“Oh, you’re just a kid,” Mr. Patterson says gruffly. “We’ve all made mistakes growing up.”
Liam watches Sara. “I believe you regret this bad decision, Sara. I’m not going to tell your father about this either, okay? Let’s just forget this ever happened and move on with our lives.”
Sara looks like she’s about to start crying for real now. “Thank you so much, Officer Martinez, and you too, Mr.Patterson. I want my dad to be proud of me. I don’t want to cause him any more worries. I really will do better.”
“I know you will,” Liam says gently, patting her shoulder.
I find it ironic that the first call I get in Golden Peak is settled by showing compassion to someone, considering my last call in Atlanta almost cost me my career for doing the same thing. But I believe Liam handled this call correctly. Sara’s no criminal. She’s just a kid trying to fit in.
When we get in the car, I ask, “Are you really not going to tell her father?”
“I don’t see how it would help things. Sara’s a good kid.” He starts the car. “If she screws up again, then I’ll tell Caleb. But I don’t think she will.”
“I don’t either.”
The rest of the morning passes with Liam driving me around Golden Peak’s residential areas, chatting happily about being a cop in a small town. He asks me questions about my life back in Atlanta, but when I don’t give him detailed answers, he doesn’t push. I appreciate that. He’s got an easy way about him that makes conversation feel natural rather than forced. I find myself relaxing, and offering more than one-word answers as the day progresses.
Early afternoon the radio crackles. “Unit 12, welfare check requested at 442 Pine Ridge Road. Neighbor reports not seeing or hearing from Helen Hutchins since last evening.”
Liam presses his shoulder radio. “Unit 12 responding.”
He explains as we drive. “Helen is eighty-three, lives alone since her husband died. She’s independent as hell, doesn’t like people fussing over her. But her nearest neighbor Jenny worriesabout her and keeps an eye on her. Calls her every day to make sure she’s doing okay.”
“I see.”
“It’s worrisome Jenny hasn’t been able to get hold of Helen. Of course, it could be nothing,” he says. “Maybe she went to visit her daughter in Missoula. But better to check.”
“Absolutely.” I understand Mrs. Hutchins’ desire to remain independent, but when you’re in your eighties, things can happen.
Pine Ridge Road winds up into the foothills. Mrs. Hutchins’ house is a small blue bungalow with a frozen over birdbath in the front yard. Liam knocks on the door while I check the perimeter of the house. I check the windows and doors, but there are no signs of forced entry, so I return to my partner.
“Helen? It’s Officer Martinez,” Liam calls through the door.
Nothing.
“Maybe you’re right and she did just go to visit her daughter,” I say.
“I don’t know.” He grimaces. “She’d usually tell Jenny if she’s going to see her daughter.” There’s obvious concern in his voice.
“Maybe she forgot.” As I stop talking, I hear a faint groan in the distance.
“Did you hear that?” Liam asks, glancing toward the corner of the house.
“Sure did. I think that came from around back.” I turn and retrace my steps to the back of the house.
We begin searching the backyard and I’m mortified when we find Helen lying on the ground near a big wood pile. She’s wearing a pink robe and slippers. Her teeth are chattering and her lips are slightly blue. I can’t believe I didn’t see her when I first came around the back of the house. I’d been focused on the interior of the home, assuming she was inside, not out in the cold.
When she sees us, she whimpers, “Oh, thank goodness.” There’s obvious relief in her voice. “I thought I was going to freeze to death out here.”
“What happened?” I ask, kneeling beside her as Liam radios for help. I take off my coat and lay it over her.
“I fell. I… I think I broke my darned ankle.” She grits her teeth. “I lost my balance when I slipped on some ice.”
I’m surprised when she slips her hand into mine. Her fingers are freezing and I capture them between mine, trying to warm them up. “It’s okay. We’re here now. Officer Martinez is already calling for help.”
“Thank you,” she says, teeth still chattering.
I think she’s right about her ankle. It’s blue and swollen. It could be a sprain, but something about the angle makes me think it’s probably a break.
