High Tide

Chapter 29 [Please Don't Go]

Chapter 29

Please Don't Go

At 7:57pm, Charlie and Mark responded to a domestic violence call.

They didn't have a whole lot of information to go on – the girl that made the call hung up on the 911 dispatcher before she had a chance to get the details of the situation – but Charlie wasn't a rookie; he'd been on the job for twenty-one years now, so he had a pretty good idea what he was doing.

Besides, he'd been to that house before.

"I know this girl," Charlie said soberly, his hands clenched tight around the steering wheel, lights flashing red and blue as they sped down a very familiar neighborhood.

"Lily Faulkner. She's my daughter's friend," he explained, turning a corner and speeding down the street. "Oh come on, get out of the way damn it!" he added to the red minivan ahead of him that was just a little too slow at moving onto the side of the road.

They arrived on the scene at 8:03pm, getting out of the cruiser and making their way towards the door. Charlie grabbed his flashlight and took the lead, only to step back a few paces when Bobby Faulkner came storming out of the house, frying pan flailing and incoherent slurs leaving his scruffy mouth.

"Police! Stay right where you are, sir!" Charlie called out while Mark went to speak to a nosy neighbor, trying to get her out of possible harm's way.

"What do you want?" Bobby kept calling out, coming closer. "I didn't do nothin'! Did that bitch daughter of mine–" he went on.

"Drop the fryin' pan!" Charlie said forcefully, unwavering.

"I ain't–" Bobby began.

"Put the fryin' pan down, right now! Put it down!" Charlie yelled, taking a few cautious steps forward towards the house, causing Bobby to backtrack, stumble up the porch and catch himself on the side of the door. Mark was following.

Bobby swore loudly.

"Put the damn fryin' pan down," Charlie said for the last time.

"Okay, okay," Bobby grumbled, keeping eye contact with the two police officers and setting down the frying pan. He seemed to calm down upon realizing what was going on, allowing Charlie and Mark to walk inside his house.

"I didn't do nothin'," he insisted.

"What's been going on here? Where's your daughter, Faulkner?" Mark asked.

"I'm um, I'm here," Lily answered, coming out from one of the bedrooms.

If Charlie hadn't been wearing the uniform right now, he would have punched the guy for what he did to his own kid. Lily's right cheek was red and swollen, a bruise already beginning to show. Her lip was split and bleeding.

"Did he do that to you?" Charlie asked her, pointing at her face.

Lily nodded.

"Bitch deserved it!" Bobby protested, going on the defensive again.

"Alright, buddy, you're under–" Charlie didn't get the time to finish his sentence. He didn't see Bobby pull a gun on him and Mark's warning came a second too late. There was a single gunshot, Mark took out his own weapon, Lily was screaming.

Somehow, in the heat of the chaos, Charlie managed to disarm Bobby, kicking the gun away. For a split-second, everything was going to be just fine. Mark put the cuffs on Bobby, said something– but Charlie didn't understand.