Wrong Town: A Mark Landry Novel (23 page)

Seventy-two

Luci had spent most of the morning making her rounds at the high school. Guidance counselors. Teachers. Coaches. Reaching out and building relationships in the community was not only her primary responsibility; it was her greatest strength. She always found ways to connect and offer help, and smiles lit up whenever she entered the room. When the final bell of the school year sounded, she left the special-needs department and bumped into Julia in the hallway.

“Julia! What are you doing here? You graduated, right? Back for more?” she asked cheerfully.

Julia beamed and squeezed Luci’s hand.

“Yes, I did. I’m back to say thanks to a few people and beg for a letter of recommendation from one of my teachers.”

“What for?” asked Luci.

“College,” she answered. “
Abuela
thinks we can scrape together enough money for me to start taking classes this summer. Of course I had to get a job waiting tables at the diner to pay for most of it, but that’s the plan.”

Luci’s brilliant smile filled the corridor as she opened her arms and beckoned Julia for a hug. “I am so proud of you! That’s incredible, but I’m not surprised. I always knew you had it in you and would do the right things. Good for you, Julia. When do you start?”

“I start work today and hopefully classes by midsummer,” she answered as she glanced over Luci’s shoulder and her smile turned sour. “Creep alert. I gotta run anyway. I don’t want to be late for my first day of work. Bye, Luci. I’ll talk to you soon and thanks for everything,” she added, subconsciously pinching the guardian angel charm around her neck with two fingers.

Julia disappeared into the current of liberated students as Sergeant Cromwell and Charlie Worth arrived at the same time and approached Luci from behind.

“Where are you headed right now, Luci?” asked the gruff sergeant.

“I was heading back to the station to do some paperwork and take a few reports. Why? What’s up?”

“Negative. Charlie will do that. I need you to come to the office for an intervention with me,” answered Cromwell.

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Seriously? That’s what I was called for. Now you want Luci to handle this while I go take reports?”

Cromwell faced his patrolman. “Yes, and I need you to do that right now. Every time someone waits too long at the station, I get an earful from the chief. So disappear and thank you very much,” he added, signaling the end of the discussion.

Charlie held up his hands in surrender. “You’re the boss. I’ll go talk with housewives about loud noises and suspicious neighbors. Good luck, Luci,” he said sarcastically.

“Let’s go to the office,” barked Cromwell.

Handfuls of students waved and greeted Luci as the two walked down the hall side by side. Several hugged her warmly while others were deterred by Cromwell’s presence.

“I see you’ve been here before,” he remarked, his eyes looking straight forward. “You’ve got a connection with these kids that you can’t put a price on. Good work, Luci.”

She took the compliment in stride and, deep down inside, felt validated by the recognition. She did have a meaningful connection with these kids and it wasn’t an accident. It was the result of hard work, a constant presence, and a genuine interest in their lives. Relationship building requires time and trust; Luci had put in the time and earned the trust.

“What’s the intervention?” she asked.

“A fight in the cafeteria, not the first one for this kid. The other kid may have been seriously injured. We can arrest him or work it out some other way to save his record. Considering his pedigree, I doubt it’ll matter, but he gets the same chance as every other kid.”

Pedigree?

When they reached the door to the main office, Luci grabbed Cromwell by the elbow and took him aside. “Maybe you should let me handle this, Sarge. Two uniforms may be too much and I do pretty well on my own.”

Cromwell pondered the idea for a moment and shook his head. “I’d feel better if we both went in, Luci. This kid’s a troublemaker and way too big to pick up and spank over your knee if he gets out of line,” he answered.

“I wasn’t planning on doing any spanking today, but I do need the kid to talk to me. Which is much easier without your lovable presence. Besides, I can handle myself.”

Cromwell ran a hand over his bald head. “Fine. It’s all yours. But if you feel it’s not going well, just put the cuffs on him and bring him into the station, okay? He gets one chance. One. I have to prepare for a planning meeting for the Fourth of July events anyway. Brief me later.”

Seventy-three

“William Lundgren?” asked Luci.

“Junior. William Lundgren, Jr. The son,” the principal explained.

“Ahh, right. Wonderful.”

Great. The father is a complete jackass and the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“I know. And I feel the same way. But it’s important not to make kids pay for their parents’ transgressions,” offered the principal. “Transgression” was a euphemism for the outspoken racism and small-mindedness of William Lundgren, Sr. His worldview was obviously shared by others in town, considering the hits and comments that his vitriolic videos garnered online. But the older Lundgren stood out due to his brazen willingness to express his views to the world and put his name on them.

“Agreed. Where is he?” Luci asked.

“Follow me. He’s in my office.”

They walked past the staff and into the principal’s spacious office. William was sitting alone at a table when they entered.

“William, I’m sure you know Officer Alvarez,” the principal began.

He looked up at the adults and muttered something incomprehensible. Luci made mental notes. The kid was well over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds.

Bloodshot eyes. Enlarged pupils. Slurred speech. This kid’s not all there.

“Hi, William. Can you tell me what happened?” she asked, sitting across the table from the young man.

He stared at the table and made no response.

“William, Officer Alvarez is here to help you but—” began the administrator.

Lundgren laughed out loud and shook his head. “That’s what you think. Someone else might have helped, but she’s going to lock me up as soon as she hears the other kid’s name. Go ahead, tell her his name and see what happens. Go ahead.”

“You’re not being fair and this is a serious matter,” the principal said as he turned to face Luci. “Witnesses say William threw the first punch without any provocation. The other student’s parents are taking him for x-rays to make sure his nose isn’t broken.”

“What’s the other student’s name?” asked Luci.

“Jose!” answered William. “So you wanna put the cuffs on me now? Why even talk? You people always side with each other … ” His voice trailed off toward the end.

Luci breathed deeply and kept her cool in the face of William’s racist comments. The kid had just been in a fight. She assumed he was upset and saying things he normally wouldn’t say, but given his home life she was unsure. The principal jumped in before he could continue.

“William, whether you believe it or not, Officer Alvarez is here to help you. Insulting her isn’t going to help your case at all.”

A secretary popped her head into the office. “Sir, Jose’s parents are on the phone from the hospital.”

“William, get your act together. Officer, I’ll be right back. Please continue.”

Luci jotted down a few observations in her notebook and waited for the young man to speak. After several moments, she broke the silence.

“Can you tell me what happened, William? So far it sounds like a lot of people witnessed you assaulting another student. Do you want to explain your actions? Justify them? Apologize for them? It’s entirely up to you how we handle this.”

Nothing.

“I’ll give you a few more minutes to think about it. But right now, you leave me with no choice but to arrest you for assault and battery. I don’t know how the courts will process you. You’re about to graduate. Believe me, you don’t want a violent charge stapled to every job application you ever fill out. And I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

William glanced at the open door behind him and a smirk slowly appeared on his face. He chuckled and uttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“Is this funny, William? What did you just say? Would you care to let me in on the joke?” she asked.

He bowed his head, cleared his throat, and stared at her from the top of his eye sockets. “I said, punch a spic—talk to the chick.”

She masked her reaction with a straight face and continued. “William, that’s offensive and I won’t tolerate it. If you keep it up, I’ll have no choice but to arrest you and bring you to the station. I don’t want that. You don’t want that. Your parents don’t want that. So let’s try one more time. Do you want to tell me your side of the story?”

This time he yelled it. “Punch a spic—talk to the chick!”

Luci held up her hand at the two male teachers who appeared in the doorway, signaling to them that everything was under control. They nodded and went on their way. After another moment of silence, Luci concluded that William was either too angry or too high to be reasoned with. She stood up and pushed her chair back against the wall.

“Okay. You’ve had your chance. Now this is what’s going to happen. I need you to slowly stand up, turn around, and put your hands on top of your head. You’re under arrest, William.” Luci pressed the transmit button on the radio attached to her shoulder. “Control, this is 307, I need immediate backup at the high school.”

The boy began to laugh hysterically.

“This is not a joke, William. Do it now or you’ll have disorderly conduct and resisting arrest added to your charges. Not another word. Just do it,” she ordered.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you,” he said staring directly into her dark eyes.

Before she could move out of the way, he leapt to his feet, flipped the table with both hands, and used it to ram the officer against the wall with all of his force. She crashed into the wall and fell to the floor with a loud thud. With the wind out of her, she struggled to get to her knees and draw the pepper spray from her duty belt. William had already slammed the door shut and wedged it with a chair. He ignored the men who had instantly appeared on the other side of the door’s glass window and turned toward Luci.

She held out the pepper spray, but William slapped it out of her hand before she could depress the button. He effortlessly picked her up by the front of her uniform and pinned her against the wall with the full weight of his body. She struggled futilely to break free, both feet dangling several inches off the carpet.

“You’re about to die, bitch!” he screamed.

She punched, slapped, and scratched at his face repeatedly with her left hand until he trapped it against his body. Then he wrapped his free hand around her throat and started to strangle her.

“Night, night! Go to sleep, Officer Alvarez. It’ll be over in just a few seconds,” he yelled loudly enough for the spectators, still trying desperately to open the door, to hear his intentions. He smiled at them maniacally before turning back to finish off his prey.

Blindsided by the events of the past twenty seconds, Luci realized that she was in a fight for her life against a young man who had the means and intent to kill her. She gasped for air and struggled with all she had as the lack of oxygen and adrenaline rush shook her central nervous system. She felt disassociated from her body, as if she had been standing off to the side and watching the events unfold.

She saw him smiling as he squeezed. She saw the faces in the door and wondered why they weren’t rushing into the room. She saw the ceiling fan as it rotated above her in slow motion. She thought she could hear the clock on the wall ticking as if her ear were pressed against it. She saw the camera in the corner of the room and wondered if it was recording. As it all started to fade, she saw herself draw the pistol with her right hand and point the muzzle at William’s heavy midsection. Then she saw her own eyes close as she pulled the trigger twice.

Seventy-four

Mark sat quietly in a chair on the other side of the room as the police union’s chaplain visited with Luci at the house. The chaplain did most of the talking in a soft whisper, but she occasionally stopped to listen to Luci and to glance at the stranger in the room. Luci had indicated that Mark could be privy to the conversation, but she had not introduced him. When they had finished, the chaplain nodded politely to Mark before leaving.

William Lundgren, Jr., had lost a great amount of blood and needed several hours of surgery to close the two holes made by Luci’s 9mm hollow-point bullets, but his vital organs were intact and doctors said he would recover fully, albeit slowly. The drug screen had revealed a cornucopia of prescription and illicit drugs in his system with levels indicative of regular abuse; quite possibly he might not even remember attacking the officer. Fortunately, the video and witnesses removed any doubt as to what had transpired. The young man had left Luci with no choice. Sadly, the video was not released until more than forty-eight hours after the incident, giving the
Valley Insider
and the national media plenty of time for baseless speculation.

“Of course we won’t know for sure until the investigation is complete, but for all we know, this cop could have specifically gone after the kid because of his father’s outspoken criticism of immigrants and police,” said one news anchor.

“I just don’t understand why police officers across the country are so trigger-happy. This was an unarmed child and she shot him twice in the gut. Of course we haven’t seen the tape yet, but how is it that we can trap wild animals much bigger than adolescent boys without hurting them, but this child needed to be shot twice? Or have we adjusted physical standards so much that female officers who lack the necessary restraining power rely on their guns too much?” another expert opined.

The speculation came to a screeching halt once the video became public, but the damage was done. None of the talking heads bothered to go back and correct the record; they simply cashed their checks and moved on to the next story. Luci was beside herself with grief and post-traumatic depression.

“I shot a kid, Mark. I shot a child,” she said.

“No, you didn’t. He’s not a baby. You protected yourself from a very troubled and violent young man who was going to kill you. He said so himself. People heard it. And the video is very clear that he gave you no choice. You did the only thing you could do. Nobody—I mean, nobody who matters—faults you for that. You did nothing wrong, Luci. I know it doesn’t make things easier on you, but he’s the one who made this happen, not you. You did the right thing.”

“The right thing? Shooting a kid, the right thing? I don’t know about that, Mark. Nothing feels right about this,” she cried into his shirt as she had done for days. “The whole thing fucking sucks!”

William Lundgren, Sr., had arrived at the high school at the same time as the EMTs and firemen. He had to be restrained when he learned what had happened to his son. Officers discovered two handguns when they frisked him. High schools were gun-free zones in Massachusetts. Jail time was unlikely, but the violation would certainly cost him his license and therefore his gun collection. He had initially defended his son and publicly excoriated Luci and the entire department until the video was released. He had not been heard from since.

The investigation was still open, but the remaining steps were bureaucratic in nature. The facts were all in and Officer Alvarez’s actions were deemed appropriate and justified. Even without the video, the ghastly purple and red damage to her throat and windpipe provided strong evidence of Lundgren’s intentions. Regardless, in line with department policy, she was placed on thirty days’ mandatory leave with pay and mandatory counseling. Psychological recovery would not be easy and taking away her life’s work wasn’t going to help.

Luci’s union-appointed lawyer talked her through each step of the process and what to expect, giving her strict instructions to make no statements. He urged her to give the same advice to any living family members. She had not spoken with her mother for several years but placed a call to Colombia and spoke just long enough to pass along the instructions.

If I’ve done nothing wrong, why do I feel so guilty?

Thankfully, things had quieted down outside Luci’s residence. Cromwell had ordered the whole street cordoned off to keep the fleet of media trucks and obnoxious reporters at bay. Most had left town and moved on to the next story as soon as the video was released.

Support had been overwhelming for the first few days as parades of fellow cops and well-wishers visited Luci at home. But eventually the visitors dwindled and she was left alone with her thoughts. Mark worried that things could get much worse before they got better …

He stood up and clapped his hands.

“Okay, Officer Alvarez. It’s time to move. You have to move your body so you don’t slip into a funk, okay? Why don’t we go out for a drive and maybe a bite to eat? You could use the air,” he said.

She shook her head. “My face has been plastered everywhere. I’m not like you, Mark. I’m not anonymous. When I do my job—right or wrong—everybody knows it. I don’t want to see anybody and I sure as hell don’t want to hear what anyone has to say—especially the congratulators. For God’s sake, I could have killed that kid,” she sobbed.

“Okay, okay. I have to go to the house to take care of a few things, but I promise I’ll be right back, okay?”

“I’m not a child, Mark. I can stay at home by myself without a babysitter.”

He wanted to speak but decided against it. He kissed her gently on the head and left her home alone.