Julia Spencer-Fleming - One Was a Soldier

“Eric?” McCrea got to his feet. He stumbled and listed to one side, favoring his right knee. The chief looked at him a long moment. “Get out to your unit and wait for me there.”

McCrea nodded. He limped out the kitchen door, not looking at Hadley. When he was gone, the chief crossed the floor. Got down on one knee next to McNabb. Took the man’s chin and gently turned his face side to side. McNabb moaned. “Jesus,” the chief said.

He stood. Fished his phone out of his pocket. Punched a single button. “Harlene? Russ. I want you to send an ambulance to 16 Musket Way.” He paused. “No. They’re fine. It’s for Wyler McNabb.” Another pause. “Just tell ’em it’s not a gunshot or a heart attack. And Harlene? Keep it off the radio. Use the phone.”

He hung up. Looked down at Hadley, looked into her, like he could see everything she had hidden away. Her stomach fluttered. She had to force herself not to drop her gaze. God. No wonder he got such good results in interrogations. “Knox. Hadley. What really happened?”

“What I told you, Chief. That’s what happened.”

“What you told me.”

She tucked her chin.

“That’s your story.”

She licked her lips. “That’s what happened.” To her horror, her eyes welled with tears. “I know I should have done better, Chief. I’m sorry.”

The chief sighed. “So am I, Hadley. So am I.”

The fifteen minutes before the ambulance arrived were some of the longest in Hadley’s life, and that included labor and delivery. When the EMTs finally bustled in, they were efficient and cheerful, taking McNabb’s vital signs, reporting to the ER by radio, not by word or glance suggesting something had gone badly wrong in this kitchen. When they hoisted McNabb on a stretcher and wheeled him outside, the chief jerked his head, indicating Hadley should follow.

He stopped her with a gesture beside McCrea’s car. Eric sat in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield with unfixed eyes. His usual sharp edges seemed blurred, as if someone had taken his picture and half-erased it.

“I want you to accompany the ambulance,” the chief told Hadley. She nodded. “Eric?” McCrea looked up. “Knox maintains that McNabb was injured because he resisted and attacked you.”

Eric glanced up at her, then dropped his eyes.

“ Even if that is true, you used excessive force. I’m suspending you. Two weeks without pay. Starting now. You’ll return your vehicle to the department and leave it there.” The chief held out his hand. “I want your service weapon and your badge now.”

McCrea gaped. “But…”

The chief braced a hand on the top of the car and leaned in. “If McNabb retains a lawyer, and if the board of aldermen demands an investigation, it’ll be a lot longer. Now give me your gun.”

“I have the right to a review.” McCrea’s voice was panicked. “I have that right.”

“Call your union rep and set up an appointment. In the meantime, I’m exercising my right to suspend you.”

McCrea looked at his lap, out the door, at the passenger seat of his cruiser. Anywhere except at the chief. Finally he retrieved his badge and passed it through the window to the chief. Then he leaned to one side and removed his gun from its holster. Handed it, butt side up, to the chief. The chief held the SIG SAUER up where they could all see it. He stared at the tracery of blood on the grip. “The authority we hold is based on the trust of the citizens of this town.” His voice was hard and tight. “When you abuse that trust, you shame yourself. You shame me. You shame everyone who wears our uniform.” He turned his head and stared at Hadley. She wanted to die. He pointed toward the ambulance, pulling into the road, its blue lights flashing. “Go.”

She fled to her car. Dove in, slamming the door behind her as if she could keep the shrieking harpies of her own conscience out with steel and glass. She started the ignition with a shaking hand. Wondered, as she lurched into gear and rolled after the ambulance, if any amount of shunning from her fellow officers could possibly feel as bad as this.

Russ stood outside the main entrance to the Washington County Hospital and shivered. The temperature had dropped twenty degrees when the sun went down, and there was for sure going to be frost on the pumpkin tonight. He should have worn his MKPD-issue parka.

The tap-tap of heels made him turn around. Lieutenant Colonel Arlene Seelye strode up the walk, her khaki skirt and trench coat standing in for a uniform. No matter how casually dressed, active duty military personnel never quite managed to look like civilians. Seelye didn’t.

“I appreciate you for inviting me along on this, Chief.” Her tone wasn’t warm, but she held out her hand.

He shook it. “Don’t thank me yet, Colonel. You can see if McNabb will agree to let you search the house. That’s as far as it goes.”

“I plan on asking him about his wife’s finances.”

He tilted his head. “After I find out what he knows about her death.”

“As you say.”

They entered the building side by side. It was eight fifteen, after visiting hours, and the corridors were mostly empty. Russ led her to the right elevator bank, and they rode to the third floor in silence. One of the hospital security guards was sitting outside McNabb’s room, scratching away with a pencil in a fat, floppy book. Russ plucked the man’s name from the back of his memory. “Hank. Hi. How’s he been?”

“Heya, Chief. Quiet as a mouse. He had a couple guys from work come to visit, and his mama and then his papa. She left mad, promisin’ she was gonna call a lawyer, and he left mad, saying the same thing. I guess they’ll have to hash it out between ’em.”

“Thanks. Why don’t you take a break while I talk with him?”

“Don’t mind if I do. My bladder can’t sit still more’n two hours these days anyway.” The guard ambled off, Sudoku puzzles flashing them at every step.

“He’s already in custody?” Seelye said.

“For resisting and assaulting an officer.” As much as it turned his stomach to do it, Russ was going to stand by the arrest. It was obvious, from Eric’s limp and his bloody nose, that McNabb had gotten a few good hits in.

They entered the single-bed room. Seelye inhaled sharply. Unfortunately, it was obvious that Eric had gotten in a hell of a lot more hits. The colonel looked at Russ like he was something nasty she found underneath the leaf pile. He wanted to explain, wanted to tell her We’re better than this, but what could he say? McNabb’s pulpy, bandaged, purpling face spoke damningly for itself.

McNabb stared at them while Russ pulled out a chair for Seelye and then sat down himself. “Wyler? I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Russ Van Alstyne, chief of police. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“He hit me. ” McNabb’s words were slurred by the damage to his cheek and jaw, but his tone was clear. “That bastard hit me. I didn’t do nothin’. I’m gonna sue him, and you, and the rest of the cops, and the goddamn town. You all gonna be taking tickets at the movies for a living when my lawyer gets through with you.”

“I’m not here to discuss what happened today.”

“Oh, I jus’ bet you’re not. How’m I supposed to work like this? I’m due to head off for another construction job at the end of this week. Who’s gonna make up for that if the doctor don’t clear me to go?”

“You’re not going anywhere in the immediate future, Wyler. You’re under arrest, remember?”

“Under arrest my ass. I was defending myself. No judge’s gonna hold me when they see what your cop did to me.”