Recovery
Chapter 7
Journal of John Nolan
Grey laughed at me. That sonofabitch actually laughed at me. After sweating bullets on my disciplinary exam, I scored a 98. He wouldn't tell me what I got wrong, but I'll probably figure it out. When I suggested that an almost perfect score should be worth something if I tried for detective, he laughed in my face. So I'm on plan B. No, it's probably plan D by now.
I figure I'm a pretty good teacher. I was patient enough to get Henry through all his scout badges. I helped Lila with art until she turned to music. And, with advice from Tamar, I've been doing pretty well helping the neighbors around the community policing center put things back together. I even taught Jackson how to spackle.
Maybe I was meant to be a training officer. Harper seems to think it's a good idea. So does Tamar, although other than being friends with Luna, she doesn't know much about police work.
The only thing is that without a college degree, it will take me four years to become a T.O. With my reprimand, it could even take longer. But if I go back to school, it would take half as long.
I was pretty close to graduation when I dropped out to marry Sarah. Pre-law should have a lot of overlap with Criminal Justice. At least, I hope so. If I can transfer my credits, maybe I can finish my degree in a year. That would get me to T.O. in three. That's not bad. And since I'll be closing in on 50, I can save my old bones by getting a rookie to do all the running. And when the citizenry assumes that my graying hair means I'm in charge, they'll finally be right. I'm already looking into courses.
I found one about crime and ethics. It sounds like what I need – or at least what Grey might think I need. Attending class is going to make for some very long days and nights. The irony is that I may have to spend less time studying for my classes than I did for my disciplinary exam. That was every night, break, and any other minute I could spare. At least school will give me a couple of nights off.
What I wish the professor would teach is how to get rid of a bad cop. You would think that with everything Stanton did, the department would have fired him. No such luck. He's on administrative leave, but he's fighting that tooth and nail. The good news is that Jackson has a new training officer. The bad news is that it's Wrigley. Lucy's account of her time with him wasn't exactly glowing. It will be for less than a month, so I don't know how much damage that will do. I doubt Wrigley will get Jackson killed. From what Lucy said, he does everything he can to keep his own butt out of the range of fire. But Jackson isn't going to learn much either. Maybe Stanton was more instruction than he needed. That bastard is the perfect example of everything a cop shouldn't be. I hope the L.A.P.D. takes the lesson.
I'm also hoping that I can spend some time with Tamar on the nights I'm not in class. So far, we haven't gone beyond sharing a meal – actually more like sharing a snack. But I could see it going further. I feel more comfortable with her than I have with a woman in a long time.
Lucy and I always had tension between us. I wanted to take things further, and she wanted to pull back. As hot as things were in bed, she still said she wanted to keep our relationship casual. I should have believed her. Even with Emmett, I think her job comes first. There's nothing wrong with that. It just couldn't work with me.
I don't even want to think about Jessica and Grace. They both lied to me, with Grace telling the more gut-wrenching lie. Sometimes I wonder if she was ever serious about divorcing her husband. Well, that chapter is over. Tamar is a new one. I hope it will be a long one, or maybe become a book. If I'm lucky, I can fit in a date with her before I start classes. Tonight I might actually get a full night's sleep. It would be great to close my eyes without seeing the rookie handbook.
I'm looking forward to trying.
John's eyes force themselves open as his cellphone rings. His alarm hasn't gone off yet, but according to his caller ID, Jackson is awake. "What's happening, man?"
"I just got a call from Grey giving me a heads up about Stanton. The department isn't firing him, or at least not now."
"Firing him?" John repeats. "They should turn him over to the D.A. for prosecution. The last time I checked, which was less than 24 hours ago, planting evidence is a crime."
John can hear Jackson's grunt through the phone. "You know I agree with you, Bro, but the union is trying to get him put back on the job."
"What will you do if he's on the streets again?" John asks.
"I don't know," Jackson admits. "Right now, I'm hoping I won't have to find out. See you later?"
"Yeah," John replies. "We'll figure something out. How are things going with Wrigley?"
"I'm learning more than I ever wanted to know about ticketing drivers for rolling stops. But he's fair. He treats everyone the same. Almost everyone. He let off one guy who was driving his wife to the hospital. She looked like she was going to drop a kid any minute. And we gave the car an escort too."
"Protect and serve, right? There isn't much more protection than getting a kid safely born. I think I would have done the same thing," John guesses. "I'm pretty sure I would. I remember when Sarah was in labor. I would have run every light in town to get her to the hospital. Of course, there were only two of them, and as it turned out, they were green anyway. But some things have to take priority. The problem is getting the department – and Grey – to agree on which ones."
"I know what you mean," Jackson agrees. "Wrigley isn't exactly the bravest cop on the force, but I think he's got his values as a human, straight. I'm starting to find out how rare that can be."
"Yeah, me too." Nolan's alarm goes off. "Time to get moving. Hang in there, Jackson. Things with Stanton will work out."
"Yeah, I hope so."
As Jackson hangs up, John forces himself out of bed. Tamar said she had a multi-church organizing meeting this morning. She'll be up early too, but he doesn't know how early. With any luck, he can reach her before roll call. If Harper's in a good mood, he might even get a chance to phone from the shop, but he's not holding his breath.
Lila just started learning the trumpet. If that's anything like when Henry started learning the bugle for a merit badge, Harper might have spent the evening gritting her teeth. Or it might have been one of Donovan's nights with Lila. If John wants to gauge his training officer's mood, he should keep better track of her parenting schedule. He makes a mental note to set up an app on his phone to do just that and heads for the shower. Roll call will come too soon.
