I hope you guys enjoy my little Valentine fic! Please review!
Valentine answered the phone purely by coincidence. He was walking past the front desk on his way to his office when the phone rang. Instead of ignoring it he picked it up.
"Kembleford Police,"
"Help me!"
The voice of a small child rang out over the line. The hair on the back of Valentine's neck prickled. "Can you tell me where you are?"
The child could only sob. In the background he could hear a man's voice, and possibly a different set of sobs. He couldn't be sure. He gripped the phone tighter.
"My mummy!" More sobs.
"Your mum? Can you tell me what's happening?"
Then, the line went dead.
"Hello? Hello!"
Valentine hung up the phone and stood for a moment, unsure of what to do. Just then, one of his sergeants burst through the door. "Shots fired on Cross street, sir."
Valentine sprinted into his office and unlocked his gun from he cabinet. He buckled on his holster, and slid the gun inside as he filed out of the station along with the other policemen. Sirens blared as he made his way to Cross street. Other police cars had arrived before him, but they waited for their commanding officer's orders.
He stood from the car and announced over the mega phone for the occupants to come out. There was silence. Valentine waited for one minute. He was about to call out again when another shot rang out. Before anyone could do anything the front door opened. On instinct every weapon trained in the direction of the house.
Valentine's heart thumped wildly, unsure of what to expect next.
And then...
"Weapons down!" Valentine bellowed as he ran towards the house.
A child, a little girl came stumbling out of the house. Valentine holstered his weapon just before he scooped her up in his arms and ran back to his patrol car. He waved his men inside the house. He looked the little girl over as he sat her in the passenger seat of his car.
"What's your name?" he asked.
Only silent tears fell. He assumed she had to be around five years old.
"Did you call the police?"
He waited a moment and finally she nodded.
"That's very brave of you, you know. Can you tell me your name?"
The little girl leapt from the car and back into Valentine's arms. His eyes went wide as he was forced with no choice but to support the clinging child. He swayed back and forth until one of his officers came out of the house.
"Not good, sir. It appears-"
Valentine held up a forceful hand silencing him.
"I'm going to set you back inside the car, alright? You'll be safe in there I promise."
He placed her in the car and lead the officer away.
"It appears to be a murder-suicide. The wife was found in the bedroom, and the husband was found in the kitchen with the gun beside him. She appears to be their only child." The officer indicated the little girl who was now staring in their direction.
"Right," Valentine breathed. "Who are they?"
"There's some post addressed to a Mr. and Mrs. Greene,"
"Alright." He tossed a hand through his hair. His blue eyes looked tired. Out of all his years in Kembleford nothing like this had ever happened on his watch. "Stay with the girl. I'm going to walk to scene,"
The officer started in the direction of the car while Valentine headed towards the house. It was noisy like most murder scenes, but this place held a distinct quietness. Something very tragic had happened here, and Valentine sensed it happened long before the murder took place.
It was just as the officer had said. The mother was in the bedroom, still dressed in her nightgown. She was lying next to the door. Like she was trying to get away. The little girl's bedroom was across the hall. Her bed appeared slept in, but apart from that it seemed unremarkable.
He walked the rest of the house. His heart tugged a bit seeing the pictures of the family smiling in frames. He had to remind himself to stay objective. This was just another case.
"Sir!"
Valentine's head shot up at the sound of his officer's voice. It was only then that he realized he could hear crying.
"Sir, she's frantic. We can hardly control her,"
The inspector peeled off his gloves and stepped outside. Two officers were trying to restrain the girl to keep her from running.
"Let her go!" Valentine called.
At the sound of his voice her head snapped up, and she freed herself of the officer's loosened grip. Her little feet carried her straight to the grizzled inspector where she clung to his leg. He lifted her into his arms.
"Shh," he said to her.
Her crying eased as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
"I'm going to take her back to the station and call for a social worker."
On the ride Valentine eyed her in the backseat. She stared out the window with a blank expression. It rocked the experienced policeman to his soul. He'd never seen a child with such a vacant stare.
He lead her by the hand into the police station and into his office.
"Are you hungry?"
She squeezed his hand but made no other gesture.
He paused. Not much here except coffee. He did the only thing he knew to do. He called Mrs. McCarthy. As much as he didn't need the nosy old woman poking around, if she brought Father Brown maybe he could get through to the girl.
Less than an hour later the priest and Mrs. M knocked on his office door. Father Brown could get nothing out of the poor child except a small grin when he offered her a piece of candy. Mrs. M brought her a sandwhich and a cold pitcher of lemonade. He watched as they left and then checked his watch. The social worker should be here soon.
Throughout the day officers came and went. At half past four Valentine called to check in on getting a social worker. He was told that they no longer had any available. The worker who was heading to Kembleford went into labor and had to be rushed to hospital.
"What am I supposed to do? I've got a traumatized child here!"
"Is one of your WPCs available?"
"This is the country, Ma'am. There are no WPCs."
They promised to have a social worker there in the morning to pick her up, but in the meantime Valentine was on his own. He gave Mrs. M another call, begrudgingly, and she agreed to keep the girl overnight.
Valentine studied the child in front of him. She was cozied up in a chair in he corner of his office. Her blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ear. He crouched in front of her.
"Do you remember Mrs. M from eariler today?"
She nodded.
"Well, you're going to go stay at her home with her tonight until we can find somewhere safe for you to go,"
Tears sprang in her eyes. She shook her head violently.
"No!"
Valentine was taken back. It was the first thing he'd heard her say all day.
"I-"
"No! I want to stay here! I want to stay with you!"
She flung herself at him again, and he held her.
I need a cigarette, he thought to himself. Or maybe five. Packs.
He sighed. Just for one night.
"Okay, okay. It's alright. I'll call Mrs. M and tell her you're staying with me,"
That night Valentine made up the couch for his little guest. He crouched in front of her to tell her goodnight.
"You sleep tight, alright. I'll be right through that door," He pointed to his bedroom.
She nodded. Her blonde hair hung down into her eyes. "Goodnight," she whispered meekly.
Valentine's mouth turned up into a smile, "Goodnight little one. I'll be here in the morning."