Two nights ago my husband came home late from work. Some wives would follow that statement with an air of suspicion. Not in my house.
Because two nights ago my husband was a hero. Not that he’s not a hero any other day (especially in the eyes of our six-year-old son) but on that night he went above and beyond.
Earlier in the evening he was dispatched to a late report for a child abuse complaint. No one was too excited to take that particular call (understandably so) but my hubby offered up. The victim, a two-year-old child, had a black eye, 2nd degree burns from scalding water and bite marks all over his body.
Most of the time with child abuse cases the complaint is investigated, involved parties are interviewed, the injuries are documented and, if enough evidence is present, a warrant is issued and if we’re really lucky we pick the suspect up some time down the road to answer for those charges. It’s generally a very long process and by the time we get to the end the suspect will plead the charges down to a little bit of nothing.
That’s not what happened two night’s ago.
My husband did all those things and more. He worked the case from beginning to end. From original caller/complainant to in-custody arrest all in one shift (plus an additional three hours beyond the end of said shift). He tracked down the suspect at a huge apartment complex knowing nothing more than his name, a brief physical description and an idea of places he might possibly hang out. He found the suspect, needle in the haystack that he was, got a full confession out of him and arrested him on Felony Child Abuse charges. That is one remarkable shift.
When he got home he said, “That case was worth every second of the three plus hours I stayed late to secure charges against the suspect.” He said that case reaffirmed why he puts on the uniform everyday. I said he’s a hero, especially to that two-year-old victim.