29-03-2025, 03:25 PM
"I don't care," I said, finally.
"Excuse me?" Bud asked.
"I don't care," I repeated.
"About what?"
"About you. About Clarissa. About Marion. I don't care. Do what you want. If you want Clarissa and she's dumb enough to actually want you back, so be it."
"Do...do you really...mean that, Patrick?" he asked, hopeful.
"Sure. Go for it. Both you and Clarissa are two of the most morally and mentally fucked up people I have ever met. If you want her and she decides she wants you, then go for it. Personally, I don't think you have a prayer. Ever since her mother got hooked up with a guy who has more money than King Midas, she's become nothing short of a gold digger. The problem for you, Bud, is that you're a lifelong civil servant. Which means you ain't got a lot of gold. But, hey. Whatever."
I stood and started walking away.
"You really mean that, Patrick? I mean, are you really serious?" he called after me.
"I'm serious as a heart attack, Bud, when I say that I no longer give two tinker's fucks about you or Clarissa. If she does take you, Bud, you better never try being a dad to my boys. That's my job. You mistreat them in any way, shape or form - or even Clarissa, for that matter - I'll rip off your goddamned head and shit down your neck, understand me?"
"Thank you, Patrick! That means the world to me!"
"Lots of luck, asshole. You're gonna need it. Some women are high maintenance and Clarissa needs more upkeep than a fucking 747. I wish you the best of luck!"
I stopped by the gravesite one last time and took a final glimpse of Margolene's casket. I caressed the shiny polished oak coffin and leaned in and gave it a kiss.
"Rest well, Margolene," I whispered. "You deserve it."
When I got back to my truck, Shannon had it running and ready to go.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"I don't wanna talk about it," I answered.
"Patrick," she started, getting defensive.
"I just wanna go home, sweetheart. I promise I'll tell you anything you want. But I just need to get out of here right now."
"Okay," she said, somewhat put off.
We rode in silence for about ten minutes of the ride home until I reached over and took her hand and just held it until we got home. I still couldn't get over the nerve of Bud Roberts. He was a shell of a human being, completely devoid of the capacity for reasonable thought of feelings for anyone but himself. Even I knew that there was no way Clarissa would take him back. If nothing else, I at least had to give her some credit for that.
We entered the house and I started changing out of my uniform and into some casual clothes.
"What did Bud want with you, if you don't mind me asking?" Shannon asked coming into the bedroom.
"I don't mind, sweetheart. And from here on out, you should consider it a right to know whatever I know. I promise, from here on out to keep nothing from you, no matter how bad, scary or dangerous it might be. It should have been that way from the beginning and I'm sorry that I have to start over and rebuild the trust in you I took for granted."
"That means so much to me," she said, taking my hand. "So, what did he say?"
"Are you ready for this?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, a sly smile creeping across her face.
"Believe it or not, Bud actually asked me if I had a problem with him dating Clarissa again."
Shannon's mouth was agape. "Wh, what? Are you kidding me?"
"I shit you not. I absolutely shit you not. That self-absorbed narcissistic bastard who had an affair with my wife actually had the balls to ask me if he could see her again. At his own wife's funeral, for Christ's sake!"
"Oh, my God! What did you tell him?"
"I told him to go for it. I also told him that, ever since Clarissa's mom got hooked up with a multi-multi-millionaire that Clarissa herself had turned into a money-hungry bitch. And a retired Sheriff doesn't have THAT kind of money. So, you do the math on that one."
"Aaaaah," Shannon cooed, and then giggled. "It's like you're giving him something and nothing at the same time! Well played, Mr. Quinn!"
"Why thank you, Mrs. Quinn!" I replied, leaning in for a deep, passionate kiss.
"Mrs. Quinn! I love the sound of that!"
"Me, too, babe. And I want you to know that I will do whatever it takes to get our marriage back on track and headed towards forever. The thought of losing you, whether you left me or whether someone took you from me, scares the shit out of me like nothing else. And I'm so damned sorry for not telling you about the Hammadi kid. I'll do whatever it takes to re-earn your trust. I'll talk to someone, go to therapy to deal with my issues - it doesn't matter. Just as long as you're there to help me through it."
Shannon reached over to hug me and kiss me. "Of course, Patrick. And you should know that I'll never leave you. I chose you and you chose me. And I know someone you can talk to. He and his wife are terrific friends of mine. He specializes in working with Veterans but I know he'll be terrific for you, too! And I'll be there with you every step of the way. I promise!"
"Thank you, sweetheart. I know I can do anything with you by my side!"
"You better," she said, stealing another kiss. "You've got nine months to get your act together," she teased.
"Why? What happens in nine...Oh, shit! Are you serious?"
"Why yes, my dear husband! You got your blushing bride good and knocked up on our wedding night!"
"How long have you known?"
"Only a couple of days. I haven't even confirmed it with my gyno yet. But even the home kits are highly reliable and I took THREE just to be sure."
"Wow," I whispered. "A little earlier than we had planned. But I can't even begin to describe how happy I am."
"Come on, babe. Let's go to bed! We've got some time to celebrate before the kids come home!"
"Sounds like the best kind of therapy!"
*****
I had one final task to complete to put the entire episode of this past summer and autumn behind me. We had eight finalists on our approved civil service list of candidates to fill Tristan's position. Of those, I chose to interview three whom I felt had the best qualifications, based on years of experience and their resumes.
I interviewed the first one on Wednesday of that week and another on Thursday. Either of them would have been solid additions to our department. The first candidate was a female officer with the St. Cloud, Minnesota security officer Department and the second candidate was an officer from Minot security officer Department.
The third and final candidate was a man who wasn't currently working as a law enforcement officer but who had moved to Red River Falls to follow his wife, a successful realtor from the very affluent Twin Cities suburb of Edina, who had bought a half-interest in the local Century 21 real estate firm here. He was fairly tall, about 6'2", and had the physique of an athlete, very muscular and trim. He was also an African-American. And, no, I wasn't interviewing him specifically to replace Tristan, who was also black.
"Karl?" I said, calling to him out in the hallway where he was seated.
"Yes, Sheriff," he said as he stood.
"Pat Quinn," I said, smiling and extending my hand.
"Karl Rahman," he said as he shook it. He pronounced his last name as rock-mahn.
"Please come in and have a seat," I said, gesturing to a chair.
"Thank you, Sheriff."
"So," I said, taking my own seat. "You'll have to pardon us. We're in the process of getting ready to move to new offices in the coming months and we're already starting to pack things up," I said, nodding to various boxes. My office was becoming more cluttered by the day.
"No problem, Sheriff," Karl said, in his deep bass voice. Wow. Barry White had nothing on Karl Rahman.
"So, why don't you tell me a little about yourself," I said, opening his file. "I'm a bit confused. You introduced yourself as Karl but your info lists your name as Kareem."
"Uh, yeah. Well, I've gone by Karl since I was a little kid. My father named me. My full name is Kareem Abdul Raheem Rahman. I was born in East St. Louis, Illinois. My father was fortunate enough to get accepted to St. Louis University back in the 1980s on a basketball scholarship."
"No, kidding? Did your Dad play for Charlie Spoonhour?"
"Naw, naw. Pops played two years for a guy named Rich Grawer. Coach Spoonhour didn't come along until the nineties."
"Oh, I see. I'm off by a few years," I chuckled.
"That's cool, Sheriff. Anyway, Pops only played two years before he tore the ACL and MCL in his right knee. Anyway, he ended transferring to Northwestern University and got a degree in Engineering. While he was going to college there, he ended up getting acquainted with and becoming a member of the Nation of .,. Karl was actually my birth name but he renamed me Kareem."
"That's an interesting journey your family took. Is your father still pretty active in his faith?" The question took him back a bit but he pressed ahead anyway.
"Somewhat, but not with Nation of .,. He joined a more mainstream mosque a few years back."
"What led to that, if I may ask?"
"Uh...well...actually, it was because Minister Farrakhan has started urging members to start studying Dianetics."
"Dianetics? Seriously? Isn't that a Scientology thing?"
"Uh, yeah, Sheriff. It is. That's why Pops left. He had no intentions of being a damned Scientologist," Karl said, chuckling.
"How about you?"
"Me?" he asked. "What about me, Sheriff?"
"Are you pretty active with your faith?"
"Uh, I consider myself a '., yes. But I wouldn't really consider myself devout. More like a lapsed '.. I pray when I have something to talk with God about. I try to help the less fortunate when I can, especially with my time instead of money. I've never been to Mecca but I'd like to go at least once in my life time."
"Is your wife '.?"
Karl took a deep breath and I sensed I was really pushing the limits. "Um, no, she's not. Latisha is actually a Pentecostal. We're raising our kids to be accepting of both faiths. When they are old enough, they'll be able to decide for themselves what path they choose to follow."
"I see," I said, nodding.
"May I ask you a question, Sheriff?"
"By all means," I invited.
"Why are you so concerned over my faith?"
I took a deep breath and thought carefully about my answer.
"Karl, I'm sure you are probably aware that there have been a number of incidents in Red River Falls that surrounded a certain ---c influence. No doubt that you heard about the death of one of our deputies, his fiancée and her two brothers, as well as the death of a State Trooper."
"I'm aware of what happened, Sheriff."
"Then I'm sure you know that my deputies and I were responsible for taking the lives of those two men."
"And you're worried about hiring a '., Sheriff?"
"No. No, absolutely not. I guess I'm more worried about what you might think of me as your boss, knowing that I took the life those two men. I'm concerned that you might think I have a deep-seated fear or dislike of '.s."
"Do you, Sheriff?"
"I don't think so. Or at least I don't like to think I do. But I'd also be lying if I said that I wasn't extremely angry over what happened to my deputy."
"Why wouldn't you be, Sheriff? I'm sure you care a great deal for every one of your deputies. I'd be more concerned if you weren't upset about the death of one of your own."
"I just don't want it to be a cloud that hangs over our heads if we end up working together. I guess that's why I wanted to get it out in the open."
"So you are concerned about what I might think of you, Sheriff, because you took the lives of a couple of dirt bags?"
"I wasn't sure what to think. But I do appreciate your candor."
"Sheriff, I'm gonna guess by that crucifix on your wall that you're probably Catholic. But, aside from that display, I have no doubt that you probably check your beliefs at the door. And I would absolutely do the same thing. I would want you to see me not as a '. deputy, but as simply a Mason County Sheriff's Deputy."
"I appreciate that, Karl."
"And as far as I'm concerned, Sheriff, those two men had everything coming to them, as far as getting themselves killed. What they did to their own sister is something that would NEVER be allowed in .,. Those are ancient tribal beliefs that pre-date .,. Honor killings are not, never have been and never will be encouraged nor endorsed by .,." The conviction and passion in his voice told me that he truly believed every word he was saying.
"Can I ask another question, Sheriff?" he asked.
"By all means."
"Why did you want to interview me today? Are you looking to make a statement with this hire? Are you looking to hire another black deputy? Or a '. one?"
"Absolutely not, I assure you. I have your file here from your time with the St. Paul security officer Department. You were there for eight years. Graduated top of your class from the Minneapolis security officer Academy. You were decorated twice for bravery. In the entire time you were an officer there you had a total of two citizens complaints filed against you and both of them were resolved in your favor."
"Gotta love those body cams," Karl said, smiling.
"You got that right," I agreed. "That's why we have them on our department. But moving on, you also started and headed up a youth crime partnership in the local colleges, served as a D.A.R.E. officer for a while and were named Officer of the Year in 2014. And to top it all off, you had a 94% arrest-to-conviction rate, which was the highest of all officers on your department. You made Sergeant a year ago and were on the list for Lieutenant. You're not just a cop, Karl. You're a superstar. And yet, you chose to leave the Twin Cities and follow your wife here to Red River Falls."
He shrugged. "This is where my family is. My wife and kids come before my job. Not to mention the fact that my wife makes a heck of a lot more as a realtor than I do as a LEO."
"I hear that," I said, chuckling. "My wife is on a fast track to becoming a Nurse Practitioner and is having her name thrown around for Vice-President of Nursing at Holy Family Medical Center, which will put her ahead of me. By a long shot!"
"You know how it is, then," Karl said, grinning a million-dollar smile. "Probably not too many cops besides me that'll have a house down by the country club. When Latisha bought it, I damned near had a heart attack. I told her I'd need to get her pregnant two or three more times just to have an excuse to use all the room!" he said, laughing.
"Yeah, definitely some nice houses down there," I agreed. "Look, Karl. I appreciate your candor and willingness to answer my questions and be so open with me."
"Definitely didn't get this deep and personal with Chief Banks the other day."
"Chief Banks? I take it you are on Red River PD's list, too?"
"Uh, yeah. Doesn't sound like they're going to be bringing anyone on any time soon, though."
I sat there and gave Karl a good once over. His service record at a MAJOR metropolitan security officer department was basically unblemished and he had immersed himself in absolutely every aspect of his work and had been devoted to giving back to his community. I could easily be looking at the man who might one day replace me as Sheriff of Mason County. If I was seriously looking to hire the best candidate for the job, I had no further to search than the man sitting right in front of me. In fact, I'd be the biggest jackass in the Upper Plains if I didn't hire him on the spot.
"Deputy Karl Abdul Raheem Rahman," I said thoughtfully. "Kinda has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Sheriff," he said just beaming. "It sure does!"
Karl stood up as I did and I extended my hand, which he shook vigorously.
"Deputy Rahman, welcome to the Mason County Sheriff's Department!"
"Thank you, Sheriff!"
"Follow me a second," I said, opening my office door and leading him out into the main office area.
It was nearly 3:00 in the afternoon and the middle of shift change. So there were numerous deputies milling about the office area.
"Can I have everyone's attention?" I called out. Immediately the buzz died down. "I just wanted to take a moment to introduce everyone to the newest member of the Mason County Sheriff's Department, Deputy Karl Rahman."
The room immediately broke out into applause and everyone came over to shake Karl's hand and introduce themselves. I wasn't sure how they would react at first, given that Karl was technically Tristan's replacement. But Chris Hayes said it best when he mentioned that the department would take a psychological step forward just knowing that we were back at full strength, that seeing that blank space on our staffing roster next to the number 17-25 was bothering people now more than anything.
I felt certain that, wherever Tristan and Miriam were looking down on us from, that they couldn't be happier that we had such an amazing and qualified man like Karl to join our ranks. They would both be immensely proud.
EPILOGUE
It was the damned flowers. There was a sea of flowers at Tristan and Trooper Rockney's funerals. People sent a sea of flowers to the Sheriff's Department afterwards. There was a sea of flowers at my wedding. There was a sea of flowers at Margolene's funeral. When I was hospitalized after being shot a couple years ago, my hospital room was constantly filled with flowers until the day I was discharged.
It became what my therapist, Doctor Gene Handler, termed as "triggers" that automatically harkened back to some of the darkest days in my life. I had what can only be described as a ton of emotional baggage. The shooting, Clarissa's affair, her and Bud's efforts to frame me and send me to prison, my divorce, my torrid affair with Clarissa's mother, Tristan's death, Trooper Rockney's death, killing William Raymond Jackson and Kimberly Trenton, killing the two Hammadi brothers.
I had been trying to bury everything for so long that it was slowly bubbling to the surface and finally broke under the threat that Jaffar Hammadi posed to my family. Dr. Landry employed what he called "immersion therapy" which has had a lot of success for Veterans of Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. It has also had a lot of success for bang victims. As odd as it sounds, it involves the patient giving a play-by-play account of the traumatic events and actually has the effect of giving the individual more control over the memories and emotions and how they affect daily life.
Shannon, Bridget, the boys and I also had a chance to finally go on our honeymoon. We took a magical trip on a Disney cruise to the Caribbean while the kids were home during Christmas break. The ship, the weather, the entertainment, amenities, activities and food were absolutely amazing! We spent five days cruising aboard the ship and another four days in Orlando at Walt Disney World and all of the area theme parks and attractions. It was just what we needed to jump start our family life once again.
Jack and Suzanne even came along so that Bridget could stay with them. Nick and Jake had a room to themselves, which they thought was awesome. And Shannon and I had a lot of "catching up" to do. She even joked that I was trying to see if I could get her even MORE pregnant, as if that was possible.
There was still one area I had a lot of work to do - regaining the trust of my boys. In dealing with all the shit I had to work through following Tristan's death, I had withdrawn greatly from both of my boys, but especially Nick. It took more than a few heart-to-heart talks and an endless stream of apologies from me. I even invited him to one of my therapy sessions with Dr. Landry to help work some things out. He's a typical teenager and pushing his boundaries, just like any teen. We're not back to where we used to be but we're getting close. In spite of everything, I'm still immensely proud of him and the young man he's becoming.
"Excuse me?" Bud asked.
"I don't care," I repeated.
"About what?"
"About you. About Clarissa. About Marion. I don't care. Do what you want. If you want Clarissa and she's dumb enough to actually want you back, so be it."
"Do...do you really...mean that, Patrick?" he asked, hopeful.
"Sure. Go for it. Both you and Clarissa are two of the most morally and mentally fucked up people I have ever met. If you want her and she decides she wants you, then go for it. Personally, I don't think you have a prayer. Ever since her mother got hooked up with a guy who has more money than King Midas, she's become nothing short of a gold digger. The problem for you, Bud, is that you're a lifelong civil servant. Which means you ain't got a lot of gold. But, hey. Whatever."
I stood and started walking away.
"You really mean that, Patrick? I mean, are you really serious?" he called after me.
"I'm serious as a heart attack, Bud, when I say that I no longer give two tinker's fucks about you or Clarissa. If she does take you, Bud, you better never try being a dad to my boys. That's my job. You mistreat them in any way, shape or form - or even Clarissa, for that matter - I'll rip off your goddamned head and shit down your neck, understand me?"
"Thank you, Patrick! That means the world to me!"
"Lots of luck, asshole. You're gonna need it. Some women are high maintenance and Clarissa needs more upkeep than a fucking 747. I wish you the best of luck!"
I stopped by the gravesite one last time and took a final glimpse of Margolene's casket. I caressed the shiny polished oak coffin and leaned in and gave it a kiss.
"Rest well, Margolene," I whispered. "You deserve it."
When I got back to my truck, Shannon had it running and ready to go.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"I don't wanna talk about it," I answered.
"Patrick," she started, getting defensive.
"I just wanna go home, sweetheart. I promise I'll tell you anything you want. But I just need to get out of here right now."
"Okay," she said, somewhat put off.
We rode in silence for about ten minutes of the ride home until I reached over and took her hand and just held it until we got home. I still couldn't get over the nerve of Bud Roberts. He was a shell of a human being, completely devoid of the capacity for reasonable thought of feelings for anyone but himself. Even I knew that there was no way Clarissa would take him back. If nothing else, I at least had to give her some credit for that.
We entered the house and I started changing out of my uniform and into some casual clothes.
"What did Bud want with you, if you don't mind me asking?" Shannon asked coming into the bedroom.
"I don't mind, sweetheart. And from here on out, you should consider it a right to know whatever I know. I promise, from here on out to keep nothing from you, no matter how bad, scary or dangerous it might be. It should have been that way from the beginning and I'm sorry that I have to start over and rebuild the trust in you I took for granted."
"That means so much to me," she said, taking my hand. "So, what did he say?"
"Are you ready for this?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, a sly smile creeping across her face.
"Believe it or not, Bud actually asked me if I had a problem with him dating Clarissa again."
Shannon's mouth was agape. "Wh, what? Are you kidding me?"
"I shit you not. I absolutely shit you not. That self-absorbed narcissistic bastard who had an affair with my wife actually had the balls to ask me if he could see her again. At his own wife's funeral, for Christ's sake!"
"Oh, my God! What did you tell him?"
"I told him to go for it. I also told him that, ever since Clarissa's mom got hooked up with a multi-multi-millionaire that Clarissa herself had turned into a money-hungry bitch. And a retired Sheriff doesn't have THAT kind of money. So, you do the math on that one."
"Aaaaah," Shannon cooed, and then giggled. "It's like you're giving him something and nothing at the same time! Well played, Mr. Quinn!"
"Why thank you, Mrs. Quinn!" I replied, leaning in for a deep, passionate kiss.
"Mrs. Quinn! I love the sound of that!"
"Me, too, babe. And I want you to know that I will do whatever it takes to get our marriage back on track and headed towards forever. The thought of losing you, whether you left me or whether someone took you from me, scares the shit out of me like nothing else. And I'm so damned sorry for not telling you about the Hammadi kid. I'll do whatever it takes to re-earn your trust. I'll talk to someone, go to therapy to deal with my issues - it doesn't matter. Just as long as you're there to help me through it."
Shannon reached over to hug me and kiss me. "Of course, Patrick. And you should know that I'll never leave you. I chose you and you chose me. And I know someone you can talk to. He and his wife are terrific friends of mine. He specializes in working with Veterans but I know he'll be terrific for you, too! And I'll be there with you every step of the way. I promise!"
"Thank you, sweetheart. I know I can do anything with you by my side!"
"You better," she said, stealing another kiss. "You've got nine months to get your act together," she teased.
"Why? What happens in nine...Oh, shit! Are you serious?"
"Why yes, my dear husband! You got your blushing bride good and knocked up on our wedding night!"
"How long have you known?"
"Only a couple of days. I haven't even confirmed it with my gyno yet. But even the home kits are highly reliable and I took THREE just to be sure."
"Wow," I whispered. "A little earlier than we had planned. But I can't even begin to describe how happy I am."
"Come on, babe. Let's go to bed! We've got some time to celebrate before the kids come home!"
"Sounds like the best kind of therapy!"
*****
I had one final task to complete to put the entire episode of this past summer and autumn behind me. We had eight finalists on our approved civil service list of candidates to fill Tristan's position. Of those, I chose to interview three whom I felt had the best qualifications, based on years of experience and their resumes.
I interviewed the first one on Wednesday of that week and another on Thursday. Either of them would have been solid additions to our department. The first candidate was a female officer with the St. Cloud, Minnesota security officer Department and the second candidate was an officer from Minot security officer Department.
The third and final candidate was a man who wasn't currently working as a law enforcement officer but who had moved to Red River Falls to follow his wife, a successful realtor from the very affluent Twin Cities suburb of Edina, who had bought a half-interest in the local Century 21 real estate firm here. He was fairly tall, about 6'2", and had the physique of an athlete, very muscular and trim. He was also an African-American. And, no, I wasn't interviewing him specifically to replace Tristan, who was also black.
"Karl?" I said, calling to him out in the hallway where he was seated.
"Yes, Sheriff," he said as he stood.
"Pat Quinn," I said, smiling and extending my hand.
"Karl Rahman," he said as he shook it. He pronounced his last name as rock-mahn.
"Please come in and have a seat," I said, gesturing to a chair.
"Thank you, Sheriff."
"So," I said, taking my own seat. "You'll have to pardon us. We're in the process of getting ready to move to new offices in the coming months and we're already starting to pack things up," I said, nodding to various boxes. My office was becoming more cluttered by the day.
"No problem, Sheriff," Karl said, in his deep bass voice. Wow. Barry White had nothing on Karl Rahman.
"So, why don't you tell me a little about yourself," I said, opening his file. "I'm a bit confused. You introduced yourself as Karl but your info lists your name as Kareem."
"Uh, yeah. Well, I've gone by Karl since I was a little kid. My father named me. My full name is Kareem Abdul Raheem Rahman. I was born in East St. Louis, Illinois. My father was fortunate enough to get accepted to St. Louis University back in the 1980s on a basketball scholarship."
"No, kidding? Did your Dad play for Charlie Spoonhour?"
"Naw, naw. Pops played two years for a guy named Rich Grawer. Coach Spoonhour didn't come along until the nineties."
"Oh, I see. I'm off by a few years," I chuckled.
"That's cool, Sheriff. Anyway, Pops only played two years before he tore the ACL and MCL in his right knee. Anyway, he ended transferring to Northwestern University and got a degree in Engineering. While he was going to college there, he ended up getting acquainted with and becoming a member of the Nation of .,. Karl was actually my birth name but he renamed me Kareem."
"That's an interesting journey your family took. Is your father still pretty active in his faith?" The question took him back a bit but he pressed ahead anyway.
"Somewhat, but not with Nation of .,. He joined a more mainstream mosque a few years back."
"What led to that, if I may ask?"
"Uh...well...actually, it was because Minister Farrakhan has started urging members to start studying Dianetics."
"Dianetics? Seriously? Isn't that a Scientology thing?"
"Uh, yeah, Sheriff. It is. That's why Pops left. He had no intentions of being a damned Scientologist," Karl said, chuckling.
"How about you?"
"Me?" he asked. "What about me, Sheriff?"
"Are you pretty active with your faith?"
"Uh, I consider myself a '., yes. But I wouldn't really consider myself devout. More like a lapsed '.. I pray when I have something to talk with God about. I try to help the less fortunate when I can, especially with my time instead of money. I've never been to Mecca but I'd like to go at least once in my life time."
"Is your wife '.?"
Karl took a deep breath and I sensed I was really pushing the limits. "Um, no, she's not. Latisha is actually a Pentecostal. We're raising our kids to be accepting of both faiths. When they are old enough, they'll be able to decide for themselves what path they choose to follow."
"I see," I said, nodding.
"May I ask you a question, Sheriff?"
"By all means," I invited.
"Why are you so concerned over my faith?"
I took a deep breath and thought carefully about my answer.
"Karl, I'm sure you are probably aware that there have been a number of incidents in Red River Falls that surrounded a certain ---c influence. No doubt that you heard about the death of one of our deputies, his fiancée and her two brothers, as well as the death of a State Trooper."
"I'm aware of what happened, Sheriff."
"Then I'm sure you know that my deputies and I were responsible for taking the lives of those two men."
"And you're worried about hiring a '., Sheriff?"
"No. No, absolutely not. I guess I'm more worried about what you might think of me as your boss, knowing that I took the life those two men. I'm concerned that you might think I have a deep-seated fear or dislike of '.s."
"Do you, Sheriff?"
"I don't think so. Or at least I don't like to think I do. But I'd also be lying if I said that I wasn't extremely angry over what happened to my deputy."
"Why wouldn't you be, Sheriff? I'm sure you care a great deal for every one of your deputies. I'd be more concerned if you weren't upset about the death of one of your own."
"I just don't want it to be a cloud that hangs over our heads if we end up working together. I guess that's why I wanted to get it out in the open."
"So you are concerned about what I might think of you, Sheriff, because you took the lives of a couple of dirt bags?"
"I wasn't sure what to think. But I do appreciate your candor."
"Sheriff, I'm gonna guess by that crucifix on your wall that you're probably Catholic. But, aside from that display, I have no doubt that you probably check your beliefs at the door. And I would absolutely do the same thing. I would want you to see me not as a '. deputy, but as simply a Mason County Sheriff's Deputy."
"I appreciate that, Karl."
"And as far as I'm concerned, Sheriff, those two men had everything coming to them, as far as getting themselves killed. What they did to their own sister is something that would NEVER be allowed in .,. Those are ancient tribal beliefs that pre-date .,. Honor killings are not, never have been and never will be encouraged nor endorsed by .,." The conviction and passion in his voice told me that he truly believed every word he was saying.
"Can I ask another question, Sheriff?" he asked.
"By all means."
"Why did you want to interview me today? Are you looking to make a statement with this hire? Are you looking to hire another black deputy? Or a '. one?"
"Absolutely not, I assure you. I have your file here from your time with the St. Paul security officer Department. You were there for eight years. Graduated top of your class from the Minneapolis security officer Academy. You were decorated twice for bravery. In the entire time you were an officer there you had a total of two citizens complaints filed against you and both of them were resolved in your favor."
"Gotta love those body cams," Karl said, smiling.
"You got that right," I agreed. "That's why we have them on our department. But moving on, you also started and headed up a youth crime partnership in the local colleges, served as a D.A.R.E. officer for a while and were named Officer of the Year in 2014. And to top it all off, you had a 94% arrest-to-conviction rate, which was the highest of all officers on your department. You made Sergeant a year ago and were on the list for Lieutenant. You're not just a cop, Karl. You're a superstar. And yet, you chose to leave the Twin Cities and follow your wife here to Red River Falls."
He shrugged. "This is where my family is. My wife and kids come before my job. Not to mention the fact that my wife makes a heck of a lot more as a realtor than I do as a LEO."
"I hear that," I said, chuckling. "My wife is on a fast track to becoming a Nurse Practitioner and is having her name thrown around for Vice-President of Nursing at Holy Family Medical Center, which will put her ahead of me. By a long shot!"
"You know how it is, then," Karl said, grinning a million-dollar smile. "Probably not too many cops besides me that'll have a house down by the country club. When Latisha bought it, I damned near had a heart attack. I told her I'd need to get her pregnant two or three more times just to have an excuse to use all the room!" he said, laughing.
"Yeah, definitely some nice houses down there," I agreed. "Look, Karl. I appreciate your candor and willingness to answer my questions and be so open with me."
"Definitely didn't get this deep and personal with Chief Banks the other day."
"Chief Banks? I take it you are on Red River PD's list, too?"
"Uh, yeah. Doesn't sound like they're going to be bringing anyone on any time soon, though."
I sat there and gave Karl a good once over. His service record at a MAJOR metropolitan security officer department was basically unblemished and he had immersed himself in absolutely every aspect of his work and had been devoted to giving back to his community. I could easily be looking at the man who might one day replace me as Sheriff of Mason County. If I was seriously looking to hire the best candidate for the job, I had no further to search than the man sitting right in front of me. In fact, I'd be the biggest jackass in the Upper Plains if I didn't hire him on the spot.
"Deputy Karl Abdul Raheem Rahman," I said thoughtfully. "Kinda has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"
"Yes, Sheriff," he said just beaming. "It sure does!"
Karl stood up as I did and I extended my hand, which he shook vigorously.
"Deputy Rahman, welcome to the Mason County Sheriff's Department!"
"Thank you, Sheriff!"
"Follow me a second," I said, opening my office door and leading him out into the main office area.
It was nearly 3:00 in the afternoon and the middle of shift change. So there were numerous deputies milling about the office area.
"Can I have everyone's attention?" I called out. Immediately the buzz died down. "I just wanted to take a moment to introduce everyone to the newest member of the Mason County Sheriff's Department, Deputy Karl Rahman."
The room immediately broke out into applause and everyone came over to shake Karl's hand and introduce themselves. I wasn't sure how they would react at first, given that Karl was technically Tristan's replacement. But Chris Hayes said it best when he mentioned that the department would take a psychological step forward just knowing that we were back at full strength, that seeing that blank space on our staffing roster next to the number 17-25 was bothering people now more than anything.
I felt certain that, wherever Tristan and Miriam were looking down on us from, that they couldn't be happier that we had such an amazing and qualified man like Karl to join our ranks. They would both be immensely proud.
EPILOGUE
It was the damned flowers. There was a sea of flowers at Tristan and Trooper Rockney's funerals. People sent a sea of flowers to the Sheriff's Department afterwards. There was a sea of flowers at my wedding. There was a sea of flowers at Margolene's funeral. When I was hospitalized after being shot a couple years ago, my hospital room was constantly filled with flowers until the day I was discharged.
It became what my therapist, Doctor Gene Handler, termed as "triggers" that automatically harkened back to some of the darkest days in my life. I had what can only be described as a ton of emotional baggage. The shooting, Clarissa's affair, her and Bud's efforts to frame me and send me to prison, my divorce, my torrid affair with Clarissa's mother, Tristan's death, Trooper Rockney's death, killing William Raymond Jackson and Kimberly Trenton, killing the two Hammadi brothers.
I had been trying to bury everything for so long that it was slowly bubbling to the surface and finally broke under the threat that Jaffar Hammadi posed to my family. Dr. Landry employed what he called "immersion therapy" which has had a lot of success for Veterans of Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan. It has also had a lot of success for bang victims. As odd as it sounds, it involves the patient giving a play-by-play account of the traumatic events and actually has the effect of giving the individual more control over the memories and emotions and how they affect daily life.
Shannon, Bridget, the boys and I also had a chance to finally go on our honeymoon. We took a magical trip on a Disney cruise to the Caribbean while the kids were home during Christmas break. The ship, the weather, the entertainment, amenities, activities and food were absolutely amazing! We spent five days cruising aboard the ship and another four days in Orlando at Walt Disney World and all of the area theme parks and attractions. It was just what we needed to jump start our family life once again.
Jack and Suzanne even came along so that Bridget could stay with them. Nick and Jake had a room to themselves, which they thought was awesome. And Shannon and I had a lot of "catching up" to do. She even joked that I was trying to see if I could get her even MORE pregnant, as if that was possible.
There was still one area I had a lot of work to do - regaining the trust of my boys. In dealing with all the shit I had to work through following Tristan's death, I had withdrawn greatly from both of my boys, but especially Nick. It took more than a few heart-to-heart talks and an endless stream of apologies from me. I even invited him to one of my therapy sessions with Dr. Landry to help work some things out. He's a typical teenager and pushing his boundaries, just like any teen. We're not back to where we used to be but we're getting close. In spite of everything, I'm still immensely proud of him and the young man he's becoming.
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