Spring Tide (14 page)

The station felt both familiar and foreign to Stef as she walked through it Monday morning on her way to the captain’s office. She felt the eyes of her colleagues on her and told herself it was probably her imagination. She’d had no serious conversations with any of them since it happened and wondered what they really thought. She’d gotten plenty of pats on the back afterward, pats that said,
I’m sorry this happened to you, but I’m so grateful it didn’t happen to me.
And a lot of silent looks of pain which she wasn’t sure were for her or Molina.

The atmosphere around her in the first couple of weeks after it happened had been funereal. When she walked into a room, it immediately went silent. Nobody knew how to act or what to say, which was partly her fault, she knew, because she routinely deflected any genuine attempts at consolation, and to act as if nothing was wrong would have been ridiculously insensitive. So her co-workers were left with wordless expressions of sympathy. She had dreaded coming to the station the few times she had. But it had been over three months now since the shooting. Everybody else had been going about business as usual during all those weeks. Today, things were easier. A few of the guys greeted her with a wave, a smile, lighthearted acknowledgments.

“Hey, Byers!” someone called. She looked to see Terry Langley hailing her with a friendly smile. “Are you back? You owe me a beer, remember, for that bocce ball win.”

She jerked her chin up in a quick nod. “Like I could forget the one time I let you beat me!”

He chuckled. “Nice to see you.”

She was relieved at the friendly welcome, but she knew nobody had forgotten what had happened.

Once she was inside the captain’s office, he shut the door behind her.

Captain Shoemaker was a fleshy-faced man with a coarse gray mustache and an undisguisable gut concealing the wide belt holding up his uniform trousers. He was a good commander and fought hard for his officers when they needed his support. As she had these past several months. He’d done everything he could to keep her away from the official proceedings. He’d been the one to suggest she should get out of town and take a long vacation while the investigation was ongoing.

He eased into his oversized leather desk chair and smiled at her with obvious pride and joy, like a father. He felt that much responsibility for his officers. Stef appreciated his paternal attitude, but it made her a little uncomfortable. Her mother and father had divorced when she was five. Once her father had left her mother, he’d left his kids too. He didn’t visit, didn’t write. He’d gone on to start another family and his new kids absorbed his attention. They became his real family. Stef’s mother blamed his new wife, claimed she didn’t want him to have anything to do with his first family. Stef wasn’t sure what the reason was, but she knew there was bitterness between the adults. She didn’t really care. Just as her father had forgotten her, she’d forgotten him. Maybe her older brother had sometimes missed his father, but she had not. She was just fine without a father. So Shoemaker, sitting there with his moist blue eyes exuding parental affection, left her feeling grateful and embarrassed at the same time.

“IA has finished their investigation,” he announced.

“I figured.”

He handed an envelope across his desk. “This is the final report.”

She took it, searching his face for some clue to its contents.

“Go ahead,” he urged. “Read it. No surprises.”

Inside the envelope was a letter addressed to her. She scanned it quickly to assure herself it was the result she expected. Like she had told everyone else, she knew she’d be exonerated. She knew the investigation was just routine. Still, when it came right down to it, you couldn’t be a hundred percent sure of anything. There was still that nagging doubt, spurred on perhaps by her own personal feelings of guilt. Once she got the gist of the letter, that it was good news, she focused on the critical paragraph:

Based on the investigation surrounding your use of deadly force, your actions are exonerated. This finding means that the incident occurred but your actions were lawful and consistent with department policy.

She looked up to meet Shoemaker’s eyes.

“Welcome back, Byers!” he pronounced joyfully.

“Whoa!” She sucked in a deep breath. “So it’s over?”

“Completely over. The DA found no grounds to file charges. You’re cleared. Free to start back on the job tomorrow if you want.”

“It feels good,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was so nervous.”

“I myself was under investigation a couple times,” he said. “It makes you feel guilty of something just being asked all those questions.”

She nodded her agreement.

“So, no hurry, but when do you think you’ll be ready to come back?”

Stef shook her head slowly, her joy rapidly dissipating in the face of what she knew would be disappointing news to Shoemaker. “I’m not coming back.”

“What do you mean?” A scowl of confusion came over his face.

She pulled an envelope out of her bag. “I’ve got my letter of resignation right here.” She put it on the desk and pushed it toward him.”

He glanced at the envelope, then leaned back, his expression serious. “Talk to me.”

She shrugged, uncomfortable in this setting. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Maybe you just need more time. That’s not a problem. And more time with the shrink, on us, if you want. That’s what he’s there for.”

“I don’t think that’ll help. It’s not my thing.”

He frowned. “Look, Byers, things happen. It’s lousy, but that’s just the way it is in this business. You’ll get over it, in time. You decide how much time. Whatever you need.”

She shook her head. “The problem is, I can’t do my job because…”

He waited, watching her gravely.

“I wouldn’t be able to shoot a gun,” she said. “I don’t even think I could touch a gun. I start sweating every time I see one or even think about them. It wouldn’t be fair to the other guys to have me out there. If the time came to use deadly force, I’d choke.”

“Okay, I get it. The shrink can help you with that. You just gotta give him a chance.”

“A chance to do what exactly?”

“To get you over the hump, so you’ll be comfortable using a firearm. It’ll be second nature again.”

“I don’t think I want to be like that again. What’s the point?”

“You know what the point is. If we’re not out there, good, innocent people get hurt. Not everybody can do what we do, Byers. Those people depend on us. They respect us and they’re grateful to us. You’ve got a job to do. You’ve got the training, the right skills and the right attitude. You’re a good cop, and you owe it to me, to them and to yourself to get back on the streets. You can do it. I know you can. You’re tough.”

“Maybe I’m not as tough as you think.” Stef nervously rearranged herself in the chair.

Shoemaker gazed thoughtfully at her for a moment before asking, “How about you ease into it? You can have a non-patrol assignment for now.”

“You mean a desk job?”

“Right.”

“I can’t see myself doing that. I really appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but I’ve given this a lot of thought and I’ve just gotta do something else now.”

“What kinda something else?”

“Not real sure. I’ve never done anything else. I’ve wanted to be a cop since I was a little kid. But I’ll figure something out. For now, I’ve got a little place out in the Delta. Quiet. Relaxing. Just me and my dog.” She sucked a breath between her teeth. “
His
dog, I mean.”

Shoemaker gave her a look of sympathy. “Byers, you didn’t do anything wrong. It was an accident. Nobody blames you except you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Why do you ask?” He looked concerned.

“That day, at the funeral, all those cops staring at me.” She shook her head, remembering.

“It was compassion, Byers. They were all standing there thinking about how it could happen to any one of them, and feeling for you. They weren’t accusing.”

She nodded uncertainly, thinking he was probably right.

“If you don’t have anything else lined up, you may as well stay on admin leave for a while until you find another job.”

“You’ve already paid me three months for nothing. I don’t feel right doing that when I know I’m not coming back.”

“Stef,” he said in exasperation, “I’m trying to help you.”

She looked away to avoid his eyes, noting his unusual use of her first name.

“I’ve seen this before,” he said. “You’ve suffered a terrible blow. It’s knocked you down and it feels like you’ll never get up. Some guys never do. But you’re not one of those guys. You’re just impatient. You’re not giving yourself a chance. You’re too fucking hard on yourself and you won’t let anybody help you.” He looked seriously upset. “And you’re worrying me.”

“I’ll be okay.” She smiled to reassure him. “I’m not planning on jumping off any bridges.”

“Good!”

“Nothing like that,” she said lightly. “I’m going fishing.”

“Fishing?”

“That’s right. I bought a boat. I’m going to float around the rivers and catch some fish.”

He looked suspicious. “You ever fished before, Byers?”

“No, but it seems a lot of people get something out of it.”

He shook his head, then sighed. “Okay. I can see you’ve made up your mind. I’ll quit giving you a hard time. Go do what you need to do, but when you’re ready to come back, give me a call.”

“Thanks.” She picked up the letter that declared her innocent of any wrongdoing, tucking it into her bag. No matter how many reports said, “your actions are exonerated,” those words faded into a faint, near silence behind the prominent noise of Stef’s own haunting thoughts and memories. Still, this was the official verdict and it felt damn good.

***

“You bought a what?” Stef’s mother lowered herself into a kitchen chair, looking stricken, her face full of incomprehension.

Stef had anticipated this reaction, so she’d timed her announcement to follow on the terrific news she had just gotten from Internal Affairs, hoping some of her mother’s relief and joy over that would cushion the blow of her other news, the worst of which she had not yet delivered.

Kate Byers was fifty-three, a solidly built woman who stood five ten without shoes. She was a big woman, proportionately large all over, carrying a healthy weight for her age and frame. She had always considered herself unattractive, or more accurately, scary to most men who seemed to prefer women to be smaller than they are. “Men are afraid of me,” she would say with regularity, whenever some situation didn’t go well with a man, whether it was a date or a job interview or a conflict with a store clerk.

Stef and her brothers had taken their mother’s assessment at face value. As a result, Stef had always admired any man who dated her mother, concluding that he had overcome his fright to see Kate’s inner beauty. As she got older, Stef began to realize her mother was overly self-conscious about her size and wasn’t such a freak of nature after all. She was an attractive woman, becoming more attractive as she aged, as some women do, taking on a regal elegance and stark beauty in a face characterized by a broad chin, wide-open eyes and high cheekbones. There were certainly men who would be intimidated by her height, but she wasn’t quite the misfit of her imagination.

“A houseboat,” Stef repeated.

Her mother looked no more enlightened than before.

“Uh,” Stef began uncomfortably, “when I was in Sacramento a few weeks ago, I took the scenic route home and I saw this sign on the road
.
Houseboat For Sale. I stopped and took a look. There it was sitting in a…well, a cow pasture, actually.”

Her mother shook her head. “A houseboat in a cow pasture. And you suddenly lost your mind and bought it?”

“I didn’t buy it right then. I thought about it for a while. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea.”

“The idea of a houseboat in a cow pasture?”

“No. The idea of a houseboat on the water. Of living on a houseboat.”

“You mean full time?”