At Home ~ Part II

'But God made the earth by his power;

he founded the world by his wisdom

and stretched out the heavens by his understanding.'

~Jeremiah 10:12~

           “I’ll never get this thing fixed.” Howard ran his fat fingers back and forth over the curser of the laptop, already two cuss words into his tirade. “Technology. What is it good for? Ulcers, that’s the only thing! Why’d I ever agree to this.”

            “Agree to it.” Declan repeated with a laugh. “You drew the short straw. Besides, you’ve been doing this longer then me.”

            “I’ve never had to take point.” Howard explained, finally pushing back from his computer. They had set up in the bullpen, rearranging the order for this year’s academy curriculum. The K-9 unit wasn’t sure if they could do a week, as they would be in the midst of training a new dog. And there was unrest with the police scenarios at the end of the class. A student who had attended an academy east of Cleveland had shot a gun accidently without blanks, injuring a classmate. There was a lot of media Band-Aids needed for that one. But Declan wasn’t so much concerned about that right now.

            “Why don’t we call it a night.” Howard announced, even though it was only five’o’clock. “This’ll keep till tomorrow. Or we can meet up Saturday if need be.”

            Declan nodded, closing the window to their power points. “Maybe… I’ll bring Brittany along. See what she thinks.”

            “She’ll be able to attend next year.” Howard grinned at him. “Just like she’s been begging since she was six.”

            Wasn’t that the truth. Patty thought- no, she knew- that it was why Brittany committed herself so hard to homework and to chores, or any of her other activities. She wanted to prove her responsibility to attend the academy. Declan would give anything to see that relentless pursuit now.

            “We’re back in our house tonight.” Declan offered up the information, like it might lessen some of his anxiety. Howard lifted a brow. “It’ll take weeks for the labs to dig up anything, though they’re not holding out for much.”

            “Our house was as clean as the others.” Declan growled. “No prints, for all the stuff that he bothers to touch. No one saw him enter or leave the house… Howard, this guy’s smugness is getting to me.”

            “I gathered.” Howard rose out of his seat, cracking his fifty-year old spine.

            “I’m ready for my own kitchen, my own desk… my own bed.” Declan admitted. They’d stayed at the Ottens for the last three nights and he’d been on the floor for all of them. “But I want to disinfect it all first. Purify it, get all traces of him out of there. Make it my house again.”

            Howard nodded. “You and all of his other victims. Did you talk to Patty about visiting Dr. Tawny?”

            Declan stacked the papers that he decided to leave in his locker for the night. “We agreed that we can’t make Brittany talk to a stranger. And I use ‘agreed’ loosely.”

            “Don’t tell me she’s angry at you.” Howard looked at him in surprise. “Patty's always been understanding. She knows we can’t be everywhere…”

            “That’s just it.” Declan scowled at the clock on the wall. He’d make it home in time for dinner, he had promised. “I was supposed to be there, when Brittany got off her bus. Patty’s schedule changed for a week and she couldn’t be home until 6:30. Naturally, we didn’t want Brittany home alone with this ‘Blank Burglar’ running rampant. I agreed, but we needed to work on this…”

            “Oh no.” Howard leaned back on his heels, getting the picture. “You stayed with me when you told your wife you’d be at home.”

            Declan pointed a finger at him, gesturing bingo. Howard sucked air through his teeth. “Yep. I’d make myself comfortable on that family couch if I was you.”

            “I deserve that much.” Declan sighed. But for how long?

`&`&`&`&`&`

            “Daddy.”

            Declan aroused at the voice, narrowly stopping himself from rolling off the couch. He blinked through the sleep, looking up at a wide-eyed Brittany. Once again, he saw her brown eyes tainted with red. Declan didn’t say anything, just sat up, making room on the cushions. Brittany immediately curled up beside him, head on his shoulder. “There’s… there are so many shadows in my room.”

            Her tears started up and Declan let her cry for awhile. Every sob jerked his heart and the warmth of his child’s body was the only thing grounding him.

            “You’re sleeping down here?” Brittany asked, her voice exhausted at the end of her crying.

            “Just keeping an eyes on things.” Declan told her. Brittany sniffed. “Liar. Mom’s mad at you.”

            “No flies on you, kid.” Declan teased her in his best John Wayne voice. He noticed hair in her face and brushed it back. In doing so, he spotted the redness around the left of her neck. He’d watched it go from blue and purple to red and in time, it would fade back to the peach pink of her skin. He knew how hard one had to grip to leave a bruise. And he wanted to apply ten times as much pressure to the burglar’s throat.

            “I thought Mom was overreacting,” Brittany mentioned softly. Then she pulled her arms tighter around her stomach. “But, Dad I was so scared. And I didn’t want to be. I tried not to…”

            “No.” Declan turned his daughter to look at him. “Don’t apologize for what happened. Not ever. I taught you not to excite or to instigate.”

            “You also said don’t show fear.” Brittany said.

            “I’ll take two out of three.” Declan assured her, pleased that at least there was a small smile on her face. Did she even know how precious a sight she was to him and her mother? Brittany knew about her parents’ struggle to have kids. She’d been their miracle, their shooting star. Patty referred to her as her lightening in a jar because, for them, it would never strike twice. But it was something that they couldn't to explain until Brittany had children of her own.

            “You lay down,” Declan rubbed Brittany’s shoulder. “Get some sleep.”

            “You’ll stick around?” Brittany tensed slightly as he moved the blanket to cover up. Declan pointed at the red chair next to the couch. “I’ll be right there.”

            Brittany eyed the chair, nodded, then laid down in the space that Declan had arranged for her. Her eyes were closed in minutes, Declan stroking her back until they did.

            “I’m sorry, sweetie.” Declan leaned in, planting a kiss on her temple.

`&`&`&`&`&`

            Declan entered the kitchen cautiously, the browned meat juicy, yet crisp at the edges on the plate that he was bringing in from the backyard. The weekend had rolled around and the chief had given it to him. As paid leave.

            “Take it, King.”  Chief Wray had practically ordered. “For yourself and your family.”

            Declan didn’t argue and he was making the most of it. Despite the temperature, this Saturday night they all deserved an all-American meal of burgers and fries. He knew the way to both of his girls’ hearts- ketchup, salt, and cheddar cheese.

            “Brittany!” Declan called out, closing the backdoor. “Patty! Dinner!”

            There was a thumping from above, then Brittany plowed in, right for the dish of red onions. “Oh yeah! I’m starving!”

            “Heyheyhey,” Declan moved the dishes from her grubby hands. “Wash up first, you vulture.”

            Brittany stuck her tongue out on her way to the sink. Declan looked up to see Patty eyeing the set dining room table. “You set the table?”

            Declan nodded, moving the plates with the patties and buns to the middle of the table. “I also made dinner and I’ll be washing and drying annnd putting the dishes away afterwards.” He sidled up to her and led her closer by the small of her back. “And you, my queen, will lift nary a finger tonight.”

            She eyeballed him now like she was nuts. Declan eyed her back, giving a head tilt toward Brittany. “I want to move past this just as much as you do.”

            Patty’s eyes glimmered, but she kept her face stoic. “You’ll never put your job before your family again?”

            “Never.” Declan swore. “And, quoting your father, I’ll do better to remember that marriage is thinking for two, not one.”

            Patty’s face relaxed. “You had to swallow a lot of pride on that one.”

            “You have no idea.” Declan nudged his forehead against hers. She seemed to take that as a launch code and kissed him. Declan’s whole body perked. Oh yes! Burgers were a good idea!

            “Ew!” Brittany exclaimed from behind. “Gross out much.”

            There was nothing gross about hamburgers and fries and the trio talked over their week as they munched away. Patty mentioned new pets at the clinic, Brittany brought up a school field trip in February, and Declan felt the pressing worry leave his chest for once. While in law enforcement it was never truly gone, but it did get relieved once in a while.

            Remind me to send the chief a thank you note. Declan stood up over an hour later, mentally prepping for the task of washing and drying.

            “No.” Brittany held her hand over her plate. “I mean… we’re not done, are we.”

            “Don’t tell me you’re still hungry.” Patty eyed her candidly. “I might have to go on a three-day fast.”

            Brittany giggled. “It’s just… this’ll end and I’ll have to start thinking again. About, you know.”

            Declan put the plates down and sat, his worry back. Brittany lowered her eyes, toying with the peppershaker. She looked guilty for bringing it up, but- like her mother- she was honest. And Declan waited with Patty for her to go ahead with that honesty.

            “I think it’s worse that I never saw his face.” Brittany stated after a minute. “My brain creates these horrible, mean-looking men and I keep thinking that they’re around every corner…”

            “Oh, honey.” Patty took their daughter’s hand.

            Declan sighed. “Brittany, you remember me telling you how I was car-jacked when I was sixteen.”

            “Yeah.” She nodded with those trusting brown eyes. She still trusted him? That gave Declan courage. “Well, I haven’t told you that every time I get near a car, my chest gets tight. My mouth gets dry and I have to force myself not to finger my weapon. Sometimes, there are just things you can’t work around.”

            “But you can’t be afraid of your own house.” Brittany insisted. “Cause, that’s what I am."

            Oh Lord, where are the words? Declan gave an internal moan. He wanted his family to feel safe.

            “Brittany,” Patty asked. “what makes this house our home?”

            Declan cocked an eyebrow along with Brittany. She thought about it, then shrugged. “You and Dad moved in. I was born here, broke the banister when I was five… we spent that one summer building the tool shed out back…” she looked back at Declan. “I got to have my own little playhouse under the basement stairs and we roast marshmallows in the fireplace in the winter.”

            Declan smiled at the memory of the campout they had had during a two-day blizzard when she was nine.

            “That barely scratches the surface of all that God’s given us in this house.” Patty swallowed with sudden emotion. “That coward that was here- don’t let him steal that from you.”

            Brittany absorbed that, nodding again. “Ok, but… can we just stay together for a little longer?”

            Declan got up again. “I’ll get the marshmallows.”

            The dishes could wait.

~To Be Continued~

At Home ~ Part I

‘You are worthy, our Lord & God, to receive glory and honor and power,

for you created all things, and by your will

they were created and have their being.’ ~ Revelation 4:11

            “I’ll be late getting home this week.” Declan had explained to his daughter on Sunday night. “It can’t be helped… we don’t tell Mom, ok?”

            Brittany’s blonde eyebrows had scrutinized him closely for a moment, the tips ticking at the position of leverage she found herself. “You gotta buy me those caramel-iced brownies from Chip’s. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

            That had been their deal and Brittany’s Wednesday package sat atop Declan’s files in the passenger’s seat. Five hours of overtime this week alone and he still found plenty of clutter for his desk at home. It just never ended; he would like to see criminals have their nine to five disrupted. Have their dinners and holidays cut short... but then, they would need a conscience for that.

            Ok, not fair. Declan scolded himself, turning onto his street. Sorry, God. Nineteen years as a deputy and I should know better.

            Nineteen years… boy, had he seen plenty. Running a hand over his wrinkling forehead, Declan pulled into their driveway. He stopped before the garage. He’d leave the car out for him and Brittany to wash after dinner; a clause in their deal. Brittany only got the brownies if she helped out with a few chores. Though their family’s psyche was a bit twisted when it came to chores; Declan detested them, Brittany revealed in them.

            No self-respecting 13-year-old ‘reveals’ in chores. Declan got out of the car. He juggled the files and the brownies on his way to the front door. Keys? Aw man, in the ignition!

            He was always doing that! Declan turned from their front stoop when it caught his eye. Or rather, the lack of it; of the glass in the left-most panel of the front door. What…

            His instincts answered the question. The files and brownie bag scattered from his hands and he rammed inside. The door didn’t protest, bits of the glass pushed across the foyer tile. Declan’s heart was racing and he choked on his scream for Brittany. The foyer of their home led into an open living room and Declan’s palms began to sweat against the metal of his 9mm. The walls- they were blank. All of the pictures and décor had been taken down.

            “Dispatch,” Declan spoke into the radio at his shoulder. “This’ Deputy Sheriff King. 211 at 384 Silver Day Avenue. Units in the vicinity respond!”

            He didn’t listen for a response. “Brittany!”

            Not a sound answered him.

            Her flute lesson was cancelled today. Declan reasoned- to himself or to God? She- She should be here.

            “Brittany!” the father in him roared for her this time. When he should’ve been yelling ‘police’ and establishing his presence. But he wasn’t going to war with his two personalities. She’d go into our room. Patty and I have always told her to.

            “Brittany!” Declan ordered her name this time, mounting the stairs cautiously, weapon ready. They had a long hallway- there was Brittany’s room and the bathroom to the right, his and Patty’s room and the guest bedroom to the left. All the doors were closed. “Honey, it’s Dad. Answer me!”

            “Daaad!” Brittany screamed. In the next instant she was flying from behind her bedroom door. Declan met her at the top of the stairs, gun pointed down so he could wrap an arm around her. He needed to feel her, even if she was shaking. Thank you, God.

            “He told me- to stay in my room,” Brittany hiccuped into Declan’s shoulder.

            “I’m here, I’m here,” Declan rocked her slightly. “How long?”

            “Seven minutes.”

            She couldn’t be wrong. Brittany excelled at math.

            “You’re so smart.” Declan breathed in, catching the scent of his daughter’s hair. It’d break him if he didn’t let go now. “Get back in your room, lock the door.”

            Her grip tightened. “Dad…”

            “Brittany, now.” Declan told her, drawing her back to meet her eyes. They were brown like his, only tears and fear had reddened them. “I’ve got to check the house. I’ll be right back.”

            He waited until she had retreated back into her room. He pushed down any parental impulses and went back to checking the house. Even though he knew that the guy would be long gone.

`&`&`&`&`&`

            Their neighbors, the Ottens, were generous enough to house them for the night- and as many nights as necessary, Mrs. Otten had insisted.

            “Even after that tacky police tape is off of your front door.” She had smiled warmly across her and Mr. Otten's dinner table. It was a good thing that she meant well. 

             Declan rubbed at his eyes, sitting on the edge of the sofa bed in the Otten’s basement. His spirit and body were completely drained at two-o-clock in the morning. But he didn’t think it fair to sleep when his wife and daughter weren’t.

            Oh God… Declan moaned into his hands, trying to purge the possibilities from his head with the holy name.

The man who had been in the King house was a spree burglar that had been hitting the community since July. Every two weeks, always on a Thursday, this man burglarized a house. It was a terrible smear on the department to have not caught him and all the officers were feeling the heat raining down from city hall and the public. It was the burglar's recklessness and predictability that seemed to keep him invisible. He struck during daylight hours, used front doors, and left a more then notable trademark. Any pictures or artwork, anything hanging on the walls inside his latest house, he took down.

            He takes his time to prove that he can’t be caught. Declan’s hands squeezed around the sides of his head. He doesn’t bow down to anyone or anything. And he touched my child! Oh, God…

Declan looked up as Patty tiptoed back down from the guest bedroom. She wore a ragged sweatshirt that matched her strained face. She caught his eyes for a second before moving past him and around the bed. Declan knew to worry. Patty was the most direct and up-front person and to have her not speak to him… that was her at her foulest.

“She asleep?” Declan ventured.

“Hopefully for the rest of the night.” Patty pretended to fluff her pillow. “I’m going to take the day off tomorrow; she might want to stay home from school…”

“Don’t,” Declan shook his head. “You used up your sick days for our summer vacation. The chief’ll let me work third shift tomorrow…”

“No, no,” Patty waved his suggestion off. “Don’t let us interrupt the department’s schedule. We don’t want to feel like a burden.”

Declan turned to eye her fully. “Excuse me?”

Patty didn’t elaborate, slipping into her side of the covers. Declan watched her, hardly fooled. “You want me to list the number of ways that I’m sorry? Want me to describe my guilt?”

“It shouldn’t be guilt, it should be shame.” Patty let the curt in her voice sting him, her eyes- a blazing hazel-green- locked on him. “Thirty minutes, Declan. With driving, that puts it more at forty-five. I asked you for thirty minutes.”

“I was getting my job done-” Declan put in.

“Planning out the new curriculum.” Patty nodded. She was aware of the citizen’s academy because Declan had been helping teach it for four years. That, and it was all Brittany talked about. The second she turned fourteen, she was going to be attending, she swore to the both of them.

“You worked on a curriculum,” Patty’s fists balled up into the sheet. “And a criminal broke into our house! Do you think he would’ve tried that if your car had been in the driveway? We agreed that we didn’t want her home alone.”

Declan knew he didn’t have an answer for that. He hadn’t wanted Brittany home alone either, with everything that was going on. “I’m… sorry. I… I didn’t see the harm in it.”

“Or the harm in having her lie to me about it.” Patty shook her head, fussing with the pillow again. “I’m the one who likes keeping secrets Declan, not the other way around.”

“Patty, it had nothing to do-”

“She has a mark, Declan!” Patty hissed, the tears hitting her eyes. “He left a mark on her neck from where he dragged her. He could’ve done worse!”

She closed her eyes, unable to think it. At least that was something they could agree on. Declan exhaled, eyes downcast. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think-”

Patty pushed her palm toward him, eyes still closed. “You… you let me down, Declan. And I can’t handle that right now.”

And she turned on her side without another word. Declan looked at her back for a moment before taking his pillow and stretching out on the floor. Lord, how do I fix this?

~To Be Continued~