Somewhere along the line, the chapter in Harlan lost its way. Rather than being about encouraging and supporting the next generation of leaders and influencers in society, they became a frightening pack of imposing, generally wealthy, men who literally wielded the power of life and death over those around them. They created blood pacts that bonded them together. They saw it as creating loyalty and strength. In reality, it was nothing but a savage series of killings designed to promote servitude and fear among those not in the highest tier of the hierarchy.
I haven’t seen much of my father in the last several months because of his work, even missing the holidays with him, so I’m glad to have at least a couple of weeks. Even if it does mean being away from Sam. That’s the only thing that gives me pause. I hate being away from him. But as sheriff of the small town of Sherwood where we live, he can’t just leave for long stretches of time. They need him there to keep order and protect the people and community he loves.
He’s planning to come when the baby is born, but right now he’s saving up his time off as much as possible. With our wedding sometime in the near future, his sights are set on a long honeymoon when we can just disentangle ourselves from the rest of the world and be together.
It sounds like heaven. But one thing at a time.
I listen as he updates me on everything going on in town. It’s only been a few days since I left, but it feels as if I’m missing everything. Fortunately, that doesn’t include a tremendous amount of crime. For the most part, Sherwood is an incredibly safe, wonderful place to live. It has the smaller crimes you’d expect in any small town: theft, bar fights, vandalism, disorderly conduct, traffic issues. Then there are the more difficult situations he sometimes has to deal with, such as domestic violence and other abuse. Serious crimes like murder are rare, but it was just that situation that brought me back after seven years away from the town where I spent more of my unpredictable childhood than anywhere else.
Right now, there isn’t anything that dramatic happening around town. His update focuses more on the people and everything they’re up to.
“Bianca is really looking forward to your class at the community center,” Sam says. “She’s gotten a lot of interest for it.”
“We don’t even know exactly what the class is going to be about,” I say.
“It doesn’t matter. People want to hear from you. They are interested in your experiences and expertise. Whenever the sign up goes live, I have a feeling all these slots are going to fill up quickly. Maybe you’ll have to start teaching several classes there.”
“How did I start today as an FBI agent and finish it as a mentor and schoolteacher?” I groan.
Sam laughs. “If there’s anybody in this world who can pull that off, it’s you.”
“I think that’s a compliment. If it’s not, don’t tell me. Just let Bianca know I’m finalizing a couple of different courses and I’ll show the options to her once the baby gets here. Then we can figure out when to actually offer the class.”
I’ve been working with the director of the Sherwood Community Center for several months now with putting together a class I can teach. We haven’t been able to nail down exactly what I’m teaching, whether it will be basics of criminal justice or more focused on true crime and the cases I’ve worked. Either way, it’s important to me to include elements of self-defense and safety. Especially for people living in a small town with little crime, they can get lulled into a sense of complacency and think nothing bad could ever happen to them.
Unfortunately, I know for a fact that’s not the case. Awful things can happen anywhere, and it’s critical to be as prepared as possible to respond when they do.
I’ve never particularly understood the common saying that bad things happen when you least expect them. That’s not always true. Some people know when they are in danger and will need to be able to protect themselves. As for the others, of course, they don’t expect it. That makes it even more important to be armed with knowledge and skill that can bring a terrifying and disorienting situation a bit more under control.
My investigations have forced me to delay the class a couple of times, so at least it’s good to hear Bianca hasn’t given up on me.
“How about you? How are you? I miss you,” I say.
“I miss you, too. It’s hard here fending for myself.”
I laugh. This is coming from the man who has lived his entire adult life unmarried and on his own. Not to mention one who has a freezer full of meals and cinnamon rolls ready to put in the oven whenever his heart desires.
“I think you’ll survive.”
“Are you almost back at your dad’s place?”
“I have to stop at the store really fast, then I’ll be there. I’m actually about to pull into the parking lot.”
“Alright. I’ll call you tonight. I love you.”
“I love you.”
We get off the phone and I take a second to let myself be sad. It isn’t as if Sam and I are never apart. When I’m on a case, I might be gone for several days at a time. But this feels different. There’s an open-ended element to it that makes it even harder to be
