Reporting for Duty Read online

  He looked at his notes, trying to stop thinking about his ex-boyfriend. Whenever Andy came into his mind, his thoughts always ran away from him. But he had to focus, he had to focus on his career because the cop had been right. Once he wrote this ‘report’, he wouldn’t be able to work in town again. It had to be so good that he could impress massive online publications. Ones that would fly him to New York City and Los Angeles. Ones that still had offices in high-rise buildings. Or any buildings, actually.

  Elijah would kill for an office. There were a lot of things Elijah would kill for now that he was thinking about it. But he was only twenty-five, and good things would come to him. He just needed to keep his head down and do the work that he needed to do.

  He started to read over his notes again. Robert Kilkenny was nice enough, congenial even, but he struck Elijah as tight-lipped at the best of times. That was probably why he had been assigned to have the reporter around him, along with being new to the force in town. Winning Kilkenny over may not be easy, but it would be something that he had to do.

  ***

  Robert Kilkenny stepped out of the communal showers at the gym on Fourth and Main, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He never understood why the gym insisted on having mirrors right in front of the shower, as if being at the gym wasn’t enough to make anyone feel self-conscious. It was the only gym he had been able to find in town that didn’t have broken down equipment, however, so he went there, religiously.

  He would go before work if he could. But he had been going to bed too late over the past few weeks, late enough that he woke up groggy and only felt better after he had drunk at least three cups of coffee per day.

  Things were simpler since he had moved, but it was still difficult. His triggers were mostly non-existent in a place as small as Riverton, but if he wanted to continue his career as a police officer, which he was fairly sure that he did, he needed to get a grip. One of the things that his therapist had been firmest on was a routine. A routine would anchor Robert. It would make him feel as if things were normal even though everything had changed. It would help with the dissociating, at the very least. The therapist had been officially mandated, but Robert hated to admit how much she had helped.

  When she had suggested that he move, seeing her was the only reason that he could think of to stop it. But, of course, she had been right. So he had moved, and a few months had passed, and things were mostly better.

  He still had the dreams, but they weren’t as frequent. The efficiency he lived in—no pets, one person, non-smokers only—was small and a little dirty, but it suited him nicely. He was present. That was all he had to be, present. That was what he was working on. That was why it was okay that he was a beat cop. Why he had no problem being a beat cop and probably remaining a beat cop for the rest of his life.

  He looked up at his reflection and tried to smile. It was still a struggle. Every day was still a struggle. But he would settle in, and he would do better. One day, he may even have friends again. For now, he was pleased.

  Robert Kilkenny was doing just fine, thank you very much.

  Chapter Four

  Elijah tried his best to make it into the car despite both his hands being occupied. Robert didn’t seem like he was in a rush to help him, too preoccupied doing something on his phone. Sighing, Elijah put the hot drinks on the hood of the car and then stuck the donuts into the car, setting them on the passenger seat.

  That seemed to catch Robert’s attention. “You brought donuts?”

  “I brought breakfast,” Elijah replied, handing him a hot coffee. “You like coffee, right?”

  “Coffee, yes,” Robert said, grabbing the foam cup. “Donuts are a bit of a stereotype, aren’t they?”

  “Well, if you’re not going to eat the donuts yourself, I will,” Elijah replied, finally getting into the car. “Ever since I was a little kid, I have wanted to have dessert for breakfast.”

  “And you don’t?” Robert asked.

  “Not generally,” Elijah replied. “But I thought, you know, since I’m here, I thought I may as well be adventurous about it.”

  Robert smiled. “What kind of donuts are they?”

  “I thought you weren’t going to eat them,” Elijah said.

  “They are right there. Not eating them would be a sin.”

  “That’s fair,” Elijah said. He opened the box of donuts, which was now on his lap. “This one is Bavarian cream. This one is chocolate. This one is sprinkled. And this one is lemon cream.”

  “You got four donuts?”

  “Well, I didn’t really know how many you’d want.”

  “But you couldn’t get half a dozen donuts like a normal person?”

  “Hey,” Elijah replied, laughing. “You were the one who told me I was stereotyping you, now you’re asking for more donuts. Think about that.”

  “I didn’t even know you could get four donuts individually,” Robert replied, winking at him. His eyes were shining. He stuck his hand in the box before he smiled at Elijah. “Thank you.”

  “It’s fine,” he replied. “We both have to eat.”

  “Yeah,” Robert said. “But it’s been a long time since someone has brought me breakfast.”

  Elijah looked at him. His voice had dropped when he said that and he looked away. Elijah had been able to stop himself from checking, but not anymore. He looked at Robert’s hand, hoping not to find a wedding ring. Not that it would matter, anyway. Even if Robert Kilkenny had the slightest interest in men, and he probably didn’t, it would be unprofessional beyond belief to get involved with him. He could fill his nights with men he found on the Internet, not worrying about the professional implications that this kind of fling would have on his career.

  Not that there would be a fling. There would not be a fling. Elijah knew better. That still didn’t stop his heart from fluttering slightly when he saw Robert’s bare ring finger.

  “Why?”

  His heart had clearly somehow acquired control of his big dumb mouth. Nevertheless, that was a professional thing to ask. He was a professional. As a reporter, it was his job to know as much as possible.

  But all Robert did was look at him, blinking a couple of times and eating the bite that he had taken off his donut as slowly as he could.

  Of course he wouldn’t answer.

  “You don’t have to answer,” Elijah said, letting his curiosity get the better of him and employing a trick that he had learned in school. He should have probably kept it just for interviews, but it didn’t matter. He was going to spend at least two months with this man. It had been a week and he knew very little about Robert Kilkenny or about the police. All he knew about him was that he was Catholic, though non-practicing. He knew that because of the crucifix hanging from his neck and from the fact that he always crossed himself whenever they drove past the one graveyard in town, something that they did often. When Elijah asked him if he was praying, Robert Kilkenny had laughed so hard that Elijah had worried that water was going to come out of his nose.

  “It’s just that,” Elijah continued when their gaze locked. “It’s been a long time since someone brought me breakfast too, you know? Like way too long.”

  “Huh,” Robert Kilkenny said, shrugging his shoulders and undoing all the hard work that Elijah had done. “I’m surprised someone like you doesn’t—”

  Elijah closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, if by someone like me, you mean gay, then can you please stop that? We’ve been spending time together for a week and you’ve already said this once. So can you just spit it out? Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean that I have a boyfriend, or a career, or anything, okay? It clearly doesn’t!”

  He looked right in front of him, at his hands, which were on the car’s dashboard. They were shaking. Great, so after he had tried to show this guy how mature he was, and how clearly stable he was, so he would eventually open up to him, he had punctuated it with a little outburst about his sexuality. Because that h
ad never undermined him before.

  Robert Kilkenny looked at him, furrowing his brow. “You’re gay?”

  “That’s not what you meant?”

  Robert laughed this time, throwing his head back. “No. I didn’t — it never even occurred to me. You’re just young and a good-looking man. You seem nice enough, too. I’ve never found that men who are respectful of women have a hard time getting them. Though, of course, now I realize that you’re not interested.”

  Elijah blushed, looking away from the cop. He felt like an idiot, though he smiled. It didn’t come naturally, but he appreciated the compliments. Robert was clearly trying to make him feel better. “Not my thing.”

  “I bet it’s hard,” Robert said. “Living here. There’s not exactly a thriving LGBT community.”

  “If by that you mean, do I know all the out gay and lesbian people in town, the answer is yes,” Elijah replied.

  “I just meant like, it must be hard to meet men out here.”

  “Well, yes,” Elijah said. “Why do you think I spend all that time out in the city?”

  “So a long-distance relationship?”

  “If by relationship you mean wondering if a guy that invited me over to his house is going to murder me, then yes,” Elijah replied, shaking his head and laughing. “No, I’m not—I don’t know. I’m clearly not built for relationships. Just one of those people, you know?”

  Robert leaned over and squeezed his shoulder. It was the first time he had touched him, and it startled him because it sent a shock of electricity all through his body. As if he had never been touched by anyone else before in his life.

  “No,” Robert replied. “I don’t think you’re one of those people at all, Elijah. You’re just young and haven’t found the right person.”

  He swallowed. He shouldn’t ask Robert about this. He had already pressed him for an answer and he had been shut down.

  “What about you? You seem like,” he looked down, blushing before he finished his sentence. “Quite a catch yourself, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  Robert chuckled. “You don’t know me very well.”

  “I’m trying to remedy that,” Elijah replied.

  “Off the record?”

  Elijah wanted to say no. He wanted to tell him that everything that they discussed could be put in an article about him. But he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt to this man. He was the only friend that he had made since he had moved back home, and he had to face it. Robert Kilkenny wasn’t his friend.

  Elijah, the human, won over Elijah the reporter. “Everything,” Elijah heard himself say, a little horrified at his own words. “Everything you tell me is off the record, unless otherwise specified.”

  “Off the record,” Robert said, winking at him. “Everyone finds me repulsive.”

  Elijah looked at him, startled. He didn’t start to laugh long after Robert did, though he wasn’t sure, exactly, what he was laughing about.

  ***

  By the time evening rolled around, Elijah had zero material to write about and he didn’t know Robert Kilkenny any better than he had in the morning. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to look down at his phone. He was falling asleep when Robert put his foot on the brake down, hard.

  They were on one of the streets they had driven on already, maybe ten or twenty times since early morning. Being a cop was a lot more boring than Elijah had thought. But when Robert slammed down on the brake and stopped in front of one of the perfectly manicured houses that they had driven past so many times, Elijah instantly perked up. It was a beautiful colonial, all white columns and bricks. There was something different about it, though. The last time they had driven past it—maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago—the porch light was on, and there were people laughing outside. The porch light was now off, the door ajar and there was a noise coming from inside, but it didn’t sound like laughing.

  “Stay here,” Robert said to Elijah, sternly. It was the first time he had ever addressed Elijah like that, as if he was someone that was in charge, and Elijah found that he didn’t like it at all. He didn’t say anything as Robert got out of the car, slamming the door when he did. Elijah grabbed his phone and started to record from where he was sitting. He didn’t want to interfere in Robert’s police work, but he was there to do his own job.

  Robert approached the house slowly, his hand on his holster but not taking out his gun. Elijah rolled down the window so he could hear as Robert called out to see if there was anyone inside. He heard Robert say something into the house. He could even hear Robert’s knocking, though it didn’t look like he was doing it that loudly. He said something into the radio that was on his shoulder. He said something, waited a few seconds, then kicked the door open. It was already ajar, so it didn’t make any noise as it popped open. Robert didn’t even shine a light into the hallway, though he hesitated at the entrance, clearly shouting into the house. Elijah couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it suddenly seemed to become more urgent.

  He disappeared into the house and Elijah realized that he was holding his breath. When Robert hadn’t come out after a maddening two, three, four, five minutes, he got out of the car and started to approach the house.

  He did it slowly, holding his phone in front of his face as it recorded everything, as if it was some sort of shield. Except it wasn’t a shield and it wouldn’t do anything to protect him when it came to actual danger.

  When he started to climb the stairs, he saw Robert leave the house, holding something that looked about the size of a chair in his arms. It was covered by a blanket, and in one split second, Elijah realized that it was shivering. The thing that Robert Kilkenny was holding in his arms wasn’t a thing at all, but a person.

  He glanced at Elijah, frowning but saying nothing.

  “What—” Elijah started to say.

  “An ambulance should be here soon,” Robert Kilkenny replied, sitting on the steps next to him. “Everyone had cleared out by the time I went in there.”

  He moved the blanket down slightly so Elijah could see one eye peeking out. The child had long brown hair, and Elijah couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. He could tell that the child was shivering, clearly frightened, but still clinging to Robert Kilkenny for dear life.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Kilkenny said, quietly.

  “How did you—”

  “You should be in the car,” Kilkenny replied. Elijah nodded, his eyes filling with tears. He had never seen a kid be so frightened before in his life, and though he wanted to follow directions, he could barely manage to move from where he was standing.

  “Hey,” Robert said to the shivering kid. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you help.”

  “What happened—how did you—” Elijah began to ask, but stopped before finishing.

  “The people that were out here were drinking,” Robert said. “Remember?”

  “Yes,” Elijah replied.

  “They’re usually out here. They’re out here every single day, drinking, whatever. It’s fine. I’ve spoken to them before. They’re a mess, a bit of a blight on the nice neighborhood,” Kilkenny said. “But because they have money, it’s not really a call that happens too often. The houses are far enough away from each other that people leave them alone. Too much, clearly.”

  Elijah wanted to ask him what had happened again, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned over and extended his hand, softly touching the bundled-up child. Robert watched him, cocking one eyebrow but not saying anything.

  “I’ve never noticed a child here before,” Robert said. “Ever. I’ve been coming here for months, and then I saw this, like, little head, peeking out from the window, and I just knew. I knew there was someone in here. So I went in, and the—he was hiding in the closet, Elijah. And he was so frightened. But it’s okay now, isn’t it?”

  The little boy nodded.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Robert repeated to the child. Soon, there were lights everywhere and neither man coul
d see each other anymore.

  Chapter Five

  Robert Kilkenny arrived home late, after going to the gym and spending so much time there someone came up to him and asked him if he was okay. After that, he had to go home. He knew that the news of the rescue would be in the newspapers the next day. Worse, he knew that Elijah would probably write something about it. It didn’t matter; it was done now, and the child was safe. That was the only thing that did matter to Robert, even though he kept letting his mind wander just so he could think about other things.

  Finding the child, barely five years old, hiding in that closet, had been almost enough to trigger a PTSD episode. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to keep his wits about him, but he did it anyway. He scooped the little boy up and wrapped a blanket around him when he noticed that he was shivering, barely paying attention to the fact that there was evidence of drug use all around him, used needles on the beds and ashtrays overflowing. The house wasn’t quite in hoarder condition, but it smelled, and Robert didn’t think anyone took particular care to clean it.

  That was one of the reasons he had been so shocked when he found the little boy, whose name he didn’t tell Robert, despite being gently asked. There was a possibility that he was non-verbal, though Robert thought that it was more likely that he was simply frightened or just not used to speaking to adults.

  As soon as the little boy was in his arms, he remembered everything. He thought that the boy he was holding could be Chris, though Chris was smaller, he always seemed to put up a fuss ever since he was a baby. He wanted to grab the little boy and take him home, but of course, he knew that it was impossible.

  As he stood in front of his kitchen, he thought about the possibilities. He could call Magda. His ex-wife would probably understand what he was going through. But it was already midnight and she had her own life. Her own baby. He could open the bottle of brandy he had been keeping in the back of his pantry, closed until he had cause for celebration. He had saved a child. Wasn’t that celebration enough? He walked over to his pantry when his phone rang in his pocket. He didn’t want to pick up, believing that his ex-wife had already seen the news. Could the news have spread so quickly that Magda would already know? Robert certainly hoped not, but there was no way for him to know. Still, maybe she was grieving too. Maybe what he needed was to talk to another human.