Ten years after the death of their parents, the Bennett siblings were now adults, in their early twenties, now it’s time for them to say goodbye. Their parents, buried in upstate New York, but the remainder of their lives would be spent in New York City, hours away. Standing by their parent’s grave sites, Angela, Delores, and Andrew, stood still stunned and unbelieving that they were orphans, alone in the world. Their aunt and uncle, took up their upbringing for the past five years, stood close by watching them, but also praying for their safety and well-being. The big city would be difficult for them, and they were worried the ‘family secret’ would stay that way.
“Mom, Dad, we came to say goodbye.” Angie glanced at her siblings. “We love you dearly and we miss you always. Do you want to say something?” She asked her siblings.
“No, I don’t think so,” Delores replied. “I just miss them all the time.”
“I have something to say,” Andrew began. “I still don’t understand why this happened. Our ‘gifts’ weren’t enough to save them. What’s the point of having them if we can’t save the people we love?”
“Andrew, now is not the time,” Angela said.
“Why not; we never talk about our gifts but it’s there like this huge boulder hanging over our heads. It didn’t save them; it probably put them at risk.” He paused becoming emotional. “Did they know; did they say anything to you?” He asked his older sister on the verge of tears.
“No, they never said,” she sadly replied.
“I’ve never dreamed of my death and I hope I never will.” He seemed adamant about that.
“I don’t think it works that way. I’ve never had that dream and I pray none of us have to go through that,” Angie stated what they were all thinking.
“I hope we never will,” Delores said.
“Me too,” Andrew also agreed.
“It’s time to go.” Holding hands, one last goodbye, then they began their lives unsure how to use their gifts and if they did, would it make a difference. Only time would tell.
The summer of 2051 in the city of New York, one of the hottest on record, and it’s hot, stifling even, but at this moment, the weather was not on the mind of the young lady who entered the police station of the Third Precinct. Looking for the young man who had called her firm’s pro-bono clinic earlier in the day looking for an attorney.
Angela Bennett, working pro-bono this month, meaning she would not receive compensation for her work, but she did not considerate it charity work, but doing her job to the best of her abilities.
“May I help you?” The officer asked, taking notes, not looking at her.
“Yes, I’m an attorney. I’m here to speak with a young man brought in for questioning concerning an armed robbery. His name is Bobby Smith.” Angela waited for him to look at her, but he didn’t seem to have the time. He glanced at her face, but looked right through her.
Angela took a seat. It’s a busy time, summertime, meaning hot weather brought out the worst in people. New York is famous for its stifling heat, but she was used to it. Raised in upstate New York, she rather enjoyed the heat. It didn’t truly bother her.
Bought out of her thoughts by the officer. “Can I see some identification?”
She stood up. “Sure, I have my employee card from my firm,” she replied and showed it to him.
He read it and handed it back. “Follow me.”
After entering a waiting area and handed a ‘visitor badge’ and led inside a small room with a table with two chairs, she pulled out her pad and pen and waited for her client. Reading her notes, she realized that he may be innocent. She’d seen the surveillance camera footage and he did appear like the suspect, but on closer inspection, they could be related. If he did have an alibi and it didn’t coincide with the evidence, there could be a problem.
Minutes later, he walked in and he did look familiar. Tall, broad shoulders, medium dark complexion, but his eyes drew her attention. Stunned and unable to believe it, he shook her head and then she remembered. In her dreams over the past few weeks, he was there smiling at her. Her heart began to pound with excitement but also dread.
“Miss Bennett?” He asked sharply.
She blinked and tried to concentrate. “Oh, I’m sorry; what did you say?”
“I’m Detective William Douglas. Your client will be brought in shortly. Would you like me to update you about the case against him?”
She gathered her wits. “That won’t be necessary. I did speak with him over the phone, and I think I have enough,” she replied, heart still pounding.
He stood there staring at her, and as if she could feel his stares, she raised her eyes to his face. Time stood still.
“Well, I’ll go get him now,” he said and turned to leave.
“Thank you, Detective,” she said and glanced at her notes. The door closed, she released a breath. Closing her eyes, she thought of her dream.
Just last night:
“Bill, where are we going?” She smiled in the dream and followed him. Her hand in his, she stared at the beautiful scenery. At the edge of the water, he stopped and pulled her close.
“Anywhere you want to go,” he replied and then he leaned down to kiss her as if he had done it a hundred times before.
Back to the present:
The door closed, startling her out of her thoughts.
“Ms. Bennett?” Detective Douglas brought Bobby inside and wondered what she was thinking.
“Mr. Smith? I’m here to represent you.” In handcuffs, Bobby took a seat. “Hopefully, we can clear this up in no time.” She then realized that Detective Douglas was still there staring at her. “Thank you, Detective,” she murmured and tried not to stare at his handsome face.
“I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” He opened the door and waited for her to look at him. She raised her eyes to his, then nodded but didn’t reply.
After he left, Bill did not move an inch and wondered what in the world just happened. Lawyers were the worst, only out for one thing, well, in his opinion, most of them were, but this one did seem genuine as if she wanted to help, and not just go through the motions. He’d gotten that instinct from being a detective for the past ten years, and his instincts were usually correct. But the way she stared at him made him think of talking to her, and getting to know her. He shook his head at his musings, then moved down the hall.
A half hour later, she stood up and gathered her notes. Bobby Smith could very well be innocent. After being returned to his cell, she met with the Detective. Standing before his desk, she waited for him to speak.
“Well, is he guilty?” He finally asked, not looking at her.
“He must be or you wouldn’t have arrested him,” she replied stiffly.
He finally turned to stare at her. “He’s innocent until proven guilty.” He paused at her silence. “Just tell me what you found out.”
“It’s true that he was near the robbery; he does look like the suspect, but he didn’t have any money on him. He didn’t have a weapon, and it’s my opinion that you have the wrong man. Any evidence you may have is circumstantial.”
He chuckled. “I see; anything else?”
She frowned. “Isn’t that enough?”
“I’m afraid not,” he replied and grinned, which put her on edge.
“What’s so funny?” She asked with raised eyebrows.
He pulled himself together. “Nothing is funny. I’m sorry; it’s just you seem determined to get him released.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here?” She asked, not understanding his question.
“I don’t know, but you’re different from the pro-bono lawyers who pop in here looking to past the time and not truly interested in finding out the truth.” He paused. “You’re different.” He couldn’t stop staring at her.
She glanced at her shoes. “Well, I didn’t become a lawyer to waste my time or,” she hesitated.
“Nothing,” she replied. “Well, when can he be released?”
He stood up and held out his hand to follow him and she did, reminding her of her dream. She stiffened being this close to him. “We’ll double check the surveillance camera, ask around the neighborhood for witnesses, we’ll see if anything changes. Will that satisfy you?”
“Seems to me you should have done that before you arrested him,” she cracked. She turned at the door, but then the air stilled. He held out his hand. She stared at his hand. “I’ll be in touch. Do you have a card?”
“Sure, I have one,” he pulled it out, but then held it back. “I’ll give it to you, on one condition, that you give me yours?” He grinned.
“I have one,” she replied and gave it to him. She took his, but then she held out her hand. They shook hands, then she was gone.
Moments later, Bill stood still staring at the card, then silently read it: ‘Angela Jane Bennett, Attorney at Law, Barnes & Johnson, LLP, 333 East Third Avenue, New York, NY; Tele: (212) 555-1222; Fax: (212) 555-2222; Cell: (212) 555-7383.’
Still staring at the card, someone touched his shoulder. “Not bad; not bad at all.”
He turned and his best friend and partner, Detective David Waters, stared at his friend with a smirk on his face, wiggled his eyebrows, then he grinned at his friend’s glare.
Sighing, Bill slipped the card in his jacket pocket and headed back to his desk. David followed him.
“You are a sly one, getting her card, and following her around like a lovesick puppy. She’s a lawyer or did you forget?”
“Believe me, I haven’t forgotten, and besides, not all lawyers are bad; same as us.” He took a seat, then pulled up the surveillance video from the Bobby Smith case.
“Why are you bothering with that case? It’s open and shut,” David asked. He and Bill were the first detectives on the scene when Bobby was caught and arrested. Bobby had tried to run which only raised their suspicions about his involvement in the robbery.
“She’s pretty adamant that we have the wrong guy and she may be right. I just don’t want to miss anything. Armed robbery is a serious charge, and besides, he’s just a kid.”
“He’s not a kid; he’s almost eighteen,” David said.
“I know that; I just don’t want to miss anything,” he said it again distracted by the videos.
“Is this about the case, or is there more to it?” He wiggled his eyebrows again.
“No, there’s nothing more; just the case.”
“If you say so,” David said not believing it. He left him alone and got back to work.
Bill sighed and pulled out the card and wondered if he should call her now or wait a few days.
Meanwhile, in a cab, Angela stared at Bill’s card, deep in thought. Her dream kept repeating in her mind like a loop unending. Instead of heading back to the office, she headed home. Her sister, Delores, was probably there getting ready for work. Her early evening hours as a waitress didn’t start until four and they sometimes managed a few hours before she had to leave.
“Dede, are you home?” She called to her sister.
“I’m here,” she replied, hairbrush in hand getting ready to leave. “I have a few minutes.” Then she picked up on her sister’s mood. Their sibling bond, a lot deeper than most siblings, only a year apart, they sensed each others moods, hurt feelings, a lot of things that would go unnoticed, they were different from most. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Angie thoughtfully replied. She placed her things on the sofa and took a seat. “I met him today.”
That got Dede’s attention and sat down beside her. “You did?” Stunned, she stared at her. “It never happens, well, not that any of our family could remember. You actually met him?”
“Yes, I did and it was crazy. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He’s just as gorgeous as in my dreams, maybe even more so.”
“Did you get his number at least?” Dede asked with a smile.
Angie chuckled. “Yes, I did.”
“I want to hear everything; all of it,” Dede asked, getting excited for her sister.
“I have his card.” She showed it to her. “He’s a police detective not far from my office actually.”
“Oh, no, a detective?” She asked, worried about that.
“I know what you’re thinking. Lawyers and police officers do not get along, but I think it went well.”
Dede was thrilled for her. “I want to hear more, but I have to leave. We’ll talk tonight, Okay?”
“Sure; we’ll talk tonight.” They hugged each other close, then Dede left for her job.
Hoping to relax, Angie took off her shoes, then feeling compelled, she glanced at the card again: William Jeffrey Douglas, Sergeant-Detective, NYPD, Third Precinct, 888 Ninth Avenue, New York, NY; Tele: (212) 555-8000; Fax: (212) 555-8810; Cell: (212) 555-7303.
Will I see him again? Should I call him or will he call me? She wondered. She pulled out her cell phone, but before she could dial the number, his name popped up. “Hello.”
“Hi, Ms. Bennett, this is Detective Douglas, we met earlier today and I.” He started but she interrupted.
“I remember you,” she said and waited, heart pounding again.
“Well, I have a break on the case. Can we meet at the coffee shop just down the street from the Precinct? It won’t take long.”
Deflated for some reason, she hesitated. The case, of course, she thought. “Yes, I’ll be there shortly.”
She hung up, then slipped back into her shoes. It’s just the case, she thought. It’s not a date; it’s just coffee. But that didn’t stop her heart from pounding like a drum. Glancing at herself in the hall mirror, she pulled a comb from her purse and brushed her hair, falling long and loose about her shoulders. After finishing law school, she went back to perming her hair, and now with a steady income, a hairdresser every few months fit her budget and she was proud of that. Taking a deep breath, she left the apartment.
At the coffee shop, Bill tapped his fingers waiting for her. He thought back to earlier when their eyes had met. Could it be true; was it really her? Having this connection was unexpected, but dare he even get his hopes up? Upon meeting her, everything had been so different. There’s that word again. ‘Different.’
“Bill?” He seemed startled. “Oh, I’m sorry. Detective Douglas?”
He smiled. “Bill is fine.” He stood up and helped her to sit. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“No, problem, so, what did you find?” She asked, eagerly to see Bobby released.
The case, of course, he thought. “Well, you were right. Bobby was not at the scene of the robbery. We have a witness. Someone saw him blocks away at the time of the robbery.”
Relieved, she said, “Well, that’s great. Thank you for doing this. I never thought,” she hesitated.
“I know you don’t think much of us, especially after the past, oh, I don’t know thirty years or so.”
“Well, community policing has gotten better over the years. We all make mistakes, but hopefully, we learn from them.”
“I agree.” They stared at each other. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure, I’ll have a cup.” Then, “I haven’t had dinner yet,” she replied and wondered if he would take the hint. He did.
“There’s a small restaurant just around the corner. Do you like Italian?”
She smiled. “I love Italian.”