A Voice from the Field

A Voice from the Field by Neal Griffin

Book: A Voice from the Field by Neal Griffin Read Free Book Online
Authors: Neal Griffin
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than anyone and you know right now she needs you . Not some damned shrink.”
    â€œI’m the chief of police, Alex. She doesn’t talk to me.”
    â€œThen stop being the chief for a while. Just talk to her.” She squeezed his hand. “You two were friends long before you became chief. If I remember right, you were pretty good friends.”
    â€œGood morning, Alex,” said a new voice. “That smells wonderful. What in the world is it?”
    Ben looked up to see a group of women in the doorway. He watched as Alex switched gears from concerned wife and friend to coffeehouse barista. She stood to greet her customers. “Fresh roasted, ladies. All the way from Indonesia.”
    Ben watched and listened as his wife engaged the group in the finer points of coffee roasting. Before she finished with them, three more customers walked in. Alex looked between her patrons at her husband and it was as though she were whispering in his ear.
    You know what to do, Benny. Be Tia’s friend.
    Ben stood from the table and mouthed, See you tonight . Alex smiled and waved. He left the coffeehouse, heading back to Newberg City Hall. He wished things with Tia were really that simple. Their friendship was one of the cornerstones of his life. But lately his relationship with Tia had faded, becoming a pleasant but disconnected part of his past. Like the scent of the fresh-roasted coffee, with every step he took the memories that he and Tia shared seemed to slip away on the breeze.

 
    ELEVEN
    Tia hustled along the sidewalk leading to the upscale office building, which was tucked back on a grassy hill of white-barked birch trees. She bolted the stairs two at a time to the second floor, then quickstepped down the open-air breezeway, mentally ticking off the familiar nameplates as she rushed by each door. Three CPAs. Two law offices. A dentist, a podiatrist, and finally her destination. Tia stopped and took a deep breath. She took one last look back toward the greenbelt landscape, dotted with parking lots and sidewalks that were empty of people. She opened the door and slipped into the small waiting room that had been designed for a single occupant.
    She assumed that the muted tones of the room, the bubbling fish tank built into the wall, and the quiet jazz music were intended to be soothing, but she always found herself on edge in this space. Large tropical fish stared at her, their expressions seeming to say, What, you again? There was only one chair in the room, a fabulous leather recliner-and-a-half that Tia figured put the good doctor back a couple of grand. She perched on the arm, knowing she wouldn’t be there long. One thing about Doctor Elliot Gage, he was always on time. Expected patients to be, too. No sooner had the exterior door closed than the door leading to the inner office swung open. The shrink glided in.
    â€œTia.” It was amazing, how much judgmental crap he could communicate with a single word.
    Dr. Elliot Gage was the contract psychiatrist for a dozen law enforcement agencies throughout the region. When cops got involved in a shooting or other critical life-and-death event, they had to take a mandatory three days of administrative leave. Gage was the one who evaluated the officers and signed off on their clean bill of health, allowing a return to regular duty. A post-crisis psych eval was an industry formality that for cops amounted to a game of hide the ball. Avoid discussing anything too personal. Reveal nothing. Give the right answers—that is, the answers the shrink wanted to hear.
    â€œHey, Doc.” Tia did her best to appear nonchalant but suspected Gage wouldn’t be fooled again. Tia knew Gage looked at her with equal parts of resentment and intrigue. He’d sent her back to work, months ago, only to have her suffer a major, on-duty relapse. He’d blown the call. That had to have him fuming, but Tia knew her case was too interesting to ignore or write off.

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