Lieutenant Woods —

Time and time again, when you get knocked down, you have to get back up. Take the beating and stand tall, whether you are proud or not. 

I am paraphrasing, but that is the mindset they preach here, more or less.n

“Woods…?”

“Hmmm?”

“We haven’t heard from you yet. Care to give it a shot?”

“Nah, I am good.”

Not this time. Maybe next time…

“Alright, that’s fine,” the chair said, glancing around. “What about you? You’re new as well. Virgil, was it?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Taking to the figurative mic to open up was indeed a fresh face—a young one likely around his mid-twenties. He wore shades and a relatively cool leather jacket if I had to say so. He had a great deal of loose curly hair with a bit of grease to make it shine, but not too much with really low-trimmed sides. He was of mixed complexion.

“I work a lot. The person I work for is very generous towards me because I am very good at my job.”

“What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?” The chair asked. 

“Mechanic. Family business. I love fixing cars. Sometimes, they break down, but they just need extra love. Whether it’s the exhaust or transmission—don’t matter how dirty you get; when things need fixing, they need fixing. My dad was a great fixer—a proud one. I respect him for that. Taught me a few lessons, but ultimately, you learn on the job, am I right?”

Several nods came from the folks within the circle. Myself included.

“You love for your dad?”

“Not really,” the individual said, scratching his nose. “I mean, I have love for him. But, um, he is a troublesome one. Always arguing with me mum. They are not together anymore. Surprise, but I suppose that is for the better. Me and himshared my first drink. It happened when I got old enough, well, mostly. The real reason was that I got into my first fight with some neighborhood bullies. I won, and he gave me toast. One of the few times he was proud of me. The smile it put on my face even though I had a tooth missing.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead…”

“I am sorry—”

“No, it’s fine. We weren’t all that close, but I guess that is why I drink now. To re-live that moment as if it brings himback.”

Several fingers snapped throughout the room as the chair spoke of his bravery in sharing his story. I will give him that, being brave, but I couldn’t give him the snap. I just couldn’t.

My thoughts were elsewhere, I guess you can say. 

With the meeting wrapped up, I sat around while the rest headed off to who knows where. The chair, the one who moderates the meetings, came over to me instead. Her gentle gaze, with her grays, left no doubt that she was a sage, happy to impart encouragement and advice at every turn. To her, we were the kids who needed guidance.

“Woods, yes…?”

“Yeah…”

“I know it’s hard, but I assure you, no one will judge you here.”

“Mmmm,” I groaned. “I don’t know. I don’t feel like talking.”

“And that’s fine. You coming here is the first step of a long journey.”

“I guess…”

“Everything else okay at home?”

Funny. Is she referring to the new roommate who’s timid and doesn’t really say all that much? Who sticks to her side of my place, only asking for the bare necessities. Doubtful, given that she would not know of that. So I suppose the chair is referring to the one who recommended that I come here. My own kid suggesting that I have a problem. It’s not a problem, given that I got it down to a science—two swigs of rum. A shot of whiskey with some smooth jazz to chase it down. That’s one great start to an evening.

As for how Siri got this thing sorted, my best guess is that she helped the chair out or something along those lines. It doesn’t matter. I’m just here to humor her so that she won’t get on my case for taking one drink here and there.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I finally offered.

“Okay, but if you ever need to talk…”

“Yeah, I’ll give you a call.”

As she strolled off, a voice chimed. 

“She’s sweet on you,” spoke the young man with shades. “You two know each other personally? Any history?”

“No, she is just kind,” I answered. “Unlike you. How much of that was even true?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t. So what now?”

“Simple, come with me, as we discussed.”

The morning had been rather busy. Virgil had the pleasure of introducing himself on my way here. Winslet personally invited me to attend Luca’s wake. I would have rejected it flat out if not for Virgil being ever persuasive.

“Are we going, or should I go pay that woman friend you have at your place—”

“First, can you act like you have never seen her for me? Second… Let me grab my coat.”

The drive was quiet. Through uptown and out of the city—about thirty minutes, into the tranquil beauty of Bogs Neck, where nature unfolded in all its splendor, highlighted by a grand estate that looked fit for royalty. A vibrant crowd gathered, with dozens of cars parked all around.

Virgil guided me into the main hall, where the guests’ eyes fell on me, their attention palpable. My arrival surprised everyone—not just me but the family and other attendees. Eventually, I managed to tune them out. I searched for Winslet, catching sight of her standing by the casket. Melancholy clung to her like an accessory.

He is Winslet’s brother-in-law, Ronnie D. Winters, the head of the family, which also means head of all of the family operations.

“Please, not now,” Ronnie offered in a hush as if trying to keep his voice low. “You’re grieving, I understand. But not now.”

“And why not? He’s my son. Your FUCKING NEPHEW! Don’t you dare act like you’re in more pain than me? Someone needs to answer for this!”

“And they will, but…” Ronnie’s words trailed off, his gaze tracing over his shoulder to meet mine. “What’s this? Why is he here? What is wrong with you?”

“Ahh, so my actions do seem crazy?!” Winslet shot.

“I told you, this is not the place! Especially not the time! I will hear everything you have to say after—”

“After what? Another family meeting that you so seem to keep me from. Every fucking time, Ronnie! You listen and listen well! You better not be letting them whisper in your ears, sweet nothings.”

“Whispering what exactly?” Ronnie asked, slightly frustrated. They were clearly in the middle of some heated words before my arrival.

Winslet smacked Ronnie’s chest with a decent amount of force. A sound leaving many to snap their attention in their direction for all to see. Her face twisted in pain with a mix of sadness. Tears flowed down her cheek, messing up her wingtip mascara.

“I know, Winslet. I said I was going to protect him, and I failed you. I am sorry! But everything will be fine now.”

“Fine?! Does this look fine?!”

Ronnie combed his fingers through his straight black hair. His face was stoic, yet cracking ever so slightly, as he stifled a sniffle.

“What more do you want from me?”

“Tell me you want me to go; I know what they say behind my back.”

“Winslet…”

“TELL ME!!!”

Winslet backed up, only for Ronnie to reach out to her. She was trying to fight back but ultimately gave up as he embraced her.

“Stop it,” Ronnie said, easing her. “Reggie loved you. You are part of this family, which means you’re part of my family. I am so sorry, alright! Please…”

Murmurs could be heard from all corners of the estate.

“First, poor Reggie, then Luca.”

“I tell ya, she must be cursed or something.”

“Ronnie should send her away to IronStone, or I fear he is next.”

Several hours had passed since the service began, and while a fair amount of time had elapsed since my arrival, only a few—very few—had offered me even a handful of words. Most were absorbed in hushed, weighty conversations, though one guest shattered the somber atmosphere entirely by smashing a bottle over another’s head, earning an unceremonious ejection for such indecency. It was a funeral, after all, and such behavior was unbefitting of a family so meticulously wrapped in airs of refinement. Those truly prideful among them took their disputes behind closed doors, where their secrets—and their tempers—could be contained appropriately.

Luckily, I wasn’t alone in bearing such sights. Virgil lingered around, highlighting certain influential members who held significant sway in these halls, even with Ronnie being the head of it all. Some folks appeared rather pompous and prim, while others carried a wry demeanor, seemingly on edge. My front-row seat eventually was interrupted when Virgil mentioned that Winslet was asking for me. She wanted a word. There she was, standing on the second-floor balcony, casting her gaze over the main hall, her view significantly better than mine.

“Want anything to drink?”

“I, umm, no. I really shouldn’t. On the job.”

“It’s punch, not poison.” Her face soured for a moment before returning back. “Tell me, Lieutenant Woods, when you look out, what do you see?”

“A very beautiful service with many people gathering together for a loved one. Luca must have been—”

“Wrong.” Her finger traced along the brim of her glass as she slowly looked over those beneath her. She brought a face of lostness to me before posing another question. “Did you know I am an outsider to these people?”

Winslet married into the family to Ronnie’s younger twin brother Reggie. Several years later, their first and only child came into this world. Thankfully, the walls are pretty loud here, so I got the gist and then some that I was not too keen on before

Many people whisper Winslet is cursed never to love or be loved. Her son is dead. Her husband is dead. She alone is the only other important figure within the family empire besides Ronnie. If I didn’t know any better, it’s fair to assume the outsider was coming, knocking heads one after another, to usurp the throne. At least, that is the popular opinion from the whispers I managed to hear. Yet…

“I loved Reggie. More than anyone I ever thought that I could. Not at first, because everyone I knew called me crazy. It took a toll on me as a child, so call me skeptical when anyone shows any kindness towards me. That’s why Reggie stood out. He never once called me that—crazy... He didn’t care what anyone said about me, nor about what those had to say about him for falling in love with an outsider. He was the one person who looked at me for who I was. So when he died, I was not sad. No, no, no. No, I was furious. Angry with a wrath that could burn down hell itself. Then came our child, Luca. And again, I was shocked that I could love someone so much. So when certain folks openly criticized Luca’s standing as a member of this family, well, it fucking pissed me off. It’s one thing for it to be me, but flesh and blood. My son?! My Luca?! He was perfect! PERFECT!”

Tears began swelling again upon Winslet’s face. She had to take another moment, this time trying her hardest to fight back the emotions that were bubbling to the surface.

“Do you have any children of your own, Lieutenant? The love that takes hold of you when you would do anything for them. That’s a fucking curse, I tell you.”

“Mrs. Winters…” I said cautiously. “About the other night…”

“What? Did you find anything else out?”

“Well…as you know, the marks on his body looked to be done by a huge dog. But I must ask… If there is anything you know…”

“And what would I know?”

“Apologies. Never mind.”

A hesitation came over me. Maybe I was seeing things. 

As I stood there searching my thoughts, someone came over to whisper into Winslet’s ear. Her brow raised before telling me to follow her and Virgil to a private room on the other side of the estate, away from the guests’ eyes.

A few of the extended family were already present. Amongst them was one whose face was swollen and riddled with deep cuts and slashes. It was hard to tell at first, but upon closer look, I recognized him.

“Gianni,” Ronnie said, checking his nails. “Would you care to repeat that?”

“Ronnie, what’s this?” Questioned Winslet.

“Ahh, you’re here. The Lieutenant, too. Certain information has come to my attention. Gianni, you care to explain?”

“A-apologies, Boss…”

Winslet’s gaze traced over sharply to the man pressed against the wall who had been so eager to chop my balls off and feed them to me the other night. 

“Gianni, tell her what you told me,” Ronnie chimed. I will let you keep your manhood. I am sure Sophia would very much appreciate that.”

“Sophia?! Did you find her?”

“No, I didn’t find her. Gianni here did. That’s why he was so late this morning.”

Gianni gurgled, his nose leaking as the few who held him against the wall eased up for him to breathe. His strained words were barely coherent for us to make out.

“I-I…”

“Out with it,” Ronnie advised. His brow was heavy with a look of discontent ever so present.

“I-I found her wandering the streets by my apartment. Her clothes were tattered…”

“That’s it?” Winslet asked. “Is that really it?”

“No, no. She was pretty banged up. She isn’t alright at all, Boss. Clawing at her skin and whatnot. Spoke of some monster that attacked her—”

“Tell her!” Ronnie snapped. “Tell her how you decided of your own free will to drive her to the hospital before telling any of us this.”

“Ronnie, that is a bit unfair, is not,” Winslet asked. “From the sound of it, Gianni did what he thought was best. You can’t blame him for that.”

Ronnie clicked his tongue before taking a moment to pace in place. 

“Everyone, gather your things. We will head over there now! If she has answers to what happened to my nephew, then I want to know!”

“You will frighten her as you are now, Ron. Leave it to the Lieutenant here.”

All eyes fell on me from Winslet’s suggestion.

“What? He will not be going anywhere near her before me.”

“Yes, he will! Whether you like it or not, I am sure Sophia would prefer to speak to him before you, given how you are!

Ronnie studied Winslet’s face momentarily before turning to the men at Gianni’s side. One gesture, and they cut him loose. 

As he left the room, Winslet straightened Gianni’s jacket. 

“Clean yourself up and get some rest,” she told him before turning to me. She paused momentarily, taking the opportunity to ensure it was as dramatic as possible.

“When she wakes and can talk, you will receive a call.”

“Okay… Is that all?”

“For the time being, stay and enjoy yourself. We’ve been passing drinks around for far too long, and the food seems to have attracted too many flies. Things will only get livelier around here as the night approaches.”

A loud sound came from the hall as the words escaped her lips. Quickly shuffling to see, various eyes like mine went wide.

“Would you look at what we have here?” Ronnie asked, wiping his hands. 

“Apologies, I-I will leave I—”

The individual lying on the floor received several kicks to hush while Ronnie handed over the camera he found to another to dispose of. 

“I loathe folks from the press. Our family is going through some trying times, and you come in here?! Our home?! For what—the tabloids?”

I felt a hand pull the sleeve of my arm, Winslet drawing me closer.

“It’s best that you not look as an officer of the department. If you do…” What she told me next left me somewhat rattled. Information can be a dangerous thing—a double-edged sword.

Maybe it’s time for that drink now.