THE MEETING Part Three: Deputy Michaels

Aimee Woods watched her husband disappear behind the prison doors. She silently cursed the reporters who were hounding him, those same reporters who had hounded them a decade before. Many of the names and the faces had changed, but the reporters had not. They didn't care about her or Alex or even Jessica. They cared only about selling newspapers and getting people to tune into their broadcasts. Maybe they would win an Emmy or a Pulitzer, or maybe they would get a promotion and a prime time special. If they had to further traumatize a few grieving people in the process, then so be it.
With a frustrated sigh, she looked away. She opened the tattered Bible that sat on her lap and tried to force herself to read. She opened up to Luke chapter fifteen. Aimee looked at the three parables there; the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the lost son. She wondered about Vincent J. Hynes and if he could possibly fit into any or all of those stories. She didn't know. The Bible said that there was much rejoicing in Heaven over a sinner who came to repentance. Alex used to say, "The angels are having a big ol' party now!" after an alter call. Well, if Hynes did repent, they may party in Heaven, but she probably wouldn't join them.
Because she was reading her Bible, and because her mind was quite literally an eternity away, she barely noticed the reporters. They, however, did notice her. Alex had purposely parked a good distance from the prison entrance so that he could approach mostly unnoticed. He didn't want his wife harassed while she waited for him. It almost worked, except for one reporter who had spent some time around the Woods home. He knew their car and when he saw Alex coming from the parking lot, he noticed the general direction from which he came. The reporter could tell by the look on Alex's face that he wouldn't give the vultures a thing, so while the rest of the reporters clamored around the dead girl's father, he headed off into the parking lot in search of the green sedan that probably held her mother.
Most average people might not have seen the young reporter and his camera man slip away, but these were reporters. It was their job to notice things, and they followed him. By the time Aimee had finished reading Luke 15, the car was surrounded by newsmen and women with video cameras and flash bulbs and note books and microphones. When she looked up and saw them she almost screamed.
Instinctively, she reached for the door locks, though she doubted that the reporters would actually stoop to forcing their way into her vehicle. They were knocking on the windows though, and pointing their cameras and microphones at her.
"Mrs. Woods!" the reporter who had first spotted her shouted, "A word please!"
The others joined him.
"Mrs. Woods, why didn't you accompany your husband?"
"Mrs. Woods, have you forgiven Vincent Hynes?"
"Can we please get a statement from you, Mrs. Woods?"
Aimee closed her eyes and tried to shut them out. It didn't work. She covered her ears, hoping the gesture would send a message to the reporters that she wished to be left alone. If they got the message, they ignored it. Why couldn't they just leave her alone? How could they be so calloused and uncaring?
Finally, a new voice, deep and authoritative, broke through the clamor.
"All right! All right! Break it up!" the newcomer barked. "Leave this woman alone or I'll have you all evicted from the premises!"
"This is a state prison!" one reporter replied. "That makes this parking lot public property!"
"You see this badge, Mister?" the newcomer said. "This makes me the man in charge. Now, leave this woman alone or I'll call my colleagues down at the police station and you won't like what they have to say!"
"What about the right to peaceful assembly?" a woman retorted.
"This doesn't look like a peaceful assembly to me, lady," the newcomer said. "This looks like harassment. I think my friends at the station would agree. Now, unless you want me to prove this to you, I suggest that you step away from this car now! If I so much as see one of you snap another picture of her, I'll have you arrested for harassment and we'll let the courts sort it out! Is that clear?"
Dozens of voices reluctantly agreed that the man had indeed been clear. Aimee, who had kept her eyes closed throughout the encounter opened hem to the welcome sight of reporters scurrying away. The newcomer turned out to be a large black man in a khaki sheriff's uniform. Large was an understatement; he was huge. He stood at least six foot five and must have weighed nearly three hundred pounds, mostly muscle. His back was turned to Aimee as he watched the reporters retreat back to their post by the prison's visitor entrance. Even from behind, Aimee could tell he was a man who meant business. So long as he remained, the reporters would not be back to bother her.
The cop turned to face her. For a moment, she saw the expression that must have frightened the reporters away. Then, the man's face softened into the warmest smile she had ever seen. He was handsome. His head was shaved and he wore on of those round, safari type hats that added three or four more inches to his already massive build. He looked about thirty.
Looking at him immediately put Aimee at ease. When he walked towards the car she realized that even though she had wanted to be left alone, this particular visitor was very welcome. The sun glinted off of something on his collar and as he got closer, she saw that it was a small golden cross pin. On his hat was another pin, this one an angel.
Aimee rolled down her window and the men bent over to speak to her.
"Are you okay, ma'am?"
"Yes, thank you, officer..."
"Michaels," he told her. "Deputy William Michaels. I'm here on a prisoner transport from Angeles County."
"Well, you came along just in time, Deputy Michaels," Aimee said.
"Just doing my job," he said. "I hate to see anybody harassed by those sharks in the media, Mrs. Woods."
"You know who I am?" Aimee asked.
"I do have a TV, you know," he said smiling. "I think it's just deplorable how the media will hound people who want to be left along just to get a story."
"Well, thanks for chasing them off, Mr. Michaels," Aimee said, "but I'm afraid that as soon as you're gone, they'll come right back out here."
"I guess I'll have to stay then, won't I?" Michaels said.
"Oh, you don't to do that."
"What does it say on this badge, Mrs. Woods?" The deputy pointed to the brass star pinned to his chest. "My job is to protect you and to serve you. Besides, my duties are done for the day and I have nothing to do today but drive back to Angeles County. I could use a little diversion. The department will understand. When does your husband come back?"
"In a couple of hours," she replied. "I promised him I'd stay out here and pray for him."
"Since I've been praying for you since I heard about you on the news this morning," Michaels said, "I'd love to join you. Would that be okay?"
With a genuine smile, Aimee said, "Yes. That would be more than okay, Deputy Michaels."
"Call me Bill," the deputy said.