the rest of the events from her two incidents into the system.

“Any questions, San Francisco?”

“I’m not answering to that anymore.”

“Why not? It’s a hell of a lot better than some of the other nicknames I could come up with.”

“California is a hellhole.”

She snorted. “Do you have a secret sense of humor in there?”

“Nope.”

“I think you’re lying.” She sent her reports to the printer. Maybe the guy was just shy. Even after three days. She’d have to work on him some more.

“Camden.”