The skies are a dark shade of blue nearly black, not a single star in sight. Heavy storm clouds shroud the moon, casting an eerie glow over the night as a bone chilling wind gusts through the town. I fasten my coat tighter around myself as I continue down the weed-infested sidewalk towards the parking garage. I'm so glad this day is finally over, I sigh, recalling the unusual behavior today.
There's been a thick tension laying heavily in the air, that's had everyone on edge. Most blame it on the storm making its way across the southern plains, but I have an unexplainable feeling deep in my gut that it's something much bigger than a little thunderstorm. That trouble is brewing in our quiet little town.
My father claims it's my line of work that has me so uneasy. I have to agree that trying criminal cases can mess with your thoughts, and with your dreams sometimes. All the ungodly things people do to their fellow man. Their motive usually starts with a heated disagreement over a few bucks, a drug deal or a love affair gone wrong.
The cases that affect me the most are the babies who never stood a chance, growing up with abusive, drug-addicted parents who never taught them right from wrong. With a heavy heart I look at their frightened faces and think, another kid that's slipped through the cracks. An observation that came a little too late to do them any good.
Since I took an oath to uphold the law, I bury my feelings deep inside so I can trudge through another day. More than likely it'll be a similar case that will undoubtedly send another child away. Whatever happened to talking it out, I think recalling all the files stuffed inside my briefcase.
I hear someone stomping behind me. I reach into my handbag for my mace as I quicken my pace. I figure the closer I can get to my car the better chance I have of escaping. The stalker grows nearer with more urgency in their steps than there was before. With the canister of pepper spray cupped tightly in hand. My index finger positioned firmly on the spray button. I raise my arm as I spin around. I start to press the trigger when I realize my pursuer was an officer or the law. I then notice her hand cupped tightly around the butt of her gun, an understandable move with everything that's going on these days having a constant target on their backs. No sudden movements I think as I slowly lower my weapon. With the can resting at my side, I nervously chuckle, and say, "You nearly got sprayed sneaking up on me that way." I could tell right away my humor was infuriating her more than what she already seemed to be. The tension between us builds. I nervously shift my weight and ask, "Do you need something officer?" Hoping to hurry it along. I'm cold, tired and in desperate need of a stiff drink.
Daggers shooting from her eyes. She plants her feet firmly on the ground as she continues to scowl.
If looks could kill. I'd be dead, "Did I do something wrong, officer?" I ask, trying to think back to what I might've done that would've upset her.
Her eyes narrow, her nostrils flare as she growls, "You shouldn't have allowed that perp to walk."
"What case are you referring to?" I ask, hoping to deescalate the situation before things escalate. I know first hand that headed debates can lead to someone's death.
Her brows furrow. Straightening her posture she pulls back her shoulders and hisses, "All of them,"
I can tell she's becoming more aggravated by the second and that the most logical thing to do would be to talk about this later when we both have a clear, rational head. "Why don't you stop by my office in the morning and we'll discuss them. " Seeing that her face, her stance remains unchanged, I quickly add, "And maybe with your help we can figure out a way to put them behind bars where they belong."
"I'm through talking to any of you about any of this ." She raises her arm and shoots.