Her Kind Of Hero. Carol Steward

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       Chapter One

      Calli Giovanni walked through the stained-glass doors praying that she would someday experience the peace of forgiveness.

       Why can’t I let it go?

      “You can’t get discouraged,” her cousin Hanna said, following her through the doors. “Don’t expect healing to happen all at once. It isn’t easy. Like tonight’s speaker said, it’s one miserable step at a time. For tonight, go home. Stop patrolling.”

      “I can’t, Hanna. I would think you’d understand. He was my kid brother. I want justice served. I can’t let it go.”

      “I do understand, Calandre. More than you think.” Hanna took Calli by the shoulders. “Who can’t you forgive, Calli? The killer? Or yourself, for not seeing Mike slip out of the house?”

      Calli turned and stared into her cousin’s moist eyes. “Neither.” Her own tears dried up years ago. All that was left was this numbness. She was an emotional zombie.

      “Don’t you see what this is doing to you?” Hanna asked.

      “It’s not worth it. You don’t laugh. You don’t cry. You barely exist.” Hanna paused, then unlocked her car door. “Go home. It’s time for you to stop.”

      Calli never finished her college degree. Her brother had been killed at the beginning of her last semester. She’d set new priorities. Priorities that cost her dearly. Her family, her fiancé, her happiness. All in hopes of finding answers. “That’s easier said than done.”

      Hanna hugged Calli. “You can do it. Just don’t give in. Sorry I have to rush off, but I’m expecting a call at ninethirty. Take care.” Her petite cousin slid into her sports car and waved.

      “That’s my problem, Han. I don’t ever give up. I don’t know how.” Calli took off her down-filled coat and tossed it into the passenger’s seat, her voice a whisper into the darkness. She watched Hanna drive away without a care in the world. “It’s cost me everyone I loved, and I still can’t let it go.”

      Her mother, father, older brother and even her sister were like distant relatives. They had put the past behind them and moved on. Recovered. Only she was stuck trying to erase the shadows lurking in her mind. Fighting the unknown in a city of dark corners and unlit alleys. Doing the only thing she could to avenge her brother’s death.

      Thinking of Mike, she closed the door and reached under her seat. Calli pulled out a zippered bag and stared at it, considering giving up on this thankless mission. She zipped the pouch open and emptied the contents into her lap. “Just one patrol before I head home. Maybe tonight’s my lucky night.” She tugged the long blond wig over her own hair and covered her lips with tropical punch-colored lipstick. Horn-rimmed glasses completed the disguise. Good grief, I even look like Aunt Calandre.

      It was a quiet night in Palmer, Colorado. Calli spent over an hour cruising without anything to report. Feeling a sudden chill, she reached for the heat control, only to find it was already set on high and pumping hot air into the small compartment. Calm down, Cal. There’s not even any action.

      As she continued down the alleys and streets lined with dilapidated buildings, Calli prayed. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me.”

      She perused the business district, then paused to consider what she was doing before turning toward the city’s core. It was a neighborhood within a neighborhood. A place where nothing was sacred. Not property, not values and especially not human life.

      The only thing flourishing here was the Eastsiders, a gang that preyed on the weak and helpless.

      Maybe they would provide her with some clues. After all, that was the gang her brother had allegedly been joining when the “initiation” went too far.

      Adrenaline pulsed through her veins as she turned into the parking lot of a dimly lit apartment complex. Her breathing became shallow and ragged. Why do I keep doing this? Is it even worth it anymore?

      A shiver raced up her spine and Calli quickly glanced left, then right. The rays of the streetlight reflected off of the glistening ground. She dialed “911 send” on her cellular phone just as three figures bolted from the icy parking lot toward the apartments, dodging cars and jumping wobbly handrails. “Gotcha.”

      One threw a small crowbar at her, hitting the front fender.

      “911 Emergency.”

      “Columbia Boulevard and 15th Street.” Calli swallowed, trying to smooth her raspy voice as it scratched through the wires. “The Willows Apartments. There’s broken glass everywhere.”

      One teenager slipped and fell to the ground. Calli skidded to a stop inches from him. He got up and looked at her, his dark eyes filled with fear. He glanced behind him, then stumbled ahead to where his cohorts had disappeared.

      “Ma’am, are you there?” the 911 operator repeated.

      Calli’s heart pounded faster and she dragged in another breath. Shadows wrapped their arms around her. Streetlights flickered. Vines covered apartment windows like victorian lace curtains. Calli shivered. Where’d they go?

      “Are you okay?”

      “Fine. I’m fine. Three kids…” Calli pressed on the accelerator. She searched beyond the tinted glass for any movement as she drove slowly toward the exit to conclude the loop. She wanted desperately to leave before the officers arrived, armed with endless questions and expectations.

      “They’re wearing dark clothing, bulky coats.” She paused, hoping to recall more. “One wore a starter jacket…and a bandanna. A blue bandanna.” She turned the last corner before the exit. “They weren’t very tall. Around sixteen, maybe younger.”

      The woman stopped her and repeated the information, then asked for more details.

      Calli knew the more she could remember, the better the chance that justice would be served. “One had bleached blond hair, the other two had dark hair. I think one’s hurt.”

      Sirens wailed in the distance, then abruptly stopped. They’d be here any minute. Time to go. Calli thought of the gang’s leader with a wretched sense of pleasure. Another bust. She may not be able to find the proof she needed to put the gang’s leader away, but she could make Tiger’s “work” more difficult.

      She stepped on the gas pedal but it was too late. A white police car fishtailed as it rounded the curve. It slid on the ice and headed toward her.

      Calli pumped the brakes. Time stopped, and the terror seemed to continue in slow motion. It was no use. Her tires couldn’t grip.

      She pressed the brakes again. Harder. Still nothing. Finally she slammed her foot to the floorboard and gripped the steering wheel, directing her skid away from the police cruiser.

      Her four-wheel drive slammed into the curb and jerked to a stop. Seconds later, the officer pulled closer and rolled down his window. The set of his strong, square jaw personified authority. She couldn’t look away from the deep-set eyes and rugged features that expressed sincere concern.

      Trembling, Calli opened her window. The dark-haired officer leaned out of his car. “Are you okay?”

      She nodded stiffly, and they drove on, into the parking lot. Pull yourself together, Cal. Get going. She shifted into first and stepped on the gas.

      The truck didn’t budge.

      Depressing the clutch, Calli turned the key. “Come on, start.” Without allowing the engine to settle into an even idle, she pulled away.

      “That was too close for comfort. I’ve got to get out of here. Where’s the phone?” She found