with an answer she didn’t have. “I mean, how did you just stop loving me? How did it change overnight? How did...”
“I saw her,” I said, cutting her off.
Her expression froze.
“Every time I looked at you,” I explained, the words coming out of my mouth like they contained jagged edges. “I saw Elizabeth.”
She took that in, started to say something, then stopped. Then she pivoted and walked off in a rush.
I didn’t go after her, just stood there as still as if I was standing in front of the mirror after a shower. I'd told her the truth. It had become too much to look at my wife every day and see my daughter. I held no illusions that that was my problem and no one else’s. But I hadn’t figured out a way to fix it and that was one of the reasons why I had stayed away from Coronado for so many years.
Seeing Lauren at the hospital, at dinner and in the café, I knew that nothing had changed for me.
Every time I looked at her, I saw my daughter who wasn’t there.
TWENTY-SIX
I dressed and went downstairs. I found a deli counter, bought the last bagel they had and drove back to the island so I could push Lauren out of my head and focus on Chuck.
I had purposely avoided looking into Chuck’s assault because I knew that was going to take me to the Coronado Police Department. If my old home was number one on the list of places I did not want to visit, CPD was number one-and-a-half. But if I was truly going to help Chuck, there was no way I could get out of it.
I’d been an officer in Coronado for nine years when Elizabeth had disappeared. It was my dream job. I’d gotten my degree in criminal justice from USD and then gone right into the academy with no intention of working anywhere else. I’d grown up on the island and it was a small enough place that the police officers were actually a part of the community rather than people who passed through it.
It was a tough post to pull because if you wanted to be a cop in San Diego, there was no more idyllic place. The residents were happy to see you, the department was well-funded and you rarely had to deal with more than drunks on the beach. But it was a small department and the open spots were limited and much coveted.
So I worked harder at the academy than I’d ever worked at anything else and graduated at the top of my class. Along the way, I made sure that the CPD brass noticed me. It was the only job I wanted, the only job I interviewed for and the only job I held as a cop.
It just hadn’t ended the way I’d envisioned.
I parked the car across the street from the CPD offices and paused on the sidewalk, taking in the building.
It looked nothing like a police headquarters. Single story, open archways, smothered in towering palm trees. It resembled a rec center more than a government building and blended into the rest of the architecture of the island. I used to love going into that building every morning, ready for the tight camaraderie of a small department.
As I crossed the street and opened the glass door, I knew that I’d still feel the tight camaraderie.
I just wouldn’t be a part of it.
I didn’t recognize the desk sergeant, a guy in his early thirties with close-cut brown hair, squared-off shoulders and a friendly smile. “Morning, sir. How can we help you?”
“Detective Lorenzo in?”
He glanced down at the desk log, then shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, he’s out this morning. But maybe I can help?”
He was pleasant, eager, happy to be of service, the same way I had been trained to treat the island’s citizens. The department wanted the residents to feel comfortable around the police officers and it had been drilled over and over into us that we served the community and our jobs were to help them in any way possible.
I realized I was tapping my foot to a
“I saw her,” I said, cutting her off.
Her expression froze.
“Every time I looked at you,” I explained, the words coming out of my mouth like they contained jagged edges. “I saw Elizabeth.”
She took that in, started to say something, then stopped. Then she pivoted and walked off in a rush.
I didn’t go after her, just stood there as still as if I was standing in front of the mirror after a shower. I'd told her the truth. It had become too much to look at my wife every day and see my daughter. I held no illusions that that was my problem and no one else’s. But I hadn’t figured out a way to fix it and that was one of the reasons why I had stayed away from Coronado for so many years.
Seeing Lauren at the hospital, at dinner and in the café, I knew that nothing had changed for me.
Every time I looked at her, I saw my daughter who wasn’t there.
TWENTY-SIX
I dressed and went downstairs. I found a deli counter, bought the last bagel they had and drove back to the island so I could push Lauren out of my head and focus on Chuck.
I had purposely avoided looking into Chuck’s assault because I knew that was going to take me to the Coronado Police Department. If my old home was number one on the list of places I did not want to visit, CPD was number one-and-a-half. But if I was truly going to help Chuck, there was no way I could get out of it.
I’d been an officer in Coronado for nine years when Elizabeth had disappeared. It was my dream job. I’d gotten my degree in criminal justice from USD and then gone right into the academy with no intention of working anywhere else. I’d grown up on the island and it was a small enough place that the police officers were actually a part of the community rather than people who passed through it.
It was a tough post to pull because if you wanted to be a cop in San Diego, there was no more idyllic place. The residents were happy to see you, the department was well-funded and you rarely had to deal with more than drunks on the beach. But it was a small department and the open spots were limited and much coveted.
So I worked harder at the academy than I’d ever worked at anything else and graduated at the top of my class. Along the way, I made sure that the CPD brass noticed me. It was the only job I wanted, the only job I interviewed for and the only job I held as a cop.
It just hadn’t ended the way I’d envisioned.
I parked the car across the street from the CPD offices and paused on the sidewalk, taking in the building.
It looked nothing like a police headquarters. Single story, open archways, smothered in towering palm trees. It resembled a rec center more than a government building and blended into the rest of the architecture of the island. I used to love going into that building every morning, ready for the tight camaraderie of a small department.
As I crossed the street and opened the glass door, I knew that I’d still feel the tight camaraderie.
I just wouldn’t be a part of it.
I didn’t recognize the desk sergeant, a guy in his early thirties with close-cut brown hair, squared-off shoulders and a friendly smile. “Morning, sir. How can we help you?”
“Detective Lorenzo in?”
He glanced down at the desk log, then shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, he’s out this morning. But maybe I can help?”
He was pleasant, eager, happy to be of service, the same way I had been trained to treat the island’s citizens. The department wanted the residents to feel comfortable around the police officers and it had been drilled over and over into us that we served the community and our jobs were to help them in any way possible.
I realized I was tapping my foot to a
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