Chapter 10 - Bus

Our squadron climbed onto the bus after lunch to head to our traffic duty. The bus was packed and I was one of the last to get on, so I sat in the front. The cadets were carrying on loudly and I could hear a Walkman or two blasting through their headphones a short distance behind me. The rumor mill was in full swing and it was impossible to even hear myself think. Suddenly, Lieutenant Harris entered the bus and promptly sat down next to me. I gaped over at him, feeling the heat from his thigh as it touched mine.

While I continued to try to understand what had just happened, Harris placed his good hand on the back of the bus seat in front of us and glanced over at me without saying a word, a sly little smile on his face. I held my breath for what seemed like a minute. Perhaps it stemmed from the shock I felt at having him blatantly plop down next to me on a bus with plenty of open seats.

Even though Callahan was wearing her sunglasses as she stood at the front of the bus, she stared down at Harris as he continued to sit next to me without any sign of leaving or that he'd made a mistake. Eventually, when he refused to even acknowledge her stare of death, she sat down in an empty seat somewhere behind us and we headed to the city.

The ride to our destination was not long at all, but it was very tense. The seatbacks were high enough that it was not obvious that Harris and I were actually shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. Besides, everyone on the bus was wearing the same uniform, including our identical police hats. Maybe Harris had been smart to sit with me at this time. That way, he could blend in better.

"Hi," I murmured to him, finally getting the courage to do so. He'd apparently just escaped getting canned and I didn't want to make another chance for it to happen again. I wanted very badly to ask him if this was how it would be from now on—not trying to hide our relationship. Even so, I didn't know where Callahan was sitting behind us and didn't want to say too much, so I waited for him to say something.

"You ready for the real world of a cop, Carnegie?" he muttered, nudging me with his arm sling. "'Cause this is it."

"I think so," I said, trying not to stammer as I felt his elbow against my arm. I turned my head towards him at an angle and really got a good look at him—his legs, his hands, even the buttons on his uniform. It felt so freeing to be able to just look at the guy in public, though I was still worried. Hopefully the one good thing that would come of this would be Brookstone getting the point now and leaving him the hell alone.

One thing was for sure—I knew that right after I got off this bus, I'd be bombarded with questions. Of course, now Harris wasn't vying for the position of commandant so maybe this would be his style from now on. Sitting with me was an act of defiance, but it was clear that he'd accepted that Lassard wasn't going anywhere. This most likely wouldn't help his relationship with Callahan, who had seemingly figured out Harris's role in her not getting the commandant position.


"A word, Lieutenant Harris," Callahan said, after we'd all gotten off the bus. Damn. It looked like he was in trouble. I knew it.

"Get to your stations!" Harris announced to the cadets as he moved towards the blonde woman who outranked him. "Wait for our next instruction!"

Here came the stampede—Mullers, Manson, and Stiner were making a beeline for me, curious smiles on their faces. I gave them a one-minute sign with my finger and moved away from the loudest of the group.

I was able to hear most of what was said between Harris and Callahan, using all my focus to follow their conversation even though all the other cadets took advantage of the strange lack of discipline today to gossip and talk loudly as they gathered in their respective groups.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Callahan directed at Harris, removing her sunglasses to expose what looked to be angry eyes.

"You tell me," Harris shot back, his chin raised as he stared back at her defiantly. She shoved her chest out violently as she placed her hands on her hips.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He looked thoughtful, which was in stark contrast to the hot-headed way he usually handled things.

"Huh. What's that saying about—yeah, glass houses," he retorted, stroking his chin and then lowering his good arm. His back went ramrod straight and he gave her a little bow of the head, his face dead serious. He muttered something else in a low voice, pointing at her knowingly as he did so. When she replied with a stunned silence, he simply walked away, shaking his head all the while.

Callahan's mouth had dropped open and she stared at the back of Harris's head as he moved away from her. Quickly she put her sunglasses back on and said no more. What had he said? Had he hinted that he'd actually thrown her under the bus with Lassard? Had he threatened her with blackmail? This looked to be the beginning of a very tense relationship between my two squadron leaders, one that could very easily come back to bite Harris and me in the ass.


"Now, I will be assigning a pair of students to each traffic light," Harris began, once we were all in position. "You will rotate in and out of your position at the light every half hour, taking notice of the cross-traffic and maintaining a safe flow of traffic through the intersection. Each pair of cadets has been equipped with a two-way radio so that if there's any trouble or criminal behavior, it can be reported to me or Captain Callahan. Do not embarrass yourselves any more than you already do."

"Mullers and Brookstone," Callahan called out, reading from a clipboard. "You will be setting up at 7th and Center."

Awkward! I wondered if Brookstone would be confiding in Mullers about Harris's decision to sit with me on the bus. I'd have to wait to find out. Hopefully I'd be set up close enough to Mullers to talk to her during a break. I never really got to talk to her after Callahan and Harris's confrontation.

"You sure we're gonna be seeing any cars?" Beaner muttered, looking left and right to see a total lack of traffic. It was true that only one vehicle had passed through the intersection since we'd arrived here. Why would anyone bitch about nothing to do, anyway? Doing nothing was totally alright with me.

"Better hope you don't, 'cause I'm not sure you can handle it," Harris said with a sneer. He looked down at his clipboard and moved on. "Fenster and Beaner, come with me."

Harris, Fenster, and Beaner stood at the intersection of 5th and Center, where a construction crew was busy getting ready to shut off the power to the traffic light. "Captain Callahan and I will be monitoring you, so don't screw up."

"Carnegie and Manson," he called out after they were in their place. "You're on Center and Columbus. Watch the lay of the road, because traffic will be coming up over a hill before getting to the intersection. There is a sign set up warning them of the traffic lights, so they should slow down."

"What if they don't?" Manson inquired.

"Shoot 'em," he deadpanned. My eyebrow went up and Manson took a deep breath, but it was soon clear that he was kidding. He was not one to joke around, so it was a bit shocking.

"Dammit, we've talked about this, Manson," he groaned, looking exasperated. "You wait 'til they pass and write down their license plate number."

Once we were in position, I volunteered to be first, being as Manson couldn't help but go over to the cross set up very close to this intersection, a little wooden cross with relatively new fake flowers stuck in the ground around it.

"Someone died here," she pointed out, standing directly in front of the cross. "A person named Mike, apparently," she said, continuing to read the cross. "1975-1993. Only 18 years old."

"I wish he'd mentioned that this was a confirmed dangerous intersection," I grumbled, watching Harris as he walked off into the distance. "What if someone hits one of us with a car?"

"Shoot 'em!" she peeped, grinning from ear to ear.

"Right," I replied, shaking my head. "Ugh, how stupid this is. Why would he give us the shitty intersection?"

At my mention of Harris, Manson gave a little squeal before running to my side.

"Right—so we saw what Lieutenant Harris did on the bus," she said. "What's going on?"

"Not much more than what you saw," I responded. "This isn't exactly a smiled-upon relationship," I added, looking off in the distance to make sure that Harris was long-gone.

"Yeah, I saw Captain Callahan pull him aside," she admitted. "I mean, she messed around with Norris and now it's Bordeaux. She's really got a lot of nerve."

"I know," I replied. "Let's just hope that the fear of Harris knowing what she's up to keeps her from getting him in trouble."

"That's so unlike him, sitting down with a cadet. He'd sooner clobber a cadet over the head with a bullhorn than act like he likes them."

"I was just as shocked as you were when he sat down, believe me," I explained. "He never gave me any hint that he'd do that."

"At least you have him on your side," she said, suddenly sounding exhausted. "I have no one on my side."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I'm on your side. So are Mullers and Stiner, I'm sure."

"I mean, a guy, to beat the crap out of Bordeaux and Beaner. To make them leave me alone." She gritted her teeth as she spoke, fists in a ball. "So help me, if they do anything else…."

I heard a vehicle approaching us, and suddenly Manson snapped out of her strange trance.

"Ooo!" she exclaimed, taking several steps away from the intersection. "A car!"

I turned around to see a car coming from behind me. I signaled for the car to slow down and then checked the crossing road to allow the car to move through. If I had to handle one car every five minutes, I'd only have to signal six cars through before it would be Manson's turn.

After the car had passed, Manson spoke up again, changing the subject—and her mood—back to the trance state.

"You've seen them—they just don't know how to shut up. I swear, if they were to drive through this intersection, I'd direct traffic to make them wreck. And then their families could put up two more crosses."

"Try to ignore them, if you can," I replied, surprised at how dark she could get at a moment's notice. "This academy isn't such a long time. Just stay as far away from them as you can."

"It's like they seek me out," she sighed, shaking her head. "It's become a game for them. I wish my cousin could order a hit on them. I would totally have him do it."

Cousin? I didn't have to ask. Surely she was talking about Charles Manson. I didn't know what to say to Connie, but it was clear that she was near her breaking point. When she spoke of her two bullies, all the positivity left her and turned her into a whole other person. I was a bit creeped out by her drastic change in personality, but then again, the academy was only for a few more weeks.