On The Border

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

    Reid’s day started veering off course as soon as he arrived at the office that morning.  As he passed through security, Don, one of the guards, said, “Hey, Reid, Captain wants to see you soon as you get in.”

    Great, he thought.  So much for quick in and out today.  Not even stopping at his desk or the coffee machine, he walked to her office door and knocked.  “Come in,” Captain Ruth Holder called out.  Reid opened the door and passed through, his bad feeling getting worse as she added, “Close the door.”  The captain returned to the report on her desk, but Reid knew she wouldn’t keep him waiting for effect or as a power play.  She’d be with him in a moment or two.  He looked across the desk at her, a rugged looking woman a few decades older than he was.  She was a simple, no-frills kind of woman.  Her wall was covered with awards as many public servants’ were, but a closer look revealed what she thought worth noting.  Medals for marksmanship, commendations for case clearing rates, and awards for handling complex investigations.  There was none of the usual “ego wall,” no pictures of her posed with politicians or celebrities. 

    Captain Holder closed the file folder on her desk and leaned back in her chair.  She took the reading glasses from her nose, letting them hang down on the simple line around her neck.  She smoothed back her graying hair and looked at Reid.  “That was hard, what you did.  It was the right thing, and I’m proud to have a man like you in my command.”  Reid opened his mouth to thank her, and she held up a hand.  “But we both know politics and connections have an ugly side, even here.  Reid, I won’t bullshit you.  You’re being reassigned to a multi-agency task force, effective immediately.”

    Reid felt a burning in his stomach and sat there for a minute before saying, “That’s not right, Captain.”

    She nodded.  “No, it isn’t.  But some of the weasels here have been bitching to every friend they have, calling in favors.  We both know what you did doesn’t make you many friends.  So, you get moved.  I’ve already made a few calls, and there’s nothing I can do.  I’m sorry, Reid.  You’re a good man.”  She stood up and held her hand out.  He rose and shook it.

    “Thanks.  I know you tried.  And I hope I get back here.  You’re a good boss.”

    “I wish I could have done more.”  She reached down behind her desk and brought up an empty box.  “Least I can do is give you something for your stuff.  Details on your new assignment are on your desk.  I really am sorry, John.” 

    Somewhat stunned, John carried his box back to his desk.  He was always careful to keep the top of his desk neat, even if he was often behind on some of the forms and reports.  Now, the middle of his desk was taken up by two things: a folded up newspaper, showing an article on the Dalton trail, with the one quote Reid had given to a reporter about his investigation, “I just tried to do the right thing.”; the other, very carefully centered on his desktop, was a brand new Stetson, gleaming white. 

    “Ok, ok, I get it,” he muttered, irritation showing through.  He quickly packed up his few belongings, never having really been one for bringing personal items to work.  A picture of his father, one of him as a boy looking up at his parents, and a few random things that always seem to accumulate in any given desk.  All the while, the hat gnawed at him, and finally, he stood up, box in hand.  “All right,” he said, loudly.  All noise stopped in the office.  “You won.  I’m being transferred.  You don’t like what I did?  Says more about you than me.  You think I should be sorry for stopping someone from abusing the badge, making us all look bad?  I think that makes you wrong, not me.”  He flipped his old hat into the box, and picked up the new one, settling it on his head.  “White hat is supposed to be the good guy.  I get the joke.  But if I’m the good guy, and so many of you are having a problem with what I did, what does that make YOU?”  He picked up his box and walked out.