A Dangerous Crush

There was a knock on his open door and a gravelly voice said, “Excuse me, sir.”
Chief of Police, Emmanuel Caine, trying to decipher the scrawl of one of his sergeants, didn’t even bother looking up.
“Has the walking keg finally sobered up?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to figure out if this one word was prostitutes or potatoes.
“He’s thrown up a lot and he’s threatening to rip your guts out of your asshole if you don’t let him out soon.”
“Sounds like he needs a few more hours,” Emmanuel tsked, before returning to his report.
“Yes, sir.”
“One more thing. Oh, the hell oversees the Broswill district?”
“Sergeant Thomas Reynolds, sir.”
“Tell him if he doesn’t start writing legibly, he’s going to be spending the rest of his life in a jail cell. I shouldn’t be wondering if he’s arrested two prostitutes or two potatoes.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, returning to his desk.
Emmanuel tossed the report away with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. There were days when he loved his job and then, there were days, like today, where he wanted to murder everyone within a five-block radius. Maybe he could grab a truncheon and take some of his frustration out on Benny.
“Sir.”
“What?” he moaned.
“There is a Miss Kant wanting to see you.”
Emmanuel opened his eyes in surprise at the sergeant who had bothered him only a minute ago.
“Who?”
“A Miss Kant.”
“Ariel or Zahra?”
“No, not Mrs., sir, Miss. It’s the little one.”
“The little one?” Emmanuel mouthed, before it dawned on him, “Ester!”
“Yes, sir, should I bring her in?”
“Is she alone?”
“Completely.”
Emmanuel frowned momentarily before nodding his head.
“Let her in,” he said, running a hand through his soft, black hair that flopped stubbornly back into his thin and handsome face before organizing his desk, ensuring he hid anything that suggested the nastier side of his job and society.
“Miss Ester Kant, sir,” said the sergeant, closing the door as he left, nervous young Ester carrying a basket of eggs and approaching his desk.
Ester was the soft-hearted princess of paradise, her wavy brown hair pinned back so the curls would gently rest on her shoulders, just as Diana had taught her, her warm blue eyes twinkling with impishness, as if she knew she was doing something bad, and she was wearing a Niveus fur lined red coat, with a thick fur collar.
“I hope I am not interrupting, Inspector Caine,” she said, once she reached his desk, standing firmly at attention.
“I could use with the distraction,” he said, sitting back in his chair and discreetly watching her every move, “Is everything all right?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t they be?”
“Normally, people only visit a police station if they need to report a crime.”
“Oh! No one ever visits you because they want to see you?”
“No one ever wants to see me,” he replied with a humorous sniff.
“That’s so sad,” she said, her face falling, “You have no friends?”
“Do your parents know you’re here, Miss Kant?” he asked, folding one leg over the other.
“No,” she said, glancing down at her feet, “They would not be happy if they found out. I don’t think they like you.”
“That’s an understatement.”
She looked at him curiously.
“Why don’t they like you?”
“I’m a mongrel,” he said, brushing a string from his pant leg.
“A what?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
Emmanuel met her curious glance and uncertain smile and had to admit that she was a growing into a charming, but naive young woman. If the Kants weren’t careful, a scoundrel would come along, pull on her heartstrings, and they would lose her forever.
“Why are you here, Miss Kant?”
She swallowed and sucked in her lips before, seemingly making a decision, crossed around the desk so she was standing next to him.
“I wanted to give you something.”
“Eggs?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“No,” she giggled, before pulling a small box from her pocket, “This.”
He gently took the box from her, more giggles followed as their fingers brushed against each other. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she avoided his glance and twirled from side to side. Oh, she was smitten, wasn’t she?
“And what is this for?”
“I don’t know. I wanted to give you something.”
She uncertainly met his glance and smiled.
“You have pretty eyes. One is green, but the other one…it’s more brown than green.”
Her own eyes widened once she realized what she said, and she burrowed her darkening cheeks in her fur collar.
“I’m glad you like them. They got me into a bit of trouble when I was younger,” he said, placing the box on his desk.
“Really?” she squeaked from inside her collar.
He nodded his head before sitting forward.
“Miss Kant-”
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
He hesitated before taking the box, untying the ribbon, and opening it. His eyes widened as he took out a silver pocket watch, a fox carved onto the lid of the watch.
“Where did you get this?”
“Do you like it?” she asked, re-emerging from her collar, although her cheeks were still noticeably darker.
“How did you get this?” he asked, dreading what Ariel would do to him if he arrested her daughter for stealing.
“Uncle Geoffrey bought it for me.”
“Did you tell him who it was for?”
“I told him it for father,” she admitted.
“Then you should give it to him instead,” he said, forcing it into her small hand.
“You don’t like it?” she asked, her face falling.
“I don’t think you should lie to your uncle,” said Emmanuel, not believing what he was saying.
“What if you keep it and I tell him the truth the next time I see him?” she persisted, placing the pocket watch back in his hand.
This was why he hated children. They never knew when to listen.
“Miss Kant, you can’t buy expensive gifts for police inspectors,” he said, amused that he of all people had to give Ester a lesson on what was and wasn’t proper behavior for a young lady.
“Why not?” she snapped, and he was surprised to a hint of David’s influence in her, “I’m a Kant! I can do what I want!”
“I’m sure your father would be proud to hear that.”
Her face fell, and she chewed on a curl.
“Keep it,” she said, “Please.”
Emmanuel growled as there was a knock on the door.
“I am sorry for interrupting, sir, but the general is threatening to bring his imprisonment up with our lord if you don’t let him out.”
“General?” asked Ester, her face drawing together in concern.
Emmanuel glanced at the young girl and, for the first time in his life, decided he was going to be the better Shadow. He slipped the watch into his pocket, rose, and told Ester to wait before crossing the small office and opening the door.
“Tell him that unless he wants his niece to see the drunken disaster he truly is, he’ll wait for a half hour, while I take her home,” he whispered.
“And what if he doesn’t believe me, sir?”
“I’ll deal with it when I get back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Emmanuel closed the door and turned to face the young Shadow.
“I think I should take you home, Miss Kant.”
“Oh, no, I can go home by myself. It’s only a few blocks from here.”
“What kind of Shadow would I be, if I let a lovely lady, like you, walk home alone?” he asked as he slipped on his coat and cap, his compliment eliciting the giggle he knew it would.
She slowly joined his side and, in a rush of courage, grabbed his hand. Together, they walked out of his office, passed the crowded desks, Emmanuel glaring at all of his employees to keep quiet, and out into the damp and bustling streets. Thankfully, it had stopped raining and the familiar puddles were smaller than usual.
“Do you like the watch?” she asked, looking up at him.
“You’re very persistent,” he drawled.
“If I’m going to get in trouble, I want it to be for a good reason,” she said with a hint of a grumble.
Emmanuel glanced at her and felt a hint that his heart hadn’t completely shriveled up on him.
“Do you get into trouble, often?”
“More than Asa.”
“Yes, he is a spoiled brat, isn’t he?”
Ester looked up in surprised and couldn’t completely hide her approving smile.
“I’m not allowed to say that. I’m supposed to be nice, but he’s never nice to me.”
“You need to get back at him, secretly.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t yell at him in front of your parents. You’ll be blamed.”
Ester nodded her head.
“So, you have to find other ways to get back at him.”
“Like what?” she asked, far too eager causing Emmanuel to smile.
Maybe she wasn’t as soft-hearted as everyone thought.
“Move his things around when no one is looking. It has to be small things, though, things he won’t notice until he needs them, like his fanciest tie or his cuffs. Things your father would beat him for losing. You could hide his stuff animals in innocent places, like in the back of his closet or underneath his bed, or deep in his toy chest. Places he doesn’t normally put his favorite toy but places where they could logically end up all the same.”
His smile grew as Ester giggled with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Would I be wicked if I did those things?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.
“Not in my book,” he said as they reached her block, “You’re simply getting back at your spoiled brat of a brother and someone needs to do it.”
She shared one last smile with him before squeezing his hand as he opened her house gate for her. She hesitated for a moment before determinately leading the way, seemingly resigned to whatever punishment waited for her in that giant and oppressive house. Emmanuel knocked on the door. It only took a moment before ig opened and Ester couldn’t help her squeak when she saw her father. Solomon glanced at Emmanuel, his disgust etched across his face.
“Ester, what have you done?” he asked in deadly disappointment.
“Nothing,” Emmanuel interceded, subconsciously pulling the girl behind him, “I saw her walking the streets alone on an errand for your wife and wanted to make sure she arrived home, safe and sound.”
Solomon met his glance and stepped aside.
“Come in, Ester.”
She scurried inside, and Emmanuel felt his chest tightened as Solomon continued to stare him down.
“I’d appreciate it if you stayed away from my daughter.”
“She’s turning into a great beauty, Solomon. It isn’t safe for her to walk around on her own.”
Solomon stepped outside and closed the door with a snap.
“Is that a threat?”
“An observation.”
“Why are you really here?”
“The alcoholic mistake you call a brother is currently in one of my jail cells again,” said Emmanuel, causing Solomon to sigh, “That’s the tenth time this month.”
“I’ll pick him up after dinner.”
“Our lord is beginning to notice.”
“I’ll speak to Benedict,” said Solomon.
“Has he ever listened to you?”
“When I retrieve my brother, I trust I will find no evidence that he was abused.”
“We’re not Shivians,” Emmanuel said with an amused grin, “Any bruises he bears were received when he resisted arrest.”
Solomon’s nostril flared, and Emmanuel knew he was dismissed.
“See you in an hour or so.”
And with that, he turned and left, vaguely wondering if Ester would follow his advice.