Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar by Gray Cavender (classic literature list txt) 📕

few times and thought he must be a detective—just nodded when she entered and he exited the elevator. Somehow, that nod seemed positive…in an understated way.

Despite all of the good wishes, Jillian worried about getting fired until she had an email from Lt. Timms setting up a meeting with the Tempe PD’s Public Information Officer. Actually, there were two people: Sgt. Holly Strayer, the PIO, and a photographer, a civilian employee named Rafe Blonde. Together, they worked on a story that was to appear in the Tempe/Ahwautukee insert of The Arizona Republic. This was a relief to Jillian as was another email from Lt. Timms saying that The Chief had decided to ‘own it,’ meaning she was going to support Jillian’s actions in apprehending Clay Neely…she’d even suggested the story.

The news story emphasized Jillian’s enrollment in an ASU master’s program, her thesis topic—women in policing—along with comments from Lt. Timms and The Chief. Linda said that Jillian’s actions were good publicity, especially the bit about intelligence-led policing, at a time of otherwise not-so-good press about police shooting unarmed black men. Linda added that her baby, her first, was doing well, but that she missed everyone at work…and missed sleep even more. She planned to return to work at the end of the month.

Two nights later, Jillian had dinner at her parents’ house. This had been planned before the ‘Clay Neely incident,’ but of course that was the main topic for discussion. On the whole, her parents were great. They treated her like an adult….no rhetorical questions…no lecture. Her mom thought that what she had done was ‘a bit foolhardy’ (Jillian remembered that Chief McCaslin had said the same thing), and her dad thought it was ‘unnecessary.’ He did ask if she had to worry about her job. Jillian admitted that, at first, she had been worried, especially after she’d met with Chief McCaslin and Lt. Timms, but, the email from Lt. Timms and the Chief’s idea about the news story had alleviated her fears. Mom had prepared one of Jillian’s favorites: beef bourguignon. Jillian brought a salad. They had a nice bottle of Cotes-Du-Rhone, her mom’s favorite, and berries and gelato for desert. As she left for home, they’d both said to her in their own unique ways, ‘don’t be scared of life, be a good citizen, and make good choices.’

A few days after that, Jillian attended judo class…the first one since Clay Neely. After the usual ‘beginning ritual,’ Choi Sohyon, a 5th dan Korean-American, assembled the class as always. The newspaper story was out, but Choi still briefly recounted Jillian’s use of judo to subdue a criminal. He did not make his usual comment, what Jillian always thought of as his Peter Parker speech…’with great power comes great responsibility.’ Instead, Choi and Jillian re-enacted both throws…Choi played Clay Neely’s part. They went through these moves several times. Then, they switched and he played Jillian and she played Neely…Choi wanted to refine her technique, although he complimented her on her progress. The class worked on those two moves. Choi reiterated the importance of learning how to land when thrown, and they practiced landing. From then on, it was class as usual, including some new moves.

Jillian then had a surprise visitor at her desk in the Research Division: the man who had nodded to her at the elevator, who was, indeed, a detective: Detective Sergeant Wes Webb. He said he’d like to talk with her at her convenience. They arranged to meet later that afternoon. Although definitely surprised, Jillian didn’t worry about a detective showing up at her desk. She thought maybe he was working the Clay Neely case and wanted to talk with her, either about the robbery or maybe about the predictive models that she’d run.

She did not think his appearance was a threat to her job. First, given Linda’s emails and that the Chief had ‘commissioned’ the story in the paper, Jillian thought that the threat to her job had passed. Second, she knew that if the Chief intended to fire her, she wouldn’t send a detective to do the dirty work…she’d do it herself.

Still, his appearance was a surprise, as was where they went for their talk. Jillian assumed they’d meet somewhere in the building, but, instead, he suggested that they could take a walk. And so they did: down Fifth Street, a right on Mill Avenue, and ultimately down along the walking area beside the Tempe Town Lake. Jillian thought that this was somewhat strange, but comfortable at the same time.

As they walked, they passed moms with baby carriages—one was accompanied by a little kid on push scooter—and an ASU student-age guy who rolled by on a long skate board that was pulled along by his dog, a beautiful golden retriever. Here and there guys were fishing…Jillian wondered if they ever caught anything, and if so, if it was safe to eat the fish…maybe they just liked fishing.

Jillian liked walking along the lake. She’d been here many times…concerts; the Tempe Christmas Boat Parade, and sometimes, like now, just to take a walk. She wondered if the detective would head them west toward The Tempe Center for the Arts, or east toward Mesa. They headed east…soon, they were under and then beyond the Mill Avenue overpass.

When he said, “Call me Wes,” she answered, “and please call me Jillian.” Although it was a little weird to call sworn officers by their name without mentioning their rank, she did work in a police department, so…it really depended on the particular officer’s preference.

Wes walked on her left…along the lake side. He obviously was in no hurry to speak. He’d left his jacket at the office, loosened his tie, and seemed to be simply enjoying the day.

Finally, he looked over at Jillian and said, “Judo, huh?”

She’d been wondering when he would get to it…the reason for this walk, but this caught her off guard, and she actually giggled.

“Yes, judo. Look, Detective Sergeant Webb…Wes…please don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t mean