Such Great Heights

I pulled into the underground employee parking garage exactly five minutes before my day started. It was dark, and like any underground parking my foot steps echoed. I explained to the parking attendant that it was my first day and did not yet receive my parking pass. He made me sign my name in the registry and after doing so I grabbed my purse and bags from the floor to make my way to the exit leading outside of the building. The parking attendant eyed my black Mercedes S-Class with an envious look the whole time, therefore I was eyeing the parking attendant and not for the reasons he thought. Though I considered my self a good looking woman, men often had a tendency toward my car than me. I pushed my long straight black hair over my shoulders, and with one more warning glare toward ‘Mr. McStaresalot's’ direction. I entered the exit door, and went around to the front of the grey brick and glass building. Breathe in…breathe out…okay... here goes nothing. I encouraged myself mentally. Before I opened one of the glass doors I looked up, and basked in the gold-metal lettering that was hovering about twenty feet above my head. New York Police Department – Precinct #57 As I stepped through the gold and glass doors a shiver of anticipation and nervousness shot through my body. I took that as a good sign of things to come. I hoped! I walked fully inside, and noticed the big black signs hanging from the ceiling directing people where to go. The environment was very formal, the floors where grey ceramic, and the walls a dull white, though the reception area looked quite elegant with its mahogany desk, and the big carving behind it stating the precinct number. I looked for the sign leading to my new office following them through narrow corridors, and when I found it, I couldn’t help the wide smile spreading across my face. Dr. B. Rivers, Ph.D., Psychologist…dad would have been so proud of me! I thought. I looked around the area, and noticed the wide windows, the beige and white walls littered with Wanted posters, the whiteboards, and the numerous computers, and television screens to the left. Two sets of stairs flanked the left wall, leading to god knows where. There were a bunch of cubicles off to the side by the windows right in front of my office, there was also an office toward the back with white vertical blinds drawn shut just like mine, and a hallway that more than likely lead to the holding cells, and interrogation rooms, I imagined. I unlocked my door, and couldn’t believe the sight before me. Fucking hell! Now, I don’t curse a lot, but that moment was a good time to start. The former Doctor decided he was in too much of a hurry to get the fuck out of here to clean up the god damn place. Pardon my French! Papers and files were scattered all over the desk, the coffee table, and even the floor. The drawers of the file cabinet were almost all open, and by looking closer, most of them were empty. This was going to take me hours…(Sigh)…well there was no time to just stand around! That was how I spent my morning. Sitting on the floor with my shoes off, sorting through all that crap, filling them back in the cabinet, and cleaning this dump. At least it was going to look great; the walls were light beige like the outside corridors, I had a nice black leather chair and sofa on the right wall with a beautiful mahogany coffee table. My desk, also mahogany, was in an angle on the left side facing the door, and bonus…I had my own private bathroom. Woohoo! I stood to dump a few files on my desk, and spotted the bags I had brought with me sitting there. Opening one, I took out a picture frame, and placed it on my desk so it would face me. My beautiful little girl, Hayley, was the spitting image of me, dark emerald green eyes, pouty lips, and quite a personality to match my own. Only her hair, she had her father’s hair, was an ashy blond, and mine were pitch black. I heard a knock at the door that startled me, almost making me launch Hayley’s frame right up in the air. “Come in,” I looked up to see who my visitor was; realizing with relief that he was no stranger to me. “Good morning Dr. Rivers, how…Oh I’m so sorry about this,” he said with a remorseful gesture toward the mess. “Dr. Lewis was not very happy with us when he left, and I’ve been meaning to get someone to clean…” “Please Captain Broadway, it’s alright. It gives me a chance to sort, and file everything my self like I want it to be, and reading them through. It’s no problem at all,” I said trying to soothe is concern, and putting the frame in its new spot on my desk. Captain Broadway was a large man, a little balding on top of his head with salt, and pepper hair all the way around, and piercing black eyes. I had no doubt he must have been a very handsome man back in the day, but unfortunately, now around his mid-fifties, he looked tired, and worn out. Being in charge of the Crisis Negotiations Team (CNT) or if you prefer Hostage Negotiations Team must have had a toll on him. The 57th Precinct is mostly residential area in Harlem. Unfortunately the crime rate was pretty high, and my job was to provide trauma debriefing, counseling, and evaluation of Captain Broadway’s team when needed after major incidences, events, and crisis or during times of personal needs, and I also had to evaluate the investigative personnel for psychological fitness for specialized assignments. So, yeah, I did have my work cut out for me, and I loved it. The Captain cleared his throat to get my attention again. “I was just passing by to tell you that we’ll be having a staff meeting in thirty minutes in the boardroom 404. I would like to introduce you, and you can say a little something to the gang if you need too. Is that alright?” “That’s perfectly fine Capt…” he cut me off by raising his right hand. “Please, call me Ed.” “Alright, well its fine…Ed, and I’ll be there, thank you,” I laughed. He chuckled, and left me to my cleaning again. Oh crap on a cracker…now I had to face the whole team. Great, just fabu-freaking-less. Just then I heard the sound of my favorite Nickelback song coming from my purse. I dove in, almost emptying the contents on the desk to grab my cell before who ever it was hung up. “Hello?” “Good morning, I would like to speak to Miss Belladonna Rivers?” “Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?” I said, a little weary. I didn’t recognize the voice. “My name is John Fitz from the Department of Public Safety in Los Angeles,” he stopped talking as if letting me take in the introduction, and my heart stopped as I realized what subject he wanted to discuss. My throat dried up, my hands clamed up, and I fell into my chair with tears forming in my eyes. “Yes,” was all I was able to conjure up. “I’m calling you in regards of Mr. Brian Jamieson. His parole hearing went very well, and the parole board has granted him his release under probation for two years,” he spoke in a very calm voice, and a little too much as a matter of fact for my taste. “Since you have decided not to voice your opinion on the matter of his parole hearing I am in the obligation of informing you that his release date is set for a week from yesterday. We would like to inform you also that your restraining order has not been removed. Mr. Jamieson is still under the restriction to approach you, and your daughter unless he contacts you through your lawyer first,” Mr. Fitz added. “Okay, thank you,” and I hung up effectively cutting off his next words. I was in total shock. I don’t know how long I sat staring at my phone trying to swallow what I had just learned. I knew his parole hearing was coming, but never in a millions years had I thought he would be granted. If I would have had a single doubt I would have objected. I would have with all my might. I snapped out of it when loud voices came to me from the corridor, and when I looked at the clock, crap…my meeting. Pull yourself together B, staff meeting in ten minutes!