Bill leaned back in his chair with his fingers laced behind his head. “Sit down, Mike. When I first heard that you were coming. to this department… all the hype… the talk of the AJ program at U of Maryland… I was afraid. I thought I’d be workin’ fer you…”

“Would that be so bad?” Both men chuckled at Mike’s rapid fire quip.

Now the Captain rubbed his open palm across his jaw and sighed.

“Remember the pogues and politicians we both hated when we were in the Corps?”

Mike nodded once.

“They’re running this fuckin’ dog and pony show… and the fuckin’ high and mighty citizens…” The captain of the King County police department let gaze fell to the stack of files on his desk. “Well, they change their mind about as often as they change their underwear. That leaves us, jumpin’ through a different hoop every other week.” The chair groaned as the Captain sat forward and flipped through the stack of files quickly until he found the one he was searching for. With one tug he yanked the folder from the pile and placed it on top of the rest.

“I have to do this, ya know.”

Mike shrugged.

“A report came down from uh… one of the alphabet agencies in DC. I can’t let you see it… being suspended and all.” A gentle push on the top folder caused it slide to the middle of the Captain’s desk. “I have to piss. I’ll be back in,” the man was rising out of his chair and looking at his watch as he spoke. “In.. uh… five minutes. We need to finish this discussion.”

Bill adjusted his pants and sidled away from his desk striding down the hallway in slow even steps. The language made it abundantly clear: Bill wanted Mike to look at the “confidential” file while he was out of the office but couldn’t share it with him within the framework of employee and employer. This was the act of a friend to someone he respected and admired but given the short shrift within the political arena: the arena supported by those spectators that always yelled about the efforts of others but never invested any personal effort for fear of falling short or making the incorrect decision.

Mike picked up the folder his commander had separated from the rest of the pile and flipped it open. The first detail Mike spotted was the number of names listed after the “cc:” line. Courtesy copies is what they were called, but everybody knew that the names were really a list of political movers and shakers who would stand up to show support for any “hot button” issues that could further their political aspirations. A list of individuals who would not hesitate to throw their collective shoulder into any issue that could be addressed without actually requiring some concrete written commitments in regards to an action. Mike and Bill had jokingly referred to these on the “cc:” lists as CABS “citizens against bad stuff.” They had laughed at their characterization of these oft seen names on more than one occasion. The names Mike saw listed on the cover sheet were “the usual suspects.”

The rest of the document was nothing more than a litany, in time line form, charting each and every move Mike and the King County Police Department had taken to that point. The list was exhaustive, covering all actions up to and including the previous afternoon. But the last paragraph started with the line, “The afore mentioned agency is no closer to the apprehension of suspected principals at present than the date the crime was discovered. Given the extraordinary passage of time it is highly unlikely the guilty party will be in custody within the foreseeable future.”

The rest was nothing more than a brief rehashing of those most effected by the investigation, prominently displaying the most recognizable names from the Clinton Street Baptist Church and their television ministries (WSVR). Nothing in the two page report offered any suggested actions or directions. That was better left to the people who had to live with the consequences of those acts, rather than those whose career depended on exposing inadequacies rather than offering solutions.

Mike sighed, flipped the folder shut and tossed it back onto the Captain’s desk. No mention was made of any individuals who might be held up to public scrutiny as the “responsible parties,” but instead a soft pedaled blanket statement followed that “there was a failing at some level within the chain of investigation.” Mike knew the lingo. It meant someone would be crucified, probably demoted and in a few months reinstated back to their former function supposedly apologetic and wiser for their previous failings.

The people listed on the “cc:” line had enough political savvy not to mention any one name individual as such. It was always better to let someone else make those decisions just in case it might reflect poorly in a future Congressional Subcommittee’s final report.

Mike knew those on this list would never cry “wolf” even it their collective leg between the jaws of the beast but would but shout out a vague danger’s call if a mosquito targeted the herd. It was that “hand’s in the pocket” sort of diatribe both Bill and Mike found detestable because of the great ease with which those, who cried out the loudest, could shift their voice, backing one horse then another as the jockeys rounded the clubhouse turn. No one on the list stuck with an argument any longer than the retributions, opting instead to duck their heads back inside their shell to prevent decapitation.

Bill Cobin walked back into his office. “Mike, I’ll put you in…” the captain of the division and Mike’s friend pushed aside the stack of files and peered an eight and half by eleven inch piece of paper taped to his desk,”… as the Desk Sergeant for uh night shift, we’ve talking about getting a second one for a while… Or you can stay with homicide if you want. I’m not even gonna fill your position.”

“Maybe I should take some time… off.” Mike stammered.

“Mike, it’s not permanent. It’s just a temporary thing coming from the… I don’t know. Somebody bucking for a promotion in the State Bureau, I guess. Even they know it’s a temporary thing. Till this blows over in DC.”

Mike pursed his lips. “I’m not sure I wanna do this anymore, Bill.”

“Mike, this is nothing. You’ll be back at it in no time…” the captain was pleading with his friend to reconsider.

“I’m… not sure… I’ll ever be back… Bill.”

“Mike, come on. I need you here. You’re a better investigator, in your sleep, than just about anybody else in the state.”

Mike stared at Bill’s desk, not moving.

“And you know, you’ll take this chair when I retire.” Many within the department saw Mike as the heir apparent to Bill Cobin’s position as the Captain of King County police Department

Mike licked his lips before he spoke haltingly. “I’m not happy, with… what I’m doing any more.” Eyes still resting on the dark wood of his boss’s desk, Mike continued almost embarrassed, feeling like he was letting this man down somehow.

“It’s just… too many dead ends… not enough… good things,” Mike looked up at Bill, holding his gaze so that his eyes might actually plead his case better than wavering words.

“Don’t you ever feel like we’re never going anyway?” Mike asked softly.

Bill re-examined the files on his desk briefly. “Yeah. But I’m not as smart as you are… So what am I gonna do?”

“It’s not smart, Bill. It’s just ‘eyes open.’” Mike shook his head.

Bill took a breath, held it, and then spoke quietly. “I’ll give you a couple of… weeks off to… reconsider.” He added quickly, “And I want you to reconsider.

“Mike, you’re the best cop I’ve ever seen… don’t throw that ability away because of some…” Bill picked up the offending file and tossed it into the trash can. “Pogues, with their panties in a bunch.”

Mike knew his boss would retrieve the file again after their meeting was over. Bill learned this technique from Mike.

A new detective had been accused of some minor infraction and Mike briefed the man about the complaint. With Bill sitting in on the briefing, Mike finished the conversation by tossing the complaint into the trash. The new detective appeared relieved and thanked Mike for his vote of confidence.

Once the man left his office Mike dug the paper work out of the waste basket and brushed it off replying to Bill’s smirk, “Just in case he does something stupid.” The pair shared a laugh over that.

Now, it surprised Mike that Bill pulled the same ruse when everything inside Mike’s gut was telling him to get out while he still had a clear path to navigate.

Rising from his chair stared at his boss openly. “I’ll go clear out my desk…”

“No. Mike, it’s not like that…” Bill Cobin pleaded.

With a strange smile pasted on his face Mike nodded to assure his boss “it was like that.”

“Fill the position, Bill.” Mike answered quietly.

Bill Cobin turned his head away opting to peer out the window rather than hold the gaze of his good friend and his chosen heir apparent.

Mike showed up on Lydia’s doorstep feeling free; free from the trials he was subject to as a cop, free from the prying eyes of the public, free to make any mark on this earth that he wanted.

“Hi, Lydia,” Mike smiled broadly at her at she tugged open the door.

She snapped her free hand to her hip and grinned back at him. “Well if it isn’t my favorite cop.” She dipped her head as she laughed. “Come on in, Mike.”

Mike felt giddy in his new-found freedom and he sat down quickly but rose up again as Lydia followed him into the room and sat on the couch across from him.

“Always, the gentleman…” she remarked coyly.

Mike chuckled and remembered without looking at his notebook: language. He had been working to clean his rough verbiage for a while and this was his time to shine.

A silly grin rest on his face.

“What?” Lydia begged grinning in response.

“Um, does the offer from the other day, uh night… still stand?”

She smirked at him. “What offer was that?” Tipping her head she wanted to prolong their verbal fencing.

He grew serious. “To make… to make love to you?” He was breathless with anticipation.

Lydia searched his eyes briefly. “Yes,” she whispered also breathing heavily staring at him expectantly.

Mike pursed his lips for emotional control before he nodded. “Good,” was all he said.

Her shoulder’s fell when she saw Mike was only testing the water: hoping he still had an opening into her life. She would tell others, that was the moment she fell in love with Mike Joseph the former Chief Detective of the King County Police Department.

They spent the rest of the afternoon together but Mike didn’t collect on her offer that day or that night, even. Mike wanted to feel good about himself when the moment of supreme pleasure arrived. Till then he just wanted to be close to Lydia to share her time.

*****

Mike unwrapped the computer examining each and every fitting and plug.

“Dad, are you gonna catalogue the contents of this box or are we gonna hook it?” Prudence asked with heavy sigh.

“Are you the impatient girl?” He pronounced quietly.

Shaking her head Prudence began digging through the contents. “It’s a not a ‘you-build-it’ thing. Okay? Everything’s here I guarantee.”

Mike smiled at his daughter as she sorted the plugs and pushed the white box into the middle of his dining room table.

“Okay,” she started pedantically. “This is the CPU, that’s ‘central processing unit.’”

Mike smirked at his daughter’s gruff academic tone.

Prudence stopped. “Are you listening?”

“I am now.” Mike answered.

“Good,” Prudence popped. “You’re gonna get exactly what I get.” She wrinkled up her nose at her father before she burst into laughter.

The pair had the computer assembled and they were navigating the internet within the hour.

“You know, Melissa Anson was doing her business on the internet, don’t you?” Mike asked with some reverence at her expertice.

“Sure, dad. I read the paper.” She replied quietly.

Mike sucked in several breaths as though ready to speak but no words would come out. At last Prudence turned towards him.

“I know, daddy. It was a terrible thing. Don’t worry about me. Okay?”

Mike nodded and threw his arm around his daughter’s slender shoulders as she showed him the internet protocols and answered his detailed questions. They had a pizza for dinner while Prudence continued to assist her father in the “care and feeding” of a computer.

Prudence spent the night at his apartment sleeping in his bed while he stretched out on the couch. He felt good about the time they shared and wondered silently at what point he should introduce Prudence to Lydia, hoping the two most important women in his life might find some common ground besides him to share.

The his thoughts drifted to Lizzy.

In the morning he dropped Prudence at home and swung by Saint Jude’s to check on Billy.

Strolling past the nurses’ station Nurse Bridges glanced up at him over her glasses, sighed heavily and returned to the patient files she was studying.

Mike fought the smirk he felt growing on his lips. Pushing open the door to Billie’s room he saw the source of the Head Nurse’s exasperation.

Billie sat in her bed, arm crossed, glowering at Mike as he entered, on the floor were more NA and AA pamphlets. This time Mike didn’t both to pick them up, walked straight to the window instead to throw it open.

“Beautiful morning, huh?” Mike offered in a chipper voice.

“Get me outta here, cop,” she growled.

“Nah, I’ll shoot ya first,” he smiled weakly at the girl approaching her bed to fiddle with the covers. She kicked at the blankets that he had smoothed out never changing the scowl on her young lips.

“I wanna go home.”

Mike stopped and turned to catch the girl’s gaze. “Really? To Indiana?” Billie’s rap sheet had her home of record listed as a suburb of the northern western corner of the Hoosier state: more than 600 miles from Saint Judes.

“Humph!” Billy snapped her glare out the window, crossing her arms in disgust as she did.

“You know Lizzy, was pretty easy to talk to… and she found I was pretty easy to talk to.” Mike started slowly.

“Good, maybe you can marry her,” Billy snapped.

“What is that: ‘k-i-s-s-i-n-g?’” Mike asked referring to the first grade rhyme.

“Shut up,” Billie chuckled. “I don’t wanna laugh.”

Mike sucked his lips into mouth and bit down bobbing his head around like a bird pecking at seeds.

“Fuck you!” Billie continued to laugh.

Mike sucked in a loud breath. “Tsk tsk, I don’t use that language anymore.”

“I wanna be just like you when I grow up,” Billie replied sardonically.

Mike grew serious now. “You gotta have time to grow up, first.” Billie was no longer laughing instead styaring at the floor where the pamphlets lay in a pile.

“Maybe, I don’t want that.” Billie voice was meek and Mike picked this moment to sit on the edge of the bed next to her.

“It’s not so bad…” Mike hesitated. “Especially, if you find someone you like and… can be with…”

Billie turned her face towards Mike’s. “Like your girlfriend, Lizzy?” She said in a droll voice.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”He answered plainly. “But yeah like, Lizzy. She’s a good friend. Someone I really like. I can tell her things I wouldn’t tell anybody else.”

“Why? Just because you fucked her?” Billie glared at Mike.

“No, I never touched her… except to give a hug once in a while.” Mike cocked his head. “Didn’t she tell you?”

The years Mike had spent as an investigator, the best investigator, paid off in trump cards now. A change swept over the girl’s eyes detailing a pathway Mike might exploit to reach this girl. A pathway begging for some traveler who could share it with this lost soul.

Tears rested on her eyelids as she stared at him.

“She did tell you, didn’t she?” Mike continued softly.

Billie blinked sending tears streaming down her cheeks.

Staring at the rumpled covers Mike tugged them tight once again but this time Billie didn’t lash out.

He stood and glanced up at her, dropping his gaze to the floor once again. Shaking his head gently he finished, “I’ll be back tomorrow, to check on you.”

Billie could only blink with her secret so open to this man. Mike realized the girl must have felt more exposed then, than during any tryst for pay no matter how degrading the act. Mike could feel the red-faced heat of her embarrassment, wishing to hide herself from this man who could see inside her. She, having no screen to cover herself, sat frozen in her sorrow at being discovered by a cop: the enemy.

Mike wanted to give the girl some room: room to cry, to self-examine, to wallow in self pity until she could surface once again ready to grasp anything new, no matter how uncool it might seem on the surface.

The sniff Mike heard from the hospital bed pulled him inside out but he knew she needed to find her own depths before she could be reached.

Stopping by the nurse’s station, Mike smiled at the hard-working Nurse Bridges. “I was kind of hard on Billie maybe you can… talk to her later?”

The woman peered over the top of her glasses with a modicum of disdain at Mike. “We’ll take care of her, Detective Joseph,” she replied in an even tone. Mike smiled broadly at the woman now.

“Thanks, you old softy.” Mike said glibbly.

The woman sighed heavily and slapped the file in her hands shut with a loud “clap” before she hustled out of the station to her rounds.