29-03-2025, 03:08 PM
"What do you mean, deal with it?"
"You've been through a lot, Patrick. Tristan and Miriam? The murders? Trooper Rockney? You killing that driver and Brian and Billy killing the other one? And now the possibility this other kid might have it out for you? Yes, Patrick. You need to figure out a way to deal with all of this. I'm giving you the weekend to think it over."
"What do you mean, giving me the weekend to think it over?"
"Bridget asked me for a weekend together at my parents. I'm going to explain to her how much you love her and that you would do whatever it takes to protect her. Same with the boys. I'm not leaving forever. I'm just giving you a weekend to think about things and have some space to do that."
"You think running away for the weekend is what I need? Look, sweetheart, I'm willing to talk. I'll do whatever it takes, I swear!"
"I already promised her, Patrick. Go horseback riding with Blackjack. Spend some time with your friends. Do whatever it takes. And when I get home Sunday night, we'll talk some more. But you are going to deal with this, Patrick! We can't go forward if you don't!"
I couldn't handle hearing any more. All I could do was just sit there at the table, hands over my mouth and trying to keep myself from imploding. Barely three weeks in and my marriage was already falling apart.
Shannon simply stood, tears in her eyes, and picked up her overnight bag. She walked over to me, knelt down and kissed me on the cheek. "I love you. Come back to us, Patrick," she whispered. And then she left.
It felt like a bomb had exploded in my own home and I suddenly felt more alone than I ever had at any point in my life. What the hell was I thinking by not telling her about the Hammadi kid? What did I think I was protecting them from? I was so blinded in my anger over Tristan and Miriam that I had been determined to bring whomever or whatever to justice. But I had to realize that I didn't have the power in this situation. Until I knew the who, the what, the when, the where and the why, I was simply flying blind. And instead of protecting my family, I had actually put them in danger. Grave danger. I knew if anything happened to any of them that I'd never be able to forgive myself...or even live with myself.
*****
Trying to sleep in a big, empty farmhouse by yourself can be intimidating. Knowing that my entire family was angry with me did nothing more than make me feel completely isolated. Knowing it was my fault made me feel like a steaming pile of cow shit.
I lay in my bed and reached over to the empty spot where Shannon should have been laying and ran my hand over the smooth, cool covers. God, how my heart ached right now as I missed her! How could I have been so stupid, callous, cruel and ignorant? My marriage had gotten off to an incredibly bad start and I resolved at that moment to do whatever was necessary to fix it and to correct our course.
The pain and misery I was feeling threatened to consume me. It was almost too much to take and, if I thought there was a chance Shannon and the kids wouldn't come back to me, I'm not sure I could have stopped myself from taking a bite off the end of a shotgun right then and there.
But just as I was feeling sorry for myself, something caught my attention. I sat straight up in bed and tried to hone my hearing to pick it up again. There! There it was again! Blackjack! Even though he was a gelding he was out in his pasture whinnying and knickering like a stallion who just stumbled upon a herd of virgin mares. Was it coyotes? Foxes? Raccoons? I had no idea but something definitely had him spooked.
I walked across the hall to Nick's room to give me a good look out into the front lawn, driveway and the horse pasture. The only light came from the light on the utility pole in the driveway. My eyes strained in the darkness to try and make out whatever it was that had gotten Blackjack's dander up so bad. I was about to go back to my room and get my slippers to go outside and check it out first hand. But just then, something to the right and close to the road caught my attention.
Movement! Sure as shit! Someone was out there! I sprinted back to my room, trying to make as little noise as possible. Thankfully, all the lights in the house were out and I was meticulous about making sure all of the doors were locked and deadbolted shut, along with all the window latches. Everything was alarmed, which sent a signal straight to Brink's Home Security. All I had to do was push a button on one of the two control pads to send a silent alarm to the dispatch center and I knew that every deputy on duty in the county would come screaming out to the farm.
I reached under the bed and grabbed the small gun safe and quickly punched in the combination, barely able to remember it because of my panic and excitement. But I got it open, grabbed my backup Beretta 9mm and quickly slapped in a magazine while tucking two extra mags in the pocket of the sweat shorts I was wearing. The Beretta was an old firearm that I kept upstairs for the simple fact I owned it. And, while not my first choice of a weapon, it was fairly reliable and shot well. It was the first firearm I owned when I got hired by Red River PD years ago. Back then, we got an advance from the payroll department and had to buy our own service firearms.
I quietly crept down the stairs and could see out the front window from both the dining room and the living room. I paused on the steps and scanned through both before seeing a shadow figure over by the fence line of the horse pasture. Clearly, whoever it was tried desperately to stay in the shadows and away from the glow of the yard light. Sure enough, the shadow was trying to make its way toward the house without being seen. I ducked back through the kitchen and into the mudroom. I looked out the windows and scanned as much of the back yard as I possibly could.
I slowly opened and held onto it as it closed to make as little noise as possible. I crouch-walked along the back side of the house, bringing the weapon in front of me tactically but keeping my finger off the trigger. I peered around the corner to the south side, which is where the trespasser initially appeared to be headed.
Damn! Nothing there. I continued to silently creep along until I got to the southeast corner. Again, I could see nothing along the fence line where the horses were. I peered around the corner just in time to see the shadow disappear around the northeast corner. Shit! I did an about-face and crept quickly towards the rear of the house again.
I continued walking straight into the back yard, keeping my weapon pointed toward the north of the property, just in case whoever it was decided to make a bum rush towards me. I circled towards the north again in a wide arc, keeping in the shadows as I was dressed in a white t-shirt and gray shorts. As I got far enough north to see past the northwest corner of the house, I could see the bastard peering into the windows of the detached garage, probably trying to determine if anyone was home or not. I could see both of his hands as he looked in the garage and could tell he didn't have a weapon.
"FREEZE, ASSHOLE!" I yelled.
The person stopped, briefly glanced at me and broke into a dead spring down the driveway and towards Rattlesnake Road. Jesus, the little bastard was fast! He had some type of balaclava or scarf around his face and I couldn't get a look. I gave chase the best I could, knowing full well that I couldn't legally shoot his ass while he ran. And, despite my best effort, I wasn't gonna win the chase. All I could hope for was to at least get a closer look at the runner and whatever getaway car I knew had to be out there.
But try as I might, the runner was too fast and got to the car well ahead of me. I couldn't get a definitive look at the vehicle as it roared to life and kicked up a shit load of gravel as it took off down the road and headed towards Highway 120.
"FUCK!" I yelled into the darkness, as I finally made it to the road. By that time, the car was all the way back to Highway 120. As I watched the car turn onto the highway, another set of headlights and blue and red flashing strobes turned onto Rattlesnake Road and sped towards my direction. The distinctive Ford Taurus Interceptor screeched to a halt and 17-23, Deputy Reggie Cobb jumped out of the vehicle. I ran up to him.
"Did you see him?" I demanded.
"See who, Sheriff?"
"The driver! Did you get a look at the driver? Can you tell me what kind of car it was?"
"Uh, no, Sheriff. I didn't. I was hell bent on getting here to see you! Dispatch radioed me and said there was an alarm at your place. I hauled ass to get here as fast as I could, Pat!"
I turned away and bent over, trying to catch my breath.
"No, no, no, Reggie. It's not your fault," I said. "You did alright. I just had some intruder sneaking around my place."
"I take it you didn't get a look at him either, Sheriff," Reggie said.
"No, no I didn't. Use your phone, Reggie, and have dispatch call Lieutenant Hayes and have him come out here and see if he can find any hints of tire tracks. Maybe we can get lucky yet."
"Sure thing, Pat," Reggie said, hustling back to his cruiser.
It was an hour before Chris got out there and Reggie stayed with me the entire time, despite the fact that I carried a loaded 9mm. But with all the gravel the sedan kicked up, along with all the dry and dusty conditions lately, there was little he could do other than take pictures. Chris was very quiet and contrite, probably knowing that Shannon had left for the weekend and knowing that Tonya had spilled the beans about the Hammadi kid.
Before he left, I gave Chris a pat on the back and said, "Thanks for coming over, Chris. Give Tonya a hug for me, will ya?"
Chris just smiled and said, "Sure thing, Pat."
As soon as I got back in the house, I made a quick call to Jack Sullivan, my father-in-law and demanded that he not let Shannon and Bridget out of their sight until I said otherwise. Apparently, he, Shannon and Suzanne were all still awake and Shannon demanded to know what was wrong. What the hell, I figured. She was already pissed at me for withholding information. What was a little more gonna hurt? But I made Jack Sullivan swear on the lives of his wife, daughter and grandchildren that he wouldn't let Shannon and Bridget leave until further notice.
And if there is one thing I ever needed to know about Jack Sullivan, he was a man of his word. He swore to me he wouldn't let them out of his sight and would personally drop Shannon off at work and Bridget off at college and pick both of them up at the end of the day, depending on how long they needed to stay there.
*****
I knew I wouldn't get anywhere over the weekend, but the minute I got into the office on Monday morning, I decided to raise holy hell with the FBI. It took constant calling and recalling before I got through to Special Agent Bryce Cooper who finally acquiesced and said that he would make a trip to Red River Falls and finally look into everything that had been going on. He even offered to bring along a digital electronics expert to look into the phone situation and try and figure out, once and for all, who the hell was behind all of this.
After I hung up with Special Agent ass clown, I collapsed back in my chair. Before I could even take a deep breath and relax a little bit, Karen Landingham buzzed in and said I had a phone call. I debated on whether to take the call but finally decided to do so and punched the speaker button.
"This is Sheriff Quinn. How can I help you?"
"Sheriff? This is Melissa Roberts," the voice replied, obviously heavy with emotion and tears. My heart sank as I knew immediately what the phone call was about.
"Melissa, it's nice to hear from you. But I'm gonna guess by the tone of your voice this isn't going to be a happy phone call," I said, sympathetically.
"No, Sheriff," she said, her voice breaking. "Mom passed away this morning around 7:30."
"Aw, Melissa," I said, with a lump in my own throat. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Was she at home?"
"No, she wasn't. She's been in hospice for the last ten days," she explained.
"Really? God, I didn't even know. I'm so sorry for that."
"Don't be, Sheriff. Mom specifically said she didn't want you to know as you had just gotten married. She wanted you and your wife to enjoy being newlyweds and not be sad over her. She was so thrilled to be at your wedding with Dad and talked about it over and over." I couldn't even look at the phone as she said that. If she only knew...
"Even then, she was thinking of others," I said in wonderment.
"That's what she did, Sheriff. She always put everybody else ahead of herself," she said, openly sobbing. Wow. Again, if only she knew. How I despised Bud Roberts! At least Margolene was finally free of him.
"Will you please let me know when the arrangements are finalized?"
"They pretty much are, Sheriff. The visitation will be Thursday night from 4 pm to 7 pm and the funeral will be Friday morning at 10:30 at St. Thomas Episcopal Church."
"I'll definitely let the department know that. And I'll have Lieutenant Amy Van Deekum get in touch with the funeral home. She is in charge of our Honor Guard team. We'd like to have them stand guard at your mother's side as a sign of our unwavering respect for your mother."
"Oh, Sheriff," Melissa said, breaking down completely. "That means so much to us! Thank you!"
"It's our pleasure, Melissa. And, please. You're a part of our family at MCSD. Please call me Patrick from now on. And tell your sister and brothers the same thing."
"Thank you, Patrick. I hope to see you soon."
"You will. Give my best to your family," I said, purposefully not mentioning Bud.
"I will. Goodbye, Patrick."
"Goodbye, hun."
I clicked the disconnect button and just stared at the phone. I knew Shannon was at work since Jack had texted me shortly after dropping her and Bridget off this morning. I punched in the number to her office and she picked up on the second ring.
"Critical Care. Shannon Sullivan speaking," she answered. I was shocked and felt like somebody had hit me in the stomach. When we got engaged, she made a big production of the fact that she intended to go traditional, as she put it, and proudly take my last name as her own.
"Shannon Sullivan, huh?" I said, sarcastically. "I guess I have the wrong number. I was looking for Shannon Quinn."
She gasped. "Patrick? I...I'm...I meant...just...I don't know...force of habit, I guess."
"Force of habit," I said. "Right."
"Patrick, don't be like that. We've only been-"
"Margolene Roberts died this morning," I interrupted. "I know you didn't know her as well as I did but I could tell the two of you liked each other and I thought you would want to know."
"Oh, Patrick, I'm so sorry."
"Why are you sorry for me?"
"I know how much you liked and admired her, Patrick."
"Yes," I said, reflectively. "I did like her. And she deserved better than what she had. Anyway, I wanted to let you know. Visitation is Thursday night and the funeral is Friday morning at 10:30."
"Thank you for calling me, Patrick. What time are you going on Thursday night?"
"I don't know for sure."
"Call me, please? I'd like to be there."
"You don't need my permission to go, Shannon."
"That's not what I meant, Patrick, and you know it! Why are you being this way? What is happening to us, Patrick?"
"I don't know. Anyway, Miss Sullivan, I need to get back to work."
"Dammit, Patrick! That's not funny!"
"I know it's not, Shannon. And if you could feel the lump in my throat right now, you'd know that first hand."
"I said I was sorry!"
"No, you said it was force of habit."
"Patrick - "
"I gotta go, Shannon. I'll talk to you soon."
*****
I had to go outside to cool off and decided to take a drive to clear my head. The truth is, I probably knew deep down inside that Shannon's answering the phone was probably just a slip of the tongue. But there was a rage that had been building inside of me for a long time and I didn't realize it at the time. Every new incident, crisis, slight, insult or trauma was building on top of each other. Combine that with the fact that we still hadn't found whoever it was that was calling and texting me and who had most likely paid a late-night visit to my house.
The only good thing was that Shannon began trying to reach out to me via text message.
I'M SORRY. IT WAS AN HONEST MISTAKE, I SWEAR! PLEASE DON'T SHUT ME OUT. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
Later on in the day.
PLEASE, PATRICK! I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW HOW YOU WERE SLIPPING AWAY FROM US! I DIDN'T MEAN THIS TO BE A SEPARATION! PLEASE LET US COME HOME!
I couldn't ignore that one and knew that I needed to respond.
THE SITUATION IS MORE DANGEROUS THAN I THOUGHT. NEED YOU AND BRIDGET TO STAY AT YOUR PARENTS. THE BOYS WILL BE STAYING WITH CLARISSA.
She obviously didn't believe me.
PLEASE, PATRICK! I LOVE YOU! I DON'T WANT TO BE AWAY FROM YOU ANY MORE! WE NEED TO FIX THIS AND GET OUR MARRIAGE BACK ON THE RIGHT FOOT!
I had to tell her.
WE WILL, I PROMISE. BUT IT ISN'T SAFE. THERE WAS AN INTRUDER AT THE HOUSE THE NIGHT YOU LEFT. I CHASED HIM OFF BUT COULDN'T CATCH HIM. I HAVE ALL MY DEPUTIES AND ALL RED RIVER PD LOOKING FOR HIM. YOU ARE ALL SAFER THE FURTHER AWAY FROM ME YOU ARE.
She replied,
OH, MY GOD! PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE BEING SAFE! AT LEAST LET ME GO TO MARGOLENE'S VISITATION AND FUNERAL WITH YOU! I NEED TO SEE YOU! I NEED TO SEE MY HUSBAND!
It pained me to read her response. I missed her so much but I couldn't seem to shake the anger.
WE'LL SEE. I'LL TALK TO YOU SOON.
She replied,
I LOVE YOU, PATRICK! PLEASE BE SAFE!
SIGNED, MRS. SEAN PATRICK QUINN!!
She was definitely trying to get her point across. I smiled at the last text and wondered how long it would be before I got a chance to see my beautiful wife again. And I also wondered whether I could put the brakes on whatever was causing me to keeping shooting holes in my marriage.
*****
The break came the next day when I got a call from the Red River PD. I jumped in my truck and sped towards the PD headquarters, which was located in an aging and crumbling building that was actually a nearly 100-year old former National Guard armory. The joint municipal and county referendum that had recently been passed would help alleviate that. In addition to a new sheriff's office and 80-bed state-of-the-art county jail, the massive public project would also incorporate numerous other city, county and civic organizations. Among them would be a new National Guard armory, new security officer headquarters, a new fire station, a beautiful new YMCA and a host of other city and county offices.
Additionally, the development and redevelopment projects surrounding the new multi-purpose facility would also amount to over $30 million in construction projects.
I walked into the cramped and aging building and was escorted directly to Chief Roy Banks's office and was met by him and his captain, Pete Sturgeon.
"Pat, thanks for coming down," Chief Banks said, offering his hand.
"Thanks for calling," I said, shaking it. "What's going on that's so important you didn't want to discuss it over the phone?"
"Pat, Captain Sturgeon has some information that he thought you might find useful."
"Okay," I said. "I'm all ears."
"Pat, one of my officers, Sergeant Tyson Peterson has taken a particular interest in your situation and he's made some interesting observations. Tyson's been keeping a particularly close watch on the Hammadi's house. Somebody has been coming and going from the residence and usually late at night."
"You've been through a lot, Patrick. Tristan and Miriam? The murders? Trooper Rockney? You killing that driver and Brian and Billy killing the other one? And now the possibility this other kid might have it out for you? Yes, Patrick. You need to figure out a way to deal with all of this. I'm giving you the weekend to think it over."
"What do you mean, giving me the weekend to think it over?"
"Bridget asked me for a weekend together at my parents. I'm going to explain to her how much you love her and that you would do whatever it takes to protect her. Same with the boys. I'm not leaving forever. I'm just giving you a weekend to think about things and have some space to do that."
"You think running away for the weekend is what I need? Look, sweetheart, I'm willing to talk. I'll do whatever it takes, I swear!"
"I already promised her, Patrick. Go horseback riding with Blackjack. Spend some time with your friends. Do whatever it takes. And when I get home Sunday night, we'll talk some more. But you are going to deal with this, Patrick! We can't go forward if you don't!"
I couldn't handle hearing any more. All I could do was just sit there at the table, hands over my mouth and trying to keep myself from imploding. Barely three weeks in and my marriage was already falling apart.
Shannon simply stood, tears in her eyes, and picked up her overnight bag. She walked over to me, knelt down and kissed me on the cheek. "I love you. Come back to us, Patrick," she whispered. And then she left.
It felt like a bomb had exploded in my own home and I suddenly felt more alone than I ever had at any point in my life. What the hell was I thinking by not telling her about the Hammadi kid? What did I think I was protecting them from? I was so blinded in my anger over Tristan and Miriam that I had been determined to bring whomever or whatever to justice. But I had to realize that I didn't have the power in this situation. Until I knew the who, the what, the when, the where and the why, I was simply flying blind. And instead of protecting my family, I had actually put them in danger. Grave danger. I knew if anything happened to any of them that I'd never be able to forgive myself...or even live with myself.
*****
Trying to sleep in a big, empty farmhouse by yourself can be intimidating. Knowing that my entire family was angry with me did nothing more than make me feel completely isolated. Knowing it was my fault made me feel like a steaming pile of cow shit.
I lay in my bed and reached over to the empty spot where Shannon should have been laying and ran my hand over the smooth, cool covers. God, how my heart ached right now as I missed her! How could I have been so stupid, callous, cruel and ignorant? My marriage had gotten off to an incredibly bad start and I resolved at that moment to do whatever was necessary to fix it and to correct our course.
The pain and misery I was feeling threatened to consume me. It was almost too much to take and, if I thought there was a chance Shannon and the kids wouldn't come back to me, I'm not sure I could have stopped myself from taking a bite off the end of a shotgun right then and there.
But just as I was feeling sorry for myself, something caught my attention. I sat straight up in bed and tried to hone my hearing to pick it up again. There! There it was again! Blackjack! Even though he was a gelding he was out in his pasture whinnying and knickering like a stallion who just stumbled upon a herd of virgin mares. Was it coyotes? Foxes? Raccoons? I had no idea but something definitely had him spooked.
I walked across the hall to Nick's room to give me a good look out into the front lawn, driveway and the horse pasture. The only light came from the light on the utility pole in the driveway. My eyes strained in the darkness to try and make out whatever it was that had gotten Blackjack's dander up so bad. I was about to go back to my room and get my slippers to go outside and check it out first hand. But just then, something to the right and close to the road caught my attention.
Movement! Sure as shit! Someone was out there! I sprinted back to my room, trying to make as little noise as possible. Thankfully, all the lights in the house were out and I was meticulous about making sure all of the doors were locked and deadbolted shut, along with all the window latches. Everything was alarmed, which sent a signal straight to Brink's Home Security. All I had to do was push a button on one of the two control pads to send a silent alarm to the dispatch center and I knew that every deputy on duty in the county would come screaming out to the farm.
I reached under the bed and grabbed the small gun safe and quickly punched in the combination, barely able to remember it because of my panic and excitement. But I got it open, grabbed my backup Beretta 9mm and quickly slapped in a magazine while tucking two extra mags in the pocket of the sweat shorts I was wearing. The Beretta was an old firearm that I kept upstairs for the simple fact I owned it. And, while not my first choice of a weapon, it was fairly reliable and shot well. It was the first firearm I owned when I got hired by Red River PD years ago. Back then, we got an advance from the payroll department and had to buy our own service firearms.
I quietly crept down the stairs and could see out the front window from both the dining room and the living room. I paused on the steps and scanned through both before seeing a shadow figure over by the fence line of the horse pasture. Clearly, whoever it was tried desperately to stay in the shadows and away from the glow of the yard light. Sure enough, the shadow was trying to make its way toward the house without being seen. I ducked back through the kitchen and into the mudroom. I looked out the windows and scanned as much of the back yard as I possibly could.
I slowly opened and held onto it as it closed to make as little noise as possible. I crouch-walked along the back side of the house, bringing the weapon in front of me tactically but keeping my finger off the trigger. I peered around the corner to the south side, which is where the trespasser initially appeared to be headed.
Damn! Nothing there. I continued to silently creep along until I got to the southeast corner. Again, I could see nothing along the fence line where the horses were. I peered around the corner just in time to see the shadow disappear around the northeast corner. Shit! I did an about-face and crept quickly towards the rear of the house again.
I continued walking straight into the back yard, keeping my weapon pointed toward the north of the property, just in case whoever it was decided to make a bum rush towards me. I circled towards the north again in a wide arc, keeping in the shadows as I was dressed in a white t-shirt and gray shorts. As I got far enough north to see past the northwest corner of the house, I could see the bastard peering into the windows of the detached garage, probably trying to determine if anyone was home or not. I could see both of his hands as he looked in the garage and could tell he didn't have a weapon.
"FREEZE, ASSHOLE!" I yelled.
The person stopped, briefly glanced at me and broke into a dead spring down the driveway and towards Rattlesnake Road. Jesus, the little bastard was fast! He had some type of balaclava or scarf around his face and I couldn't get a look. I gave chase the best I could, knowing full well that I couldn't legally shoot his ass while he ran. And, despite my best effort, I wasn't gonna win the chase. All I could hope for was to at least get a closer look at the runner and whatever getaway car I knew had to be out there.
But try as I might, the runner was too fast and got to the car well ahead of me. I couldn't get a definitive look at the vehicle as it roared to life and kicked up a shit load of gravel as it took off down the road and headed towards Highway 120.
"FUCK!" I yelled into the darkness, as I finally made it to the road. By that time, the car was all the way back to Highway 120. As I watched the car turn onto the highway, another set of headlights and blue and red flashing strobes turned onto Rattlesnake Road and sped towards my direction. The distinctive Ford Taurus Interceptor screeched to a halt and 17-23, Deputy Reggie Cobb jumped out of the vehicle. I ran up to him.
"Did you see him?" I demanded.
"See who, Sheriff?"
"The driver! Did you get a look at the driver? Can you tell me what kind of car it was?"
"Uh, no, Sheriff. I didn't. I was hell bent on getting here to see you! Dispatch radioed me and said there was an alarm at your place. I hauled ass to get here as fast as I could, Pat!"
I turned away and bent over, trying to catch my breath.
"No, no, no, Reggie. It's not your fault," I said. "You did alright. I just had some intruder sneaking around my place."
"I take it you didn't get a look at him either, Sheriff," Reggie said.
"No, no I didn't. Use your phone, Reggie, and have dispatch call Lieutenant Hayes and have him come out here and see if he can find any hints of tire tracks. Maybe we can get lucky yet."
"Sure thing, Pat," Reggie said, hustling back to his cruiser.
It was an hour before Chris got out there and Reggie stayed with me the entire time, despite the fact that I carried a loaded 9mm. But with all the gravel the sedan kicked up, along with all the dry and dusty conditions lately, there was little he could do other than take pictures. Chris was very quiet and contrite, probably knowing that Shannon had left for the weekend and knowing that Tonya had spilled the beans about the Hammadi kid.
Before he left, I gave Chris a pat on the back and said, "Thanks for coming over, Chris. Give Tonya a hug for me, will ya?"
Chris just smiled and said, "Sure thing, Pat."
As soon as I got back in the house, I made a quick call to Jack Sullivan, my father-in-law and demanded that he not let Shannon and Bridget out of their sight until I said otherwise. Apparently, he, Shannon and Suzanne were all still awake and Shannon demanded to know what was wrong. What the hell, I figured. She was already pissed at me for withholding information. What was a little more gonna hurt? But I made Jack Sullivan swear on the lives of his wife, daughter and grandchildren that he wouldn't let Shannon and Bridget leave until further notice.
And if there is one thing I ever needed to know about Jack Sullivan, he was a man of his word. He swore to me he wouldn't let them out of his sight and would personally drop Shannon off at work and Bridget off at college and pick both of them up at the end of the day, depending on how long they needed to stay there.
*****
I knew I wouldn't get anywhere over the weekend, but the minute I got into the office on Monday morning, I decided to raise holy hell with the FBI. It took constant calling and recalling before I got through to Special Agent Bryce Cooper who finally acquiesced and said that he would make a trip to Red River Falls and finally look into everything that had been going on. He even offered to bring along a digital electronics expert to look into the phone situation and try and figure out, once and for all, who the hell was behind all of this.
After I hung up with Special Agent ass clown, I collapsed back in my chair. Before I could even take a deep breath and relax a little bit, Karen Landingham buzzed in and said I had a phone call. I debated on whether to take the call but finally decided to do so and punched the speaker button.
"This is Sheriff Quinn. How can I help you?"
"Sheriff? This is Melissa Roberts," the voice replied, obviously heavy with emotion and tears. My heart sank as I knew immediately what the phone call was about.
"Melissa, it's nice to hear from you. But I'm gonna guess by the tone of your voice this isn't going to be a happy phone call," I said, sympathetically.
"No, Sheriff," she said, her voice breaking. "Mom passed away this morning around 7:30."
"Aw, Melissa," I said, with a lump in my own throat. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Was she at home?"
"No, she wasn't. She's been in hospice for the last ten days," she explained.
"Really? God, I didn't even know. I'm so sorry for that."
"Don't be, Sheriff. Mom specifically said she didn't want you to know as you had just gotten married. She wanted you and your wife to enjoy being newlyweds and not be sad over her. She was so thrilled to be at your wedding with Dad and talked about it over and over." I couldn't even look at the phone as she said that. If she only knew...
"Even then, she was thinking of others," I said in wonderment.
"That's what she did, Sheriff. She always put everybody else ahead of herself," she said, openly sobbing. Wow. Again, if only she knew. How I despised Bud Roberts! At least Margolene was finally free of him.
"Will you please let me know when the arrangements are finalized?"
"They pretty much are, Sheriff. The visitation will be Thursday night from 4 pm to 7 pm and the funeral will be Friday morning at 10:30 at St. Thomas Episcopal Church."
"I'll definitely let the department know that. And I'll have Lieutenant Amy Van Deekum get in touch with the funeral home. She is in charge of our Honor Guard team. We'd like to have them stand guard at your mother's side as a sign of our unwavering respect for your mother."
"Oh, Sheriff," Melissa said, breaking down completely. "That means so much to us! Thank you!"
"It's our pleasure, Melissa. And, please. You're a part of our family at MCSD. Please call me Patrick from now on. And tell your sister and brothers the same thing."
"Thank you, Patrick. I hope to see you soon."
"You will. Give my best to your family," I said, purposefully not mentioning Bud.
"I will. Goodbye, Patrick."
"Goodbye, hun."
I clicked the disconnect button and just stared at the phone. I knew Shannon was at work since Jack had texted me shortly after dropping her and Bridget off this morning. I punched in the number to her office and she picked up on the second ring.
"Critical Care. Shannon Sullivan speaking," she answered. I was shocked and felt like somebody had hit me in the stomach. When we got engaged, she made a big production of the fact that she intended to go traditional, as she put it, and proudly take my last name as her own.
"Shannon Sullivan, huh?" I said, sarcastically. "I guess I have the wrong number. I was looking for Shannon Quinn."
She gasped. "Patrick? I...I'm...I meant...just...I don't know...force of habit, I guess."
"Force of habit," I said. "Right."
"Patrick, don't be like that. We've only been-"
"Margolene Roberts died this morning," I interrupted. "I know you didn't know her as well as I did but I could tell the two of you liked each other and I thought you would want to know."
"Oh, Patrick, I'm so sorry."
"Why are you sorry for me?"
"I know how much you liked and admired her, Patrick."
"Yes," I said, reflectively. "I did like her. And she deserved better than what she had. Anyway, I wanted to let you know. Visitation is Thursday night and the funeral is Friday morning at 10:30."
"Thank you for calling me, Patrick. What time are you going on Thursday night?"
"I don't know for sure."
"Call me, please? I'd like to be there."
"You don't need my permission to go, Shannon."
"That's not what I meant, Patrick, and you know it! Why are you being this way? What is happening to us, Patrick?"
"I don't know. Anyway, Miss Sullivan, I need to get back to work."
"Dammit, Patrick! That's not funny!"
"I know it's not, Shannon. And if you could feel the lump in my throat right now, you'd know that first hand."
"I said I was sorry!"
"No, you said it was force of habit."
"Patrick - "
"I gotta go, Shannon. I'll talk to you soon."
*****
I had to go outside to cool off and decided to take a drive to clear my head. The truth is, I probably knew deep down inside that Shannon's answering the phone was probably just a slip of the tongue. But there was a rage that had been building inside of me for a long time and I didn't realize it at the time. Every new incident, crisis, slight, insult or trauma was building on top of each other. Combine that with the fact that we still hadn't found whoever it was that was calling and texting me and who had most likely paid a late-night visit to my house.
The only good thing was that Shannon began trying to reach out to me via text message.
I'M SORRY. IT WAS AN HONEST MISTAKE, I SWEAR! PLEASE DON'T SHUT ME OUT. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
Later on in the day.
PLEASE, PATRICK! I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW HOW YOU WERE SLIPPING AWAY FROM US! I DIDN'T MEAN THIS TO BE A SEPARATION! PLEASE LET US COME HOME!
I couldn't ignore that one and knew that I needed to respond.
THE SITUATION IS MORE DANGEROUS THAN I THOUGHT. NEED YOU AND BRIDGET TO STAY AT YOUR PARENTS. THE BOYS WILL BE STAYING WITH CLARISSA.
She obviously didn't believe me.
PLEASE, PATRICK! I LOVE YOU! I DON'T WANT TO BE AWAY FROM YOU ANY MORE! WE NEED TO FIX THIS AND GET OUR MARRIAGE BACK ON THE RIGHT FOOT!
I had to tell her.
WE WILL, I PROMISE. BUT IT ISN'T SAFE. THERE WAS AN INTRUDER AT THE HOUSE THE NIGHT YOU LEFT. I CHASED HIM OFF BUT COULDN'T CATCH HIM. I HAVE ALL MY DEPUTIES AND ALL RED RIVER PD LOOKING FOR HIM. YOU ARE ALL SAFER THE FURTHER AWAY FROM ME YOU ARE.
She replied,
OH, MY GOD! PLEASE TELL ME YOU ARE BEING SAFE! AT LEAST LET ME GO TO MARGOLENE'S VISITATION AND FUNERAL WITH YOU! I NEED TO SEE YOU! I NEED TO SEE MY HUSBAND!
It pained me to read her response. I missed her so much but I couldn't seem to shake the anger.
WE'LL SEE. I'LL TALK TO YOU SOON.
She replied,
I LOVE YOU, PATRICK! PLEASE BE SAFE!
SIGNED, MRS. SEAN PATRICK QUINN!!
She was definitely trying to get her point across. I smiled at the last text and wondered how long it would be before I got a chance to see my beautiful wife again. And I also wondered whether I could put the brakes on whatever was causing me to keeping shooting holes in my marriage.
*****
The break came the next day when I got a call from the Red River PD. I jumped in my truck and sped towards the PD headquarters, which was located in an aging and crumbling building that was actually a nearly 100-year old former National Guard armory. The joint municipal and county referendum that had recently been passed would help alleviate that. In addition to a new sheriff's office and 80-bed state-of-the-art county jail, the massive public project would also incorporate numerous other city, county and civic organizations. Among them would be a new National Guard armory, new security officer headquarters, a new fire station, a beautiful new YMCA and a host of other city and county offices.
Additionally, the development and redevelopment projects surrounding the new multi-purpose facility would also amount to over $30 million in construction projects.
I walked into the cramped and aging building and was escorted directly to Chief Roy Banks's office and was met by him and his captain, Pete Sturgeon.
"Pat, thanks for coming down," Chief Banks said, offering his hand.
"Thanks for calling," I said, shaking it. "What's going on that's so important you didn't want to discuss it over the phone?"
"Pat, Captain Sturgeon has some information that he thought you might find useful."
"Okay," I said. "I'm all ears."
"Pat, one of my officers, Sergeant Tyson Peterson has taken a particular interest in your situation and he's made some interesting observations. Tyson's been keeping a particularly close watch on the Hammadi's house. Somebody has been coming and going from the residence and usually late at night."
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