The Grim Reaper Reaper Security ConsultingChapter 17 Miles Madigan
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The Grim Reaper: Reaper Security ConsultingChapter 36: School Days free porn video
I went into the station the next morning at 0730. I figured I would go in early and see the shift changes and roll calls for a bit to get a feel for things from the bottom up. After roll call, I headed back to my office, only to get stopped by Mindy Hollis. She dragged me back outside to the department parking lot and over to the corner it shared with the impound yard.
“This is where we should build a storage annex,” she said.
“Why here? In this corner?”
“It’s the best choice. It’s inside the secure perimeter and it’s also at the high spot in the parking lot. In case Pendler’s Creek were to flood, this would be the last place to flood.”
“Yeah, but we don’t want any storage to ever flood,” I countered.
“I looked at the building plans for the station. This location is at the same height as the station. It won’t flood unless the station floods, and that’s never happened. We’re too high.”
“Huh. You found the prints for the station?” This lady was detail oriented!
“You’d be amazed at the stuff we keep around here. Anyway, depending on how much of the impound yard you want to chew up, we could build a big annex. We could even build it with a door on both ends, so that we could bring things directly in from the impound yard.”
I scratched my head at that. “Not sure we want to do that, but it’s an idea.” I nodded towards the station and turned in that direction. “It’s as good a place as any, but this is something the council is going to have to weigh in on. I’ve got some latitude on emergency funds, but not enough to cover a new warehouse. We’re going to need, what, an RFP?”
She nodded. An RFP was a Request For Proposal, a start to the bidding process to build a new structure. “An RFP would be the start. We’ll need an architect to draw something up. I don’t know if we’ll need a second RFP for the annex itself.”
I had a sudden idea. “Call my father. Ask him. He used to be the Chief Engineer for the county. He just retired but he still has his license. He’ll at least know the procedure.”
“Probably a conflict of interest if he’s your father,” she said.
I shrugged. “Not if we don’t pay him. I’ll call him and ask about the procedure. At least he’ll know who we have to talk to for real.”
“Okay.” She smiled and said, “The sooner we can do that, the sooner we get the conference room back.”
“And start figuring out how we’re going to clean up the station.”
“Already done. We have a budget for emergency maintenance and repairs. We just call it an emergency and then hope we don’t have a real emergency afterwards.”
I rolled my eyes. “I hope the cells at Reidsville are coed.” We went back inside, and I sent Mindy back to work.
Meanwhile I went to the armory to sign out a vest. From there I went to the main desk. Crenshaw was standing there, and I asked, “Who do we have available? I want to do a ride-along, see a few things from inside a cruiser for a bit.”
The watch commander shrugged and nodded. “Carruthers just rolled back in. He’ll be free in a few minutes.”
“Works for me. Call me when he’s available. Thanks.” I headed back to my office. My suit coat I hung in my closet, then I pulled on the vest and secured it. Finally, I pulled on my old MPD windbreaker. That was when my phone rang, and Crenshaw told me that Willy Carruthers was waiting for me in the parking lot. I thanked him and hustled back down the stairs.
“Morning, Chief,” he said as I climbed into the passenger seat.
“Morning, Willy. What has you in the parking lot at 0930?”
“Just got back from a prisoner run over to the county jail.” I looked at him curiously and he added, “A couple of drunk-and-disorderlies getting off a bender. On the plus side, they didn’t puke in the back seat. On the downside, they already puked on each other.”
I snorted. “It’s the sheriff’s problem now.”
“Roger that, sir. Where to?”
“Just do your regular patrol. I just want to get a feel for things again. It probably won’t be all day. I need to make some calls this afternoon.”
He nodded and headed out on patrol. Dispatch ordered us towards East Matucket, and we ran radar for a few minutes, catching a speeder on Kensington about fifteen minutes later. Willy kept an eye on me as we got out of the patrol cruiser and I assumed the proper backup position on the right rear quarter, able to cover him while keeping him out of the line of fire if I had to respond. Afterwards, we drove off to a different location.
“So, Chief, I read your Wikipedia page last night. I’ve never actually met anybody who has a Wikipedia page before,” he said. I just nodded and kept an eye on the road. It was surprisingly easy to pick up the old habits of watchful wariness. “You really won the Medal of Honor?”
“Nobody wins medals, Willy. They are awarded.”
“You know what I mean, sir. What was it like? Over there, I mean.”
I didn’t answer for a moment, and then replied, “Imagine your worst nightmare, you know the kind where you wake up screaming, drenched in sweat, puking your guts out and shitting your pants, only ten times worse. And then imagine going through that every time somebody asks you about it.”
“Uhmm ... uh ... yes, sir,” he said. I could hear an audible gulp.
“I don’t talk about it, Willy. Very few of us do. It was just something we had to do. Almost all of us end up with problems afterwards. Talking doesn’t necessarily help.”
“Problems? Like PTSD?”
“It doesn’t affect my job, Senior Patrolman. It’s under control, has been for years, but yeah, it’s there,” I responded.
“Huh.” We drove around silently for a few minutes and Willy said, “I was talking to Madison last night.” I looked at him and he continued, “Madison, that’s my wife. I met her in Macon when I was on the Bibb County Sheriffs. We had a little girl in Columbus.” I nodded in understanding. I was curious where he was going with this. He said, “So, last night, well, she did one of those pregnancy tests, you know, where she had to pee on the stick. Well, guess what?”
I snorted out a laugh. “Congratulations, Willy. Or condolences. Your pick. I assume it’s too soon to tell if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Thanks, Chief, I think. No, it’s too soon. We won’t know for a few more months.”
“Well, make sure to let Crenshaw know you’re up for some overtime. Unless babies have changed radically in the last few years, you’re going to need some money.”
“Thanks, Chief, I wasn’t aware of that,” he replied drily. “Overtime? We can get overtime? Chief Babcock banned all overtime.”
“Overtime is available. I told you I was making some changes. The budget’s been increased. We’re going to fix up the station, increase training, hire some new officers, all that stuff.”
“Huh.” A moment later he said, “I was talking to Madison last night. She’s not interested in moving again. She wants to stay in Matucket. I didn’t say anything to her about what you said yesterday, but she wants to stay here. We just bought a small place over in West Springs.”
“It’s called nesting, Willy. Women want a place to nest. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.”
‘Yeah, well, that means I don’t want to move either.”
“Then you’re planning to make the changes necessary?”
Willy didn’t look at me, but his jaw clenched for a moment. Then he sighed and nodded. He still didn’t look at me but said, “Yes, sir.”
“Okay, that’s something we can work on.”
Before we could discuss the subject further, the radio rang out. “Dispatch to all supervisors. Supervisor is required at Kennedy Elementary.”
I looked at Willy and raised an eyebrow. We were only a hundred yards away from John F. Kennedy Elementary and he looked back at me. I grabbed the mike off the dashboard and said, “One-Six-Three to Dispatch, I’m on Cherokee near Kennedy. I’ll respond.”
“Dispatch to One-Six-Three, say identification?” That was shorthand for ‘ Who the hell is One-Six-Three?’
“One-Six-Three to Dispatch, this is Chief Reaper, Robert-Edward-Adam-Paul-Edward-Robert.”
“Sorry, Chief.”
“One-Six-Three to Dispatch. On scene in one minute with...” I looked over at Willy.
“Four-Eight-Seven.”
“ ... Four-Eight-Seven in...”
“Paul Three-Seven,” said Willy.
“ ... Paul Three-Seven. Say nature of complaint.”
“Not sure, One-Six-Three. Two-Two-Nine is on scene.”
“One-Six-Three to Dispatch, we’ll be there in one minute.”
“Dispatch to One-Six-Three, show you in command at Kennedy Elementary. Out.”
I looked over at Willy. We had driven a couple hundred yards past the school during the radio call. I hooked a thumb back behind us and said, “Turn it around. Who’s Two-Two-Nine?”
Willy did a quick three-point turn and we turned around. “Not a hundred percent sure, but I think it’s Gina Bossonte.”
We pulled up to the front of the school and parked behind another cruiser. We went inside and headed towards the office. My own children had gone to JFK, so I knew the direction. Inside we found a police officer in her early thirties sitting on a couch with two young children. She gave me a worried smile and stood up. The children looked up at us and smiled. They both said, “Hi!” at the same time.
“Hi! Who are you?”
“My name’s Holly,” said a little blonde girl with curly hair.
“I’m Jimmy,” said a little boy who looked to be biracial.
“Nice to meet you.” I stepped back and Officer Bossonte followed me. I kept my voice low and asked, “What’s going on?”
“I got sent over here to respond to a sexual assault and an assault and battery. When I got here, the principal ordered me to arrest these two and take them away!”
I stared at Gina for a bit and then looked over at Willy, who seemed as amazed as I was. I looked over at the two children sitting on the couch and talking to each other. “You’re kidding me, right? Who assaulted whom?”
“This is nuts, Gina!” said Willy.
“Are you a juvenile officer, Officer Bossonte?” I asked. Juvenile arrests required officers specifically trained to deal with underage offenders.
“No, sir, they disbanded the special squad. I’m Patrol. Sir, I’m not arresting six-year-olds. I mean, you can fire me, but I’m not arresting six-year-olds!”
“Trust me, that won’t be an issue. You go arresting six-year-olds, you won’t have to quit, I’ll fire you!” I looked at both her and Willy. “Pass the word, arresting six-year-olds looks bad on the six o’clock news.” I looked at the kids. “Did somebody call their parents?”
Gina nodded towards the secretary who was watching all this. She came around her desk and came over. “I called them, sir. Their moms should be here in a few minutes.”
“Well, we’ll wait until then.”
I sat down with the two children but almost immediately stood back up when a worried looking woman came rushing in. “Jimmy!”
The little boy smiled and said, “Hi, Mommy! We’re being arrested!”
The little girl said, “Hi, Mrs. Maynard! This is so cool!”
Mrs. Maynard whirled on us and demanded to know what was going on. Before I could answer, another young woman came hustling in. She looked a lot like a grown-up version of her daughter. “Holly! What happened?” She rounded on us and demanded what was going on.
I held up my hands to ward them off. “Ladies, ladies, calm down. Nobody’s being arrested. We just got here, too. I’m the Chief of Police. I don’t know anything more than you do.” I looked over at the secretary and said, “We can see Mrs. Houston now.”
She shook her head. “Mrs. Houston is out on maternity leave. Vice Principal Rawlings is in charge.” She went down the hallway and knocked on his door.
I was wondering what caused this mess. Mrs. Houston had been principal at JFK for several years and was very popular with both the students and their parents and could certainly have sorted out whatever was going on. Rawlings, I didn’t know.
I quickly figured out that Rawlings was a little tinpot dictator in the making. The secretary came down and said he was making a few minutes for us and ushered us into his office. We immediately sat down in the armchairs and the couch, while Bossonte and Carruthers stayed standing. “I’m Acting Principal Rawlings. How can I help you?”
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