"I'm turning fifty," Gere complained to Gem, his wife of twenty-seven years and girlfriend of eleven years before that. "I absolutely need that promotion this quarter."
Gem smiled fondly at the most handsome man in all of the world to her eyes. "I don't know," she teased. "Chief sounds pretty good. Even more so when you say the whole thing together. Chief of serious crimes. Get the promotion or not, you'll still the best to me. Shouldn't that be enough?"
"It would be," he agreed. "But we have kids. Two," he said, putting up two fingers. "And one of them wants to be the son of the commissioner. I'm sure he'll sell himself to that old man if he could."
Gem burst out laughing. The sight and the sound of that had him delighted. He pulled her close and leaned in, their foreheads touching, their eyes one and their lips separated by a film of air so thin it might not have been there at all. It was the perfect morning. Until Ara arrived, pulling a chair over and sitting on it while leaning forward as if watching a very, very exciting movie, and munching on a sandwich as well. Ara was a voyeur, her parents being her favorite. Gem and Gere had learned to simply accept their disturbed daughter as she was. Such was the love of parents. Even still, the morning would have been perfect enough, if not for the phone call from earlier that lingered on his mind.
"I've got to go," he said, reminded again.
"It's not going to be bad," Gem assured. She didn't know what the call was about. She never pried. She was never curious about his work. She was happy as long as he was happy and as long as he came back home every night in one piece. "I'm sure it is."
Gere smiled gratefully. Every time she spoke those words, he prayed she was right. More often that not, she was. But every time he was reminded that this might not be one of those times. He then glared at his daughter, who grinned in reply and shot back a wink. He snorted and headed out. The warm family man remained inside and the cold and serious policeman stepped out.
Gere liked early mornings. It wasn't eight when he settled into his office and had the day's schedule committed to memory. Officer Fischer was a good police officer but an excellent assistant. Gere knew he would be taking her upstairs with him, and no one would really express disagreement. Who didn't know that the young Fischer was Ara's best friend and like a daughter to the serious Gere. The last time Fischer had boy trouble, back when she was in college and a boy wouldn't accept the break-up, Gere had a private conversation at the end of which the boy was untouched but shaken up and never again showed up anywhere near Fischer. At the police academy, he showed up on the first day, having volunteered for an orientation class for the new cadets and introduced Fischer as family, which was as blatant as a warning could get.
There was a knock at the door. He shook his head clear and said, "Yes."
"Good morning, sir," Avin and Rove greeted in unison, and proceeded to sit as the chief nodded.
"Fill me in," Gere said, in an all-business tone.
Rove did the talking, which was their dynamic. "Aria Sales. Thirty-nine. Reporter at The Evening. Covered local pollical news. Not many friends. And no enemies, at all. A quiet person who ruffled no feathers, who preferred her desk best. No family. She grew up at the Yellow Leaf orphanage until college, when she moved out. We're expecting to learn more about her personal history in a while. The director of the orphanage said she would give us a call in an hour. Preliminary analysis of the scene didn't turn up much. COD, bleeding. Not sure yet which cut was the exact cause, but they all seem equally severe. Ben's opinion isn't good. He said he'd have something for us by lunch. The staff of The Evening are being patient. Her boss, Seth Frees, though quiet, seems like he could be trouble. Seems like that kind of a guy."
Gere nodded. Sighed. And looked at Avin.
"Doesn't sit right, sir," Avin said, without missing a beat. "It was very impersonal. I can't say for sure or explain it, but I think the motive isn't something we'd figure out as easily as we'd like."
"Trouble, you mean," Gere asked.
"Yes, sir," Avin agreed.
"Please be wrong," Gere whispered, more to himself. "Seth Frees isn't the kind of guy you want on your back. I know him. I'll speak with him. I suggest the two of you leave him out from the initial investigation. To sate your curiosity, Seth Frees is the guy who broke the Dine Scandal." Seeing the surprise on the faces of the inspectors, Gere nodded and continued. "Good you understand. He's as straight an arrow as you can find anywhere. From what you said, seems like he cares for Aria. So he'll be willing to help us. I'll call him in the evening. The two of you come with. It's better if I give an introduction. I agree with Avin. This stinks. So, the two of you get on it. Bring your best. I don't want this to turn into an issue. I'll be honest. I'm putting up for a promotion. So, please help me with that."
"Yes sir," the inspectors said in unison, and headed out. They didn't feel bad about the chief's motivations. In fact, they respected him all the more for being honest. If anyone deserved a promotion, it was their chief. Sure, the next chief might not be as good, but that was no reason to hold back their favorite chief. They would bring their best.
Gere was pleased watching the leaving inspectors' backs. They were two of the good ones. The others might not know, but how could he not? Both Avin and Rove were special. All the more so because they didn't make a big deal of it. They acted like they were like everyone else. The two would go high up, no question about it. He was glad to have such good people under him.
He picked up the phone. "Fischer, clear the evening. And put Seth Frees on the phone please. If you're free, clear your evening as well. I want you to come along."
"Yes sir," came the reply in a soft voice. He smiled, unconsciously, and put the receiver down.