That finally made us laugh.
Not because anything was funny.
Because sometimes laughter was the only way a family could release a little fear.
We ordered dinner instead of cooking.
Mom insisted I eat.
Dad checked the locks even though I reminded him the house had a security system.
And my brother stayed until almost midnight, sitting on the patio while we talked about ordinary things.
Work.
Movies.
My mother's latest disagreement with the neighborhood gardener.
And the fact that Dad still refused to replace a coffee maker that had been leaking for three months.
For a few hours, I felt normal.
Then everyone went home.
I stood alone beside the front window.
The driveway was empty.
The police vehicles were gone.
The flowers moved gently in the warm evening breeze.
But I couldn't look at the garden without remembering the water striking my face.
I closed the blinds.
Then went upstairs.
That night, I slept badly.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard Cole shouting.
Every time I drifted toward sleep, I remembered the moment he raised the hose.
At three in the morning, I got out of bed and walked into the kitchen.
I made tea.
Then opened the notebook I'd used during my first years as a detective.
It contained a sentence I wrote after a particularly difficult case.
An incident can be over before its consequences begin.
I stared at it.
Then closed the notebook.
Because I knew this incident was far from over.
The independent investigator assigned to the case was Detective Lieutenant Andrea Mercer from a neighboring law-enforcement agency assisting under the applicable interagency arrangement.
She was fifty-one, with short dark hair beginning to turn gray and a reputation for refusing to be impressed by titles.
That was exactly what I wanted.
Andrea had investigated officer misconduct, public-corruption allegations, and complicated use-of-force cases.
She understood that a police chief could be a credible complainant.
She also understood that my rank created a risk of perceived influence if I attempted to direct the investigation.
When we met two days later, she didn't call me Chief.