Just a Little Series (Parts 1 - 4) (2 page)

“Peppered shrimp alfredo.”

I smacked my lips together.

There were a few sure things in life that I
could always count on: the memory of my parents’ love to get me
through the hard times, my Uncle Charlie’s commitment to my
happiness, and Matt’s delicious home-cooked meals.

“Care for a taste?” he asked, lifting the
spoon.

“I’ll wait,” I said, knowing that waiting
would ultimately pay off. Once the meal was complete in its
entirety,
that’s
when I’d be ready to dig in; if there was
one thing Matt knew how to do, it was make his way around a
kitchen, much to his father’s dismay, might I add.

Matt had absolutely no intention of
following in Charlie’s footsteps and pursuing a career in criminal
justice. His heart was in the kitchen, where it had always been,
and where it would always be. And there was no doubt Matt would
follow his heart, soul, and palate right to the doorsteps of the
French Bistro for his twenty hours. Unlike me, he didn’t have to
worry about how he’d spend his time completing the assignment. He’d
had his future mapped out years ago.

Charlie stomped across the room and slumped
onto the barstool next to mine. Silence surrounded us as we each
looked off into separate directions, no one wanting to be the first
to address the elephant in the room; the job-shadowing project was
Charlie’s brainchild, and he wasn’t ready to dismiss it so
easily.

“Okay,” my uncle finally mumbled, combing
his fingers through his gray mustache, “I know you’re reluctant
about wasting your time, but I think I can help.”

When I didn’t prompt him to continue, he
took my silence as an indication to go on.

“Put your hours in at the station,” he said,
almost sounding defeated. “There are a lot of great opportunities
for smart, young women like yourself—”

“Get off it, Dad,” Matt slung a towel over
his shoulder. “You can’t keep trying to force us—”

“No one is asking
you
to do anything,
Matthew,” his father said. “I know I’ve already lost my chance with
you, but Julie.…” He shook his head and ran his fingers through his
salt and pepper hair. “Julie, Julie, Julie… have I ever told you
about my first day on the force?”

“Only a thousand times,” Matt spoke again,
playing more into his father’s impatience.

As the two men glared at one another, I took
a moment to consider his proposition.

Put in my twenty hours at the
station?
How hard could that be? I’d been around the job my
whole life; I knew the ins and outs of the criminal justice system
like the back of my hand. It’d be as easy as showing up, filing
some paperwork, and having Charlie sign off on my hours. If I
planned it out well, I could have this whole job-shadowing thing
knocked out in no time at all.

“I’m in,” I patted him on the back. “I’d be
happy to come down to the station and lend a helping hand.”

“Really?” Charlie’s eyes lit up in a way I’d
never seen. It was almost, and I mean
almost
, as though he
was getting this commitment from his own son.

“When do I start?”

“Tomorrow. First thing in the morning,” he
beamed. “Don’t worry about clearing it with the school; I’ll take
care of all of that. You just be up and ready to leave at five
sharp.”

“Five?”

“You’re in for quite a day.”

Yeah, I didn’t doubt that one bit. And
thankfully for the first time in my life, I finally knew what the
future held… even if it was only one day in advance.

CHAPTER TWO

Saturday, September 08

“I always thought this was a stereotype,” I
took a pink sprinkled donut from the table in the break room.

“How do you think stereotypes get started,
Pumpkin?” Charlie draped his arm across my shoulder and pulled me
close to his chest. He took a bite of a chocolate glazed donut, and
crumbs fell down the front of his uniform. “Now let’s get you ready
for the day.”

I looked around the quiet break room and
wondered if it was a glance into my future at the Oakland Police
Department. The room was cozy, offering all the amenities a person
might need for a quiet mid-day break, or in my case, a 5:30 a.m.
breakfast. The halls were quiet, the phones weren’t ringing, and
the only sound in the building came from the faint dripping of
water in the sink.

“Are we the only ones here?” I asked
Charlie, handing him a napkin to wipe the crumbs from his
mustache.

“Nah,” he wiped his face,“the first shifters
are uniformed and ready for briefing. They’re just waiting for
me.”

“Then don’t you think we should… you know?”
I nodded toward the door.

Charlie plucked one final donut from the box
and strolled out of the room. I followed quickly behind him,
wondering at what point he’d stop long enough to give me my
assignment.

As we approached a lone wooden door at the
end of the hall, Charlie stopped and turned.

“I’m heading in for a bit,” he said. “Stay
put. I’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.”

“But what do you want me to do?”

“Stay put,” he said again. Without further
elaboration, Charlie disappeared behind the door, leaving me in the
dimly lit hallway.

After waiting for what felt like hours, I
wandered back into the break room and took a seat at the center
table. I smoothed the wrinkles in my pink striped shirt, nudged
my—purely fashionable—glasses a little further up my nose, and
waited as patiently as possible for my uncle to return.

There was something serene about early
mornings at the Oakland PD. I nestled deeper into the folding
chair, rested my head against the back of the metal, and closed my
eyes.

“Julie?” An unfamiliar voice called my name
from the door. Before I had time to turn around, a strong hand
landed on my shoulder, momentarily paralyzing my nerves. I balled
my shaking hands into fists and finally mustered the nerve to turn
and meet the man behind the voice.

Dressed in his uniform and ready for the
day, the young officer stood tall at the back of the chair, still
resting his hand firmly on my shoulder. His black hair fell neatly
above his brow, encouraging me to focus on the intensity of his
dark eyes. His lip curved into a smirk, pulling back ever so
slightly to the left.

He was as calm and collected as a person
could be, which was more than I could say for myself.

“You
are
Julie?” he asked, finally
retracting his hand. He leaned down to meet my gaze as if to check
my pupils for a response. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head, trying to calm my unsettled
nerves.

“Yeah,” I nodded, nudging my glasses back
into place. I finally stood and turned to assess him on a whole new
level. “You just scared me.”

“Rule number one,” he folded his arms at his
chest. “Always be on high alert.”

“I was just resting—”

“I didn’t use the word
always
loosely, Miss Little.”

His smirk widened into a grin, bringing to
light an inch-long scar on his upper lip. I studied the scar for a
few long seconds, wondering what incident in his life had left the
blemish behind.

“It’s not polite to stare,” he walked past
the table and toward the coffee brewing on the opposite counter. He
plucked a labeled mug from a cabinet and turned back to me as he
filled the cup to the rim.

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing straighter. “I
suppose my uncle told you I was here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, “in fact, he sent me
on a mission to find you when you turned up missing.”

“I wasn’t missing.”

“He told you to stay put, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“And you moved, didn’t you?”

“I did, but—”

“Rule number two,” he took a drink. He
closed his eyes and savored the drink, but only for a moment.
Watching me again, he nodded once. “Do as you’re told. When you’re
given orders, follow them, especially if the order is given by the
Chief. In this building and on this job, Charlie Little is not your
uncle; he is your superior.”

I stood and stared in amazement, wondering
if his rules were to be taken seriously or if this was just his
idea of a joke that I failed to find the humor in.

“Any questions so far?” he asked, never
letting his eyes wander from mine. “It’s imperative that you
understand what’s expected of you.”

“This is all a joke, right?” I looked around
the break room. How could all of his rules possibly apply to the
work I’d be doing at the station? Being alert, following orders…
how hard could it possibly be to push papers around a desk all
day?

“A joke?” He leaned against the counter and
stared at me in disbelief. His brow furrowed as he shook his head
and mumbled what sounded an awful lot like, “I can’t believe I let
him talk me into this.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked, taking a step closer.
“Do you have a problem with me, Officer?”

“Not so much a problem
with
you, as a
concern
about
you,” he said shamelessly. “You’re a major
liability issue, Little.” He looked from my pink shirt to matching
sneakers and shook his head. A faint chuckle came from behind his
mug as he took another drink. “If you’re not going to take this
position seriously, you need to call it quits while you’re still
ahead.”

I leaned closer to get a better look at his
name tag.

L. Reibeck.

“Well, with all due respect, Officer
Reibeck,” I threw my shoulders back, “I haven’t even been given an
assignment yet. So for you to say that I’m not taking my position
seriously is just as bogus as the idea of me having to put in these
hours to begin with. As soon as Charlie finds the time, he’ll
assign me to my desk job, and
you
can let go of your fear of
me being a liability.”

“You haven’t been given your orders yet?”
His smile grew wider than before. “Oh, this should be fun.”

Just as the word
fun
slipped off his
lips, Charlie stepped into the room and clapped his hands
together.

“Julie,” he said with the force of
authority, “you’re on patrol with Trigger for the morning. You’ll
ride along, get a feel for the position, and report back to me at
lunch. I want you two to work out a schedule for the first half of
your hours. Trigger,” he turned to Officer Reibeck. “She’s the
closest thing I have to a daughter. Keep her safe out there.”

“Will do, sir.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I said, “you’re sending
me
out there
? With
him
? I thought I was putting my
hours in at the
station
?”

“How are you ever going to learn what it
means to be a police officer without field experience, Pumpkin?”
Charlie winked as though that would be enough to calm my unsettled
nerves.

“Charlie,” I suddenly thought of my father.
After everything I’d been through, and everything I’d lost, it was
all too much. I wasn’t ready; it was far too soon. “I really don’t
want to—“

“Get back on the horse,” he said gently, and
it was all he had to say. Charlie’s decision was final, and I
wasn’t sure whether I really had any other option but to obey
him.

I looked at Officer Reibeck, who raised his
brow as if amused by my misunderstanding.

“Put in four hours this morning,” Charlie
said, his tone back to normal. “Then you’re free for the day. How’s
that sound?”

I looked between the two men, knowing I had
no choice but to comply. I sighed, shrugged, and mumbled,
“Okay.”

Charlie kissed the top of my head and left
the break room, yelling “That’s my girl,” as he reached the end of
the hallway.

I stared at the empty doorway for a few long
seconds before turning back to Officer Reibeck.

“So,” I pursed my lips. “What now?”

“We head out,” he said. “You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Then I suppose I’m ready,” I turned to
leave the room.

As Officer Reibeck and I walked down the
hall and toward the exit on the far end of the building, an elderly
Latino detective looked up from his desk, eyeing me, and then
nodding at his peer as if to hold back a laugh. “Good luck out
there, Trigger.”

“Bite me, Bruno,” he responded, holding the
door open for me to exit. As the door shut, I heard a bout of
laughter from inside the station.

“This is all just one big joke to you, isn’t
it?” I asked.

“Look,” he approached the nearby patrol car,
“Chief makes the calls; we do as we’re told. But yes. This is an
all-time low. None of us joined the force to chauffeur the Chief’s
kid niece around town.” He opened the back door of the patrol car
and nodded. “Get in.”

The backseat?

I looked at him and then back to the car.
“You’re kidding, right?”

“You thought you were riding up front?” he
asked, still holding the door open. “No, ma’am. Front seat has to
be earned. Judging by your reluctance to follow a simple rule this
morning, there’s no telling what you’re capable of in the real
world. So, if you’re going, get in. If not, it’s all the same to
me.”

“You have
got
to be kidding me.”

“Does this look like the face of a man who’s
joking?”

I stared at him for another beat and
realized he was as close to joking as I was to liking him.

Nope. It didn’t look like the face of a man
who was joking. It looked like the face of man who was going to
have another scar on his lip by the end of the day, especially if
he kept treating me like a child.

CHAPTER THREE

Saturday, September 08

I settled myself into the backseat.
Never—not once in my life—had I ever imagined ending up in the back
of a police cruiser (no matter what the circumstances). I fumbled
through my shoulder bag and found a notebook and pen, dug them out,
and took ten minutes to write out a list of suitable questions to
ask Officer Reibeck.