Chapter Fifty-Five: Here We Go Again

 

Gray motions for me to sit down on the same chair I occupied not more than 10 minutes ago. "So, tell me, when did you notice the car?"

"I was driving down Main and noticed the car, I’d say, probably about ¼ mile or so from the station. I didn’t think anything of it until it was nearly tailgating me. It then followed me to my neighborhood and then to my street. I drove slowly by the house and slightly turned to see Brock in the garage working in his shop."

"Hold on. He drove past your home behind you?"

"Yeah."

Gray bolts out of his seat and pushes the button on his shoulder. "Holder, head to the Carmichael’s home, now." I recognized the officer’s name. He and Lopez took turns watching our house, so he knows the address. Gray throws on his jacket. "We need to get over there, Trice. He obviously knows where you live, and that Brock is alone in the garage."

I slap my hand over my mouth and my eyes grow wide. "Oh no! Would they …" I can’t even say the words.

"Let’s hope Officer Holder gets there quickly but stay here with Officer Lopez."

I want to protest but think better of it. I hope Brock is OK. I should have never looked. I could have just put my husband of 36 years in danger.

I wait anxiously, pacing in Gray’s office, the minutes tick by. Finally, my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s Gray.

"He’s OK. He said he saw your message and soon after you drove past, he went inside and locked everything up."

"Oh, thank God." I place my hand on my chest and nearly crumple into the chair.

"I’m headed back with him. You apparently didn’t tell him about the photos."

I close my eyes, bracing for the scolding from both.

"No."

"I figured since I asked him, and he had no clue what I was talking about."

"I just didn’t want to involve him. He’s dealt with so much. I wanted to do this quietly, but I guess that’s not going to happen."

"We’ll be there soon." Click Well, I messed up yet again and I know Brock is going to be upset. I wait until they arrive back to the station and pile into Gray’s office. He shuts the door and Brock won’t even look at me.

"I’m really sorry, Brock." I try to save face by staring down.

"When are you going to learn, Trice?" Brock’s reply stings, but I can’t blame him.

"Bart wanted to help, and –" Shit, I did it again. Now Gray and Brock know his name. Shut up, Patrice!

"Bart gave you these photos?" Brock is now angry, and his forehead's deep lines display his emotion.

"Please, he was just trying to help."

"Wait, is this Bart Camden?" Gray speaks up.

"Yes … " I say, and now feel incredibly ashamed. I promised to keep his name out of this.

"How did he get involved?" Gray folds his arms.

"He came to the house a few weeks ago and apologized for what he did to us, said he got out of prison early on good behavior and wanted to make amends for what happened. He was sincere and I didn’t feel it was right not to forgive him. Isn’t that what Christians are supposed to do." Yes, I used the WWJD card, but I’m right and he knows it.

"Trice, I appreciate that you forgave him, but involving him with Goldie’s murder was wrong." Brock finally speaks.

"I know, and I didn’t want to, but he offered, and well, it’s been over two months, and nothing was being done, no offense," I say, looking at Gray.

Brock's head drops. "Look, we’re doing all we can, but this isn’t the only case we’re working on, and we don’t have a lot to go on. Cases can take years."

"I understand; I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I promised Goldie we would bring justice; well, I promised myself justice would be served, and we would find her killer," I clarified.

Brock’s head is against the wall, and he’s staring up. "Well now, we’re targets again, Trice. If you hadn’t texted me, this person could have returned to the house. I would have never seen it coming."

I don't want to be reminded of what could have happened. We’ve both come too close a few times now.

"Okay, guys, this is what’s going to happen. You will go home, and Officer Lopez will follow. She will patrol the house the rest of the day. We will post another officer for the night. I will see if I can get a hit on the license plate and put these photos into the database to see if anything comes up. And you," he says, pointing and looking at me, "will not meddle anymore into this case and let us take care of it. You will tell Bart not to do anything else. Is that clear?" He emphasizes the word.

"Crystal," I say.

On the way home, Brock and I are silent. We were doing so well until Bart showed up and the hurt look tells me I’ve screwed up yet again and a cold shoulder is about to be my companion.

We get home and I pull into the driveway. All is quiet but who knows if this person has been here. I know better than to immediately go into the house before Officer Lopez is able to clear it, so we wait to pull into the garage. A few minutes later, she gives the all-clear signal and I drive in.

We go in and Herc is waiting, his tail wagging. Brock doesn’t stop to pet him but immediately heads up the stairs. I bend down and scratch behind his ears. "Well, Herc, I messed things up yet again." He follows me to the living room couch where Officer Lopez is sitting.

"I’m sorry you have to do this again," I say, watching her pet Herc’s back. "I thought I was helping."

"I know, but you have to let us do our job. Whoever this is or whoever they are don’t want to be found. I’m glad you got part of the license plate and the photos. It was a gutsy thing." I see a little smile form and I exhale. Her hair is down and even displays a touch of curl to it. She doesn’t look as tired as she did before, and she’s wearing light pink eyeshadow that matches her lipstick. Her cheeks also look rosy, and I wonder if she’s dating someone.

"I don’t think Brock thinks it was gutsy. He won’t talk to me for a while," I say looking up. He’s likely in his office working. When he’s mad he needs time to cool down and I have to give it to him.

"Give him time. He really loves you and probably thought you were finally safe or at least safer after Jeff’s confession. Now you have to worry about more threats."

"Yeah, and believe me, I don’t like this any more than he does, but I also owe it to Goldie to find her killer. But I learned my lesson and will stop interfering. Hopefully, Gray gets a hit on the plates and photos."

After Officer Lopez flips open her laptop and starts Typing, I announce that I’m going to take a nap. It’s probably around 3:00 by now, but I feel sleepy. And maybe I’m just wanting to hide for a while too. I climb the stairs and head to my room, but stop by Brock’s office. The door is closed, and I hear the click-clacking on his computer. I briefly place my hand on the door and then go to my room. I take off my shoes and climb into bed. The cool sheets feel good on my feet, and before long, I drift off.

I wake to the door opening and Brock coming in. The light has faded, and I fear I slept too long. He says nothing but goes straight to the bathroom and closes the door. I look at my watch. It’s nearly 6:30. I slept for at least 3 hours. I throw my covers back and sit on the edge of the bed. I want to talk to Brock but I hear the shower turn on and know it will be a while.

I smooth my hair and leave the room and head back downstairs. Officer Lopez is on the couch still, the TV is on but low. “Good nap?” She says, turning off the TV. “No, keep it on. It might help distract me.” She turns it back on, and I see she’s watching Lethal Weapon, one of my favorite 80s movie franchises. “My dad turned me on to 80s movies, said this was one of his favorites,” she says smiling at what had to be a precious memory. “They did have some great ones. Mel Gibson and Danny Glover were great together.” She smiles, and I leave her to her memories.

When the show is over, I get up. “I’m famished, how about you?” “Yeah, I could use some food. I told my boyfriend I would be here for a while yet until the night shift, so he’s taken care of food for the kids.” “Boyfriend, huh?” I give her a sly grin. “Yes, we’ve been dating seriously for a few months now. I introduced him to the kids and got their approval.” “So, he’s a keeper.” “Yeah, I’d say he is.” Her smile widens. “Well, I’m happy for you. I knew there was a change when I saw you in the police station.” “He’s a good guy and I haven’t had one.” I feel for her. She deserves better than the lowlifes she’s dated. “I haven’t been shopping, so how about DoorDash?” It’s like déjà vu from the first time she patrolled the house. “You know I like it. How about Thai food?” I smile. “My favorite.” I pull out my phone and order from a Thai restaurant that just opened last year. I make sure to get enough for all three of us.

“Up for the second Lethal Weapon?” She picks up the remote. “Let’s do it. Brock may not come down for a while yet, but when the food comes, I’ll leave it in front of his door.” “Do you want me to take it up to him? Maybe I can get him to see reason. “You could try, but he’s pretty stubborn.” “I’d say he’s pretty protective – big difference.” I have to admit she’s right.

About 30 minutes later, a knock on the door startles me out of my Mel Gibson trance. The gruff voice, long hair, and blue eyes pull me in when I watch his old movies. Officer Lopez gets up. “I’ll get it.” “I’ll get some drinks and glasses.”

When I come back out, the Styrofoam containers are spread out on the coffee table. “Smells yummy,” I say, placing the glasses and bottles of two different juices: blueberry pomegranate, Brock’s favorite, and passion fruit, my favorite. “I’ll be back,” Officer Lopez says after she loads a plate for Brock. It’s filled with fried noodles, ginger and curry chicken, mango fried rice, and beef and broccoli smothered in rich Thai sauce. She carefully balances it with a glass of his juice. I load my plate and start eating, savoring the spicy curry and ginger. I wait for her to come back down before pushing play again.

It’s longer than I expected when she comes into the living room. “He’s really hurt, Patrice. I tried to tell him you didn’t mean to hurt him and were trying to protect him, but he thinks you don’t trust him.” My heart sinks to my stomach. I couldn’t feel any worse than I feel right now. “I have to talk to him.” I get up to go upstairs but she stops me. “He won’t talk to you. I tried already. He needs some time to process everything. He said he’ll come down or he won’t, but to not bother him. He said you lied to him, and it’s not the first time.” My appetite is suddenly gone, and I push the plate away from me. I can’t keep doing this to Brock; it’s not right.

I push play on Lethal Weapon 2, but my heart’s not in it anymore. Afterward, Officer Lopez heads home, and Officer Holder takes her place outside in his patrol car. It’s pitch-black outside, and all is eerily quiet. It’s around 9:30, and I’m wide awake. Brock has yet to come down, and I doubt he will tonight.

I prop up the pillow and lay back on the couch, my body not even covering the length of it. I retrieve a book I just bought from the pouch affixed to the side. The latest thriller from a favorite author came out, and I had to buy it. No One to Save You looks like another good one. The black cover features a room and a dim light that shines on a woman tied to a chair, tears streaking down her face. I decide I’m a glutton for punishment, but I can’t help it. My phone buzzes, and it’s from Gray.

“We got a hit.”