Page 1 of Cisco

CHAPTER ONE

“Andera.”

Cisco’s chief barked his name out the second Cisco walked into the Orono police station amongst all those just coming off shift.

What the hell was Chief Ildavorg doing here at this time of night on a Friday?

Cisco had just completed his three-to-eleven stint, and had been looking forward to not going home, but heading to the club he sometimes frequented in Bangor. He wasn’t feeling it right now, but he needed to see if he had it in him to pick up a woman. It had been far too long since he’d hooked up, and he was determined to snap his dry-spell. He’d been downright lame lately, unable to muster the interest or the energy to pour on the charm and find himself a willing bed-partner.

What was wrong with him?

It couldn’t be that nearly all his closest buddies were now either married or happily engaged to kick-ass women and no longer had the time or the inclination to act as his side-kicks and wing-men. Only he and Welker Vestore from his original group of five SWAT friends—Mike, Kyle, and Doug making up the balance—remained woman-free, and Welk had been too busy lately taking night courses to hit the bars with him. The man was furthering his knowledge to become more useful with the forensics he was often tasked with for their team.

Cisco could always call Dieter, the chief’s son and his best, long-time friend outside the department. But the lobsterman was probably already in bed, his boat cleaned and prepped to leave its mooring at butt-crack o’clock in the morning.

It sucked that his cohorts “normal” schedules didn’t mesh with his, but Cisco had, last month, finally put in to be transferred to the day shift. It was a long overdue move, and…maybe that’s what the chief wanted to talk about.

With that happy thought in mind, Cisco turned his attention to his boss. “What are you doing here so late?” he asked Frank Ildavorg.

The chief beckoned him into his office.

“The wife’s gone on a quilting weekend with her sister and the house is empty. So, I’m catching up on some paperwork.”

Cisco knew that was code for the chief being lonely. It was no secret that the nearly forty-year marriage of Frank and Suze Ildavorg hadn’t lessened their attraction to each other. Dieter often joked that he was still single because his parents were an impossible act to follow.

The chief closed the door behind them. “Have a seat, Cisco.”

Yeah. Inside his boss’s office, his Uncle Frank—as Cisco had known him growing up, even though he was no relation, but a close family friend—didn’t stand on ceremony, and called him by his first name instead of the ubiquitous last that was de rigueur in their department.

Cisco sat on one side of the desk, while his honorary uncle plunked his ass on the other.

“I know you want to head out, so I’ll make this brief,” the chief began.

Cisco nodded. There was no need to tell the man what his plans were. He clearly already knew.

“You put in for the day shift a few weeks ago.”

Cisco tried not to let his excitement show.

“You also made a notation that you’d be interested in working with kids at one of our town’s schools.”

Cisco couldn’t help it. His interest was piqued and his fingers tapped on his knees.

Was it possible he’d get both his wishes?

He’d been patient and bided his time in the job he’d held for the past nine years, but in the last few months he’d realized that as much as he loved his night-owl hours, it limited his connection to people with “regular” nine-to-five schedules. As well as that epiphany, he’d long since known that as a motorcycle cop, his bike had given him an “in” with the youth around town, and those interactions had led him to want more time mentoring the younger citizens of Orono.

“But as you know,” Uncle Frank continued, “we have several resource officers already covering all those school positions.”

Well, so much for fishing both wishes.

“However…”

Cisco’s ears perked up. This sounded like a good, “however”.

“…I’ve had a request from a woman who runs an overnight camp called Camp Venture out on Pushaw Lake. She’d like to run some self-defense courses for her campers, and asked if I had any recommendations for an officer who could help her out or take on the program.”

Hell, yes! That sounded like a job squarely in Cisco’s wheelhouse.

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