Chapter Five #2
“Absolutely.” He nods, sipping his iced tea.
“I don’t know about in Atlanta, but up here it’s all good humored ribbing.
I pick on my brother for napping during his shift, and he accuses me of eating all the donuts in Golden Peak.
We’re both just trying to help people, but firemen don’t arrest people and we do.
There’s bound to be resentment from the public there because of that. ”
We eat in comfortable silence for a while.
I notice I’m not rushing to finish and leave, the way I usually do when I eat with other people.
The quiet between us has a different quality than silence with anyone else.
It doesn’t feel empty or awkward. It just feels easy.
It kind of worries me. I don’t want to get too attached to Liam.
I don’t even know if I’ll stay in Golden Peak.
It’s possible it’ll be too quiet for me, who knows?
After lunch we catch a few minor calls before a bigger one comes in.
“Unit 12, we have a 10-16 at 118 Birch Street. Female caller reports her neighbor is yelling, sounds of breaking glass. Possible domestic.”
Liam taps his mic. “Unit 12 responding.” He meets my gaze. “That’s Randy Schultz’s place. I think I mentioned him yesterday as one of our repeat offenders.”
“I think you did, yeah.”
“Randy’s got a temper and a drinking problem.
” Liam flips on the lights but not the siren.
“We’ve arrested him many times, but his wife Donna keeps letting him come back home.
The last few times we’ve been out there she’s downplayed what happened.
When she does that it makes it tough to keep her safe. ”
My stomach tightens. Domestics are the most dangerous calls we respond to, and the most frustrating. They also bring back a lot of unpleasant memories for me. “Do they have kids?”
“One. A boy named Tyler. He’s almost seven.”
“Damn.”
We pull onto Birch Street. It’s a modest neighborhood, small houses with chain-link fences and older trucks in the driveways.
Number 118 is a tan ranch-style with an American flag hanging limp from the porch rail.
The front door is closed, but even from the street I can hear raised voices.
Male, aggressive. Something crashes inside.
Liam and I exchange a look. No words needed. We’ve only worked two days together but the communication is already there. He’ll take the lead since he knows the family. I’ll play backup.
We approach the front door. Liam knocks firmly. “Golden Peak Police. Open the door, please.”
The yelling inside stops abruptly. There’s a stretch of silence that makes my skin crawl. Then footsteps, heavy ones, and the door jerks open.
Randy Schultz is a big man, thick through the shoulders and chest, with a ruddy face and small bloodshot eyes. He’s human, mid-forties, wearing a flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up. His knuckles are red.
“What do you want?” His breath reeks of whiskey.
“We got a call about a disturbance,” Liam says calmly. “Mind if we come in and have a word?”
“Everything’s fine.” Randy braces one arm against the doorframe, blocking the entrance. “Just a disagreement. You know how it is with women. My bitch of a wife always makes a problem where there is none.”
Behind him, I catch a glimpse of the living room. Broken glass on the carpet. An overturned coffee table. And further back, a woman standing in the kitchen doorway. She’s holding a dish towel pressed to her mouth.
“How about we come in and talk to Donna too?” Liam’s voice is level. “Just to make sure everyone’s all right.”
“There’s no need. Everything is peachy-keeno here. Why don’t you go catch some actual criminals instead of harassing me?”
“If nothing bad is happening why not let us in?” I ask casually.
Randy’s gaze snaps to me. “Oh, you must be the new guy. Maybe because you’re new in town you don’t realize I’m one of the good guys around here. I’m a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen.”
I hold his hostile gaze. “Even so, is it a problem for us to speak with your wife?”
“Yeah it’s a problem because it’s my fucking house,” he growls. “You cops are always hassling me over nothing. I didn’t invite you onto my property, so get lost.”
“Now come on, Randy,” Liam says in a cajoling tone. “You don’t have to be like that. We’re here because we got a call. I know you and Donna have been arguing. We could hear you from outside the house when we drove up. We need to talk to Donna too, I’m sure you understand.”
“Hell no I don’t understand,” Randy rasps. “You’re not coming in my house and that’s final.”
“Randy.” Liam’s voice drops half a register carrying unmistakable authority. “You know the drill. We aren’t leaving until we’ve confirmed everyone in this house is safe. That includes Donna and Tyler. Now, you can let us in, or we can do this a different way. Your choice.”
Randy’s jaw works. For a moment I think he’s going to slam the door in our faces.
Then he steps back with a disgusted grunt. “Fine. Come in and see for yourselves. Nothing’s going on.”
The living room is worse than it looked from the door. A lamp is shattered on the floor. There’s a dent in the drywall near the hallway, fresh from the look of the crumbled plaster beneath it. A framed family photo lies face-down on the carpet, the glass cracked.
Liam moves past Randy toward the kitchen. “Hey, Donna. You okay?”
“Hi, Liam.” She lowers the dish towel from her mouth. Her bottom lip is split and swelling. She nods quickly, her eyes darting to Randy. “I’m fine. I just tripped.”
“You tripped,” I repeat flatly, and Liam gives me a warning glance.
“Yes.” Her voice wobbles. “It’s nothing.”
I scan the kitchen and spot a small boy sitting at the table, hunched over a coloring book.
He’s gripping a crayon so hard his knuckles are white, and he’s not coloring.
He’s just staring at the page with the rigid stillness of a kid who’s learned that being invisible is the safest option. I know the feeling well.
Liam is talking with Donna so I move to the boy.
“Hey, buddy.” I crouch down near the table, putting myself at his level. “That’s a cool picture of a dinosaur.”
He doesn’t look up. “Thanks,” he whispers.
“What kind is it?”
“T-Rex.”
“Yeah? That’s my favorite dinosaur.” I keep my voice soft. Steady. I don’t want him to panic just because we showed up. I remember how terrifying I found the cops at his young age. It always felt like they made things worse.
Behind me, Liam is still talking to Donna in a low voice, drawing her away from Randy’s line of sight. Randy stands in the living room doorway, arms crossed, radiating resentment.
“What more is there to talk about, Liam?” Randy calls. “She said she’s fine.”
I stand and turn to face him. “Mr. Schultz, we can’t just leave. Your wife has a split lip and there’s significant property damage in your living room. We need to document this.”
“Document what? She tripped,” he snarls, taking a step toward me. “You’re in my house and you think you’re going to boss me around?”
“We’re just here to help,” I say, tensing as he takes another step closer. Being a shifter, I’m way stronger than him, but the last thing I want is to get into a brawl with the guy.
Randy curls his lip. “You don’t know me. You don’t know my family.” He gets in my face, and I swear my nose hairs singe. “You’ve been in this town five goddamn minutes—”
“Randy, are you for real right now?” Liam’s voice is harsh as he appears beside me. His presence is solid and grounding. “Take a step back. Right now. You’re acting way too aggressive to my partner, and you’re not helping yourself any by acting like a fool.”
Something in Liam’s tone gets through. Randy takes a step back, his chest heaving. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, but his gaze is on the ground now. “This is bullshit,” he mutters, but he takes a few more steps back.
Liam looks at me. “You good? I just have a few more things to discuss with Donna.”
“Of course I’m good,” I say confidently. “Go talk to Donna. Me and Randy will just hang out here.” Randy mumbles but doesn’t challenge my statement.
Liam nods and guides Donna down the hallway toward a back room. Randy drops onto the couch, seething but contained. I position myself where I can see both him and the boy.
The minutes stretch out. Randy mumbles to himself about people minding their own business.
The boy still hasn’t moved. I want to tell him it’s going to be okay, but I don’t.
I remember how hollow those words sounded when adults said them to me.
Plus, if his mother doesn’t do something to stop the abuse, things won’t be okay.
So instead of giving him empty words, I just stay nearby.
Present. Visible. A buffer between him and his asshole father.
Liam comes back with Donna. Her eyes are red but there’s something firmer in her expression. Like maybe she’s made a decision.
“Okay, Randy, here’s what’s going to happen,” Liam says evenly. “Donna and Tyler are going to move in with her sister for the time being—”
Randy shoots to his feet. “The hell she’s leaving with my kid!”
Liam ignores his outburst. “I should also let you know that Donna has agreed to let us photograph her injuries this time around.”
“What injuries?” Randy sneers, moving toward us. “That bitch purposely walked into the wall right before you got here. She’s…. she’s trying to get me in trouble.”
I grit my teeth and my muscles tense as Randy advances. I don’t want to overreact and escalate the violence, but I also won’t stand by and let him attack the others. Situations with violent drunks like Randy are complicated. There’s no clear playbook. You have to operate on instinct.
I step in his path, and hold out my arm. “Hold up. Stay here,” I say gruffly. “Give your wife some space, Mr. Schultz.”
He stops walking, but he bunches his fists. “Get out of my way. She’s my wife. You have no business getting between us.”