Badge of Betrayal

Floyd Franklin retired? Jesus! Floyd was a Captain and Chief Deputy. He had been second-in-command after the Sheriff and, yet, was a non-political position in the department. It would mean straight day hours, Monday-thru-Friday and would eliminate patrolling altogether. For Clarissa, it would mean not having to worry about me doing car stops and chasing bad guys like I was doing as a Deputy.

"Wow! I mean, yeah, Bud. I'll definitely consider it!" The thought of being Captain and Chief Deputy left me with hope that I could give Clarissa some good news and maybe start to thaw the ice a little with her.

"Sounds good, Pat. You take care and I'll stop to see you again real soon, okay?" He patted me on the chest one last time and left.

The next few weeks were the toughest as I began daily physical therapy sessions for about 6 hours a day. They were painful and exhausting but totally worth it. I made tremendous strides, helped by the fact that I had always been in good shape and exercised regularly at our own gym in the law enforcement center our department shared with Red River Falls PD. Soon, I had regained about 60 percent strength in my right arm and I was walking normally and even jogging on the treadmill for about 20 minutes at a time. I wasn't breaking any speed records, but I was definitely far ahead of the pace that my medical team had figured shortly after the shooting.

Clarissa continued to piss me off with her sporadic visits. Too often, she wouldn't bring the boys for one reason or another and I was only getting to see them 2 or 3 times a week. I prayed like hell that I would finally get the word to be discharged so I could go home and spend time with my boys and get to the bottom of why my marriage seemed to be sinking like a damned rock.

Shannon, however, became a life saver. She still stopped in to see me almost every night when her shift in the ICU ended and she brought Bridget in to see me at least twice a week when Shannon wasn't working. Other than my boys, I almost looked forward to seeing Shannon and Bridget more than Clarissa. At least their visits never ended with a stupid, pointless argument.

Finally, Dr Slattery gave me the news that I had been waiting to hear -- I was finally going to get to go home. It was a Friday afternoon and I would be discharged the following morning.

I couldn't wait to give Clarissa, Nick and Jake the good news. When they arrived after school was out, the boys were ecstatic. Clarissa? Not so much.

"Oh, crap!" Clarissa said after getting the news.

"Why? I figured you'd be happy," I said.

"The house is a total disaster right now, Patrick. I have a million things to do before you come home, clothes to clean, groceries to pick up. I thought they were going to give us a better idea of when you were ready to leave," she said frustrated.

"Who gives a shit what the house looks like? I couldn't care less! I'm just thrilled to finally get to come home to my family!"

Clarissa let out a long sigh. "Boys, why don't you two give me and your dad a minute and go hang out in the waiting room and watch TV?"

"Sure, Mom," Nick said dejectedly. Both boys were old enough and smart enough to know when an argument was coming.

Clarissa stood in front of me with her arms folded while I sat on the edge of the bed. "Is there any possibility they can discharge you tomorrow afternoon or Sunday?" she asked point blank.

I was stunned and actually had to blink my eyes a couple of times. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I demanded. "Why in the hell are you not looking forward to me coming home? Why are you so interested in keeping me here? What the fuck is going on?"

Clarissa's shell started to crack and I saw tears forming in her eyes. "You know, life doesn't just stop because you're in the hospital, Patrick!" she stormed. "There are chores to do on the farm, boys to take care of, meals to fix, bills to get paid! And every time I come visit you there is always some sexually-charged remark from you about getting it on right here and right now, as if that is the only thing you care about! Have you ever stopped to consider what it has been like for me the past seven weeks? Do you know or care how it has been for the boys?"

"No, I don't," I replied in a sarcastic tone. "I guess that is probably because I only ever see you and the boys a couple of times a week since I got in here. I have friends that stop to see me more than my own family does. And have you forgotten how the fuck I actually GOT here, Clarissa? Oh, that's right! I almost got my ass shot off protecting a little girl!"

Shannon just stood there shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. "Yes, Patrick" she said, sniffing. "I know how you got here. We all know how you got here. That's all the boys and I have been hearing about for the last seven weeks. I don't need you to remind me of that every day, Patrick."

"Impossible," I said coolly. "You're only here a couple of times a week. So I can't remind you every day," I said sarcastically.

"Fine. Fine," she said grabbing her purse. "Just let me know when you'll be coming home."

"I already told you," I said, pissed. Clarissa turned and started walking out of my room. "I'll be home tomorrow morning. Come hell or high water, I'm getting the fuck out of here tomorrow morning. If you're not here, I'll call somebody else to bring me home," I called out after her as she left.

I knew she could still hear me but she said nothing. In my room, I sat alone on the bed and just hung my head in defeat. I had come all the way back from death's door. And now, as badly as I wanted to leave this hospital, I was beginning to dread the idea of going home. Those two fucked up meth heads nearly took my life. It appeared the whole ordeal was going to take my marriage and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Only moments after Clarissa left, a shadow appeared in the doorway. I looked up and saw Shannon's angelic form in the threshold.

"I'm so sorry, Patrick. I didn't mean to eavesdrop or anything, but..." her voice trailed off.

I couldn't help but smile. "Don't worry. You did nothing wrong," I assured her. "Just a lot of stress over the last couple of months is starting to boil over. Do you wanna sit down or anything?" I asked as I stood up.

"Um, no, I probably should get going home. Just wanted to stop and say hi before I pick up Bridget from my Mom and Dad's place," she said, finally managing a smile.

I quickly filled an awkward gap. "Hey! Did you hear the good news? I'm finally getting out of here tomorrow."

She gasped. "Oh, my God! That is so amazing! When? I wanna make sure Bridget is here to see you off!"

"Some time tomorrow morning, maybe around ten or so. At least that's what Dr Slattery said this morning."

"Wow! Finally getting to fly the coop. I'm sure your boys will be so happy to have their dad back home," she said.

"Yeah, I can't wait. Gonna be great to ride horses again, get back to work. Of course, I still have a lot of physical therapy yet. But the Sheriff said I could come back on light duty when I'm ready," I said anxiously.

"I'm so happy for you, Patrick. I am so incredibly happy," she said. I could see her eyes start to glisten as tears of happiness started to well up. What the hell is it with me making women cry these days? "Well, I'm sure you've gotta get ready for your big day tomorrow. I better go pick up my little munchkin."

Shannon put down her jacket and reached out to hug me. Her body seemed to melt into mine as we embraced and I can't remember the last time hugging someone felt so good. The warmth of her body and the scents of her hair and light perfume created a haze of bliss for me that I didn't want to end. We held each other tight for what seemed like an incredibly long time, each of us not wanting to let the other one go. It came to the point where it started to feel awkward to keep hugging and, yet, it would have felt more awkward and uncomfortable to let go.

I cocked my head slightly to the side so I could whisper in her ear. "Thank you, Shannon. For everything. I wouldn't have made it through this without you."

Shannon returned the sentiment by whispering in my own ear, "No. Thank YOU, Patrick. You saved my little girl. I owe you a debt I can never repay in my life time."

The feel of her breath against the skin of my neck and ear was electric and shot up and down my spine, literally standing my hair on end. I gave her one last squeeze to hold her tighter, which only made her cling to me tighter, too.

We both sensed it was time and simultaneously eased our embrace. As we slowly pulled away from each other, Shannon gently cupped my face in her hands and kissed me gently on my left cheek.

"Good bye and good night, Patrick. I'll see you in the morning."

She left the room but the scent of her was a presence there long after she was gone. I could barely concentrate the rest of the evening as I packed up my few belongings that I had with me. I at least had set of black Minnesota Vikings sweats that I could wear when I left in the morning. And as much as I should have been anticipating the moment tomorrow when I got to leave, all I could think about was Shannon. Anticipation gripped me the rest of the night and very little sleep came my way.

At 9:30 the next morning, I was greeted by the entire nursing staff of my floor that was there along with a wheelchair. Brian, my steadfast nurse for the past umpteen weeks, was there to chauffeur me from my room to the front of the hospital.

As we made our way down to the cavernous lobby and main entrance to the hospital, I was stunned to see several hundred well-wishers there to see me off. My entire medical team was there as was the entire Mason County Sheriff's Department and Red River Falls Police Department, save for those who were actually on duty. A parade of police cruisers from both departments, as well as two fire trucks from Red River Falls Fire Department, was there to escort me to the city limits. Sheriff Bud Roberts was waiting with his department-issued Chevy Suburban, along with Clarissa, Nick and Jake, to take me home.

Waiting near the Suburban were Shannon and Bridget. I stood from my wheelchair and picked up Bridget for one last big hug, while dozens of photographers and videographers from the local media captured the moment.

Bud, of course, shook my hand and was all smiles for the camera. Clarissa did her best to play the part, too, but Nick and Jake actually were genuinely happy to see me. Clarissa immediately turned and climbed in the front passenger seat next to Bud while I took the back seat with my boys taking a spot on either side of me.

The cavalcade of police and fire trucks, with lights flashing and sirens blaring, took off from the hospital with well-wishers lining both sides of the lane extending from the main entrance all the way to Enterprise Avenue, the main drag that follows US Highway 120 through Red River Falls.

I looked over my shoulder, happy to have Holy Family Regional Medical Center getting smaller in my sight. We turned right on US Highway 120 and headed south towards the direction of home.

Even away from the hospital there were still small groups of well-wishers holding signs, flags and banners. I was overwhelmed with emotion by the outpouring of support. Nick and Jake did their best to point out each and every one of them so I wouldn't miss a thing. As we approached the high school campus on the south side of Red River Falls, the police cars and fire trucks peeled off into the parking lot and Bud continued onward towards home.

"Well, how does the hero feel today?" Bud asked, looking at me in his rearview mirror.

"Better than I deserve," I smiled back. "I can't thank you enough for everything, Bud. I really appreciate you bringing my family to me today."

"Oh, there was nothing to it, Pat. It was the least I could do." He smiled at Clarissa, who smiled back, and then returned his gaze to the road. "What did you think about all the people who turned out? That was really something, wasn't it?"

"Unbelievable," I replied. "How in the world did everyone know I was getting out today? That's the part I can't figure out. I know word travels fast, but not THAT fast."

"It was on the website, Dad," Nick replied.

"You know," Jake answered. "The one they set up for you."

I was puzzled. I knew nothing about any website.

"It's called 'Caring Bridge'," Nick informed me. "They set it up to tell everybody how you were doing after you got hurt."

"Did you set that up, Clarissa?" I asked.

"No, Danny Larson and some of the others did," she answered.

"There's even a Facebook page, Dad!" Jake said proudly. "You got over 100,000 'likes' and over 10,000 comments from people!"

Wow! Well, this is the internet age. I wasn't sure how I felt about total strangers knowing about my medical progress, but I was genuinely warmed and touched by the outpouring of care and concern.

About ten miles south of Red River Falls Bud turned the big SUV west onto Rattlesnake Road, the gravel road our acreage was on. The scenery all looked intimately familiar and I anticipated the next hill and our small farm that lay just beyond. The sight of our house was like seeing an old friend for the first time in ages. Even the older outbuildings and hay shed were welcome sights.

Bud pulled the Suburban up to the old outbuilding with sliding doors that currently served as our garage. It was almost 80 years old but still had good bones and kept the snow off our vehicles in the winter.

We all made our exits from the vehicle. With the boys on each side of me, I made the short walk over to the edge of the horse corral I had built and clicked my tongue several times to summon our horses to the fence. My trusty friend and favorite horse, Blackjack, made his way over to me and started to nuzzle my cheek with his nose. He gave me a few good sniffs, just to make sure I was who he thought I was. When he was satisfied, he lowered his head as usual to let me give him a good scratching of his ears, which he loved so much. With luck, my rehabilitation would continue to go well and I could still get a fair amount of horseback riding in before winter arrived with all of its frigid fury.

The boys and I spent about 10 minutes or so petting the horses before heading back up to the house.

Our farmhouse was over 80 years old, too, but still in great shape. The only major change we had to make in the few years we had lived there was replacing the old boiler with a new and more efficient one. With five bedrooms there was more than enough room for all of us and our respective hobbies.

"Well," Bud started, "I guess it is about time for me to head back home. I promised my wife I'd take her our for a nice lunch today. I'm sure you all could use the time to get settled back in."

"Thanks a lot, Bud," I said extending my hand. Bud gripped it firmly. "I really appreciate everything."

"No, Patrick. I appreciate everything YOU have done. Don't feel like you have to rush back too soon. Just focus on the rest of your rehab and getting yourself back to 100 percent. The job will take care of itself in the meantime."

"Be sure to tell Margo I said hello and that we missed her today," I said as Bud turned to go. Margo was short for Margolene. She and Bud had been married almost 25 years.

"Uh, yeah, I'll do that Patrick. She wanted me to tell you how happy she is for all of you and she'll see you real soon. She had an appointment today she couldn't miss. Otherwise she would have been there."

I didn't press for information and Bud left without much fanfare.

"Well, I'm gonna go start getting our own lunch ready," Clarissa said and disappeared into the kitchen.

I took it easy the rest of the weekend, since I knew I had a full week of rehab ahead of me and it would only get more and more intense as it went on. I had at least another month of it ahead of me before I could get back to work full time, and even that was an optimistic schedule. But I had beaten the odds so far and I was determined to this time, as well.

Clarissa and I were cordial with one another, but otherwise it was business as usual. I tried to initiate lovemaking several times but it was a barrage of excuses as always. She was either having a bad day with her low testosterone symptoms and just wasn't feeling like it, was tired from a new volunteer project she had started with the Red River nature trails committee, or she was afraid that I might get hurt because of my injuries. I had to chuckle at the last excuse.

The resentment continued to build along with the tension between us. At one point, I got snippy and pissy with her over the lack of action in the bedroom again and told her I was sick of all the excuses.

"Well, I'm soooo sorry that you feel your sexual WANTS seem to outweigh, in your mind, my overall physical health needs," she said emphatically.

I was getting tired of her shoving her ongoing low testosterone problems in my face all the time, a problem she could easily have corrected with a prescription from her doctor but chose to treat herself with "herbal" and "natural" remedies, which did nothing. She also said that there were plenty of couples out there who were married and didn't have sex that often because their focus was on their lives, jobs and kids and there wasn't anything wrong with that.

I said, "Clarissa, there are a helluva lot of couples out there who have sex MORE than we do who STILL get divorced because of a lack of sex in their marriage!"

"Well, I guess you have a decision to make then," she said and stormed off to our room.

The only outlet I had, besides an occasional sneak peak at some porn and jerking off in the shower, was going to my daily workout and physical therapy. At least getting a good workout took some of the edge and stress off.

After I had been home for a month I was allowed to go back to work on light duty, which meant being a paper pusher and assisting some of the other Deputies with their reports. I had physical therapy now three days a week for two hours in the morning and then spent the rest of the day at the Sheriff's Office.

Along with several other Deputies in the department and several outside candidates, I ended up submitting my packet to be considered for the Captain and Chief Deputy position that had been vacated by Floyd Franklin. The packets were reviewed by a committee of personnel from various departments around the county and the city. I knew that my college degrees in criminal justice and psychology, as well as my military service, would make me a formidable candidate. Having saved Bridget wasn't going to hurt me, either.

The committee took two weeks to consider all the applications, during which each candidate had to sit in front of the committee to answer a battery of questions during a panel interview. Some of the questions were tough and pointed, others were kind of laughable. Sometimes, when you bring in personnel who have zero law enforcement experience to interview an actual law enforcement officer, some of the questions you get are clearly based on what that individual has seen on TV and in movies. But they all meant well and did their very best to choose a candidate.

In the end, the selection committee selected who they believed was the best candidate and submitted the name to Sheriff Roberts who made the final decision.

I was working on organizing some old reports on a Monday after I had gotten to work following rehab. I was just getting settled into a day's worth of boring and mind-numbing work when Bud came out of his office.

"Hey, Pat. What're you working on?" Bud asked.

I let out a long sigh and gave Bud a weak smile. "Just taking some of these old hand-written reports and entering them digitally into the new system."