“Don’t I wish,” Bobby repeated.

“Come on, you’re the state police liaison. Surely she’ll talk to the state police liaison.”

“Union rep is telling her to shut up. Her lawyer, once he arrives, will most likely second that command. Welcome to the blue wall, D.D.”

“But I also wear the fucking uniform!”

Bobby looked pointedly at her heavy field jacket, emblazoned BPD. “Not in Trooper Leoni’s world.”

Chapter 4

4

I was on my first solo patrol for all of two hours when I received my debut domestic disturbance call. Incident came from dispatch as a verbal domestic—basically the occupants of apartment 25B were arguing so loudly, their neighbors couldn’t sleep. Neighbors got mad, neighbors called the cops.

On the surface, nothing too exciting. Trooper shows up, occupants of 25B shut up. And probably drop a bag of burning dog poo on the neighbor’s front stoop the next morning.

But at the Academy they had drilled into us—there is no such thing as a typical call. Be aware. Be prepared. Be safe.

I sweated through my dark blue BDUs all the way to apartment 25B.

New troopers work under the supervision of a senior officer for their first twelve weeks. After that, we patrol alone. No wingman for companionship, no partner to watch your back. Instead, it’s all about dispatch. Second you’re in your cruiser, second you exit your vehicle, second you stop for a cup of coffee, second you pull over to pee, you tell dispatch all about it. Operations is your lifeline and when something goes wrong, it’s operations that will send the cavalry—your fellow state troopers—to the rescue.

In the classroom, this had sounded like a plan. But at one in the morning, getting out of my cruiser in a neighborhood I didn’t know, approaching a building I’d never seen, to confront two people I’d never met, it was easy to consider other facts, too. For example, while there are approximately seventeen hundred state troopers, only six hundred or so are on patrol at the same time. And these six hundred troopers are covering the entire state of Massachusetts. Meaning we’re spread out all over the place. Meaning that when things go wrong, it’s not a five-minute fix.

We’re all one big family, but we’re still very much alone.

I approached the building as I had been trained, my elbows glued to my waist to protect my service weapon, my body turned slightly to the side to form a smaller target. I angled away from the windows and kept to one side of the door, where I would be out of direct line of fire.

The most frequent call out received by a uniformed officer is situation unknown. At the Academy, we were advised to treat all calls like that. Danger is everywhere. All people are suspect. All suspects are liars.