Blurred Lines

Chapter 3 - An Old Man Named Frank

The morning air was crisp as Riley strode into the station, already dreading the day. She had a feeling something was coming when Luke had messaged her the night before, asking to meet up early. Sure enough, the moment she saw him leaning against his cruiser, she could sense the tension in the air.

"Morning, Torres," Luke said, his arms crossed, that familiar stern look on his face.

"Morning," she replied cautiously, glancing around as if the answer to his attitude would reveal itself. "What's going on?"

Luke didn't waste any time. "You're on desk duty today."

Riley blinked, taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Don't argue with me on this. If you can't follow simple instructions, then I'm not going to give you any. This is for your own safety."

Riley clenched her fists, trying to suppress the frustration that immediately boiled up. "I'm fine, Luke. I can handle patrol."

Maddox's eyes became impossibly darker as he held firm. "Desk duty. That's an order."

She opened her mouth to argue again but then stopped herself. There was no point. He wasn't going to budge. With a sharp exhale, she gave in. "Fine. Whatever."

As she stormed into the station, fuming, she was greeted by Officer Brett Miller, Julie's training officer, who was already sitting at the front desk. Brett had been on the force for almost five years now, and though she hadn't worked with him much, she knew he was well-liked. He was tall, with a handsome smile and shoulders that had no business looking that good in the stuffy polyester shirt.

"Ah, Torres," Brett greeted her with a grin as she slumped into the chair beside him. "Welcome to desk duty, where the excitement never ends."

"Yeah, thanks," she muttered, still annoyed.

He glanced at her sideways, sensing the tension. "I'm guessing this wasn't exactly your idea."

"Nope. Luke decided I needed a 'break,'" she said, making air quotes.

Brett chuckled. "Classic Maddox." He paused, and said "One second," before abruptly leaving the front desk. A few moments later, he returned, two cups of coffee in hand. Silently, he slid one towards her, as if trying to diffuse a bomb, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

Reluctantly, she took the coffee.

"Thanks," she grumbled, one side of her mouth tilting up.

Before Brett could respond, the door to the station opened, and an old man shuffled in, looking lost and disoriented. He was in his late seventies, wearing a faded letterman jacket that looked like it had seen better days. His eyes were wide with confusion, darting around the station like he wasn't sure where he was.

Brett and Riley immediately stood up. "Sir?" Brett called gently. "Are you okay? Can we help you?"

The man glanced at them, but his face remained blank. "I... " He did a three-sixty. "I don't know. I don't know where I am."

Riley exchanged a concerned look with Brett before they both stepped around the desk. "It's okay, sir. You're safe here. Why don't you come sit down?"

They guided the man to a chair, where he sat down heavily, still looking around as if trying to piece together his surroundings. "I don't remember... I don't know...."

Riley's heart tugged a little at the sight of him. "We're here to help, sir. Don't worry."

Brett made eye contact with Riley, nodded slightly, and left to get the man some water. Riley knelt down in front of him, taking out her notepad. "Sir, can you tell me your name?"