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#Post#: 2908--------------------------------------------------
Haunted by the Past - Chapter 12 - The Irishman's Bond
By: RampageSports Date: February 24, 2016, 9:05 am
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Author's Note: The Spenser, Hawk and Susan Silverman characters
belong to mystery novelist Robert B. Parker. Mr. Parker is one
of my favorite authors, and his work is a major influence on the
the way I write. Whether I even come close to mimicking his
style is open to considerable debate, but I have chosen to use
his characters in this story as something of an homage. My goal
is to handle them as lightly as possible and to maintain them as
Mr. Parker created them. Any failure on that front is
completely my own.
[hr]
Haunted by the Past - Chapter 12 - The Irishman's Bond
"Major O'Rourke," the voice on the other end of the phone said.
"So, it's Major now, is it?" I said.
"Ah, they're just trying to find some closet they can put me in
until I retire," he replied.
"You know Pat, most people think being promoted is a good
thing."
"Not me. Bigger office, bigger desk, bigger bullsh*t," he said.
"As far as I'm concerned, they could put me back in a patrol
unit right now, and leave me there until my time is up."
That pretty much sums up the life philosophy of New Jersey State
Police Major Patrick O'Rourke. He's a local celebrity in my
town... a guy whose everyman persona makes him well-liked by
nearly everyone who's ever met him. His most appealing trait is
that he's not a talker or a thinker or a planner. He's a doer.
Got a little league baseball team that needs coaching? Pat's
your man.
Need someone to fill a seat on the Little League council? No,
thank you. Sitting is not his style.
His rapport with kids made him an easy choice to be a part of
the State Police alcohol and drug awareness program. But, when
he was offered the chance to represent the state on the
program's national level, he turned it down.
Too much travel and politics for him? Probably. But, his main
reason for passing on the opportunity was that he preferred to
remain as the cop in the classroom, talking directly to the kids
and witnessing the difference he was making in their lives.
Oddly enough, it was drugs that ruined his own life. Not that
he was taking them, of course. On the contrary, it was his zeal
for getting them off the streets that pushed him into the
bureaucratic abyss.
A kid from one of the classes he'd spoken to OD'd only days
after Pat's visit. The long view of that event was that it was
one kid out of hundreds he'd spoken to, and such a thing was
bound to happen sooner or later. But Pat had no interest in the
long view, and he took the death as his personal failure. He
successfully lobbied his higher ups to let him lead the
investigation, and then spent the next eight years turning over
every rock he could find. When he was done, he had traced the
drugs from the victim all the way back to the boat they'd
arrived on, and he amassed enough evidence to take down everyone
involved along the way.
During the course of the investigation, Pat had moved steadily
up the ranks, becoming a Sergeant in year seven. It was a rank
he was proud to have, and he felt it was the ideal spot for him
to do his best work. However, the success of the investigation
generated a lot of interest from the press. At the time, Pat
was happy to be the face of it... walking reporters through the
details in an effort to make the public more aware of the
challenges police faced and of the dangerous people involved in
the drug trade. What he didn't realize was that he was also
making himself the hero of the day. There was no way the state
could let his efforts go unrecognized, so he was basically
forced to accept a promotion that took him off the streets and
into the staff levels of the organization.
That was almost twenty years ago, and he's never really been
happy, since.
My father got to know Pat when he coached my brothers, one after
the other. Dad liked the way he was always willing to put
himself out there for the kids, and the two of them hit it off
pretty well. It helped that both of them had the same basic
guiding principle... there was right and there was wrong, and
when the time came, you did sh*t right and you didn't spend a
lot of time talking about it.
As time went on, they developed some sort of fraternal
Irishman's bond that I can't fully explain. But I know Dad felt
better knowing he could count on Pat to help out when one of us
stepped a little too far out of line.
And let me tell you, we tested that bond quite a bit.
My brothers gave Pat plenty of action over the years. Putting
in the good word after one of them wrecked his car on the way
home from Delaware. Convincing the local cops that another was
'a good kid from a good family' after he got swept up in a
barroom brawl. And, my personal favorite, working behind the
scenes to get the third dummy his car back after he was arrested
for driving without insurance.
Not that he couldn't afford the insurance, mind you. He just
forgot to pay the bill when it came.
I, on the other hand, never did any of those things.
No, I was much worse than that.
When you spend your time playing with fire, you're going to get
burned. Though the trouble in Boston was the biggest mess I'd
ever been in, it was not the only mess I'd ever been in. Times
when some jackass tried to screw me, and I maybe sorta lost
control and punched him in the face. Times when the local cops
felt the need to raid whatever club I was fighting at, and I was
a little slow getting out of there. Times when... well, you get
the idea.
Time and time again, Pat stepped in and got me out of the latest
disaster du jour. Each time, he'd read me the riot act and
swore there was going to come a time when he wouldn't be there
to bail me out. But when the next time came, there he was to
bail me out, again. In fact, it occurred to me once that, in
his efforts to keep me safe, Pat had been one of my greatest
enablers during my fight career.
And I would tell him that, except that he's usually armed and
I'm afraid he might shoot me dead on the spot.
On the other hand, I'm always good for giving him an excuse to
get out from behind his desk. So, maybe he should be thanking
me.
Yeah... I'm not telling him that, either.
"So," he said after a few moments, "to what do I owe the
pleasure of this phone call? You're not in trouble again, are
you?"
"Not yet," I said, "but I'm working on it."
I launched into an explanation of what was going on, leaving
nothing out. He knew what had happened in Boston, and he'd
yelled at me plenty for it, back then. That didn't stop him
from yelling at me again, though.
"How do you keep getting yourself into this sh*t?"
"I didn't do anything, this time!" I responded — emphasis on the
this time.
"Mafia. Bookies. For most people, those are movie characters,"
he ranted.
That didn't seem like the moment to say, I am not most people.
I thought it, though.
"And who's this guy from Boston?" he continued.
The guy he was referencing was Spenser. I did leave one tiny
detail out of my tale. Given Hawk's history with law
enforcement, it seemed imprudent to mention his involvement to
the state policeman.
"I already told you..." I began.
"Yeah, yeah... he helped you last time. So, you call him down
here even before you call me?"
"Pat, look... this isn't..."
I groped for a smooth way to make my point.
"This isn't, what?" he asked impatiently.
"It's just... Powers..."
"Powers? I'm a god-damn state police major, for Christ's sake.
Got this little gold star on my sleeve, and everything. You
don't think I can handle a guy like Powers?"
"That's not what I'm saying."
"Then, what are you saying?" he challenged.
"I'm saying I'm hip deep in serious sh*t, and Spenser can do
things you can't!"
See? Smooth.
There was a moment of silence while the conversation reformed
around the underlying meaning of my statement.
"Things I can't," he said quietly. "You mean to say illegal
things, don't you?"
"Well, there's a chance..."
"Uh, huh. Is he armed?" he asked. "Because his Massachusetts
license is no good, here."
"No, Pat," I said sarcastically. "He came here hoping to sit
down and have brunch with Powers and charm him into leaving me
alone."
"Don't you take that tone with me..."
God bless him... sometimes, it's like Dad's still here.
"Look, Powers isn't here for a visit," I snapped. "He's here
for me. Probably to kill me. Now, if you can go convince him
to play by the rules, then we'll do things your way. But, for
now..."
I left my sentence unfinished.
Another quiet moment passed. While he was understandably
unhappy, he also knew I was right, and I could visualize him
slowly coming to grips with things. What he really wanted was
to rewind time and prevent me from putting myself in this
situation in the first place. But alas, the wonders of time
travel have not yet been realized. So, though he might not like
my plan, he knew it was the best option for keeping me alive.
With my verbal spanking finished, he shifted into overprotective
mode.
"Fine," he sighed. "I can arrange to have a few units in your
neighborhood."
Oh, geez...
"No units, Pat," I said. "I just need you to talk to the local
cops and have them keep an eye on things. Maybe have one of
your guys wander through every once in a while. That's all."
He grunted, which meant he heard what I'd said, but fell a
little short of actually agreeing with it.
I was hopeful that it also meant he wouldn't send any more than
one car to babysit me.
"This guy, Spenser," he said. "He can keep you safe?"
"Yes," I said, "he can."
"He'd better," he warned.
[hr]
Character Reference
HTML https://aade768506dacb303a01a361d3dc0d27209a5ec4.googledrive.com/host/0Bz8YsEjMxOhMMXhVcF82aG5SXzA/Richelle_100x120.jpg
Name: Richelle Winterfeld
Nickname(s):
Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
[img]
HTML https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=0Bz8YsEjMxOhMTWlVa0RtSHRqdlE[/img]
Name: Patrick O'Rourke
Nickname(s):
Background: Major with the New Jersey State Police, family
friend of Richelle's
#Post#: 2909--------------------------------------------------
Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 12 - The Irishman's Bond
By: RampageSports Date: February 24, 2016, 9:09 am
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Just a quick note... this chapter and the next are both pretty
short, and they're strongly related to each other. I couldn't
decided if I should post them together or just stick to the
schedule. In the end, I've decided to split the difference.
I'll just post this one for now, but I'll post Chapter 13
tomorrow instead of two days from now. :)
#Post#: 2910--------------------------------------------------
Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 12 - The Irishman's Bond
By: Dragons Den Date: February 25, 2016, 12:02 am
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More brilliance! Great work again, Richelle. And I love the use
of Brendan Gleeson for O'Rourke's avatar. Nice choice! As
always, very much looking forward to more!
#Post#: 2912--------------------------------------------------
Re: Haunted by the Past - Chapter 12 - The Irishman's Bond
By: RampageSports Date: February 25, 2016, 9:54 am
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Thank you, sir! :D
I have to admit that using Brendan here didn't immediately occur
to me. But, when I saw that image of him, it became an easy
choice.
Ah, and I see you've posted the next segment of the OFN story.
I'm at work, which means the fact that I can't read it from here
will irritate me throughout the day. But I'll get to it,
tonight. ;)
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