Chapter 4
“I really need to shoot something,” Lainie spoke to Mike as they headed for their car.
“Have anything in mind?” Mike asked.
“Right now, I’m not particular.”
He laughed. “Good thing we’re due at the range.”
The morning had been busy with court; now they were scheduled for the range.
The department required all officers to qualify with their duty weapon four times a year.
While some officers saw the qualification as an interruption, Lainie loved going to the range for any reason.
A member of the PD pistol team, she was classified a sharpshooter—a 100 percenter.
Shooting helped center her thoughts and shut out stress or issues that bothered her.
“Hey, Lainie, Mike, how are you guys doing?” The rangemaster greeted them when they stepped inside the range office.
“Happy to be here today,” Lainie said as she prepared her target.
She and Mike were the only two officers at the range to qualify, so after their targets were ready, they stepped up to the firing line.
Officers qualified with handguns through a fifty-round course of fire, starting from the twenty-five-yard line, moving to the fifteen-yard line, then the seven-yard line, and finishing at the five-yard line.
Each stage was timed. They used a two-handed grip except at the fifteen-yard line, where they switched to one-handed shooting, first with the strong hand and then with the weak hand. A score of 80 percent was mandatory.
Lainie hadn’t shot below 100 percent in five years.
Mike was usually between 85 and 95 percent.
When they finished the handgun course, they moved to the other side of the range where a handgun/shotgun course was set up.
This was Lainie’s favorite. The course configuration changed every other quarter.
Today the emergency simulation was set up with a parked black-and-white patrol car at the start.
Officers began the course seated in the vehicle.
When time started, they had to unlock the shotgun, get out of the car, fire four shotgun rounds at metal targets, set the shotgun down, draw their handguns, and hurry through the course, using cover when it was provided, then fire at fifteen more targets, some of them moving.
Being timed bothered some people; Lainie knew that Sara didn’t like it. But Lainie loved the challenge and the plink sound when bullets struck the metal targets. The instant feedback when she hit every target was very gratifying. Again, she aced the course.
“Great job as usual, Lainie,” the rangemaster said. “She sure is carrying you there, Mike.”
Mike laughed. “Don’t I know it.”
Lainie felt better after qualifying, but she forgot to call Evie back.
It wasn’t until the weekend that her first Saturday off in months rolled around that she remembered.
Lainie slept in, not rising until nearly noon.
Evie came to mind while she was in the shower.
Head under the shower steam, water as hot as she could stand it, Lainie tried to think.
Why would Evie call except to ask her to some church thing?
Have I forgotten a birthday? Evie had twin boys. No, their birthday wasn’t for a couple of months.
Guilt rolled over her in a heavy wave. Though she and Evie had been close in the past, they didn’t talk often lately, and that was generally Lainie’s fault.
She remembered that it was Evie’s anniversary month.
For the first time since Evie had married Stan Moffit, they had the money to take a nice trip.
Lainie had heard that her sister was over the moon.
Evie probably called from Hawaii to gush with excitement over the trip.
Why else would she be calling while they were on vacation? Worry dissipated.
I’ll call her when I’m done here.
She dried off, dressed, and started a pot of coffee. Just as she picked up the phone, it buzzed with an incoming call. She read the caller ID, hoping it was Evie. It wasn’t. It was Stan Moffit, her brother-in-law.
Lainie’s mind sputtered, Stan and Evie should be happily vacationing. Lainie and Stan would never be described as close.
Uneasiness spread. He was not one of her favorite people. That he was reaching out could not be good news.
Reluctantly, she answered. “Stan?”
“Lainie, Lainie.” He sucked in a breath as if he were sobbing. He was outside, in the background she could hear wind buffeting the phone.
“What is it?”
“It’s Evie, Evie, she’s gone. Lainie, she’s gone.”
She’s gone.
The phone went cold in her hand. “What do you mean?”
“Dead, Lainie, dead. I lost her yesterday.”
Dead.
When that word registered, it was as if the world fell away from her feet. Lainie felt herself falling, with no bottom in sight.