RISEN
“Chief Scott will see you now, patrolman.” Glinda, his secretary says formally.
I rise from the rickety wooden chair with a resounding creak. Knocking solidly on the door before entering his domain, I’m scared shitless of what he wants. If there was anything I could do to avoid this meeting, I bloody well would. If the small measure of knocking loud and proud would assist me in my fate, in effectively prolonging the inevitable death of my career, then I’ll do it too.
“Come in.”
Taking a deep breath in, I turn the handle and step forth. Sitting at his desk with the chair turned around, facing the bank of windows, Chief Scott is looking out at the bustling E 1st Street.
He ignores me, as if I’m a fly in the ointment. “Take a seat,” he says without turning his chair.
Fuck, this really is going to hurt like hell. Feeling my ass warming from the whipping I’m about to receive, I pull on the steel and leather armchair. As the quietness ticks down, second by second. It’s so bad, I can hear his chair creak as he adjusts. The waiting is killing me. I want to say something, to start the dialogue, but at the same time, I’m hoping he doesn’t say a single fucking word.
After a bit, I find myself venturing a look out at the same view of E 1st Street as he is. Its inhabitants move about their day without a worry about me and my job. When the first time danger affects them, I’ll be the most important person in their lives. Do they care that I would take a bullet for them?
Nope.
“You know, this would break his fucking heart—my partner, my best friend. He’d be…” Still not looking my way, he leans on the windowsill, peering down on the world below.
“When everything went down with you...” He pauses. “Let’s not get into that. Sufficed to say, once he mentioned you wanted to be a police officer, I did my best to push for you to be a part of LA’s finest, to have another generation of Mason’s working in our ranks and in this precinct. I was fucking happy.”
And the shoe drops.
As the chief goes quiet again, I know this is definitely not my day. Silently awaiting my unavoidable dismissal, I’m expecting a ‘please turn over your gun and badge’ moment. I don’t want it, but I’m starting to feel it’s inevitable with this tight conversation.
“Just pull off the band aid, Chief.” It’s fucking killing me.
Turning his chair, Chief Scott’s expression is as bad as I’d expected. The first thing we all learned about the chief is that his voice never falters, even as it hides the devil lurking inside. His voice sounds the same, whether he’s talking to a mass murderer a grandmother. But his facial expression hides nothing. I’m used to the slight curve of his mouth from years of tender smiles. The crows’ feet from a soft set of laugh lines, all surrounding his bright and cheery steel blue eyes that twinkle. Those eyes show the relaxed overall composure that he has perfected. Today? Not so much. His reddened face indicates his blood pressure is sky high. His steel cut eyes look like pure granite. The laugh lines are deep, making his face seem like cracked leather, and the stern straight lips contain pressurized teeth that I’m almost sure grind away as he takes in the sight of me.
So I await my fate.
“Risen, I have a great deal of respect for your family. In the whole time you’ve been here, I hear that my brother has tried repeatedly to give you the benefit of the doubt. I heard about the arrest a few weeks back. You did well with that, son, but here’s my quandary. Last night, I heard you were given an opportunity to show us in the best possible light with an easy off hours security detail that was simple, even for you.” Again, he goes quiet as he leans across the desk, planting his elbows deep into the steel. I swear it groans in protest. “I felt that you would rise to the occasion without fault.”
Counting down the inevitable, I wait and wait.
“I’m only going to ask you once. What happened last night?”
Taking a deep breath, I answer. “I’m not sure what you’re asking, sir. We were very vigilant with the security detail. We made sure we checked all credentials—”
“Don’t,” he cuts in. Whatever the fuck it was we, or I, did last night, seems to be horrific.
“Don’t lie to me about last night.” Flipping over the Times, he tosses it across the desk. “The papers ran with it, and it’s quite a tagline.”
Cop a Feel. There, in color, wearing the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen is China Crown, covered in raspberry panna cotta with me rubbing a white towel across her leg. I remember it in a different light, but I guess the asshole who shot the picture gets to spin it any way he wishes.
“Sir, would you care for the explanation, or will you condemn me by paparazzi trial?”
With a raised eyebrow and an overtly pissed look, I wait for him to speak. “Fine. Tell me what happened, Risen.”
Staying quiet the whole time I’m telling him what occurred, he listens to me, contemplating how to deal with me. Maybe he’s wondering what the hell to do with me now. Finding myself understanding the phrase silent as the grave, I know that if I continue, I’ll probably ruin everything, but I finish speaking my peace anyway.
“Sir, I feel sorry for her. With everything she’s been through lately, then to have this,” I hold the paper up, “plastered across the front page? It’s a fucking sideswipe.”
When Chief Scott finally speaks, this time it’s calmer, less dangerous, which is worse. Way worse.
“Risen, I know you’re not someone to enter into a situation where you would jeopardize integrity. You’re not malicious. So, that being said, I believe you were just assisting Miss Crown. I have to tell you, though, son, this looks bad for the department. I’m afraid I’m going to have to put you on suspension until this is cleared up.”
With his hand extending out across the cold steel desk, requesting my gun and badge, I peel it off my outfit and pass it over.
He places it inside his drawer with a resounding metallic thud. “I want you to take this time to consider your position here. Risen, look at your future in the LAPD. It’s not that I don’t want you here, please understand that. I need you to consider if this is the right path for you overall. Do you understand?”
Oh yeah, I understand. I’m either looking for a desk job or being pushed into inevitable early retirement from the force.
“I have no choice in this. Right, sir?”
“Sorry, son. This is as it is.” His mind is made up.
Rising from the chair, I salute the chief and exit without another word.