Chapter 14 – Erin's Philosophy of Winning Without Trying: Sitting in a Patrol Car While Glory Falls from the Sky
Captain Winston's booming voice cut through the chaotic crime scene, turning several nearby officers' heads:
"Sean, looks like you're about to earn another commendation!"
The seasoned department politician knew exactly how to manage personnel: praise must be loud and public;
reprimands must be delivered behind closed doors, voice lowered.
His face radiated undisguised approval, practically glowing with satisfaction:
"Dispatch just confirmed—the little girl recovered from the vehicle is a registered missing person! In other words,"
he slapped Sean firmly on the shoulder with a solid thud:
"you've just saved a family from complete devastation!"
Sean instantly adopted a display of humble modesty, leaning back slightly, hands gesturing dismissively, eyes conveying just the right amount of self-deprecation:
"Captain, I can't take all the credit! How could this be solely my achievement? It's clearly your exceptional leadership that makes the entire division so effective!"
His voice carried clearly, ensuring every nearby officer and supervisor heard the compliment.
The flattery landed perfectly on Winston's ego; his grin widened, stress lines smoothing as he waved it off—though the corners of his mouth refused to drop:
"You're too kind, Sean, too kind!"
That barely-suppressed smile betrayed how thoroughly he enjoyed every syllable.
Procedure compliant, suspect neutralized, kidnapping victim recovered, narcotics seized—an iron-clad accomplishment for his promotion packet, another bullet point for the annual performance review.
If not for so many witnesses, Winston would've hugged this "brilliant" officer—he could practically feel the Division Commander's office getting closer.
He was already mentally drafting the promotional memo.
Suspect eliminated, major case cleared—music to any administrator's ears!
In the passenger seat, Erin held the rescued girl, watching through the window.
Winston beaming and congratulating Sean made her reassess everything; realization struck like a thunderbolt:
So that's how Sean climbs the promotional ladder so fast!
Such polished department politics—she doubted she could master it in a decade.
The more Winston studied this remarkably "perceptive" subordinate, the more impressed he became; a tangible reward was clearly warranted.
He cleared his throat, voice regaining command authority yet still warm:
"Effective immediately you're on paid administrative leave pending the shooting investigation. We'll notify you when the review board completes their findings. As for the incident report..."
With a magnanimous gesture he declared:
"Just give Internal Affairs a verbal statement; I'll have them handle the paperwork."
Sean looked appropriately grateful, then added with perfectly calculated concern: "Thank you, Captain! But my partner, Officer Gresham—she's fresh from the academy and just experienced her first officer-involved shooting. I'm concerned about potential psychological trauma..." He glanced toward the Ford's passenger side.
Winston's satisfaction practically overflowed.
Look at that—benefiting himself yet still advocating for his partner's welfare. He regarded Sean like a prized asset.
This officer absolutely must be promoted.
"Since Sergeant Horace specifically requests it, Officer Gresham can enter administrative leave protocol as well—just complete the mandatory psych evaluation when IA schedules it."
Having just cleared a major trafficking-and-narcotics case, Winston was feeling generous.
Still, he added cautiously: "With your arrest record and tactical skills, street patrol doesn't maximize your potential. After this leave period I may reassign you to Detectives—be prepared for that transition."
"Yes, sir."
Winston had IA return Sean's personal backup firearm; since it wasn't department-issued equipment and with his authorization, it was released immediately.
"How are you holding up?"
The young girl Erin had been comforting was now in the ambulance with suspect Cyril—toxicology screening was needed to identify the sedative for proper medical treatment.
But the paramedics walked right past her to examine Blake still slumped in the Chevrolet.
As a sworn officer, Sean had the legal authority to use deadly force, yet only medical professionals could officially declare death.
They had to verify vital signs on-scene—pulse, respiration, pupillary response.
If no signs of life were detected, they documented time of examination, findings, and released the body to the County Coroner.
Sean thought the whole procedure was bureaucratic theater—just call the Medical Examiner's Office.
The guy had already gone full JFK in Dallas—brain matter everywhere. What was there left to verify?
But regulations are regulations—you've gotta follow protocol no matter how pointless.
Immediate danger past, the scene atmosphere relaxed; only the corpse in the Chevrolet awaited the coroner's arrival as Erin smiled and exhaled: "Never expected my first shift to be this intense!"
That morning she'd been casually slacking off and enjoying Italian food.
The bus harassment incident had already completely slipped her mind.
Sean secured his rifle back into the dashboard rack and said: "You'll remember this day for the rest of your career."
"I absolutely will!" she agreed enthusiastically, then asked: "When are you coming back to duty?"
"Hard to predict, but based on past administrative leaves—probably not until Winston gets his promotion to Commander." He grinned knowingly.
Why so confident? Experience—pure practical experience.
Administrative leave wasn't some myth; shoot enough suspects and you earn the vacation time.
From his past patterns he'd learned the game: Winston wouldn't reinstate him until after securing his own promotion—Sean generated too much administrative headache.
"So what happens to me now?"
Erin was genuinely curious; after Sean's inquiry and Winston's approval she wondered: partner benched again—where did that leave her assignment?
"Come back to the station with me to process the leave paperwork. When we're notified the investigation is complete, we return to active duty."
"Seriously? I'm getting administrative leave too?"
She couldn't believe she'd been placed on paid leave without firing a single round.
With no weapon discharge and zero potential liability, the leave was essentially free vacation time.
Seeing the deceased suspect had genuinely disturbed her—a human life extinguished on her watch;
yet holding the battered, unconscious rescued child completely erased any guilt.
She felt: I helped save an innocent life; even the harshest critic would understand.
Still confused—she hadn't discharged her weapon—why the mandatory leave?
Sean explained patiently: "I discharged my weapon and killed a suspect so I'm automatically benched for the shooting review board. You're my assigned partner; while I'm on leave you'd get reassigned to ride with someone random. I asked Winston to place you on administrative leave as well."
"When I return to duty, if I'm still assigned to patrol you remain my partner; if I get transferred to Detectives, you've essentially scored free paid time off."
Win-win, big win, total victory.
No downside for either of them; the city eliminated two dangerous criminals, LAPD gained two satisfied officers on vacation.
Like winning the lottery without buying a ticket—absolutely unbeatable outcome.
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