Chappy - Chapter 1

Tuesday, March 12th - 3:34am

The rattling of her 2002 Ford Expedition echoed through the almost vacant parking lot of Tucker Plaza. It was late, far too late for a Police Chaplain to be out doing anything, but she couldn't sleep. Amy Parker was a ten year veteran of the Mochaton Police Department. A tour that had and probably always would be strictly voluntary. The Mocaton PD was a small department, deploying three officers on the streets at any given time. The town was small and so was the crime rate. The need for a chaplain, while necessary, meant that Amy was never extremely busy and had to find ways to serve the officers between tragedies and in her decade of service, there had never been a major event.

"Mocaton," the radio in her car came on, "do you have anything on that plate I gave you?"

The voice was that of Sergent Jeff Owens. He had just pulled a vehicle over on the other side of Tucker Plaza and was waiting on the registration information to come back from dispatch. Amy pulled her vehicle into a parking space a safe distance away, facing the flashing blue lights that helped to light up the poorly lit Plaza. Putting her personal vehicle in park, she pressed a button on the top left of her dash and four white lights on the front of her Expedition began to flash intermittently. It was an unnecessary gesture, but she enjoyed doing it because it made her feel like part of the team, even though she was nowhere close to the scene.

"10-4" the dispatcher responded, "that tag is on a white Chevy Tahoe, Class C license, registered to Needlebaum out of Georgia, valid insurance and registration, no warrants."

"Routine traffic stop," thought Amy. She knew better than to ever say that in front of anyone else, because as she had been told many times, there is no such thing. But, in Amy's case, she saw plenty of traffic stops that ended just like this. It wasn't that Amy wanted anything bad to happen. She gave thanks to God each time a traffic stop ended peacefully, but she found herself becoming complacent like so many of the officers, because that was all that ever came back from dispatch when an Mocaton officer pulled someone over.

"10-4" Answered Sergeant Owens, then he added, "Thanks for the backup, Chappy."

Amy smiled, reached for her radio, keyed the mic and responded, "10-4, 1501. 1501 was his badge number and while Amy had a number they used for her handle, 1777, she was affectionately called "chappy" by everyone in the department.

She set her mic down, reached to the dash, turned off her lights, and cranked her car. By this time, Sergent Owens had returned to his vehicle. The traffic stop was over. All was well. Amy had done her job.

Amy felt a sense of pride watching over her officers like she had just done. She wasn't armed or anything, but she knew that they felt a sense of security when they knew she was nearby watching their backs with access to a radio. The Chief had made it clear to her when he granted her radio use that she could watch and report, but she wasn't to interfere or step in. She had no police training, no weapon, and no vest and she knew the Chief was simply looking out for her safety. So she always kept her distance and monitored ready to report in if an officer needed backup and couldn't key their mic to let dispatch know. Of course, this never happened, and while that made for a boring night, Amy was always thankful that her officers were safe.

The radio remained silent as Amy drove home. She was finally getting tired and thought she would try to get some rest. It was after 4:00am when she pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine. Amy had a busy day and she had to be up in just two hours, but she was fulfilled. She knew she had done a great thing and she could tell in her Sergeant's voice when he thanked her for "backing him up" and that was all the pay she needed. The smile never faded until her head hit her pillow and she finally drifted off to sleep. Unfortunately for Amy, this was the last time she would smile for a while.