Find all the parts to this story here.

Chapter 1: The Ride-Along

Part 3: Sam

Sam was about to respond when his radio beeped, then the dispatcher’s voice filled the car.

“Report of a 10-33 at 2200 Elm convenience store,” came the crisp female voice.
Sam picked up his radio. “Show 793 responding 10-12.” He gave the code for visitors present, alerting the dispatcher to be careful what she said to him over the radio. A security alarm going off at a corner store could be a problem, but was more than likely a false alarm. It seemed a safe thing to bring Sophie along, as long as she stayed in the vehicle until he made sure the scene was safe.

He glanced over at her, sitting motionless in the passenger seat. At least she no longer looked as stiff as a board. Maybe she, like him, needed something to focus on to get through painful social interactions. Sometimes it stunk, being so introverted. Chit-chat was not his forte.

“There’s an alarm going off at the convenience store,” he explained.

“Oh. That doesn’t sound good,” she replied with a furrowed brow and a nearly reverent tone.

“Could be nothing,” Sam shrugged. “Have you been there?”

“Sure, all the time. It’s nice to not have to go all the way to midtown when I just need a few things.”

“For this call, you’ll remain in the vehicle until I tell you otherwise. Understood?” Sam tried to keep a gentle tone, even though his words were rather harsh.

“I understand,” she said softly. “I don’t want to get in your way.”

With that, Sam pulled into the tiny parking lot behind the corner store and parked the cruiser near the back door. He got out with a little pang of something like regret. This was the first time he’d had a non-relative ride along with him, and it didn’t feel good leaving her in the car. At least she was in the front and could get out if needed.

What was he thinking? She lived in this neighborhood. She’d be fine. He physically shook his head to clear those thoughts as he walked in the front door and scanned the occupants of the room.

Two shoppers stood just inside the front door as though trying to decide if the alarm meant something or not. A young Hispanic man was at the register ringing up an elderly man’s purchases. The older man looked unbothered, while the young man was fidgeting – definitely ill at ease.

The owner, Raquel Ruiz, approached from the back room. Sam had met him several times before. He was tall and rail-thin, with dark hair that was slowly graying from the temples. He was always bursting with energy and life – and right now, with worry.

“Officer Harrison! Thank you for coming. I don’t know what happened, but it won’t let me turn off test mode, so I know something triggered the actual alarm…” Raquel chattered as he led Sam to the back room where Raquel’s desk and the alarm panel were tucked in a corner behind back-stock of nonperishables.

“See? It’s not the test light blinking,” Raquel pointed. Sure enough, it wasn’t, and when Sam squinted in the dim lighting, the code scrolling across the alarm panel’s tiny display was that of a tripped alarm on a window.

“Looks like someone opened a window somewhere, Raquel,” Sam reported. Raquel frowned and rubbed his chin, then took off like a jackrabbit examining all the windows in the back room.

“Here!” he yelled, before Sam had finished silencing the alarm. Sam joined Raquel and examined the broken window. It was cracked in a spiderweb outward from a central impact point.

Scanning the area, Sam noticed a plastic crate full of batteries on the floor near the window. Bending down, it was obvious one corner of the crate was cracked, and a piece had broken off.

“Raquel? I think this is your culprit,” he pointed. Raquel squatted and muttered something in Spanish.

“I will speak to Migo about this,” he said as he rose, a severe expression on his face. Sam tamped down his amusement.

Sam followed an angry Raquel back out into the store, noting the elderly man had left, and the two gawking shoppers by the door were now filling baskets. The young man at the checkout counter – Migo, apparently – was sweating profusely. He began to speak rapidly as they approached.

“Mr. Ruiz, I am so sorry about the window,” he gasped on a breath. Raquel held up his hand, quickly silencing the boy.

“Why did you say nothing?” he demanded harshly. Migo’s lower lip trembled for a minute before he raised his chin and put his shoulders back.

“I was ashamed and afraid. I am sorry.”

Sam was proud of the boy for admitting the truth. He left Raquel and Migo to work out the particulars of whether the window would come out of Migo’s pay or not and headed back to the car.

Keep reading! Part 1.4 can be found here on 2/25/25.

Find all the parts to this story here.

Chapter 1: The Ride-Along

Part 2: Sophie

“Tell me about your typical day, Officer Harrison,” Sophie launched into her first question as soon as Sam sat down. She felt so awkward about this whole thing, and her only saving grace would be focusing on the work. While she waited for him to answer, she pulled her trusty iPad and Apple pencil out of her book bag. She opened it to the notes page with her questions for today and prepared to write.

“Oh. Sure. At the beginning of our shift, we check in with either our sergeant or the lieutenant.” Sophie scribbled a note to ask about those rankings. “We learn about anything major that happened recently that we need to be aware of.”

Sophie noticed Sam paused a lot, as though giving her an opportunity to jump in. She fought a little smile that wanted to escape. She prided herself on being a good listener; she wouldn’t dare interrupt.

“Then we get our patrol assignments, which are usually the same thing.”
When she finished writing notes, Sophie waited a minute, but he didn’t continue. “Do you mean that you typically have the same route or list of tasks day-to-day, or multiple officers doing the same assignment?”

“Same route. And I guess the same tasks, but it’s really just one – keep an eye out and answer calls. So maybe two tasks. I have an area that I drive around.” He paused again, and Sophie waited.

“Some guys drive the exact same route through their patrol area. I think it helps them notice things that are out of place. I like to take a different route each day, so that I see the neighborhood from a different perspective. It also means I’m never in the same place at the same time two days in a row, preventing criminals from predicting my behavior and using that to their advantage.”

Sophie nodded and jotted in her own personal shorthand of sorts on the iPad. She rarely wrote down direct quotes, preferring to keep the gist of things on paper and the flow of the conversation in real life moving.

“On average do you respond more to calls or things you see personally while you’re out on patrol?”

“I would say more calls. People here are good about calling 911.”

Hmm. Good? That was unexpected. She’d have to chew on that thought. Sophie just assumed it was a bad thing if you had to call 911.

“What sorts of things will you end up doing? I assume you don’t stay in your vehicle all day.”

“Oh, a bunch of different things. Some days it’s boring. Maybe a traffic ticket or report of a break-in or theft.” Sophie shuddered. That was boring? Man, she had a lot to learn to master this assignment, but for now, she needed to focus, since Sam had continued speaking. “Some days there are fender-benders or even major accidents. Very rarely will we have something significant like armed robbery.”

She scribbled down some notes, preparing to ask about the police rankings, when Sam surprised her by turning the tables.

“Am I allowed to ask questions, too? I’d like to know more about this project you’re doing.”

His mellow voice lulled even as the content of his speech caused a hitch in her heart rate. Sophie excelled behind a computer, molding other people’s words and jobs and products into something beautiful and desirable. Talking to those other people about herself? Not her strong suit.

Work. Focus on the work.

“The company I work for, Jordan Designs, won a bid from the city council to update the city’s marketing. We’ll be touching everything from the website to the banners downtown, fliers in shops… Um, what else?” She drummed her fingers on her leg.

“How does that bring you here?” Sam asked.

“My boss assigned me this part of the project. I’m to collect data about the police department via interviews and this ride-along, then work with my team on the police department’s portion of the city rebranding.”

“I take it this is more than just a new font and colors, huh?” Sam gave a half-smile.

Sophie appreciated his attempt at understanding her job. “Yes, it is. New slogan and taglines, new graphics, and yes, new colors and fonts.”

Sophie glanced out the window and realized with a jolt that –

“This is my neighborhood!” she exclaimed in a half-whisper.

“It’s also my patrol area,” Sam supplied.

She had no idea how to feel about this. Her first reaction was a sense of injustice, but she knew not at what. That he knew where she lived? That he hadn’t told her when she mentioned her building? That she was somehow supposed to observe him in action on her own turf?

Except it didn’t feel like her turf. 8 months hadn’t been enough to make this area feel like home. Most days she went straight from work to her apartment and locked the doors.

Well, when she wasn’t out doing… other things.

She decided to keep all her thoughts to herself and refocus on her list of questions.
“Can you explain the hierarchy at the police station? You’ve mentioned a sergeant and a lieutenant,” she prompted.

He gave a nod. “Officers report to sergeants, sergeants report to lieutenants, lieutenants report to the captain. Captain runs the station, or precinct. There are 4 precincts in Williamson. The four captains report to the chief. Bigger cities have more layers between the captains and the chief, like maybe commanders or deputy chiefs. We’re small enough that we don’t need a bunch of managers. The chief has an assistant, and that’s about it.”

Sophie’s head was spinning faster than her fingers could move the digital pencil. Her notes looked like a barely-legible version of “off-sgt-lt-cap-chf”.

“So let me get this straight. You are an officer. So your boss is a sergeant?”

“Sort of. I mean, technically, yes, but my sergeant is also a detective, and more often than not he’s out doing his own thing. So the lieutenant is the one who briefs us at the beginning of shift and gives out assignments like this one.”

“Stuck with me by the grandboss, huh?” she smiled in a rare joking moment. Where had that come from?

He chuckled. “My enthusiasm must be obvious.”

Now she laughed out loud. “Very few people are enthusiastic about talking to a marketer unless they asked for it. I’ve heard the mayor was very receptive to my boss’s interview and suggestions, but I certainly don’t expect that response from everyone.”

“You expect people to dislike you?” He frowned, but she didn’t understand why.

“Sure,” she shrugged. “Comes with the job sometimes. I imagine it’s the same for you.”

Keep reading! Part 1.3 can be found here on 2/21/25.

We’re starting a new story today! I can’t tell you whether it’s more of a short story, a short novel, or a full-length novel, because I haven’t written all of it yet. So we will get to find out together. 🙂

Find all the parts to this story here.

Chapter 1: The Ride-Along

Part 1: Sam

Officer Sam Harrison glared at his offending laptop screen. This had to be a joke. He scoured the email header in hopes of finding an errant email address, but no such luck. It was actually from his boss’s account. Unbelievable.

“Harrison!” barked said boss, Lt. Mike Lehrer, from across the room. Sam jumped to his feet, shut his laptop none too gently, and strode into the lieutenant’s office.

“You see my email?” Lehrer spoke before Sam had crossed the threshold.

“Yes, sir.” Oh, how he wanted to object, but he knew he couldn’t argue and maintain the LT’s respect.

“Good. Report to the front desk. She’ll ride with you until 2p.m. Dismissed.”

Sam gritted his teeth and left the office, detouring to the vending machines before he went out front. He needed a minute, and maybe a Snickers. If second breakfast was a good thing for Sam Gamgee, it was good enough for Sam Harrison.

He finished the last swallow of the candy bar just before he reached the front desk. Seated in one of the visitor’s chairs – nasty, hard plastic things he wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole – was a tall, slender young woman wearing an ill-fitting gray suit coat and matching skirt with a plain white shirt underneath. Her hair, a nondescript brown, was twisted into a tight bun at the back of her neck. All she needed was a pair of glasses to look like a dowdy old librarian, Sam thought with a barely-contained grin.

“Sophie Lane?” he called as he stepped around the desk. Her head snapped back to look at him, the movement so quick she nearly cracked her head on the wall. She stood, stiff and straight, and offered a hand. Sam shook it and noted with mild surprise that she had a strong grip – for a skinny girl.

“I’m Sam Harrison. You’ll be riding with me today,” he introduced himself.

“Pleased to meet you, Officer Harrison,” she replied in a clear soprano voice. Huh. He liked her voice. Didn’t want to like anything about her, but there you go.

“You can follow me out to the car,” he said, waiting for her to grab her book bag before turning and walking out the front doors.

At least it was a beautiful spring day, unseasonably warm for the Midwest. He could roll the windows down and enjoy the fresh air. After the miserably long winter they’d had, they were due a nice spring. 50 degrees in late March? Yes, please.

Sophie pulled a lightweight down jacket out of her book bag and slipped it on as they walked to the cruiser. He supposed she didn’t have enough meat on her bones to stay warm. And why was he thinking about her body? Nope. Back to the weather. Or something else innocuous.

He cleared his throat. “So, do you live in the area?”

“I do. The Maple building on 5th.”

Sam knew the building well. He patrolled that area roughly three times a week. It was on the south edge of town, in a neighborhood that had seen better days several decades ago. Now most of the single-family homes there were owned by rental companies, the larger homes had been divided into multi-family dwellings, and the apartment buildings boasted cheap rent and appliances from 1982.

He took a glance at Sophie’s left hand, clutched tightly around her book bag strap. She was on her own? He frowned at that thought. He wouldn’t want a sister of his living in a neighborhood like that. He told himself it was purely platonic concern – he was responsible for the safety of the residents of Williamson, after all. Still, it didn’t sit well in his stomach, imagining her coming home to the Maple building in the dark of winter.

“How long have you lived there?” he asked next. Maybe she grew up in the neighborhood. That would change the dynamic.

“Since last July.”

There went that idea.

Woman of few words. How was he supposed to spend five hours driving around with a lady who barely put two words together? Ugh. He liked Lt. Lehrer’s idea even less at this point than he had when he first saw the email.

Arriving at the cruiser provided a brief respite. He opened the door for her and told her to keep her bag on the floor at her feet. There wasn’t a lot of spare room in a police cruiser, but she tucked herself in just fine. Sam walked around the car, blew out a breath, and climbed in behind the wheel.

Keep reading! Part 1.2 can be found here on 2/18/25.