Movement to the side of Jake pulled him from the banter between his detectives. McGuire stood in his doorway with his arms folded over his chest as he listened in on the conversation.
“Jake, you got a minute?” Shamus asked.
“Sure, what’s up?” Twice in one day, he hoped it was better news than this morning.
“We’ll talk in my office.” McGuire turned and walked in. Jake followed. “Shut the door.”
“More bad news on Spaulding?”
“No. The board reviewed your request.” Lord Christ, the man has the best poker face I’ve ever seen.
“What’s their decision?” Jake braced himself for the news. The way this day was going, it couldn’t be good.
“The chief and I feel you’re not ready to sit at a desk handling administrative issues. We feel you and the citizens of Wilkesbury will be happier and better served with you on the streets with Louie,” McGuire said.
With his stomach sinking to his knees, he asked, “Did the board review any other items on their agenda?”
McGuire stared him down for a second before he stuck out his hand. “Congratulations, Lieutenant! You’ve earned it, Jake. This division is yours, if you still want it.”
“I do.” He’d been apprehensive when he took the exam. If he passed he wasn’t guaranteed homicide. The brass would put him where they felt he was needed. This was a gift.
“You’re a credit to this department and the city. The ceremony will take place at the mayor’s office on the twenty-fifth at noon. Congratulations again.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m sure we’ll go out for a couple of beers to celebrate. Join us?”
“I’d love to. Instead I’ll be sitting in a hot, sweaty room, waiting for my child to dance, applauding like I’m at a Broadway show. Boys are much easier to raise than girls. Think of me when you lift your glass. I’ve never had a better officer on my team than you, Jake.”
Those recitals could take hours. Louie once guilted him into one of Marisa’s, and as her godfather, he’d had no choice but to say yes. Every year after that he made damn sure he had plans. He washed the horrific memory of it out of his head.
Ignoring Louie’s finger tapping when he returned to his desk, Jake picked up the Wagner file and started to read.
“Okay, what gives? What did the captain want this time?”
“That’s Lieutenant to you, Detective.”
Louie jumped up. He pulled Jake into his arms for a hug instead of giving him a handshake. “Well this calls for a real celebration. Hey, Burke, Sergeant Carrington is now your Lieutenant. He’s the head cheese of homicide. Hot damn!”
Louie threw a couple air punches. Jake hoped Louie’s test results were positive this time around. It killed Louie when he’d failed the sergeant’s test not once but twice. But maybe the third time around was the charm. He wondered why Louie’s face didn’t split in half with such a wide grin on it.
Cops swarmed Jake’s desk from all divisions.
Louie tapped him on the shoulder. “Captain wants to see you again.”
Jake broke away from the crowd. “Yeah, Cap?”
“The title comes with an office. Pick one out as soon as possible.”
McGuire came around his desk with his briefcase in his hand. He patted Jake on the back, then turned off his office light and left.
How would this promotion affect the dynamics between him and Louie?
What a day. First the news about Spaulding and now he’d been promoted. He couldn’t figure out if he wanted to celebrate or punch someone out.
“This is great, because you’re already coming to dinner. Oh, but weren’t we going to review your files?”
“They can wait until tomorrow night, Louie. We cancel the celebration now, Burke would stone us.”
“Okay, we celebrate and then have dinner with Sophia and the kids. I’ll call her now. Have her make a great dessert.” Louie’s face gleamed.
“Thanks, Louie.”
That night, when he got home, he’d try to get through the files on his own. The words his father had spoken to him on the day of his promotion to detective echoed in his head.
“With command comes great responsibility, son. Treat your officers the way you’d want to be treated.” Then Captain James Carrington pinned the new gold shield onto Jake’s dress uniform. Pride shone in his father’s eyes as he saluted him. Days later his father died of a heart attack.
Jake felt his father had died of a broken heart.
With his father gone, Jake had one close relative this side of the ocean, his mother. The rest resided in Ireland, where his parents were from. She hated his job. He thought better of sharing his news with her.
Though unrelated, his mom felt his sister’s death had resulted from her husband’s job. Not logical. A spoiled kid had ruined their lives. Eva had turned him down. He had taken what he’d wanted anyway, punishing her for rejecting him.
Thoughts of his mother surged into his head and brought on the familiar guilt. Jake promised himself he’d visit her this week. Cripes, he hated walking into the nursing home. The odors assaulted his olfactory senses. He always held his breath until he reached his mother’s room. The crying and begging from the residents as they reached out to him when he walked by tore at his heart. He tried not to rush by them. He hoped to God he never wound up there. In his opinion, a bullet to the head would be better.
His beautiful mother had brownish-red hair, cream-colored flawless skin, high cheekbones, and sad emerald eyes. She had forgotten how to live after Eva died. He got his height from his father, but his coloring from his mother. At five-six Maddie packed quite a punch when her temper flared. It wasn’t something you wanted to be on the receiving end of. Now trapped in the past, his mother lay in bed all day, crying, telling stories about her Eva through her tears. Jake wondered why she hadn’t run out of them.
We lost two people on the day Eva died. My mother blamed me. She blamed my father. She blamed the police, the school—and anyone else who popped into her head. . . Something snapped in her brain on the day Eva died. He didn’t understand if she couldn’t or wouldn’t move forward. A tight family unit, once happy—never the same after that day, he thought. We all loved each other, and were looking forward to the bright future ahead of us. Yes, I’ll visit her tomorrow.
Louie touched his arm, brought him back to the present. “Hey, you in there? Let’s head out now.” Louie grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “Oh, boss…”
“Funny, Louie. What?”
“First round’s on me. I want everyone to know I’m playing up to the new boss. Got it?”
“Oh, Louie—rounds two, plus three and four, are
