Faithful Valor, page 10
“Really? That would be great.”
“Sure.” Nic reached into her bag and pulled out her wallet. “Here’s my card. Just give me some notice and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Nice, thanks. The kids would really like it. I know I would.” He turned to the students. “Attention.” He barked out the command.
Students stood straight up and turned toward Nic.
“How do we show our appreciation to Colonel Caldwell for her time?”
All the students snapped a salute and held it until she returned it.
“Have a great weekend,” she said, lowering her hand.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“At ease,” Montanez said as she walked out of the room.
“Officer assistance needed, possible ten-fifty-six Adam at 1356 General Joseph Way.”
“Ten-four. Unit twelve in route.”
“Great, another header off the balcony. Probably had too much to drink and then got depressed because his girlfriend said something he didn’t like and…” Murdoch made a diving motion with his hand. “Boosshh.”
“That’s so sensitive of you, sir.”
“What? You better get used to it. We are talking walking hormones. Add alcohol and one little comment, and the snowflakes melt.”
Cece shook her head as she wrote the information down.
County communications came back on the radio. “Roger, RP is girlfriend Melody Griggs. You’ll find her at the residence. Rescue is on the way.”
“Ten-four.”
Cece hit the lights and sirens. At this time of night there probably wouldn’t be a lot of traffic, but once they got to the address kids would be piling out of their houses to see the commotion.
Murdoch killed the sirens. “No need to go full Hollywood, Ramirez. Besides, it will just draw the flies to the yard.”
Cece shook her head. Murdoch was a portrait in tact. Hopefully, he didn’t lead the sensitivity training for the unit. She could see it now.
“Hey how’s everyone feel about the LGBTQ students on campus?”
Everyone would give a thumbs-up.
“Good. How about students of color?”
Thumbs-up.
“Good. Let’s get out there and play nice in the schoolyard. Have a nice day.”
Hopefully the chief could see Murdoch had his limitations. Besides, it was state-mandated training. Even the Army required it on a yearly basis.
“Hey.” Murdoch snapped his fingers in front of Cece’s face. “Earth to Ramirez. Make sure you have that fluorescent vest on when you get out of the car. I want you to be seen and respected.”
Yeah, like a fluorescent stripe exudes respect.
“I’ll let you check the vic and I’ll talk to the girlfriend and get her statement.”
Pussy. She watched him weave the cruiser through the few students who had started to congregate on the street. He popped the siren after one student didn’t bother to get out of his way. The bird was his reward from the student. That gesture seemed to follow Murdoch everywhere.
“Asshat,” the kid yelled at Murdoch.
“Yeah, that’s our future right there,” Murdoch said, watching him in the rearview mirror. “Stick around, kid. I got you on my dance card later.”
“You probably scared him with the horn, LT,” Cece said, trying to defend the kid’s action.
“Everyone else can get out of the way but that asshat. Seriously, Ramirez. These kids don’t need you to protect them. Trust me, their mommies and daddies have lawyers and have no problem using them. You wait, your time’s coming when one of these little shits screams police brutality when you go to arrest them.”
While she hated to admit it, he was probably right. No matter how well intended she would be, it was the same as it was in the Army: no good deed went unpunished.
“There. That’s the address.” He pointed to a woman who was standing beside a van, crying and gesturing to an officer.
Rescue had just arrived on scene, unloaded a gurney with all their gear on it, and ran past Cece. Another unit had pulled up and was putting up crime scene tape to keep the lookie-loos away from the house and van. Cece steeled herself. She’d seen dead bodies before, but not an attempted suicide. Dispatch hadn’t said whether it was a gunshot wound, hanging, or overdose. Cece tried to prepare for the worst, but realized she wasn’t sure which that was.
Pulling the crime scene tape over her head, she pushed a student who’d ducked under it backward past the tape.
“Out. Go home. This doesn’t concern you,” she said as the guy tried to look around her. “I said, go home or I’m arresting you for interfering in a crime scene.”
“What happened?”
“None of your business. Who’s your Resident Advisor?” Cece keyed the mic. “Dispatch, can you call Res Life and get the RA on call out here?”
“Roger.”
“Move, now.” She snapped on a pair of latex gloves and stared the kid down until he finally turned around and walked away.
Stepping to the side of the van, Cece asked. “How’s the victim?”
“He’s alive.” The EMT handed a pill bottle to Cece. “Sleeping pill overdose.”
Cece looked at the label. Rod White. Didn’t ring a bell. “Is there a note, or…”
“Inside the van. On the dash.” He tossed his head in the direction of the van.
Cece was shocked at the extent of the damage to Rod White’s body. His right hand and leg were missing, and his left hand was barely mobile. How he was able to drive, let alone try to commit suicide, was a mystery. Where the mind wants to go, the body finds a way. She was told that once when she had seen a soldier who’d had his legs practically blown off drag himself a dozen yards to save himself. Nothing surprised her anymore when it came to the determination of people.
Cece jumped out of the way of the gurney running toward the ambulance. She heard the EMT say, “It’s all yours, Officer.”
“Thanks.” She pulled her flashlight out and looked around inside the van. She marveled at the magnificent piece of engineering she found inside. His wheelchair was locked in place. The gas and brakes were hand operated, and the interior of the cabin was spotless with the exception of a cell phone, a note, and flowers. There was a card on the flowers and the envelope was made out to Melody. Stepping on the running board, she looked up on the dash and picked up the note by a corner.
Cece frowned. She recognized a name in the note. What were the odds?
Nic looked at Cece standing in her doorframe, her body backlit from the porch light. It had been a while since she’d seen Cece, so it was a surprise seeing her in uniform. The words were like an echo in Nic’s mind: “Rod White tried to commit suicide tonight.”
“Come in, Cece.” Nic waved her through to the living room. Claire threaded her hand through Nic’s arm and grabbed her biceps. She recognized a squeeze of reassurance thrown in for good measure.
“How?” Nic tried to offer Cece a seat on the sofa but she begged off, preferring to stand. She recognized the dispassionate look on her face immediately; she’d seen it far too often in Afghanistan. She’d thought Cece might be at her house to talk about Benji and the incident at the market. “I can’t believe it. I just talked to him about his upcoming wedding. He wanted me to help, be part of his…” Nic paused. Rod’s fiancée. Nic crossed her fingers in hopes he hadn’t taken her life and the baby’s, too. “His fiancée, is she—”
“She’s fine. Unfortunately, she’s the one who found Mr. White locked in his van.” Cece pulled a pen and pad from her chest pocket and flipped the pad open. “How do you know Mr. White, Nic?”
“Group.”
“Group?”
“Yeah, sorry. We were in the same veteran’s support group. He leads it. I met him when I attended a few sessions.”
“I see. So that’s what happened to him?” She motioned to her own arm and face.
“You mean the injuries?”
She nodded, all business, as she scribbled on her pad. “Yep. It looked pretty bad.”
“Yeah, well you know that’s what happens when a soldier is hit with a bomb.”
“Shame, so young.”
“Yeah. He’s just a kid.”
She was having a hard time wrapping her mind around the fact that the young man she’d just talked to last night had tried to take his own life. Sure he was struggling, but they all were in their own way. Rod, though, presented a well-put-together package for someone so young dealing with life-altering injuries. Nic hadn’t pegged him as a suicide risk.
Christ. Group.
Suicide had a habit of breeding more suicide. While Nic had left group, she was sure this would rock their recovery.
“How did it happen?” Nic asked.
“Pills. We found a bottle of painkillers in the van.”
“At home?”
Cece shook his head. “In his vehicle. Left a note. Said he didn’t want her to have to clean it up. Left a note for you, too, Colonel. That’s why I’m here.” She held up a clear plastic evidence bag with a handwritten note in it. “Did he say anything to you?”
Nic shook her head. A note for her? Nic held out her hand. “Can I see the note?”
“Sure. It’s evidence. So, I can’t allow you to take it out of the bag.”
“I see.” Nic felt her knees start to buckle, so she sat down. “I just talked to him last night on the phone.”
“How did he seem?”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yeah, he sounded good. He’s getting married, and we talked about Melody and the baby. She was so excited about the baby. He was a little apprehensive, but thrilled.”
“Did he say anything else?”
Nic ran her hands through her hair and then scrubbed her face. This couldn’t be happening. He had been fine when they talked. She kept telling herself that over and over again.
And still, suicide attempt.
Nic shook her head again, racking her brain for anything from last night’s conversation.
“He said he was having some pain, but nothing a painkiller wouldn’t handle, he said.”
“We found an empty bottle of painkillers on the dash of the van. Seems he might have been taking more than he should have along with the sleeping pills, and he was definitely trying to check out. Know anything about that? How did he seem on the phone?”
“Yeah, no. I mean, I didn’t know he was abusing painkillers, if that’s what you’re asking. I told you he was fine. Upbeat, happy.”
Cece handed Nic the note.
“Can I get you some coffee, Cece?”
“Sure, that would be great, Claire. Long night ahead. I have to go back and interview the fiancée.”
Christ. Nic wanted to be there for Melody and the baby when Cece went back over. From what Rod had told her, it would take a day for Melody’s family to come in and she wanted to make sure Rod had all the help he needed. She’d call the VA and see about getting a counselor out to see Rod.
“Here you go. I put it in a travel cup so you can take it with you.” Claire offered a smile as she handed the cup to Cece.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.”
Nic looked at the note. It was simple.
Nic,
I’m so sorry. I know I’ve let you down. Please watch out for Melody and tell her this isn’t her fault. I love her and my son, I just think this would be easier on them if I wasn’t around.
Sorry buddy.
Rod
Nic tapped the note against her leg. The rate of suicide in those returning from Afghanistan was high. PTSD, injuries, and coming home less that the person who left were all part of a brew that made the servicemember ripe for suicide if they didn’t get counseling and come to terms with their new reality. Nic knew that all too well as she dealt with her own demons. She’d be lying if she didn’t admit to herself that she had considered whether Claire and Grace would be better off without her and her baggage, but it was when she was at her lowest that those thoughts anchored themselves in her soul. She had to work every day to keep them tucked away in the box she had for them. They only came out when she was in counseling and felt like she could control them.
Diligence, hard work, and counseling for both her and Claire had kept her on this side of sane. But if she was being honest, she could easily step over that line. She was always just a foothold away from slipping.
“Okay.” Cece pulled a business card from her breast pocket. “If you think of anything, can you give me a call at my work number?”
“Sure. Um, do you know where they’ve taken him?” Nic knew the protocol for a military attempted suicide, but civilians probably did things differently.
“He’s been admitted to Community Hospital over in Monterey. He’s probably on a fifty-one-fifty hold. Once they run a tox screen and determine if he was under the influence, they’ll most likely let his fiancée see him after a shrink sees him first.”
“What about the van?”
“We had it towed. It had some stuff inside that we need to look at. Once we’ve gone through it, we’ll release it to the fiancée.”
“Melody.”
“Excuse me?”
“His fiancée’s name is Melody Griggs.”
It was the first time Nic saw Cece get a little shaken as she corrected her. “Once we’re done going over it, we’ll release it to Ms. Griggs.”
“Ramirez, we need to get a move on.” A tall cop poked his head around the door.
“Okay.” She turned back to Nic. “Sorry, I have to go.”
“Thanks, Cece.”
“Let me know if you think of anything,” she said as she left. She stopped at the stoop. “I’m really sorry, Nic. I know this is hard, but at least he wasn’t successful.”
Nic choked up. She was thrown by the suicide attempt. “Thank you, Officer Ramirez.” Nic said with the other officer still standing in her doorway.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Closing the door, she leaned against it suddenly feeling the weight of Rod on her shoulders. Now she knew what it felt like being on the other side of an inform. God, she hoped she sounded a little more compassionate when she told families the bad news and listened to their varied, unpredictable, and emotional reactions.
“Honey?”
Nic was trying to piece together her conversation with Rod. Had he said something she missed? Did he ask for help, and was she so into her own pain that she’d overlooked a cry for help?
“Honey?” Claire rested her chin on Nic’s shoulder and wrapped her arms around Nic’s body. “Sweetheart?”
“Huh?”
“Honey, this isn’t your fault.”
Nic looked at Claire, her eyes welling up with tears. “I just talked to him last night, Claire. He didn’t say anything. Nothing. How could he do this to Melody and the baby?”
Claire shrugged. “I wish I knew, hon.”
“He was so happy about the baby. They’d found out it was a boy.” Nic buried her face in her hands and started to sob. A boy. They were going to have a boy. He said they were going to name it after him, against his protests of course, but Melody insisted. Family tradition and all, Rod had told her.
“Honey, I think we should go over and check on Melody.” Claire rubbed Nic’s back and rested her cheek on her head. “Maybe I can help.”
Nic nodded. Claire not only knew what Melody was going through, she knew what was to come. Nic thought she herself had a good idea of what Rod was going through, and yet she couldn’t reason with suicide. It was a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
“I’ll get Grace and take her over to Mrs. Stoddard’s house. I’m sure she won’t mind watching her.”
“Thanks,” Nic said, not really listening. She struggled to get up under the weight of the news. Her back bowed, but she managed to shrug on her jacket and grab the keys to her car. What would she say to Melody? The agony of attempted suicide was heavy. It was something that defied reason, especially to those left behind wondering what they had done to make someone take such actions. Nic replayed their conversation over and over again, but nothing stood out.
Nothing.
Maybe Melody would have some answers. Then again, she didn’t need the third degree right now. Nic was sure the police had done that trying to get answers.
The trip to Rod’s house had been a silent procession. As Nic rounded the corner, she spotted a news truck on the street and the neighbors all hanging out in their front yards. Rod lived in family housing at CSUMB. He and Melody were both getting their degrees, and the school offered family housing to those students. Pulling in behind a car in the drive, Nic killed the engine and sat, staring at the reporter on the stoop who was knocking on the door.
“Fucking vultures,” Nic whispered.
“I recognize that woman. She’s from that independent conservative station. And that one…” Claire pointed to a man standing down below, staring at his phone. “That’s Hank Spelling, reporter for the Monterey Tribune.” Nic followed Claire’s gaze.
Someone walking up the drive caught Nic’s attention. “Oh, great. It’s Mr. Overshare from group.” She wondered how he’d found out so quickly. It didn’t matter; whatever he said would be fodder for the news media. If it bleeds it leads, wasn’t that the saying? Nic noticed he had walked right up to Spelling, avoiding the female reporter entirely, and started talking. A diversion. Well, at least he was good for something.
“Come on, let’s go around back and go in that way,” Nic said, pulling Claire’s hand and easing her out of the car.
Quietly, Nic gently pushed the door shut and slipped under the ivy trestle. The pea gravel crunched under her steps, but it only made her quicken her pace, pulling Claire along. She didn’t want to be caught, and she sure as hell didn’t want to answer anyone’s questions about Rod.
She peered through the sheer curtain at the slider and saw Melody sobbing on the couch as she stared at her cell phone. The room was almost dark, but the light of her phone was just enough to see her face. Tapping on the door, Nic waved at Melody, but Melody didn’t move.
