Nora called out, "Nice looking uniform, officer."

Fred jumped, then turned toward her. Her long, blond hair with just a few strands going white billowed in the ocean breeze. The flowing hair framed a lovely face, marred only by laugh lines and barely detectable crow's feet. Her body looked like that of a woman too young for the facial lines and white strands of hair, but Fred knew she worked hard staying so fit and trim.

He said, "Sorry, Nora. I didn't see you approach. You came from the direction of my bad eye."

"Was it that? It looked like you were just lost in thought."

"I was," Fred agreed, thinking of how he'd often been surprised by people walking up to him when he was lost in thought long before he had lost his eye to a bullet a little over a year ago. He wondered if he had been using the missing eye as an excuse when he shouldn’t.

Nora sat down next to him on the wooden bench. She carried a paper bag, from which she got two submarine sandwiches.

Nora apologized, "Sorry I'm late, dear. The judge wouldn't let us go. I have onions on your sub just like you wanted, but don't expect me to kiss you afterward."

"I better do it now," Fred declared, leaning over.

After they kissed, they started eating.

Nora remarked, "Your former partner Joel will be testifying this afternoon."

"The Blackstone murder case, right?"

Nora nodded and admitted, "Other than saying I’m working for Mrs. Blackstone, I can't tell you more until it's over. What are you working on?"

"Breaking in a rookie named Sharon Smith."

Nora laughed and announced, "Somebody has to direct traffic and give speeding tickets."

"Stan and Ralph got stuck doing that today. After lunch, Sharon and I get to arrest a kid who didn't show up for trial."

"What’s he accused of?"

"Only shoplifting. He went into the large department store in Bayview Mall. He took clothes into a dressing room, where he pried off the sensor tags. He put on the new clothes right over his old clothes. He missed a sensor inside the cuff of the pants, though. He was arrested without incident by Stan, according to the report. The suspect was released into the custody of his mother. He was a no-show at his court date."

"Probably would just get probation, especially if he pays restitution."

"He's a first time offender and still a high school student. Only seventeen years old, so a minor. He's in more trouble for not showing up than the original crime."

"I don't understand people who miss a court date, even though I get some of them as clients. I wonder if he had an unrealistic idea of how severe his punishment would be," Nora said.

Frank put the second half of his sub back in the bag as he noted, "I don't know, but I've got a job to do. It doesn't get the publicity of high profile murder cases like Joel's doing, but it has to be done."

"Quit whining," Nora complained. "You told me yourself that you were offered the position Joel now has, but refused it."

Setting aside the bag, Fred stared back out at the choppy ocean, then said, "It was my choice, but sometimes living with it isn't so easy. I'm tired, Nora. The new officers like Sharon are so energetic and ambitious."

Nora swallowed, then remarked, "You can retire on disability. Why are you still doing police work?"

"I think I have something to teach the new officers. I had various older officers teach me when I first started, now I feel it's my turn."

"That's a wonderful reason," Nora said as she leaned over and kissed him.

Nora drew back and muttered, "Ick, the onions. Hey, aren't you going to eat the other half?"

"No. My uniform is a little tight, so I need to lose a few pounds."

"It probably just shrunk when washed."

Fred grinned back and said, "I wish, but scales don't lie."

"You're tall, so a few extra pounds don't show," Nora teased.

A Port City squad car pulled over on the road that followed the shore. It was about ten yards back from the bench.

A young, slender brunette woman in a blue uniform got out of the driver's side and yelled, "Hey, Fred. Lunch hour ended five minutes ago!"

Nora giggled, "Sharon?"

Fred nodded.

"I see what you mean about energetic. You're busted for taking too long at lunch."

Fred said to his girlfriend, "Well, it's off to find our shoplifter. Can we give you a ride to the courthouse?"

"No, court doesn't resume for half an hour yet. I'll sit for a bit. I'll see you tonight for dinner."

Nora again ignored the onions that Fred had been eating and gave him another kiss. He then sauntered over to the squad car. The wind from the ocean was chilly, but the sun beating down counteracted it. He enjoyed it here and wasn't anxious to get back to work.

Sharon complained, "Pick up the pace, will you? It can't be that bad leaving your girlfriend for a few hours. You two act like you’re still in high school."

Fred stopped and starred hard at Sharon, who still stood beside the driver's door.

Sharon wiggled her narrow body a bit, smiled, and declared, "You shouldn't look at me like that. Your girlfriend is watching us."

Fred asked, "Aren't you wearing your vest?"

Sharon blushed as she realized why Fred had gazed at her so intently and argued, "It’s optional."

Fred retorted, "If you're going to partner with me, you wear it. A vest already saved my life. I'll tell you about it as we go back and get yours. The shoplifter will wait."

Sharon got behind the wheel, but Fred motioned her to move over. As he drove back to the station, he told how his vest had stopped the shots to his chest, but not the one that took his eye. It had been a miracle there had been no detectable brain damage. Because he'd taken shots to the chest also, if he not been wearing his vest, he surely wouldn't be here telling the story.

Sharon had moved up to Maine from Massachusetts after graduating in May with a bachelor's degree from Boston University. That summer, she had completed the required academy training. The police academy was not located in Port City, as the city was too small, but was in a larger city. Now it was autumn. She'd only very recently moved to Port City itself. Otherwise, she would surely have heard this story before.

A little later, Fred stood in the hallway outside the locker rooms at the police station. Wearing a new business suit, Joel Robust came out of the men's locker room. Although Joel was a short and slender man, Fred thought the new and obviously expensive suit gave him far more presence. Joel saw Fred, came over, and slapped him on the arm.

Fred fingered the sleeve of Joel's suit and asked, "Did Irene finally throw out your old suits?"

"Something like that."

"It looks good," Fred said.

"I've got to testify. Figured it wouldn't hurt to look nice."

"I’ve been telling you that for decades! After I stop being your partner, you finally figured this out?"

Joel shrugged and offered, "I'm a slow learner. I see you’re back in uniform."

"Somebody has to do the real work."

Joel joked, "Work? You’re just standing around loafing."

Fred explained, "The rookie didn't wear her vest. I made her get it."

Joel put in, "We used to be young enough to think we were invulnerable too."

"I haven't felt invulnerable since I got shot."

Joel changed the subject, "You and Nora still on for this weekend?"

"Sure thing."

Sharon came out, tugging on her uniform.

Fred declared, "Sharon Smith, this is my former partner, Joel Robust."

Sharon stuck out her hand and said, "All the other officers talk about you. I wish I could work on homicide cases."

Joel shook her hand and responded, "In a city as small as Port City, there's not many of those. Look, I have to run. The judge won't be forgiving if I'm late."

Fred chuckled and said, "Don't I know it. We're off to pick up a guy who was so late for court that he never showed up."

Sharon put in, "Just a shoplifter. I wish I could talk to you about the Blackstone case."

Joel suggested, "You can come along on my sailboat this weekend. It'll hold five easily. Fred can tell you about it. Bye."

As Fred and Sharon walked out to the cruiser, she didn't ask about the boat. Instead, she asked, "Why are you doing trivial work when your former partner’s on the glamorous Blackstone case?"

Rather than give the long-winded answer he had given Nora about helping the new generation, Fred simply replied, "I wonder myself."

Later, Sharon looked out the car window at the run-down houses as Fred drove.

She said, "I’m glad I didn’t get an apartment in this part of Port City."

He informed her, "This used to be the prosperous area. About thirty years ago, the fish-canning factory closed. Those bricked-over buildings. The whole neighborhood fell apart."

Fred realized she was in her early twenties, so this was before she was even alive. He'd been twenty when the canning factory had closed and could easily remember it.

Fred pulled the car over by the curb next to a house. He watched approvingly as she took the mike of the car radio and called in their location to the dispatcher. They then got out. Weeds grew up in the cracks of the sidewalk that they walked down. Fred knocked at the door. Paint flaked so badly that just the knocking loosened tiny fragments that came drifting down. The Maine weather was hard on untended house paint.

A tired-looking middle-aged woman came to the door, leaving a screen door with badly torn screens still closed.

Fred asked, "Mrs. Lewis?"

The woman looked suspiciously back as she answered, "Yes, officers?"

Sharon explained, "Your son Eric didn't show up at his court date."

Mrs. Lewis said, "He's not very good at remembering appointments. It doesn't mean anything."

Fred declared, "I'm sorry, but by missing it, an arrest warrant was automatically issued. Since he's a minor, we have to bring you in too, ma'am. Does Eric's father live here?"

"Just me and my boy. May I see the warrant?"

Fred handed the form right through one of the large holes in the screen. She looked at it, then handed it back through. Tears stained her cheeks as she handed it back.

Fred commented, "We're just doing our duty, ma'am. Is he here?"

Mrs. Lewis pointed into the house and said, "He's in his bedroom. I'll get him for you."

Fred said, "I'd like to get him myself."

"If you say so. It's the door at the end of the hall," she said, unlatching the screen door.

A black cat was rubbing her leg. Mrs. Lewis used her foot to shove the cat back from the door. Assured the cat wasn't going to escape, Mrs. Lewis held the screen door open.

Fred whispered to Sharon, "Go around in back just in case the kid tries to run."

She whispered back, "Over such a minor charge?"

"Kids do dumb things. By not showing up at court, this kid..."

"Got it," Sharon interrupted.

While she headed off, Fred entered. He instructed Mrs. Lewis to put. He then walked down the threadbare carpet to the closed door. He rapped on it.

A voice came through the door, "Go away, Mom! I'm sleeping, and I don't care if it's after noon."

"Eric, I am Officer Vigeretti with the Port City Police. You missed your court date."

The voice said, "That’s next week."

"Afraid not," Fred flung back. "Open the door, please."

"I'm putting my pants on."

From the back of the house, Sharon's voice yelled, "He's coming out the window."

Fred jiggled the knob. The door was locked, so he kicked it. Wood splinters flew from the jamb as the door surged in. A young man with an unbuttoned long-sleeved plaid shirt, not tucked in, and blue jeans had yanked the screen out of the window. Fred thought about how young...and often stupid...high school students can be.

Fred ordered, "Stop that! You aren't charged with much of a crime. You're making it far worse. Let's just go downtown and get this straightened out."

Eric dropped the screen and then said, "All right, officer. Shall I put my hands behind my back like this?"

Getting out his handcuffs, Fred ordered, "No, put your hands on your head."

Eric's hand came out from his back holding a gun. Fred realized he must have had it tucked in the small of his back, hidden under the loose and unbuttoned plaid shirt. Fred dropped his handcuffs. In the small room, the gun’s roar was deafening. Fred felt a kick in the center of his chest. He felt certain he knew what was coming next--the shot to the head. However, Eric turned away and stuck the gun out the screen-less window. He fired. A woman screamed. Eric hadn't noticed that Fred had just staggered back a step. Fred fired twice. One shot to the boy's chest, followed immediately by one to the head. Eric's gun fell out the open window as he bounced off the window sill, then collapsed to the floor.

Fred checked carefully at the neck artery. Eric was down...forever. He realized he'd just ended the life of a high school kid.

Fred yelled out the window, "Sharon, I got him. Are you okay?"

Sharon screamed, "He shot me! A fat lot of good the vest did! My leg really hurts!

"I'll be out in a moment," Fred said.

He reached down and retrieved his handcuffs, although Eric wouldn't be needing them. He then grabbed his portable radio. He shouted about an officer down, followed by various ten-codes. As he talked, he hurried out of the room. Mrs. Lewis still stood by the screen door.

"I heard firecrackers," she said.

Fred ignored this as he kept talking into his portable radio.

She demanded, "What happened?"

Fred stopped using the small radio and snarled, "Anybody else in the house?"

"Just my son and his cat."

"Come with me."

Once out of the house, Fred took the trouble of handcuffing the mother's hands behind her.

She demanded, "What am I being arrested for?"

With the handcuffs now on her, Fred ordered, "You aren't arrested. We'll discuss it later. Get into the back of the car."

"I have a right to know what I'm being charged with!"

"Lady, my partner’s bleeding! Move!"

She jumped in. Fred slammed shut the door. She immediately started banging the locked car door. He ignored this as he grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk, then ran toward the back of the house.

As he reached Sharon, he saw that she was bleeding badly from her upper right thigh. He used a pressure bandage to slow the bleeding.

She was still conscious and asked, "Did you kill him?"

"Don't move your leg. Yes, I did."

A police car screeched to a stop. Fred could just see it around the edge of the house. He saw Maureen Mackenzie and Dave Johnson jump out.

Still crouched down holding the bloody bandage, Fred shouted at them, "I haven't cleared the house! The kid's mother is locked in my squad car. She claims nobody else is inside."

Dave yelled back, "You're supposed to clear the house before giving aid."

Drawing her gun, Maureen said, "Later, Dave. Ready?"

Dave drew his own gun and nodded, then both officers entered the house.

Sharon had her eyes closed and was breathing shallowly.

"Wake up, Sharon!" Fred yelled, but her eyes remained closed.

An ambulance pulled to a stop at the curb. EMT's jumped out. They had him move back so they could work on her. From inside the house, he could heard noises.

Maureen shouted so loudly that Fred clearly heard her outside the house, "Stop it, Dave! It's just a cat!"

Apparently frightened by this yelling, the cat leaped out of the open, screen-less window of Eric's bedroom. The creature landed on the lawn, then looked up accusingly at Fred and hissed.