Unknown Victim by Kay Hadashi (classic books for 11 year olds .TXT) 📕

Ana continued to watch Gina pack her bags. “I still don’t see why you’re moving so far away, Gigi.”

“Because they were the only place wanting to hire me.”

“Just come back to the force. You know you want to.”

“Really?” Gina began taking things back out of the suitcase again. “You know what I want better than I do?”

“No, I’m just saying you’re not a gardener. You belong on the police force.”

“I’m not a gardener, I’m a fully educated and trained landscape horticulturist, and have the certificate to prove it. It took me two years of study and hard work to get that certificate. I’m putting it to good use, one way or another,” Gina said, packing books at the bottom of her suitcases. “I’ve been over this a hundred times at least, with you, with Mom, and with Dad. I’m not a cop anymore, and I don’t want to be a cop. The family has you as the next generation of police officer in our family since the birth of God. We don’t need me, on the force or in Cleveland.”

“Don’t talk like that. Of course we need you!”

“You still don’t understand. I need to get out of Cleveland more than you guys need me to stay here.” Gina stopped packing and sat next to her younger sister. Ana was already dressed in her police uniform, ready to go to work that day as a rookie officer in training. “Look, no one wants to hire me here. The name Gina Santoro has a bad rep attached to it these days. I can’t even get jobs mowing lawns, much less working at the arboretum or a nursery.”

“Because it’s December, it’s twenty degrees, and lawns are frozen stiff. Better idea is to buy a snow blower and clean the sidewalks.” Ana’s smile was forced, at best. “Sorry, didn’t mean it to sound that way.”

“In Hawaii, there’s a year-round growing season. They need people like me.”

“Okay, tell me about the job one more time. It’s more than mowing lawns, right?”

Gina got the website brochure she’d printed and handed it over. “The place is known as the Tanizawa Estate. It’s about a hundred years old, but nobody has lived on it in a long time. Now they want to open the old estate to the public as botanical display gardens. It’s close to some of the famous tourist spots in Honolulu and they’re hoping the place becomes an attraction.”

“Tanizawa. That’s Japanese, isn’t it?”

“That’s the name of the family that owns the land. I looked up the word. Apparently it means swampy valley.”

“Trading winter lake effect for a swamp. Not much of an upgrade.” Ana continued to look at the full color pictures in the brochure. “Gigi, what do you know about Japanese gardens?”

“It’s not so much about being a Japanese garden as it is tropical. I might be able to find an expert with the more difficult projects. I don’t have to know everything. I just need to be able to find experts who do. That much I learned in school.”

“When was the last time you were in the tropics? Or saw a Japanese garden?”

Gina snatched the brochure back and returned to packing her suitcase. “You gonna support me or be a toad like everyone else?”

“Support you, of course. I just don’t see how an Italian that’s lived in Cleveland all her life will cope with Japanese gardens in the tropics.”

“Trained and educated, remember? One way or another, I have a year to figure it out.”

Ana sat watching for a few minutes. “It wasn’t your fault, you know.”

Gina knew exactly what her sister had meant, and still didn’t want to talk about it. “What wasn’t?”

“That night at the church. I’ve heard all about it from Butch and a couple other cops that were at the scene. All of them say you did everything by the book.”

“Except that I didn’t completely and thoroughly identify the target I was aiming at before I fired.”

Ana chuckled. “Maybe if you were a better shot, you might’ve hit your target.”

“It was cold and my hands were frozen stiff. Because of that, I almost shot Father Romano! I missed him by inches.”

“That’s what counts, Gigi. Nobody got hurt.”

“I shot the Virgin Mary instead!” Gina zip-closed the suitcase. “I still can’t believe I blew away the Virgin.”

“Nonsense. It was a statue of the Virgin, and you only clipped her in the knee. She’s been through worse.”

“At least I didn’t shoot the Holy Kid,” Gina said, crossing herself.

“See how blessed you are? You missed the priest, and the Virgin and Jesus survived. Good news all around. Halleluiah for being a bad shot with your service pistol.”

“Yeah, that’ll look good on my Holy Resume when I meet St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. I never shot a priest.”

“That’s why you left the force? You feel guilty about shooting at Father Romano?” Ana asked.

“I screwed up, big time. The shooting review board put me on administrative leave, even while I was still in field training. I’m not trustworthy on the street, or with a gun in my hand.”

“They stuck you on leave for a week, just so you’d calm down and have some time to reflect. Mandatory. It’s the same for every cop.”

Gina stuffed her tennis racket into her suitcase. “I’m not safe on the street.”

“Dad has talked to Butch Morrison and the other cops at the church that night a dozen times. Every one of them said you did everything by the book. Sergeant Morrison wants you to come back. Even though it’s been three years since then, you’d only need to do a few weeks of refresher training at the academy before starting over in field training.”

“Forget it. My mind’s made up.”

“Just like your mind’s made up that you’re not coming back to church?” Ana asked.

“Yep. I can pray at home.”

Ana shook her head. “Look, forget about your lawn mowing job in the tropics. Come to the range for target practice with Dad and me sometime. That’ll settle your nerves and get you