Chapter 33: Owning Up

CPD District 21
12:30 AM

After receiving the startling news that Detective Asher had apparently been arrested for a DUI and drug possession, a reluctant Detective Harrison entered Chicago PD's District 21. He approached the front desk, where desk sergeant Trudy Platt had just finished up a phone call.

Sergeant Trudy Platt was a statuesque silver-haired woman in her late fifties. Dressed in the signature white uniform shirt that indicated the ranks of anyone on CPD's command staff, her mere appearance made anyone walking into District 21 show respect, and the almost-always apathetic Platt knew it.

"Detective Harrison?" Platt inquired, noticing the defeated look on his face.

Harrison momentarily displayed his CPD wallet identification for the Sergeant. "That's me", he dryly said, "Sergeant Platt, I presume?"

Platt came out from behind her desk and extended a hand. "You got it, pal", she replied, "Nice to meet you in person."

Despite the inopportune circumstances, Harrison still reciprocated the gesture and shook Platt's hand. "Likewise," he said, "Where is she?"

Platt led Harrison downstairs to the district's holding area. He found Asher sitting in the only occupied cell at the end of a small row. A black metal folding chair had been set just in front the cell's bars.

Asher sat up from her laying position on the cell bench that had been covered in a cheap blue tarp-like cover. "Hey", she said, "Thanks for coming."

A discouraged Harrison sat forward in the chair and sighed. "That's all you have to say to me, Abby?" he sharply said in an exasperated tone, "'Hey, thanks for coming'? You're a Chicago Narcotics detective sitting in a jail cell on a DUI and possession charges! How the hell did we end up here?"

"Full disclosure", Asher began to explain, "I had to use drugs while I was undercover. Iraq Wade and his crew dealt painkillers among a bunch of other shit. There was one dude in his crew, a big scary dude named Terrence Mala. He was suspicious of my identity from the get-go. So, to prove I wasn't a cop or a snitch, I started using. Painkillers, mostly."

"This turned into a 'more-than-one-occasion' type deal, I take it?" Harrison dubiously asked.

Asher's eyes welled up with tears. "Yeah", she replied with a wavering voice, "I mean, obviously, look where we are!" She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

Harrison swallowed tears of his own as he leaned forward in the chair and reached one hand just inside the bars, which Asher comfortingly took. "What happened tonight?" he asked.

"Up until tonight", Asher explained, "I hadn't used for about two days, so I've been sort of quietly fighting withdrawal symptoms for a while. I've had the shakes, the pukes, and some other not-so-fun symptoms you probably don't need details about."

Harrison gave a nervous smirk. "I get it, kid", he said, "Go on."

"I've been struggling with the urges since the Rossi-Fremont case", Asher continued, "But I've been able to keep them pretty much under control. But seeing that baby earlier tonight pretty much put me over the edge."

"Okay", Harrison replied, "So what exactly happened after I left Chicago Med to work that scene with Sunny?"

"The detectives from Special Investigations Unit showed up about ten minutes after you left. I gave them my statement, said goodbye to the Broussards and Commander Brooks, then I stepped outside and felt the impulsive urge to throw up, which unfortunately I did. I knew I was getting the urge, so I took a taxi back to our district and signed out an unmarked Impala from the parking lot out back."

Harrison could think of nothing to do in response but nod. "Then what happened?" he asked.

Asher sighed. "Come on, Troy", she said with an exasperated tone, "Do we really have to go through all this step by step?"

"You're going to have to explain all this to Internal Affairs and the Ivory Tower anyway", he replied, countering in a very firm manner of his own, "It's better that you start by explaining it to me, Troy Harrison, your friend."

The troubled young detective sighed once again, but this time she realized what the always kind-hearted and well-intentioned Harrison was getting at. "I reached out to an informant", she said, "He gave me the names of known opioid dealers within the territory of the Twenty-First District. I went to one of them and posed as just any old perspective buyer. He gave me a bag containing about six or seven pills."

"I mean no disrespect given these weird circumstances, Abby", Harrison replied, "But I have to say that I don't think you were exactly playing the part of a buyer or an addict this time. You obviously do have a big problem, honey, and you need help."

Asher's eyes welled with tears once again, and once again she wiped her eyes with the sweatshirt sleeve on her free hand. "You're right", she said in a hoarse voice, "I know. What's going to happen to me, Troy?"

Harrison swallowed. "As much as I hate to admit it", he said, "I really don't know yet, sweetie. Sergeant Platt told me that she didn't sign off on your transfer to Cook County lockup because you're a fellow cop. I'll talk to her before I leave and see if I can't get her to keep you here until your arraignment in the morning."

Asher sniffled before nodding. "That'd be great", she replied, "You're a great friend, Troy."

Harrison squeezed his unsettled friend's hand a bit tighter. "Right back at you, love", he said, "I don't care where we are right now or what's happened. I've had your back since we were kids in the schoolyard, Abby. I'm not about to stop now."

"Thank you", Asher said as she regained her composure. "Anyway", she continued to explain, "After I scored the pills, I drove around for a bit looking for a place to use. I found my way to the park about four blocks over from here. I pulled over near the park entrance, took out the pills, crushed them up, and snorted them off the steering wheel cover. Next thing I knew, there was a knock at my passenger window. It was one of the two patrolmen who found me parked there."

"Alright", Harrison said as he released his grasp on Asher's hand and stood up from the chair. "I'm going to go have a talk with Sergeant Platt upstairs. With any luck, she'll agree to keep you down here until court."

"Thanks so much, Troy", Asher said, "I love you, buddy."

"I love you too, dear", Harrison said as he gave his friend a comforting smile, "Whatever happens, you keep your damn head up high and take care of yourself."

Harrison then headed back upstairs to the district lobby, where Platt was still working diligently at her desk. "Hey Sergeant?" he asked.

Platt continued working on her paperwork, but acknowledged Harrison nonetheless. "Yeah", she wryly replied, not taking her eyes off her work, "What is it?"

A now irked Harrison walked around to the front of Platt's desk and placed his left hand on top of her paper. The distraction caused a suddenly goaded Platt to look up at the impatient detective with a slight scowl. "I apologize for the interruption, ma'am", Harrison said with a very straightforward tone, "And I certainly don't mean to disrespect a senior officer, but as I'm sure you can imagine, I'm in no mood to beat around the bush."

Platt removed her glasses and looked up at Harrison. "I'm all ears, Detective", she said as she looked him squarely in the eye.

Harrison sighed the remainder of his anger away, removing his hand from the desktop. "Alright then", he replied in a much calmer manner, "You said on the phone that you deliberately put off sending Detective Asher to Cook County because she's a sister officer. Do I have that right?"

Platt nodded. "Not only that", she explained, "but she's been charged with two misdemeanors. Those usually end up on the bottom of the court dockets anyway, and it just didn't seem fair to have a fellow officer sitting in a cold cell around a bunch of cop-hating strangers when my patrolmen and I could keep a much better eye on her here."

"Much appreciated, Sergeant", Harrison said, "What time does the court van come?"

"Nine o' clock", Platt replied, "I clock out at seven, but tell you what, I'll leave a note for the morning Sergeant about Asher's situation. He'll make sure she's treated fairly."

"Okay", Harrison said, "Has anyone from our district been notified since you called me?" Harrison asked.

"I called Sergeant Mahoney while you were downstairs", Platt replied, "Looped her in on this whole thing. She notified Lieutenant Broussard, the police union, and Internal Affairs. Don't quote me on this, but I doubt IA or the Ivory Tower will press Asher all that hard on two misdemeanors."

Harrison took a moment to really ponder Platt's insights. "So that leaves what as far as consequences are concerned?" he asked.

"Best case scenario", Platt explained, "the court will most likely sentence her to some sort of rehab time in lieu of jail. If the Ivory Tower decides not to fire her, she'll probably be put on 'sick leave' while she's at rehab. If they accept her reinstatement request down the road, she'll probably be put back in uniform and have to ride a desk at another district for a while. Unfortunately, if she is reinstated, her going back to Narcotics is out of the question."

Harrison nodded. "I think that last part goes without saying", he said, "Thanks for your help, Sarge. Turns out you're not as big of a battle axe after all."

Platt grinned. "You and your girl Asher are just lucky I have a soft spot for other Chicago cops", she said.

Harrison headed for the door. "Goodnight", he said.

As soon as he exited the front door, Harrison immediately made a beeline for the alley beside the district. He turned to face the building's brick side wall and broke down sobbing, frustrated and saddened at the circumstances his good friend had found herself in. He wiped his eyes with his hand and struggled to catch his breath.

"Troy", a very recognizable, gruff male voice said from near the entrance of the alley.

Harrison wiped his eyes once again before turning to find Hank Voight and Alvin Olinsky standing at the entrance to the alley. "Now's not exactly a good time, fellas", Harrison said in between sniffles.

"Trudy told us what happened with Abby", Olinsky said, "Is she okay?"

"She should be fine with some work and some serious soul searching", Harrison replied, "But it looks like it's going to take a while."

Voight stepped forward and put a hand on Harrison's shoulder. "You okay, bro?" he asked.

A still tearful Harrison gave Voight a nervous grin in retort. "My heart is breaking for that kid", he candidly said, "But yeah, I'll be fine."

"Good", Olinsky said as he came up beside Voight, "Because we've got some movement on that Ivory Tower shit you stumbled on. Here's what we'll do…"

[Author's Note: Happy Holidays everybody! After I post this chapter, I'm going to take a breather to celebrate the holidays. However, I plan to have the final chapters of this story done and posted before the New Year so I can wrap everything up (cheesy holiday pun not intended). Keep an eye out for a final A/N on the last chapter of this story, where I plan to give you guys the skinny on my next story. Thanks so much to all of you for your support and interest. I hope you all have a great holiday season!]