“Officer Sutton,” he says. It’s not a question. He knows who I am.
He holds out his hand. I take it, and he squeezes firmly. His palm is sweaty, or maybe it’s mine. Either way there is something unnerved between us.
“Thank you for following me here. I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to meet in public. I didn’t want to get you in any trouble.”
I nod and look at my feet, which shuffle on the pavement. “No—it’s okay. I...”
He senses my apprehension and charges in with an introduction. “I’m Wade Austin. Sorry, I should have started with that.”
I get my shit together. Enough to ask more questions. “How did you find me? I mean, how did you know where I’d be?”
He looks away, embarrassed. “I work downtown. Not far from the police station. Shield Insurance?”
I shake my head. I’ve never heard of it.
“I’ve been driving by the station to look for your car. The spaces are marked, and yours has been empty since the... since that dreadful day. I don’t know why I’ve been checking. I suppose I needed to know you were okay. There’s been nothing in the papers beyond the award and all that. I thought if I saw a car in your space, then you were back at work, and all was well.”
I stand perfectly still now as I listen. I continue to build the case for why I should be here. The reasoning to justify my impulsive behavior. What he says is not only rational, I tell myself, it feels honest and vulnerable and aligns with a normal psychological response.
“I’ve wanted to see you. To speak to you. But I didn’t know if you would think it was strange. And then today—there it was. The car was in your space, so I waited. Hoping it was you.”
I smile softly, though my mind is making calculations as to how odd this is or whether it is odd at all. I have nothing for a measure.
“Are you back at work, then? Investigating the shooting? The papers said you were on leave.”
“No,” I tell him. “I was just... doing some administrative things.”
He seems relieved by this, but I don’t know why.
I can’t hold back one second longer. I need my answer. “You left the scene without giving a statement.”
Wade reaches out and touches my arm. It startles me, but I don’t pull away.
“I was in such a daze after it happened. I waited for a while outside, but there were so many people crying and yelling and the sirens—I just needed to get out there. I felt this powerful urge to get home and take a shower and be in silence, you know? To see if I could somehow slip back into the Wade Austin I was before I went into that horrible place to buy a new pair of pants.”
Yes, I think.That’s exactly right. Shock and disbelief. Confusion.We hadn’t pursued him. There was no plea to the public through the media or otherwise. His statement was not important to the investigation because we had the gun and we had the suspect and we had me and what I saw. No one was questioning my actions. We also had the pregnant woman who ran into the dressing room—Vera Pratt.
“I can come in tomorrow,” he offers. “I don’t have much time today. I said I was meeting a client.”
“I don’t either,” I tell him. I think about how I promised to meet the girls at the bus. This is my last day home with them before I go back to work.
“I just wanted to speak with you,” he says. “I wanted to tell you that I’m so grateful to you and for what you did. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. Every second that passed after I heard the first shots. They reminded me of balloons popping.”
“Yes!” I say, leaning closer to him. “I thought that too! I thought about my daughter’s birthday party last month. And Bubble Wrap and—”
“Cars backfiring!” he interrupts.
“Yes! We have a generator that does that as soon as we turn it off—”
“You need to clean the carburetor. Remind me the next time we meet and I’ll explain.”
The frenetic exchange gives way with this last comment.The next time we meet...
I ignore the thought that I need this to end. I need to go home and think about this man and his actions that to anyone else would appear bizarre. I am still vulnerable, cycling through the stages.
“I have questions about that day—”
“I’ll give you my number.” He sounds eager.
