Served

Now And Then

My phone rang for the third time. Whoever it was they were determined to piss me the hell off.
It was after nine and I was still at the station, sitting at my ever cluttered desk. My heart was being poured out over some paperwork concerning the murder of Wallace Barnes and his trusted secretary, Anita Peterson. They were both murdered by the same man, Raul Sanchez. The phone rang again breaking my chain of thoughts. It took me a moment to realize that it was personal phone that was blaring in my pocket, shattering the silence of the office.
How did I not notice this before now?
I answered the phone but before I could say anything the person on the other line asked “When are you coming home?” Her voice was so icy it chilled my bones.
“Well hello to you too,” I attempted to lighten the mood.            
       It was my wife, and although I was a detective, someone didn’t need an IQ of 120 to figure she was pissed off. I heard the hard steel in her voice through the phone.                                  She let out a sigh of exasperation, “this is the fourth night in a row.”
Ashley was definitely not in the talking mood.                “I’m coming home now,” I lied.                   Ashley knew it was a lie too. I thought it gave her some amount of comfort so I keep saying it every time she called in the nights. We both knew I wouldn’t leave the station until another three hours has passed, working on a frozen case.
“Your dinner is in the microwave. I’ll be asleep when you come in. Don’t wake me up!” I heard the disconnecting tone in my ear as she hung up.
            I rose from my position, upsetting a couple of documents as I moved. A cramp had embedded its self in my right thigh. The sudden urge for coffee forced me to hobble down the dimly lit corridor to the break room. I tried to get her off my mind.

Ashley.

Our five year anniversary as approaching fast and I marveled at my good luck. She was the sweetest. I don’t know what more a man like me could ask. I was 23 when I met her in a cab. It was raining cats and dogs the night, I was just a rookie at the time and she was getting off from work.
A kindergarten teacher. That was the first thing I thought. She smelled of rain mixed with clay dough. Not a pleasant smell, but to me it was heaven on earth. I couldn’t stop staring at her face. I was in awe, and memorized by her beauty I forgot to close the cab’s door. My jacket was soaked and as I fumbled to take it off my wallet slipped out and landed on the seat. The cab was dark and I didn’t see the result of my actions.
When I reached my destination, I pulled a twenty dollar bill out of my pocket. I have learnt to never place all my eggs in one basket and proceeded to exit the taxi.
I tapped on the driver’s window and said the words, “For me and the pretty girl in the back. The change is yours my good man.”
He gave me a toothy grin and eyed the money greedily. The decision seemed like a good one at the time, until I felt the pang of regret and despair when I realized I lost what might have been the only chance to speak to the beauty from the cab.
The next morning I heard a knock at the door and was surprised to see the cab driver from the previous night. He produced a brown bill phone which I recognized as my own. I questioned him as to how he had obtained my possessions in his hand. He gave me a toothy grin a wink and told me ‘the pretty girl’ from last night asked him to deliver it to me. I gave the cab driver a twenty for his trouble and a paper fell out as I opened my wallet.               A phone number was written on it in a small, neat scribble and a name was written underneath. 

Ashley.

I had mustered the courage to call her and lo and behold, I asked her out and she said yes. One date led to another, then another and another.  I found out she was indeed a kindergarten school teacher and that she was studying to become a nurse. I jokingly said “So that when we’re married and I’m sick you can take care of me?”
Her cheeks reddened into a deep blush and she smiled showing her teeth. Her comment was ‘as long as you don’t come home with any bullet holes’.
From there on then, I knew that I had a good shot with this girl and I wasn’t about to blow it. Back then work wasn’t so stressing. What I mainly did was run errands for the “big league cops like picking up their kids from school, getting them coffee, lunch (not donuts though). 
Things were getting serious with Ashley and she even moved in with me and sold her old apartment. That was a really big move on her part and it showed a lot of commitment to building a life with me.
I wanted to marry her.
I had planned to do a romantic yet simple proposal but I honestly did not know what her ring size was. I didn’t want to ask her outright, that would be a dead giveaway.  Getting desperate, I had waited until she fell asleep one night and then I wrapped a length of twine around her ring finger and gently pulled it off careful not disturb both Ashley and the form of the twine ring. 
Two months later, I was on my knees in front of her with a simple but elegant ring which screamed the statement ‘I LOVE YOU’ and I was saying the words “will you marry me?”
After what seemed like an eternity passed, she had said the one word I wanted to hear.
YES.
We got married and during that time I got promoted. I was a workaholic, consumed by job and gave about a third of my attention to my wife. She was at peace with this until she started wanting a child. We had a discussion about it but I decided we weren’t in the position for that right now. At least I wasn’t. I had no idea what it would take of me to become a father. I often worried about criminals targeting my wife. If we had a child, not only would that be a liability to me but a perfect asset for criminals. Fears ran through my head; 
Would he/she be kidnapped and used against in the line of my work?

How would I cope with an additional member in my family?

Were we in a good financial position to support this child?

Would I still continue my regular work patterns?

How much my child would be affected by me going to work every day knowing that one day I might never return home?

And the most prominent one;

What if I am not a good father?

Things started sailing smoothly for my wife and I. She graduated nursing school and I got another promotion; this time I turned a detective.   Together we pursued a house in the peace and quiet of the suburbs. To summarize everything, lie was great.

Then came Raul Garcia, a notorious mob boss, a nobody who quickly captured fame and glory in my city, for all the wrong reasons.  A ruthless killer who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. His ability to be one step ahead of us made me burn with rage that could only be ceased if Raul was out of the game.  Permanently.
I often thought he had a source in the precinct. But no, that notion was too absurd. The persons under my command were full of integrity and would never sell information to a scumbag like Raul.

He drove a wedge between me and my wife. Now two years later over 57 murders were unsolved and all had Raul’s MO on them.  My team had relentlessly tried to pin him down for one murder or the other. Somehow, just somehow, he always manages to foil our plans. Cleaning up evidence, paying multiple persons to lie, creating a perfect alibi for him and also making key witnesses “disappear”, were just some of the dirty tricks Raul played in order to keep his freedom. For the past six months, I’ve been baffled by what could have been the possibly motive for Raul killing Barnes and his secretary.
    I was at the coffee machine and was contemplating if I should stay or go. I scanned the entire room; all lights were off with the exception of mine. I ditched the coffee idea and thought that with a little, no make that a lot of coaxing I might be able to enjoy the rest of the night with my beautiful wife.