Kenhardt - Secrets 9

Joe helped her tidy up, then grabbed his beer and headed into the living room to turn on the television. Anything to get his mind off this case and give him a bit of reprieve. That was probably the most difficult part about being a detective. You never truly left the office. It followed you home, followed you everywhere. Never giving you rest, never giving you peace of mind. Every waking second is spent thinking about victims or cases, solved and unsolved. They stay with you, haunt you, taunt you. It’s miserable, but that’s how it goes. He needed to get away from it all because he knew it was bothering Jordan. When Joe was upset, Jordan was upset. Like he said, they were in sync. So even if he tried to fake it and be happy, his misery would spread on to her, wallowing in between them like a disease. Sadness. Dismay. Death. He needed to stop thinking about it because Jordan was catching on that something else was amiss. And although she already knew about his own personal tragedy, he didn’t want her to have to bring it up again. To attempt to console him about something that one can never truly heal from. Joe barely thought about it himself. It was too difficult. So he did his best to push it away, suppress it to the deepest parts of his mind. But then there were times like this when a situation so tragic arises, and the similarities were uncanny. It was his old partner - the one who died three years ago. The one whose death still haunted him and affected him each and every day. The reason he still hadn’t moved on and got reassigned a new partner. The reason he preferred to work solo. Detective Olivia Mckerry. Died March 22, 2013. On duty. She was shot, twice. Two bullets to the chest. She wasn’t wearing a vest. Didn’t think she hat to. It was a house call, to check in on a witness. Nothing serious. Nothing life threatening. Nothing to wear a vest for. The damage was done. Punctured lung, internal bleeding. Nothing the doctors could do. She died within six hours of being shot. She, along with the baby she was carrying. Their baby. She was five months pregnant at that time. She shouldn’t have even been on duty. She should have taken work off, went on maternity leave. But Olivia was dedicated to her job. She loved what she did, took pride in her work. And it was just a simple house call. Nobody could have seen it coming. Especially not Joe, who was with her the entire time. From the moment the bullet left the gun, to the moment in the hospital room, when he held her hand, cried on her chest as he held her belly, whispering to his child who would never be born. Olivia Mckerry. O-Mac, everyone called her. They met at the academy. She was fresh out of college for criminology. Her hair was a light shade of blonde - like vanilla pudding. Her eyes were crystal blue, and they seemed to get brighter every time he looked at them. Or perhaps it was her personality that made her eyes shine so bright. She was always smiling. Always so happy and optimistic. It’s a wonder how they became friends, really. Joe was dull. Pessimistic. Did not see the good things in life. Not until Olivia, that is. When they met, it was as though his world had opened up. The air was fresher, the sun was brighter. Everything seemed to matter more when she was around. She made everything seem so good. So golden. She made everything matter. It was forbidden for partners to date - for anyone at the precinct to date, really. Conflict of interest, distraction, etc. But that didn’t stop them. They simply kept their love affair a secret. Nobody knew. Nobody had to know. It was just the two of them. O’Reily and O-Mac against the world. Joe and Olivia. O’Reily and McKerry. Olivia O’Reily. That’s what her name would have been if they married. O.O. But of course, they never married. They never even had the chance to start their life together. Because she got pregnant. And nobody knew it was Joe’s. Nobody knew that they were even together. Not until she died. Then everyone knew. And everyone knew about the baby. The baby he would never have. Never get the chance to have. Because that opportunity had been ripped away from him without a choice. Olivia never had that choice. Because Smiley Brady took that choice away from her when he fired his gun. It was a boy - that much they knew. They were going to call him Luka. Five months along and that baby already had more love than some children have their whole lives. But Luka never got a chance. Olivia never got a chance. And now, that was all that Joe could think about since he saw Haddie Taylor on that table, Dr Kelvin saying the words pregnant. Did Haddie know? Joe hoped not. Because is she did … if that girl knew that she was pregnant and willingly took her own life anyway … HE couldn’t even think about what he’d do. He was on the road again, back to Kenhardt: day three. First, he would go back to the school. Talk with teachers, students, friends of the girls. Then he’d return to the homes of the girls, look around, keep an eye out for anything useful. Maybe talk to the neighbours, see if they had anything to say. Joe was trying to think critically. There were only two possible scenarios. If the girls killed themselves and this was a group suicide. There had to have been a reason. Depression, drugs, peer pressure. What makes three perfectly healthy teenage girls suddenly kill themselves? Was there a much larger picture that he wasn’t seeing? Did something traumatic happen to the three of them? Something they could no longer Cope with?