Among the Shrouded (4 page)

CHAPTER

6

MIA

After brunch with Jack and his wife Stella, Mia spent Sunday afternoon alone in her apartment.  She was shocked by the news that Jack was going to be a father.  Knowing what she did about humanity and seeing the things she saw every day, she could not imagine bringing a child into the world.  She spent the rest of the day thinking about how Jack’s life was going to change now that he was going to be a father in addition to being a cop. She also found herself preoccupied with thoughts of Thomas Pritchett, the aura-less man, who had now come into her life not once, but twice in the same week.

She had been s
urprised to see him working at the restaurant.  She had assumed, because of his participation in the lineups, he was the type of man who would not be able to hold down a steady job.  As Jack had pointed out, most of the people who were willing to do a lineup for ten dollars were not typically the salt of the earth.  However, as she had watched him during brunch, she was impressed by the pride he took in his simple actions – folding napkins, picking up trash, and clearing dirty dishes.  He seemed to take his job very seriously and she found she was both surprised and pleased by her discovery.  However, one fact remained that both concerned and intrigued her.  For a second time, she had been unable to see his aura.  And for a second time, she found she was unable to get Thomas out of her head.

After a restless night’s sleep,
she was exhausted Monday morning.  Her mind had swirled with thoughts of her crumbling abilities and unstable future and she had not fallen asleep until after two in the morning.  She was relieved when Chelsea met her in the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee already brewed.

“What would I do without you?”
she asked, taking the first warm sip from her mug.

“Walk around like a zombie.  Give me your brains!” Chelsea teased.

“I feel like a zombie.  What’s the weather supposed to be like today?” she asked.

“Don’t know.  Just turned on the news.  The new commissioner is the big story.  Do you think you’ll get to meet him today?”

“Oh, God!  I completely forgot about that!  The one day I need to look sharp and instead I look like I’ve been run over by a bus!” she cried as she tore out of the kitchen.  “I’ve got to get ready.  Thanks for the coffee,” she called over her shoulder.

One shower,
four ibuprofen, and two cups of coffee later, she arrived at the station feeling only slightly more human.  Most of the officers on her shift had already arrived and were milling around, waiting for word on when the commissioner would arrive.  Her father came around the corner as she was entering her office.

“Morning
, Sunshine,” he said, walking up behind her.

“Hey
, Daddy,” she replied.  “You nervous?”

“Nah.  I’ve seen
so many commissioners come and go.  But I’ll tell you this, I think this one’s got some staying power. I think he’s a good man.  Gonna lead this city in the right direction.”

“I hope so.  We could use some support from the top.”

“That we could.”  He stopped speaking and peered into her office.  “Where’s that no-good partner of yours?” he teased.  “He told me he was going to tell you his news this weekend.”

“Yeah.  He told me.  A baby.  I told him I was excited for them.”

“You don’t sound too excited,” he replied.

“It’s just… I know how hard it’s going to be for him.  For the baby.  For all of them.”

“We survived, didn’t we?”

“We did, Daddy.  We did,” she
said.

Rosetti
gave her a quick hug and backed down the hall.  “We’re all meeting in the conference room in fifteen minutes.  Don’t be late,” he warned.

She
shuffled paperwork around her desk while watching the painfully slow moving hands of the clock on the opposite wall.  Jack sauntered in, carrying his duffle bag and what remained of a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. 

“Hey
, Mia!” he exclaimed, genuinely happy to see her.

“
Hi,” she replied.

“I
spent a lot of time researching the murder investigation yesterday afternoon so I can bring you up to speed on that after the commissioner thing.  I’d like to go down to forensics and take a look at what they found at the scene.  There are a few pieces of the puzzle that just aren’t fitting together for me.”

“
That sounds good,” she said, rising from her desk.  “We’re supposed to be in the conference room in two minutes.  We can go together.”

T
hey made their way into the conference room at the end of the hall.  The room, which usually provided plenty of space for weekly meetings and press conferences, was filled beyond capacity with officers and news reporters interested in meeting the new commissioner for the first time.  The only space available by the time they arrived was in the far back corner.  At five foot four, she was having difficulty seeing over the heads of the other spectators. 

“I can’t see,” she told Jack.  “I’m going to try to wiggle up to get myself a closer spot.”

She made her way through the crowd until she found herself only a few feet from the podium in the front of the room.  Her father was already situated beside the stage and was preparing to introduce the commissioner.

“Officers, ladies and gentleme
n, it is my honor and privilege to introduce you to Baltimore’s newest police commissioner, Roger M. Dalton.”

A thunderous applause erupted from the crowd and
she watched as Dalton was ushered onto the stage beside her father.

Unfortunately,
she didn’t hear another word the commissioner said.  Not a word of the introduction speech given by her father outlining Dalton’s prestigious history in law enforcement, extensive education, or awards bestowed upon him.  She didn’t listen to anything Dalton was saying about his plan to help eliminate crime in the city by getting illegal weapons off the streets and more officers on them.  She heard nothing.

The initial shock of what she
saw nearly took her down.  She braced herself against the wall and struggled to keep her knees from buckling beneath her.  As she concentrated on breathing, she could not tear her eyes from the commissioner.

The commissioner, Officer Roger M. Dalton, was
shrouded by the darkest aura she had ever seen. 

Two theo
ries immediately formed in her mind as she struggled to compose herself.  Either she was indeed losing her abilities, which was causing her to see things that were untrue, or Dalton was actually a very, very bad man.  Regardless of the reason, she was devastated.

As
the conference ended, she was relieved as the attendees began to make their way through the exits at the back of the room.  She was slowly shuffling along when she felt a hand grabbing her on the shoulder.  She turned around.

“Commissioner Dalton, I would like you to meet one of Baltimore’s finest, my daugh
ter, Officer Mia Rosetti,” her father said.

Dalton extended his hand and waited for
her to respond.  She stood transfixed, motionless.  Her father gave her a gentle nudge and commented, “I believe she’s a little star-struck, Commissioner!”

She
cautiously placed her hand in the commissioner’s.  His handshake was firm.  Strong.  Powerful.  Finally, she found her voice and both men looked at her expectantly.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Commissioner Dalton.  I look forward to serving you proudly,” she said.

“And I you, Officer.  I have a feeling your father and I are going to be spending a lot of time together, whipping this city into shape.  I believe you and I will be getting to know each other well in the coming months.”

“That sounds great,”
she responded feebly.  “Now if you will both excuse me, I have a large stack of paperwork on my desk to attend to.  It’s been a pleasure, Commissioner.”

“Goodbye
, Officer Rosetti,” he said warmly, a broad smile on his face.

As soon as
she was out of their line of sight, she ran quickly to her office, slamming the door behind her.  She closed her eyes and leaned against the door, using it to support her weight for she thought at any moment her legs would fail her.

“Boo,” said Jack from across the room.

“Jack!” she screamed.  “How many times…”

“I know, I know.  I just can’t re
sist.  But look at you.  What in the world is wrong?  You look like you’re going to throw up.”

“I think I might,”
she said.

“
Maybe you’re coming down with something,” he said, crossing the room to take her arm.

“No
, that’s not it,” she responded as Jack helped her to her chair.

She
remained silent for several moments, contemplating how much information she wanted to disclose.  Finally, she decided honesty was the best policy.

“So, the new commissioner…”

“Seems fantastic!  Don’t you think?” Jack interrupted.

“He seems fantastic to
you
.”

“And what?  He doesn’t seem fantastic to you?”

“No,” she said flatly.

“Mia, we’ve never had a commissioner with such great credentials and such a stellar track record.  This guy is the real deal.  Just look what he did in Detroit!” 
said Jack enthusiastically.  And then he stopped, looking carefully at her.  “What did
you
see?”

She
shook her head, unable to speak the words aloud.

“It’s his aura?”

She nodded.

“It’s not light?”

She nodded again.

“You’re sure?”

She thought carefully before beginning.  “Until last week, I would have been positive.  Absolutely certain.  But today?  I don’t know.”

“It’s that guy without the aura.  He has you spooked.”

“Maybe.  I’m starting to think maybe I’m losing my ability.  First, it’s that Thomas guy, and now, the commissioner is dark?  That’s crazy.  There’s no way he could be where he is and who he is if he was dark.  That would be impossible, wouldn’t it?”

“It would be tough.  He seems genuine.  And honest.  The dark aura must be a mistake.  When was the last time you were wrong about someone?”

“Never.”

“Never?”

“No, never.  I see what’s inside.  What’s streaming from the soul of a person.  You can’t mask it or change it.  It just is what it is.  And I’ve never been wrong.”

“But you think you’re wrong now?”

“I think I don’t know what I think,” she said.  “So for now, let’s just go down to forensics and finish this murder investigation.  I need something solid to hold on to right now.”

“Nothing like solving a murder to ground you in reality,” teased Jack.

“Nope, nothing like it,” she replied.

CHAPTER

7

THOMAS

“How much are we short?” Thomas asked his mother.

“About $200.  We can take it from the grocery money.  I haven’t been hungry lately anyway,” Mildred sighed.

“No, Ma, I’ll get it.  I’ve got a couple of piano gigs tomorrow, and I’m going to head over to the police department now and try to get into a few lineups.  It’s been helping that I look like a pretty average guy,” he told her.

“I hate that you are associating with criminals to earn money.  It just makes me ill.  If Howard were still here, you would be off leading a normal life.”

“I’ve never lead a normal life,” he laughed.  “I wouldn’t even know what to do with a normal life if I had one!  And for the record, I’m not ‘associating’ with criminals.  I’m helping to stop them.”

“I guess you’re right,”
she replied.  “But still…”

“Ma, you and Dad took care of me, and now I will take care of you.  I’m happy to do it.  I just wish I had a way to
earn a more steady income.”

“Someday you will.”

After hugging Mildred goodbye, he slipped on his shoes and coat and walked three blocks to the closest bus stop.  It was a cold day, but not too windy, so the sun was enough to warm him as he waited idly for the city transit.  He daydreamed about his passion, music, and what it might be like to someday own his own music studio.  He knew in the future his goal was to inspire children to embrace music the way Mrs. Lawson had inspired him, but he had never been to college, and earning a teaching certificate seemed impossible given his current situation.  He wondered how long he was going to be able to continue working as a busboy and lineup extra before he lost his mind completely.

As the bus pulled up and
he climbed aboard, he was taken aback by the sight of one of the women on the bus.  From the back, she looked exactly like the woman he had seen at the restaurant on Sunday.  He approached her, but was disappointed when she turned around to face him. 

“Is there something you need,” she asked him rudely.

“No.  Nothing.  I just thought you were someone else.”

“Well I’m not, so go sit down
, Mister,” the woman replied.

He
shuffled to the back of the bus, angry at himself for causing a scene and dismayed by how upset he was the woman was not who she appeared to be.  He had thought about the woman from the restaurant several times since he had seen her on Sunday, but admonished himself each time for romanticizing about something that would never come to be.  The woman had been beautiful and clearly well educated.  He easily convinced himself she would never be interested in someone like him.

He
checked in at the lineup office when he arrived at the station and was happy to discover he matched the description of three of the suspects in custody.  He mentally subtracted the thirty dollars he was about to make from the total owed on the mortgage.

After being offered something to drink,
he sat down in the waiting room with the rest of the lineup participants.  Some of the men were appalling to him.  A few were clearly addicts, looking for cash to supply their next hit.  There were a couple of homeless men who looked as though they were just happy for the opportunity to be inside and out of the cold.  He shook his head at the irony of his situation, acknowledging just how easily he could have ended up addicted or homeless or both.  And even though luckily, his life had taken a better path, he was sitting in the police station, just as they were, looking to make a few bucks.

The door to the hallway opened and several of the men were called into the lineup room.  As the door was closing behind the last of the men,
he caught a glimpse of a petite woman officer with long brown hair walking past the doorway.  He was immediately on his feet, unable to stop himself.  At the door, gripping the handle, he realized the ridiculousness of what he was about to do and stopped.  He had no idea what was compelling him to follow the officer.  After only a moment, he decided the worst thing that could happen would be that it wasn’t the woman from the restaurant.  By the time he entered the hallway and saw her rounding the corner, he decided perhaps the worst thing would be if it was.

He picked up his pace and quickly rounded the corner behind her.  He was surprised to see she was now only several feet in front of him. 
His pulse was racing, his hands were shaking, and all at once, he decided to turn back.  However, at that exact moment, the woman stopped and turned around.

She gazed at him with a look of shock and wonder like
a stargazer viewing the heavens with the aid of a telescope for the first time.  As their eyes met, he was filled with a sense of peace.  Somehow, he knew he should go on.

“You,” she said.

“Me,” he replied.

“You were here last week, doing a lineup.”

“Yes.” he confirmed.  “And you had brunch at Belinda’s Bistro on Sunday.”

“Yes.”

They stood, inches apart, considering one another.  Finally, he broke the silence.

“How long have you been in law enforcement?” he asked, attempting to sound casual
despite the awkwardness of the situation.

“Two years”
she responded.  “I graduated from the academy two years ago.”

“Do you enjoy it?”
he asked.

“Yes.  Mostly.  I love helping people,”
she replied.

“My mother is concerned about me hanging out with criminals doing these lineups, but I feel like I’m doing my part to help make the streets a
little safer.  Do you think I’m helping, doing the lineups?”

She
considered him for a moment.  “Yes,” she said, “I think you are.”

“Was it a little weird that I just brought up my mother?”
he asked, a smile forming on his lips.

She
returned his smile.  “Yeah, it was a little weird,” she admitted.  “But it’s okay.  If it makes you feel any better, I work with my dad.”

“It helps,”
he said.

“Thomas
Pritchett?” A voice called from the far end of the hallway.

“That’s my cue,”
he said, backing down the hall in the direction of the lineup room.  “So, I’ll see ya.”

“Yeah, I’ll see ya around,”
she said.

He
turned on his heel and walked briskly toward the lineup room.  As he approached the corner, he paused briefly and considered turning around to see if she was still there.  It occurred to him he hadn’t even asked for her name.  Before he realized what he was doing, he turned to glance over his shoulder. 

She was still there.  Standing in the exact same spot.  Watching him.  He waved at her.  She waved back. 

He turned the corner and entered the cue with the rest of the men.  The first time he had participated in the lineup, he could only think about how to determine which of the men was the guilty party. However, this time, he found he was completely preoccupied with the woman officer as the group of men was ushered into the narrow room.

“Face straight ahead,” came the voice over the speaker system.

He thought of her eyes.

“Turn to the left,” the voice said.

He imagined what her hair would feel like against his cheek.

“Turn to the right,” the voice said again.

He remembered the way she had smiled at him.

By the time the men were asked to leave the room,
he was already trying to figure out how he could arrange to see her again.  He knew the chips were stacked against him.  He was now aware she was a college educated law enforcement officer.  This meant she was smart.  It was easy to see she was also attractive.  And, he admitted to himself with displeasure, there was a very good chance she was already involved with someone else.  He, on the other hand, was a busboy with a high school diploma who still lived at home with his mother.  He immediately acknowledged a more unlikely couple had never existed.

And
yet, he couldn’t get her out of his mind.  He spent the rest of the afternoon standing against the wall just outside the waiting room, watching to see if she would pass by again.

She never did.