The box

     Evie was walkin’ round the department (outside), stretchin’ her legs. Dillon had called and asked her if she cared to come get him. It had been a grueling day. After the ditch incident, it worried him that he would hurt himself. Or worse, someone else. Sadly it was almost midnight and he was just gettin’ everything wrapped up. 

     As Evie circled back behind the building, a baby started screaming. It took her completely by surprise. The noise was coming from a weird box that was next to a none-descript door. She had passed it before but didn’t pay it much attention. 

     She questioned herself if she should open the box, hovering over it. Suddenly, it stopped. She convinced herself, it was all in her head. 

     Dillon opened the door for her with a baby in his arms.  Evie gasped, “where did it come from?”

     “Out of the box. Want to hold him?”

     “Why was there a baby in that box?”

     Dillon slid the baby into her cradled arms.  “He had a note pinned to the little chest of his shirt, ‘I’ve destroyed too many lives. I will not destroy another one’. The box is a Safe Haven box. There’s one at the hospital. One at each fire station. Honestly, I never thought anyone would use this one. Mothers in crisis who are unable to care for their newborns can anonymously surrender an infant.”

     “This is heartbreaking.”

     “But if someone adopts and loves him. Isn’t he better off?” 

     Evie walked around, cooing to the now silent baby. “It’s sad that the mother felt so desperate. That had to be gut wrenching.”

     “At the same time, it took tremendous courage.”

     Tiny came out from the back, with the mouth piece of her headset bent over her head. “I thought I heard an alarm. Someone really used it.” Evie held the baby out to her. “Oh no. Children hate me.” She looked back and forth between Evie and Dillon. “Are you gonna keep him?”

     Evie and Dillon just stared at each other, she spoke first. “Is that even an option?”

     “I don’t know what the process is once we take him to the hospital. I’ve not had this happen before. I assume he will go into the foster care system.”

     As Evie and Dillon drove to the hospital, she asked, “you said you didn’t think anyone would use the baby box at the sheriff’s department?” He moaned an acknowledgment, while holding the baby as she drove. “Do you think it could be connected to Deek?” Dillon was stunned by the comment. When he didn’t speak, she continued, “all the deputies know about that box. As I’m sure their families. Is someone trying to tell you something?”

     “I may have to deputize you yet.”

The funeral

     Evie’s heart skipped a beat as she stepped into the bedroom, Dillon had on a very nice uniform. She collected herself, “does that uniform have a name?”

     Dillon gave her a sad smile. “Not formally. We have our tactical uniforms that we wear every day. And our dress uniforms for such occasions.” She held up the jacket for him. As he slid his arms in, he spoke, “I realize this is askin’ a lot.” He paused. “As much as you can,” He held her hands. Playing with her fingers. “I need you today Evie.”

     She held his face, “I will be as close as I can get to you.”

     The minute they got to the funeral home, they saw Banks being bombarded by the press. As they approached the steps, Banks spoke, “this is not the place for your questions.”

     A woman chimed over the crowd, “why so much police prescents? Feeling guilty?”

     As Dillon held the door open for Evie, Banks took a breath to open his mouth but Dillon pulled him inside before he could speak. 

     When they got back home after the service, Evie walked past the bathroom door, going to the bedroom to change. She saw Dillon’s shoes. There he sat, in the floor, behind the door. When she touched him, he fell apart. She wrapped her arms around him and would be right beside him, as long as he needed her to be. 

     A week later, Dillon was settin’ at the kitchen table, there were papers and receipts all over the place. 

     “Need help?” She sat with him, coffee in hand. 

     He looked at her for a long moment. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

     “What ja doin’?”

     “Deek didn’t have any insurance. I’m figuring out how much everything cost. We did the ‘in leu of flowers’ but still came up short. I need to prove that none of my deputies got paid for that. It was all voluntary. No department funds were used. Show where the money came from. And publish it in the paper.”

     “You really do run a transparent office.”

     “We do our best to. It’s important to me that we are good stewards of government money. It belongs to the people of Sunshine Valley.”

     “Was that an officers burial you gave Deek?”

     “It was.”

      “And the press is screamin’ you did it for show because your deputy killed him?”

     He gave a heavy sigh, “Sunshine Sue being the loudest.”

     

     “How short are you?”

     “$1,500.00.”

     “I’ll do a private donation.”

     “You don’t have to do that.”

     “I know. This is important to you. And you are important to me.”

     He kissed the top of her hand. “Thank you.”

Round 2

Contains language some readers may find offensive.

     Bradley, Dillon, and Clint took turns (in teams) questioning Calvin. At first, they got nothing. He just sat in his chair and rocked. They took a break for lunch before deciding to try again. 

     “Round 2,” Clint smirked as he and Dillon walked into the interview room. Calvin was already there with a legal aid lawyer. 

     “Savannah,” Dillon nodded. 

     “Calvin,” Dillon started. “Have you been told that Deek is dead?”

      Through gritted teeth he moaned, “no. Filthy bastard.”

     Clint asked, “please confirm that the morning of the 25th, myself and Deputy Bradley met with you, under the direction of Dr. Stidham, you were put on leave?”

     “Bastards!” He screamed. He tried to shake the chair he was sittin’ in.

     “Please say yes or no,” Savannah encouraged. 

     “Yes, you stupid bitch.”

      Clint continued, “Deputy Bradley and myself escorted you from the property, when we did, you had on street clothes and left in your own car?”

     He just laughed. Savannah gave him a sharp look. “Yes.” He answered.

     “The cruiser you drove to Deek’s, where did you get it?” Dillon asked. 

     “Promised Todd a date with my sister if he looked the other way when I drove it off.” 

     “And the uniform?” 

      “You really do have shit for brains.” He laughed, screamed, then answered, “Halloween costume. Stupid.” He started rocking again. 

     “What were you doing at Deek’s place?” Dillon asked. 

     The acidic smell of urine flooded the room. Calvin started laughing and bouncing in his seat. “Meetin’ over. I pissed myself.”

     “Savannah,” Dillon looked at her. She shrugged.

     “Ah hell nah. It’s in-human makin’ me sit in my own piss.”

     “Maybe you should have asked for a break.” Clint spoke. 

     “I wanted to beat some sense into the reject. Make him stop messin’ with my girl.”

     “I had heard you were having relationship troubles. Care to tell us about those?” Clint asked. 

     Calvin passed gas. It was toxic. The three adults in the room covered their noses but continued the conversation. “You know what’s next,” he howled.

     “Tell us about your relationship. How was Deek messin’ with your girl?” Dillon asked. 

      Calvin tried to make a come hither stare at Savannah, “tell me something? Are all you women just alike? Cheatin’, no good, useless, pussies? I mean that’s all you’re good at right? Just a piece of ass?” He took a deep breath. “I want a male lawyer. A man. Someone with a dick. Not a pussy.”

     Dillon ended the interview with the flick of his wrist. A deputy came in and took Calvin away. Followed by the janitor. “I’m sorry about that Savannah.” Dillon apologized.

     “Thank you sheriff. But I’ve been called worse by better men.”

The socials

     Bradley and Patty came over. The 3 of them chatted as Patty took Sara to a bedroom to examine her. Then they set around the kitchen table as Sara filled out her report. 

     When they were alone, Dillon and Evie curled up on the couch watching all the social media video clips they could find of the revival. “The one time you need Sunshine Sue to be around,” Dillon hissed. “She’s not.” 

     Evie was a great help in identifying some of the people throwing. She didn’t know their names. But she connected objects to arms. Hands to arms. Arms to people. A few, neither of them could tell who threw what. 

     

     Evie sat up straight, “isn’t that Rebecca Ledbetter?”

     Dillon started the clip over and slowed it down. “I think you’re right.”

     “What is she throwing, a potato?”

     “Look how Sara reacts when it hits her.” Sara had opened her mouth wide, as if she was screaming. Or starting to cry. Before she bent over grabbing her thigh. 

     “Love her heart. No wonder she was in tears.”

     “You know, I might expect kids to do something like this. Everyone we have identified has been an adult.” He sighed, “are they protesting?”

     “Even if they are, ever heard of a peaceful protest?”

     “A female preacher?” He mindlessly asked. 

     “There are female preachers in the Bible. This,” she pointed at his tablet. “This isn’t Biblical, in my opinion.”

     “People get bent out of shape when you start messin’ with their religion. A lot of folks don’t believe women should be preaching.”

     “But to hurt someone?” Evie huffed. “They physically hurt her.”

     “You know when I start arrestin’ people, they are gonna start screaming religious freedom.”

      “There’s nuttin’ free about hurting someone. You don’t like the message, get up and walk out. Don’t kill the preacher.” Dillon looked at Evie grinnin’. “What?” She blushed. 

     “Gettin’ a little hot under the collar?”

     “Maybe. This is just wrong.”

     “I have something that will make you laugh.” Dillon shrunk what they had been watchin’ and opened a video he had saved on the tablet. It opened with a view out of a windshield. 

     “That’s Smith’s house?” Evie asked. Dillon moaned in acknowledgment. You could hear Dillon callin’ for her and identifying himself. He walked up the steps, was about to knock when Smith came runnin’ from the side of the house, waving a broom over her head, screaming. Dillon almost fell before jumping over the steps to get away from her. And Evie was right, Smith must not own a bra. Her eyes were bugged out. Mouth was contorted. As she swong her arms in one direction, her breasts went the other. Her hair was as wild as she was. Evie tried to conceal her laughter. “I’m sorry. She looks like a cartoon character. What was she doin’, makin’ shine?”

     “Maybe.”