| General Fiction posted May 30, 2020 | Chapters: |
1 2 -3- 4... 
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It started like any other day. It wasn't.
A chapter in the book Looking for Orion - 2
In the Beginning - part 3
by DeboraDyess
Previously: Jack McClellan and his wife and sister-in-law are preparing a surprise party for his brother, Cody. During the preparations, Jack recieves a phone call from his brother's partner.
"It can't be Pam, Rudy. I just talked to her ... not 15 minutes ago. She's on her way back here. She's just running a little late. She'll be here any minute."
"No, she won't, Jack." Rudy stopped talking abruptly, trying to maintain control. The wail of another siren drifted hollowly through the phone line. "It's her."
Jack squeezed his eyes closed. The smell of catered barbeque drifting in from the kitchen suddenly nauseated him. He stared at a crocheted pillow top on the couch. "What happened?" he asked, too stunned to put Rudy's comments together and make sense of what he'd been told.
"A robbery; a stupid robbery. They shot her for forty bucks."
Jack shook his head again, horror blocking out the room around him. His mind reeled and he grasped frantically for a reason that this couldn't be true.
"We're at Remy Square. Near the ATM."
The bakery was at Remy Square. Jack shut his eyes again. "Damn."
Laine looked scared now. She tried to catch his eyes with hers, her face etched, her excitement destroyed. Jack pulled her into his arms, holding her tighter than he'd intended, relaxing his grasp when she grunted softly. His mother stepped into the room, her head back, crystalline laughter preceding her. But seeing Jack's expression as he looked toward her she paled, reached for support that wasn't there and stumbled. A desk sergeant who had worked with Jack and Cody's father caught her and guided her to a chair. Jack watched, acutely aware that now every eye in the room stared into his face; that every conversation had ceased. The desk sergeant knelt beside Rachel, took her hand gently and stared at Jack, grimly awaiting the bombshell.
Jack croaked hoarsely, "The kids. Are the kids okay?"
"Not hurt. Hurry, Jack. Hurry."
It took slightly less than twenty minutes for Jack, Laine and Rachel to arrive at the dark parking lot of the shopping center, but the drive felt like it took forever. Laine, pressed as close against Jack as physically possible, clutched his knee in a steel-hard grasp totally outside of her character. Rachel sat next to her, staring blankly out the dark passenger window, unaware of passing traffic or early Christmas decorations. She held her arms tightly across her chest, rubbing ungloved hands over the smoothness of her coat as if trying to warm herself. Silence penetrated the car and wore against the threesome's frail emotions. No one said a word, afraid that any sound would make the nightmare real. Rain, which had come and gone all day, sprinkled the windshield with a fine, even mist. Jack turned the wipers on as he pulled into the parking lot, streaking the tinted glass, turning the world into a blur.
Rachel left the car as soon as Jack stopped it, but he and Laine sat still for a minute after he turned off the ignition, protected for a little longer from reality by the streaked glass. Hand in hand they slid out the driver's side of the car, looked around, blinking and frowning as if they stepped from the Bronco into an alien world.
The red lights of police cars bounced off the wet asphalt and glowed in shallow puddles, making everything appear surreal and unnatural. The night smelled of rain and wet tires. A somber quiet hung over the area, officers talking quietly, spectators whispering.
They found Cody sitting on a curb, hugging his children tightly against him. His eyes were locked on the spot where his wife's body lay. Rudy paced close by, looking miserable and helpless.
Laine walked as close to her fallen friend as crime-scene tape allowed and knelt, staring in disbelief at the shrouded body. She watched a gust of wind tug at the edge of the coveirng and began to cry softly. An officer stepped close, urging her to return to her car, and she raised empty, confused eyes to him.
Rachel gathered a sleepy, crying Katie into her arms. The petite child leaned into her grandmother and whispered, "Gran, why is my mommy sleeping in the rain?"
Rachel hugged her, sorrow closing her throat.
Michael refused to let go of his father, who sat stone-like, seeming not to notice the arrival of his parent or brother.
Jack knelt beside him. "Code," he started, but didn't know what to say after that. He put a hand on his brother's tense shoulder.
Cody looked up at him. He looked as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him, like he'd lost himself in another place. "She's gone, Jack," he whispered. He swallowed hard, took a breath and seemed to hold it before asking, "What am I going to do?"
Jack remained silent and shook his head mutely.
"I've loved her since I was 16-years-old. Not one day has passed that I haven't thought of her. What am I going to do?"
Michael told them later, through hiccups and sobs, that they'd arrived at the small bakery late. They were getting ready to close, and Pam realized she was out of checks. The little bakery didn't take plastic. She'd frequented the Mom-and-Pop sweet shop for several years, and the owners agreed to wait for her to return with cash. Pam loaded the kids back into the car to drive the short distance to the ATM.
"Sh-she said she'd be right back," Michael sobbed, leaning against his father. "But she didn't come back, Dad. She didn't come back."
"I know." Cody stroked his son's hair, pulled the boy against him and leaned down, putting his cheek against the top of Michael's head.
"I just s-sat there, pouting about the weather and about Katie bugging me all the time, and ... she didn't come back. I just sat there, Dad! I just sat there, and -"
"Calm down," Cody whispered. "Calm down, Michael. This isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."
Michael began to nod his head, not lifting it from his father's shoulder. "Yes, I did! I just ..." he sniffed back tears, "just sat there and watched! I just sat there and let him, let him sh-shoot her and leave!"
"You couldn't have stopped him."
"I could have done s-something besides sit in the stupid c-car!"
Cody shook his head gently, his face ashen. "You could've gotten yourself and Katie killed, too, but you couldn't have stopped this." He appeared sick at the thought, his lips tightening into a hard, thin line.
Jack wondered if he'd make it through the night - if any of them would make it through the night, or if the robber had killed them all.
"Thank you, Michael," Cody whispered, "for not drawing attention to the car."
A thundercloud passed over the moon, cutting its light. It felt like it would stay over them forever.
Neither brother was allowed to work the case. Homicide assigned it to two more-than competent detectives, both of whom Jack knew well and had respected until the investigation. During that time, however, he found himself second-guessing their every move, questioning every decision. An arrest was made shortly after Pam's funeral, leaving Jack's misplaced anger nowhere to light.
Cody arrived at the precinct four hours later. He made his way past silent colleagues, accepting awkward condolences with an expressionless nod. He tapped on the captain's door, entered and laid his badge and gun on the desk. "I'm done." He turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door as Captain Evans spoke.
"Let's wait on this, Cody. Don't make any decisions now that you'll regret later. You've got leave - take it. Take as long as you want, but don't do this. You're a cop. You come from cops. It's part of you. You can't just change who you are."
Cody didn't turn around, but stared at the deep brown of the metal door jamb. He put his hand on the knob, aware of its coolness. "I arrested him three weeks ago. I checked the logs; three weeks ago today, Cap'n."
The captain nodded, rubbing a weathered hand across tired eyes. Putting his elbow on his desk, he rubbed his hand across his mouth for a minute, staring at the badge in front of him. "Yeah...for possession and assault. But he made bail. You're not responsible for this."
Cody turned, but stared out the window just behind Evans' head. "I thought I was making a difference, you know?" He almost smiled his mouth pale, eyes swollen. "That sounds moronic, doesn't it? But I've got to wonder ... how many times has this happened? How many times has it happened and I don't know about it because it's not me that gets slammed by the system?"
"We're cops. We play one part in a larger game. We can't be responsible for all of it."
Cody made eye contact. "It's not a game." He looked down, apparently interested in the flooring. "I'm sorry, Cap'n," he nearly whispered. "I don't think I can do this anymore. I don't think I want to."
Some days never go away. Every sound, every smell, each item seen or touched stays. It never changes, it never fades. Those are the days that make or break a person.
It was a single day that nearly broke Jack. It nearly broke them all.
Previously: Jack McClellan and his wife and sister-in-law are preparing a surprise party for his brother, Cody. During the preparations, Jack recieves a phone call from his brother's partner.
"It can't be Pam, Rudy. I just talked to her ... not 15 minutes ago. She's on her way back here. She's just running a little late. She'll be here any minute."
"No, she won't, Jack." Rudy stopped talking abruptly, trying to maintain control. The wail of another siren drifted hollowly through the phone line. "It's her."
Jack squeezed his eyes closed. The smell of catered barbeque drifting in from the kitchen suddenly nauseated him. He stared at a crocheted pillow top on the couch. "What happened?" he asked, too stunned to put Rudy's comments together and make sense of what he'd been told.
"A robbery; a stupid robbery. They shot her for forty bucks."
Jack shook his head again, horror blocking out the room around him. His mind reeled and he grasped frantically for a reason that this couldn't be true.
"We're at Remy Square. Near the ATM."
The bakery was at Remy Square. Jack shut his eyes again. "Damn."
Laine looked scared now. She tried to catch his eyes with hers, her face etched, her excitement destroyed. Jack pulled her into his arms, holding her tighter than he'd intended, relaxing his grasp when she grunted softly. His mother stepped into the room, her head back, crystalline laughter preceding her. But seeing Jack's expression as he looked toward her she paled, reached for support that wasn't there and stumbled. A desk sergeant who had worked with Jack and Cody's father caught her and guided her to a chair. Jack watched, acutely aware that now every eye in the room stared into his face; that every conversation had ceased. The desk sergeant knelt beside Rachel, took her hand gently and stared at Jack, grimly awaiting the bombshell.
Jack croaked hoarsely, "The kids. Are the kids okay?"
"Not hurt. Hurry, Jack. Hurry."
It took slightly less than twenty minutes for Jack, Laine and Rachel to arrive at the dark parking lot of the shopping center, but the drive felt like it took forever. Laine, pressed as close against Jack as physically possible, clutched his knee in a steel-hard grasp totally outside of her character. Rachel sat next to her, staring blankly out the dark passenger window, unaware of passing traffic or early Christmas decorations. She held her arms tightly across her chest, rubbing ungloved hands over the smoothness of her coat as if trying to warm herself. Silence penetrated the car and wore against the threesome's frail emotions. No one said a word, afraid that any sound would make the nightmare real. Rain, which had come and gone all day, sprinkled the windshield with a fine, even mist. Jack turned the wipers on as he pulled into the parking lot, streaking the tinted glass, turning the world into a blur.
Rachel left the car as soon as Jack stopped it, but he and Laine sat still for a minute after he turned off the ignition, protected for a little longer from reality by the streaked glass. Hand in hand they slid out the driver's side of the car, looked around, blinking and frowning as if they stepped from the Bronco into an alien world.
The red lights of police cars bounced off the wet asphalt and glowed in shallow puddles, making everything appear surreal and unnatural. The night smelled of rain and wet tires. A somber quiet hung over the area, officers talking quietly, spectators whispering.
They found Cody sitting on a curb, hugging his children tightly against him. His eyes were locked on the spot where his wife's body lay. Rudy paced close by, looking miserable and helpless.
Laine walked as close to her fallen friend as crime-scene tape allowed and knelt, staring in disbelief at the shrouded body. She watched a gust of wind tug at the edge of the coveirng and began to cry softly. An officer stepped close, urging her to return to her car, and she raised empty, confused eyes to him.
Rachel gathered a sleepy, crying Katie into her arms. The petite child leaned into her grandmother and whispered, "Gran, why is my mommy sleeping in the rain?"
Rachel hugged her, sorrow closing her throat.
Michael refused to let go of his father, who sat stone-like, seeming not to notice the arrival of his parent or brother.
Jack knelt beside him. "Code," he started, but didn't know what to say after that. He put a hand on his brother's tense shoulder.
Cody looked up at him. He looked as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him, like he'd lost himself in another place. "She's gone, Jack," he whispered. He swallowed hard, took a breath and seemed to hold it before asking, "What am I going to do?"
Jack remained silent and shook his head mutely.
"I've loved her since I was 16-years-old. Not one day has passed that I haven't thought of her. What am I going to do?"
Michael told them later, through hiccups and sobs, that they'd arrived at the small bakery late. They were getting ready to close, and Pam realized she was out of checks. The little bakery didn't take plastic. She'd frequented the Mom-and-Pop sweet shop for several years, and the owners agreed to wait for her to return with cash. Pam loaded the kids back into the car to drive the short distance to the ATM.
"Sh-she said she'd be right back," Michael sobbed, leaning against his father. "But she didn't come back, Dad. She didn't come back."
"I know." Cody stroked his son's hair, pulled the boy against him and leaned down, putting his cheek against the top of Michael's head.
"I just s-sat there, pouting about the weather and about Katie bugging me all the time, and ... she didn't come back. I just sat there, Dad! I just sat there, and -"
"Calm down," Cody whispered. "Calm down, Michael. This isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."
Michael began to nod his head, not lifting it from his father's shoulder. "Yes, I did! I just ..." he sniffed back tears, "just sat there and watched! I just sat there and let him, let him sh-shoot her and leave!"
"You couldn't have stopped him."
"I could have done s-something besides sit in the stupid c-car!"
Cody shook his head gently, his face ashen. "You could've gotten yourself and Katie killed, too, but you couldn't have stopped this." He appeared sick at the thought, his lips tightening into a hard, thin line.
Jack wondered if he'd make it through the night - if any of them would make it through the night, or if the robber had killed them all.
"Thank you, Michael," Cody whispered, "for not drawing attention to the car."
A thundercloud passed over the moon, cutting its light. It felt like it would stay over them forever.
Neither brother was allowed to work the case. Homicide assigned it to two more-than competent detectives, both of whom Jack knew well and had respected until the investigation. During that time, however, he found himself second-guessing their every move, questioning every decision. An arrest was made shortly after Pam's funeral, leaving Jack's misplaced anger nowhere to light.
Cody arrived at the precinct four hours later. He made his way past silent colleagues, accepting awkward condolences with an expressionless nod. He tapped on the captain's door, entered and laid his badge and gun on the desk. "I'm done." He turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door as Captain Evans spoke.
"Let's wait on this, Cody. Don't make any decisions now that you'll regret later. You've got leave - take it. Take as long as you want, but don't do this. You're a cop. You come from cops. It's part of you. You can't just change who you are."
Cody didn't turn around, but stared at the deep brown of the metal door jamb. He put his hand on the knob, aware of its coolness. "I arrested him three weeks ago. I checked the logs; three weeks ago today, Cap'n."
The captain nodded, rubbing a weathered hand across tired eyes. Putting his elbow on his desk, he rubbed his hand across his mouth for a minute, staring at the badge in front of him. "Yeah...for possession and assault. But he made bail. You're not responsible for this."
Cody turned, but stared out the window just behind Evans' head. "I thought I was making a difference, you know?" He almost smiled his mouth pale, eyes swollen. "That sounds moronic, doesn't it? But I've got to wonder ... how many times has this happened? How many times has it happened and I don't know about it because it's not me that gets slammed by the system?"
"We're cops. We play one part in a larger game. We can't be responsible for all of it."
Cody made eye contact. "It's not a game." He looked down, apparently interested in the flooring. "I'm sorry, Cap'n," he nearly whispered. "I don't think I can do this anymore. I don't think I want to."
Some days never go away. Every sound, every smell, each item seen or touched stays. It never changes, it never fades. Those are the days that make or break a person.
It was a single day that nearly broke Jack. It nearly broke them all.
"It can't be Pam, Rudy. I just talked to her ... not 15 minutes ago. She's on her way back here. She's just running a little late. She'll be here any minute."
"No, she won't, Jack." Rudy stopped talking abruptly, trying to maintain control. The wail of another siren drifted hollowly through the phone line. "It's her."
Jack squeezed his eyes closed. The smell of catered barbeque drifting in from the kitchen suddenly nauseated him. He stared at a crocheted pillow top on the couch. "What happened?" he asked, too stunned to put Rudy's comments together and make sense of what he'd been told.
"A robbery; a stupid robbery. They shot her for forty bucks."
Jack shook his head again, horror blocking out the room around him. His mind reeled and he grasped frantically for a reason that this couldn't be true.
"We're at Remy Square. Near the ATM."
The bakery was at Remy Square. Jack shut his eyes again. "Damn."
Laine looked scared now. She tried to catch his eyes with hers, her face etched, her excitement destroyed. Jack pulled her into his arms, holding her tighter than he'd intended, relaxing his grasp when she grunted softly. His mother stepped into the room, her head back, crystalline laughter preceding her. But seeing Jack's expression as he looked toward her she paled, reached for support that wasn't there and stumbled. A desk sergeant who had worked with Jack and Cody's father caught her and guided her to a chair. Jack watched, acutely aware that now every eye in the room stared into his face; that every conversation had ceased. The desk sergeant knelt beside Rachel, took her hand gently and stared at Jack, grimly awaiting the bombshell.
Jack croaked hoarsely, "The kids. Are the kids okay?"
"Not hurt. Hurry, Jack. Hurry."
It took slightly less than twenty minutes for Jack, Laine and Rachel to arrive at the dark parking lot of the shopping center, but the drive felt like it took forever. Laine, pressed as close against Jack as physically possible, clutched his knee in a steel-hard grasp totally outside of her character. Rachel sat next to her, staring blankly out the dark passenger window, unaware of passing traffic or early Christmas decorations. She held her arms tightly across her chest, rubbing ungloved hands over the smoothness of her coat as if trying to warm herself. Silence penetrated the car and wore against the threesome's frail emotions. No one said a word, afraid that any sound would make the nightmare real. Rain, which had come and gone all day, sprinkled the windshield with a fine, even mist. Jack turned the wipers on as he pulled into the parking lot, streaking the tinted glass, turning the world into a blur.
Rachel left the car as soon as Jack stopped it, but he and Laine sat still for a minute after he turned off the ignition, protected for a little longer from reality by the streaked glass. Hand in hand they slid out the driver's side of the car, looked around, blinking and frowning as if they stepped from the Bronco into an alien world.
The red lights of police cars bounced off the wet asphalt and glowed in shallow puddles, making everything appear surreal and unnatural. The night smelled of rain and wet tires. A somber quiet hung over the area, officers talking quietly, spectators whispering.
They found Cody sitting on a curb, hugging his children tightly against him. His eyes were locked on the spot where his wife's body lay. Rudy paced close by, looking miserable and helpless.
Laine walked as close to her fallen friend as crime-scene tape allowed and knelt, staring in disbelief at the shrouded body. She watched a gust of wind tug at the edge of the coveirng and began to cry softly. An officer stepped close, urging her to return to her car, and she raised empty, confused eyes to him.
Rachel gathered a sleepy, crying Katie into her arms. The petite child leaned into her grandmother and whispered, "Gran, why is my mommy sleeping in the rain?"
Rachel hugged her, sorrow closing her throat.
Michael refused to let go of his father, who sat stone-like, seeming not to notice the arrival of his parent or brother.
Jack knelt beside him. "Code," he started, but didn't know what to say after that. He put a hand on his brother's tense shoulder.
Cody looked up at him. He looked as if he'd had the wind knocked out of him, like he'd lost himself in another place. "She's gone, Jack," he whispered. He swallowed hard, took a breath and seemed to hold it before asking, "What am I going to do?"
Jack remained silent and shook his head mutely.
"I've loved her since I was 16-years-old. Not one day has passed that I haven't thought of her. What am I going to do?"
Michael told them later, through hiccups and sobs, that they'd arrived at the small bakery late. They were getting ready to close, and Pam realized she was out of checks. The little bakery didn't take plastic. She'd frequented the Mom-and-Pop sweet shop for several years, and the owners agreed to wait for her to return with cash. Pam loaded the kids back into the car to drive the short distance to the ATM.
"Sh-she said she'd be right back," Michael sobbed, leaning against his father. "But she didn't come back, Dad. She didn't come back."
"I know." Cody stroked his son's hair, pulled the boy against him and leaned down, putting his cheek against the top of Michael's head.
"I just s-sat there, pouting about the weather and about Katie bugging me all the time, and ... she didn't come back. I just sat there, Dad! I just sat there, and -"
"Calm down," Cody whispered. "Calm down, Michael. This isn't your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."
Michael began to nod his head, not lifting it from his father's shoulder. "Yes, I did! I just ..." he sniffed back tears, "just sat there and watched! I just sat there and let him, let him sh-shoot her and leave!"
"You couldn't have stopped him."
"I could have done s-something besides sit in the stupid c-car!"
Cody shook his head gently, his face ashen. "You could've gotten yourself and Katie killed, too, but you couldn't have stopped this." He appeared sick at the thought, his lips tightening into a hard, thin line.
Jack wondered if he'd make it through the night - if any of them would make it through the night, or if the robber had killed them all.
"Thank you, Michael," Cody whispered, "for not drawing attention to the car."
A thundercloud passed over the moon, cutting its light. It felt like it would stay over them forever.
Neither brother was allowed to work the case. Homicide assigned it to two more-than competent detectives, both of whom Jack knew well and had respected until the investigation. During that time, however, he found himself second-guessing their every move, questioning every decision. An arrest was made shortly after Pam's funeral, leaving Jack's misplaced anger nowhere to light.
Cody arrived at the precinct four hours later. He made his way past silent colleagues, accepting awkward condolences with an expressionless nod. He tapped on the captain's door, entered and laid his badge and gun on the desk. "I'm done." He turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door as Captain Evans spoke.
"Let's wait on this, Cody. Don't make any decisions now that you'll regret later. You've got leave - take it. Take as long as you want, but don't do this. You're a cop. You come from cops. It's part of you. You can't just change who you are."
Cody didn't turn around, but stared at the deep brown of the metal door jamb. He put his hand on the knob, aware of its coolness. "I arrested him three weeks ago. I checked the logs; three weeks ago today, Cap'n."
The captain nodded, rubbing a weathered hand across tired eyes. Putting his elbow on his desk, he rubbed his hand across his mouth for a minute, staring at the badge in front of him. "Yeah...for possession and assault. But he made bail. You're not responsible for this."
Cody turned, but stared out the window just behind Evans' head. "I thought I was making a difference, you know?" He almost smiled his mouth pale, eyes swollen. "That sounds moronic, doesn't it? But I've got to wonder ... how many times has this happened? How many times has it happened and I don't know about it because it's not me that gets slammed by the system?"
"We're cops. We play one part in a larger game. We can't be responsible for all of it."
Cody made eye contact. "It's not a game." He looked down, apparently interested in the flooring. "I'm sorry, Cap'n," he nearly whispered. "I don't think I can do this anymore. I don't think I want to."
Some days never go away. Every sound, every smell, each item seen or touched stays. It never changes, it never fades. Those are the days that make or break a person.
It was a single day that nearly broke Jack. It nearly broke them all.
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