William Bernhardt - Dark Eye

“Right. Throw in the towel. Call it quits.”

“But-”

The Shepherds were also in his office, at my invitation. “I just wanted you all to know. The battle is over.”

“But Susan-” The lawyer leaned forward. “Do you understand what will be the consequences of this action?”

“Yeah. I get that.” There was a sudden thickness in my chest that I tried to ignore. At any rate, I wasn’t going to let it show. “Just get me some visitation rights, okay? So I can see her every now and again.”

“That won’t be any problem,” Mr. Shepherd said. “Whatever you want.”

I turned toward him, shutting the lawyer out. “You’ve been pretty hostile to me in the past.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s possible that… my opinion has changed.”

His wife cut in. “I don’t want to intrude, but… may I ask why you’re doing this?”

I sucked in my breath. “Because you’re better for her than I am. I know that now. I guess I always did, really, but I didn’t want to admit it. I’m not saying this is forever-I’m going to try like hell to pull myself together, and if I do, I’ll want to talk about custody again. But for now-this is best for Rachel.”

Mr. Shepherd held out his hand. “You’re doing the right thing, Lieutenant.”

I took the hand with my good arm and shook it firmly. “I know I am. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Take good care of my girl, okay?”

“We will. And Lieutenant?”

“Yeah?”

“You take good care of yourself.”

One last stop before the hearing. I could tell Lisa didn’t think this was a good idea, but she took me anyway. Let me stop by the florist, then onward.

Not many people at the cemetery this time of day. A groundskeeper, a few scattered mourners. Found David’s grave in no time at all. It looked pretty scruffy, barren, unkempt. ’Course, I hadn’t been here since the day he was interred.

I stood there just staring at the grave for the longest time before I finally spoke. “Look, it’s not like it was a gigantic surprise or anything. I knew that you were… confused. I knew your interest in me… sexually… was declining. I’d seen the way you turned away whenever a hot-looking guy passed us in the mall. How unconvincing you were, laughing much too loudly whenever Granger made crude remarks about a Super Bowl cheerleader’s anatomy. And I know, intellectually, as a psychologist, that it was no reflection on me. Not that that’s stopped me from engaging in humiliating, degrading affairs, desperately trying to prove to myself that I might actually be desirable to someone.”

I drew in my breath, then slowly released it. “My point is, I had my suspicions for a long time. I just didn’t expect to have them confirmed the way I did. To come home and find you… you…”

I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead, trying to stop the mental movie from replaying. “I’m sorry I threw that huge fit in the office. I had no right to do that, not in front of your friends, co-workers, even if they didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. They still don’t know. I never told anyone and I never will. But what you did, David-” I felt myself tearing up, something I promised myself I would not do. I steeled myself, then started again.

“I mean, bottom line, I didn’t care about any of that. You were what you were. But whatever you were… I needed you. Rachel needed you. And to just… leave us like that, leave me feeling guilty and betrayed and… alone. That was what hurt, David. That was what screwed me up the most. That was what I couldn’t forget-or forgive. We didn’t get a chance to work it out. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.”

The wind whistled through the barren oaks that dotted the yellow field. A few crows circled overhead, singing their sad songs. “But you were right. It’s time to move on, sugar bear.”

I crouched down and laid a single red rose across his resting place. “Consider yourself forgiven.”

The Bad Man still comes for me, but he comes in my dreams. Daddy says that it isn’t real but it is real I know it is just like I dreamed that Mommy would leave and she did and she never came back and now the Bad Man is dead but he keeps coming for me and I don’t know when he will ever stop.

I saw Susan in the hospital and she looked broken but better and I asked one of the doctors who looked at me like I was a weirdo but he told me she could still have babies and that made me happy.

I don’t miss the Bad Man but I miss being a policeman. I’m glad Susan is getting out of the hospital so I can be a policeman again. Susan is my friend. Everything has been better since she came to see my dad that night and I don’t know if she knows that she makes me happy but she makes me get tingly when she winks at me and has sort of a happiness beam that she shoots out and I feel like I could do more things when she’s around I feel like I could do anything I could focus like my dad tells me to focus focus and I could be of use to people. If Susan wanted me to.

It’s lonely here without my dad. I used to dream about being alone and not having my dad scowling and being disappointed in me all the time but now that he is gone it isn’t nearly as nice as I thought it was going to be.

I was feeling fairly buoyant when I hobbled into the hearing. And devastated when I left. Like what little I had left had been ripped away from me. As if I had nothing, nothing at all.

Never being one to display much decorum, much less sense, I confronted him in his hospital room.

“You did this to me, didn’t you?”

O’Bannon sat up. “What are you talking about?”

“I had my hearing today. With IA. For reinstatement.”

“How did it go?”

“I thought it went brilliantly. They complimented me on my work on the Edgar case. Talked about the pleasure they got from the fact that all those FBI dudes went home empty-handed while one of theirs made the collar. Talked about my impressive courage and resilience. How I seemed to be conquering my personal demons. I thought I had it made in the shade.”

“And?”

I punched his pillow. “And then they pulled out the report you filed. You blackballed me, you son of a bitch.”

“Hardly that. I just said-”

“You knew they wouldn’t reinstate me against your wishes. Your recommendation was critical!”

“Susan, listen to me.”

“Why should I, you bastard? I did your dirty work for you! I caught your killer. I even-I even-what he did to me-” I broke down. Just lost it.

O’Bannon intervened. “Susan, stop.”

“Why should I?” I screamed. “I wanted my job back! Don’t you understand-it’s all I have left!”

He looked at me with tired, cheerless eyes. “You’re not ready, Susan.”

“Who the hell are you to judge?”

“You know it as well as I do. If I reinstate you, that means you carry a gun. That means maybe a partner depends on you for their life. Are you ready for that kind of responsibility?”

“I caught Edgar!”

“You’re an alcoholic, Susan. We both know it. I think you’re trying to pull yourself out of that gutter, but how can I know whether you’ll make it? You’re a brilliant behaviorist, but until I’m certain you’re one hundred percent, I will not put another officer’s life in your hands.”

I fell back in my chair, feeling all the pain, the hurt, the futility wash over me. “What can I do?”

“You can go back to those IOP meetings, for starters. Join AA. Get a sponsor. Read the Big Book. Work the steps.”

“I’m not the talky-feely type.”

“You’ll force yourself. You’ll get better. And when your doctor tells me you’re solid, I’ll put you back on the team. In the meantime, your consultation contract continues. Believe me, I can find plenty for you to do. You won’t be bored.”