Another Day at the Office

Chapter two into my book, "Golden Eyes of the Father" introduces us to the life of Detective Deville but not all is normal this day. The precinct is unusually slow and it's not all that's unusual...

2

Another day at the office

The light from the morning sun peeks through Lucy’s window and down on her face as the building rattles with the passing train. Her alarm clock turns to 8a.m. and begins playing AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell.” Lucy rolls over and sleepily smacks her clock, trying to turn it off. She then rolls back over and stretches, smacking her lips.

“F*****g cotton mouth,” she mutters, reaching for the bottle of water on her nightstand. She takes a drink and replaces the bottle back down. With a yawn she rolls out of bed and makes her way to the bathroom, striping off her shirt and panties and throwing them haphazardly to the floor. She walks over to the shower and turns the water on to warm. In the winter it could take up to thirty minutes to warm up but in the summer it took no time.

Lucy walks back through her room and into the living room, the outside light bouncing off each curve of her nude figure, before she takes her seat on the sofa. She pulls out her bong and a small, sealed, jar she kept all her marijuana in. She grinds up a little and packs the bowl.

Lucy pulls out her Bic and sparks it, the flame shooting upward about 3 feet before she throws the lighter to the ground with a shocked scream. She sets the bong on her coffee table and walks over to the lighter laying on the ground. With trepidation she picks it up and attempts to relight it, holding it at arm's length out in front of her. This time it lights normally and she sighs and sits back down, picking back up the bong and taking a hit.

I must be losing my mind. Maybe the old man got inside my head? She thought as she continued smoking. Joseph Nightmane huh? The thought of his name only made her head hurt. With a shake and a shiver she turns on the stereo to drown out her thoughts.

After a few minutes Lucy gets up and heads back to the bathroom. She checks the water, hot but not scalding and just how she liked it. Switching the water from the faucet to the shower head she steps in. She allows the water to drape over her body, dancing along her curves, and saturate her hair before turning around to grab the shampoo. Lucy looks down to see some red water swirling around her feet before she spins around to the showerhead spewing a thick red substance. Panicking, she quickly shuts off the shower. Running her fingers along the substance dripping off her body she remarks that it was thick and slightly sticky. Then she inhales. A metallic smell invades her nostrils and lungs. The smell of organic metal that Lucy knew all too well; The stench of fresh blood. Lucy turns the faucet back on, relieved by the sight of plain water. She hastily rinses herself off, turns off the faucet, and steps out. She reaches for her towel and dries herself before wrapping up her hair. She heads back into her bedroom to get dressed for the day.

The rest of the morning was uneventful with Lucy dressing in a dark black tank top held down by suspenders clipped to her navy blue jeans. She had her badge and gun clipped to her belt as she strolls out of the apartment building and into the sun. She pulls her phone out of her front pocket and checks the days weather. The app showing sunshine and no chance of precipitation, a very different forecast compared to the normal overcast and gloomy drizzle of rain. With a smile, Lucy starts heading down Grace Street. Turning the following corner she ran into Dante, colliding with the young man who stumbles and braces himself against her.

“Oh, g-good morning Detective. I’m sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going,” Dante nervously apologizes. He steps back a foot away from her.

“Dante, boy, you need to be more careful.” A voice pipes up from behind him. Dante and Lucy look to see Dante’s mother, Lucile, standing with her arms crossed. She was a short woman, standing only four foot nine, but she was intimidating. Her eyes were a dark brown and forever narrow, always scolding the actions of her children and demanding they behave themselves and not embarrass her. Not to mention she was a thicker woman, roughly two-hundred and thirty pounds, but could move when it was warranted; Comes with raising five boys and three daughters.

“Oh he’s fine, Lucile. No harm done,” Lucy says as she pats Dante’s shoulder. “He’s a good kid, sometimes.” She joked.

“Sometimes? You caught him doing anything I should know about?” Lucile asks, staring her son down. Her accent was thicker than his, having grown up in Italy before moving to the States, but it was always heaviest when she was agitated. Dante looks up to Lucy with pleading eyes.

“No ma’am, I just know how boys are, especially at his age. Men tend to make more mistakes than we do, right?” Lucy says jokingly, trying to lighten the mood with a chuckle.

“Ha, yeah, you’re right. I had to deal with Tommy and Salvatore before him so I know what to expect.” Lucile lets out a deep, guttural, laugh. “Well Lucy, we won’t keep you. Sure you’ve got a busy day ahead of you. Come on, boy, we got errands anyway.” Lucile grabs Dante by the shoulders and starts walking back down the block. Dante looks back to Lucy mouthing a ‘Thank you’ before redirecting his gaze back the way he was walking. Lucy smiles with a shrug, turning to continue on her way.

Lucy continued down Grace Street, passing by the church, which was crowded with workers frantically trying to finish renovations to the dilapidated building. The sounds of saws, drills and other heavy machinery just barely overshadowed the conversations of the crew. Lucy could see the foreman chatting with a figure in what appeared to be a black suit, his back to her. His hair was greying at its ends. He turns around, towards her general direction, still chatting with the foreman and Lucy recognizes the man as Father O’Brien, the former pastor of New Haven Church; the church she used to frequent with her mother before, and for a while, after her death. His face barely showing his age with dark eyebrows above his dark eyes. He slaps the foreman on the back and gives out a hearty laugh, his thick Irish heritage bellowing proudly. Father O’Brien wipes a tear from his eye and glances across the street spotting Lucy and motions her to come over with a smile and wave.

“Lucy Deville, as I live and breathe. It’s been far too long child.” Says the Father, still smiling. Upon closer inspection his eyes were dark, almost black but still bright with just the slightest hint of crow's feet and laugh lines cradling his mouth. The man was always smiling. “Blessed be you, I hope you’ve been doing well.”

Lucy gives her old friend a hug. “Yes, Father, thank you. I saw the sign last night.” She steps back. “Renovating the old church are we?”

“Just doing the Lord’s work, my dear. Bringing back some faith to this old city, which I’m sure you could agree it desperately needs,” He states, patting her shoulders and eyeing the badge on her hip.

“Unfortunately, yes I do,” Lucy sighs, acknowledging the Father’s statement. “The city has gone downhill in the past couple years. More crime waves sweep the streets at an alarmingly fast rate.” Lucy shoves her hands in her pockets, swaying back and forth. “Keeps me busy and on my toes but it’s disheartening.”

“I would imagine so, but that’s why I do what I do.” He turns towards the building. “Hopefully this will enlighten some of the miscreants and steer them on the right path and away from you,” He says with a chuckle. Lucy reciprocated the chuckle and nods.

“Right you are Father. I’d welcome less and less people falling into my lap,” Lucy replies, a rather large bit of truth behind it. “Well it’s been nice seeing you Father O’Brien, but I need to get going. Duty calls.” Father O’Brien nods and takes Lucy’s hand, reciting a small prayer before he waves her off.

Lucy makes her way down the next four blocks to the Shadmont Police Precinct. She enters the building, having made it there by 10a.m. By some miracle. The building is surprisingly quiet compared to the usual hustle of the normally overcrowded building. Lucy makes her way to her desk but feels a hand on her shoulder before sitting down. Turning, she comes face to chest with her partner, Fernando.

“Damn it, Frannie,” She exclaims, turning her head up to see his face. He was like a walking tower. Standing six foot six and weighing two-hundred and forty pounds (all muscle) it wasn’t a surprise that he was one of the more menacing guys on the force, despite his bright smile and sandy brown eyes. At least until he spoke, then the façade faded. All brawn, no brains.

“Aww, what’s tha matta, Luce?” Fernando spoke with a heavy Italian accent and always had some stupid nickname for every cop on the force. Lucy teased him with ‘Frannie’ as payback. “Just came by to hand off tha paperwork for your drop off last night. Wesley told me all about it.” He grins, handing Lucy a manilla envelope. Lucy takes it and tosses it to her desk.

“Thanks, I guess,” She mumbles, taking her seat at the crowded desk. “Don’t you have better things to do than hand off work to me?”

“No, actually. It’s been a slow morning and all calls are being taken care of. It’s kind of unnerving.” He runs his hand through his, parted, black hair, turning to walk around to his desk, directly across from hers. “When you’re done with that, Chief Ramsay wants to see you. Says he heard about last night and has some questions.”

“Great,” Lucy remarks sarcastically as Fernando takes his seat. Lucy boots up her computer while looking over the paperwork and trying to bring some form of organization to the cluttered mess. She logs in and begins opening her documents to fill in the report.

Lucy spends the next 20 minutes filling in both copies of her report, marking down her notes on the paper file after noting it on her computer record. Finishing up the chicken scratch of a paper report Lucy looks up to her screen to notice words being typed in without her input.

One by one they will haunt you, for they are many and you are few.

One by one they will haunt you, for they are many and you are few.

One by one they will haunt you, for they are many an…

Lucy closed out the document quickly, not remembering to save. She sighs and spends a few minutes looking over the paper in her hand for any errors. I must be losing my mind. What in the Hell is wrong with me?

“E’ry thing okay?” Fernando asks, looking up from his own paperwork, snapping Lucy back to reality.

“Yeah, just tired. Haven’t been getting out of here until late.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, if you say so.” With that, he returned to his work.

Lucy looks over the papers five times before finally turning her monitor back on and reloading the file. The report had saved and Lucy sighs softly with relief. Looking over it she found the words had disappeared. She quickly adds in the last few details then saves and closes the document.

Lucy turns to get up and make her way to the chief’s office but turns back to her desk. She clacks at the keys and opens her email. Her eyes dart across the screen, skimming through the junk mail, the invites to the precinct cookout, the few invoices from her superiors talking about the need for more hours due to the increased necessity and crime rate and others pertaining to a few budget cuts along with lists of the most wanted criminals involved in ongoing investigations. Lucy deletes the unimportant ones while saving a select few. She goes to logout but notices a new email pop up during the split second beforehand. The message was labeled NO SUBJECT and featured a no reply address. With how things are going, don’t open it. Jesus, don’t be silly. There’s nothing to worry about. Lucy struggles with herself, but after a few minutes she finally opens the message and is greeted by a blank page. She huffs in frustration but notices words begin to appear on the blank page. She leans forward to read them, placing her hand to her mouth as she did, before jumping at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder.

“Lucy! I see you’ve finished your report, since you’re bullshitting around in your emails.” A deep voice thunders from behind her as Lucy turns to see police Chief Ramsey towering over her, a rather large but toned man who still held onto his baby faced features; A face growing redder with each passing second, despite his dark complexion, only highlighting his dark black eyes. His mustache raised as he began to speak again, the agitation building in his voice. “Get your a*s in my office, NOW,” He demanded, turning his back to her and walking to his office. Lucy shuts off her monitor and follows him into his office.

Lucy lets the door close behind her and no sooner had the door clicked shut that Ramsey began letting into her.

“You’re lucky as Hell, Lucy, that we are having a slow and calm day. For once I’m not stressed and pissed off.” Ramsey plops into his chair and leans back, popping a toothpick into his lips. A habit he had ever since he became chief and one everyone joked he had an oral fixation. “Now tell me about this f**k up you had last night.”

Lucy walks over towards his desk, crossing her arms. “Not much to tell. I caught a member of the Cross Town Boys trying to sell drugs to a minor. I found some coke on him, which I turned in, and that was it. I arrested him on possession with intent to sell before an old man approached us and caught my attention. I turned my back for a minute and…”

“And the little s**t escaped. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Ramsey interjects. “Look, Lucy, I’m gonna have to take the cost of the cuffs from your next paycheck.” He held up his hand, index extended, knowing Lucy was going to protest. “But Fernando says you may have a lead on the perp, is there some truth to that or is he covering your a*s?”

“It’s true, sir.” Lucy leans on the edge of his desk. “Like I said, he was Cross Town. Plus he had my cuffs so I’m thinking he went to see Skully to have them removed. He does a lot of underhanded work for these guys.”

Ramsey lets out a soft chuckle. “Skully huh? You honestly think that little punk is gonna help you out?” He sits forward now leaning on his desk. “Why in the world would he cooperate with us?”

“Because it’s the only thing keeping him out of jail.” Lucy stands and huffs. “D****t, Ramsey, why are you busting my chops on this? You know Skully gives us assistance in exchange for a little leniency. He’s helped us find gang members and, if memory serves me, unlocked your car more than once when you forgot your keys?”

Ramsey slams his hand on his desk. “Don’t you take that tone with me! You’re the one who let the perp get away because some ‘Old Man’ drew your gaze for just long enough he could run! Not to mention you’ve been on my s**t list ever since evidence went missing from one of our largest drug busts in Shadmont history, and I was nice enough to let you keep your job with a warning.” He sighs and sits back again. “Look, you’re right. Skully does have some power here but from my point of view this looks shady.”

Lucy sighs and nods. “You’re right, I’m still in the dog house for that and want redemption. What could it hurt to look into this? I’ve got the dealer on both previous charges, plus he spit on me so I added assaulting an officer and now fleeing police custody. He may even lead us to other members of the gang.”

“Fine Lucy,” Ramsey says with a sigh, his voice softening. He really was in a good mood today. “I’m not comfortable with how quiet today is. It makes me feel like there’s a storm brewing but it is slow. Why don’t you head out to see Skully and…” Before Ramsey could finish his sentence, Fernando came bursting into his office. “D****t, Detective, we’re in the middle of something.”

“I know and I’m sorry sir but we got a one-eighty-seven. The report just came in,” Fernando says frantically. He seemed distracted and on edge. “Apparently it’s a nasty one. The caller sounded frantic.”

Ramsey sighs and looks back to Lucy, the vein in his forehead beginning to bulge. “D****t, I knew s**t was was too quiet. Fine, both of you go and get down to the scene and give it a once over before the boys at the lab do. Try and get some witness statements if you can. Hustle, hustle, HUSTLE!” Lucy nods and rushes out of the office and passed Fernando. Murder cases were her specialty and she took them very seriously. She makes her way to the precinct door and looks back to see him just closing the chiefs door.

“C’mon, Frannie! We ain’t got all day!”

Author's Note

Like my previous chapter I'm looking for honest feedback for bettering my work. I hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is appreciated. This is the second revision of this chapter.