Chapter Thirty-Five: Joanie, Friday

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#hotcoplangley

This was a thing, now.

Joanie groaned as she looked at the images of her slightly flushed face from Tuesday. Someone, she had no idea who, had created this hashtag, whatever that was, and attached it to images and videos of her being interviewed at the scene of that accident, which had taken most of the day to clear.

"It's not terrible," Fatima said as she looked at the screen over her shoulder. She was the one who first brought her attention to the phenomenon, which Joanie didn't quite understand but still felt indignant about, knowing someone was out there commenting on her like this.

"Oh, yeah?" Joanie asked wryly. "Would you want your image attached to this thing? It could easily apply to anybody serving as a police officer in the city and township of Langley." And if there were any other cities named Langley other than in B.C., other police might find themselves tagged here without their knowledge.

"Well, I guess I wouldn't," Fatima admitted, "but only because I don't want to distress my parents; they worry enough about me as it is with the danger inherent in this profession, as well as the racism and Islamophobia in the community I police."

"Uh-huh," Joanie said absently, still seething at image after image of her. Who was posting this shit?! All of the handles attached to the posts appeared to be created to be purposefully anonymous, impervious to tracking down and confronting.

"I know who I'd like to tag with that hashtag, though," Fatima, younger than her and more comfortable with using social media, said.

Joanie turned to face her. "You're not still hot for your partner, are you? You know he's still married, right?"

Fatima sighed in resignation. "I know. My parents certainly wouldn't want me dating a white guy, and a married or divorced white guy even less. There's nothing wrong with a little harmless fantasy, though."

"Can I do anything to stop this from happening?" Joanie asked, pointing to the screen. "I haven't even officially taken over the role of media relations officer yet, and already I'm the subject of objectification."

Fatima grimaced. "Not really. As soon as anyone with a phone or camera uploads a photo or video of you and adds that tag, it's on there, and there's not much you can do about it." She flinched at what she saw on Joanie's face and said, "You're kind of a celebrity, now, and it just comes with the territory."

"I was briefly famous after the Battle of Barnet," Joanie grumbled. "There were media camped outside my house, and after that the creeps started coming round." It occurred to her that Joe was right, that taking on this role would bring that unwanted attention back on her. It infuriated her that she had to afford Joe credit for anything, because with that realization came another: she missed him, and she didn't want to, because she was still hurt by his admission.

"Shit," Fatima said, shaking her head in sympathy. "That would indeed suck."

"If the wrong person sees my mug on TV and remembers my address, my safety could be in jeopardy again." Joanie sprang out of her chair and charged for Superintendent Baker's office. 

She knocked and waited for him to give her leave to enter before going in. She saluted him and he asked, "What can I do for you, Sergeant Mara?"

"Sir, I need to bring to your attention an unintended consequence of my taking on the role of media relations officer for the department."

His eyebrows rose. "What's that, Sergeant?"

"Do you know what a hashtag is, sir?"

"A what?"

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