Time Frame: This story takes place shortly after Fallen Heroes, Part II. Before Mike Kellerman became a Pi and was still, as he puts it, “Falling off bar stools all over Fells Point.”

***

It was atypically cool for May.

Thefirst thing she noticed was that summer had yet to make its full appearance in her old hometown. The wind coming off the Harbor added to the chill, causing her to wrap her navy blue cardigan tight against her body. Standing up against the driver’s side of her rented Ford Taurus, she vacillated. Mike had his “moods”, sullen, self-pitying moments when leaving him to his pain was the best thing anyone could do for him. “How can IT’ she argues to herself, “After what Mom told me? The little guy needs to know he still has someone who ‘has his back’ Little guy?” She chuckled at the memory, more at the inappropriateness of the moniker. He was at least six inches taller than she.

She hadn’t planned to come back to Charm City, but a frantic phone call from her mother worried Erin Hennessey, nec Kellennan, enough to take the first flight she could out of St. Louis. The only clue the young woman had as to what was occurring was that he had phoned his parents in a drunken haze and announced that he was no longer a cop, followed by angry invectives against one Paul Falsone and the Baltimore Police Department as a whole before he hung up abruptly. Since then the attempts by their parents, his ex-partner, and the handful of friends to help him cope with the loss of the one goal he had for his life proved futile. He was angry, bitter, despairing over troubles he felt no one could understand. In the last two years, she sensed the slow deterioration of his personality until the phone calls stopped altogether. Isolating himself, venturing out of his houseboat only to get loaded on his poison of choice, Jim Beam, and maybe to take care of only the most basic of errands.

One day, a buddy of his from his police academy days, a Northeastern uniform, knocked on her parent’s door to report Mike missing. The boat was not in its slip for three days, the marina operator taken aback as much as the friend about Killerman's sudden disappearance. Erin got the call from her mom, deciding to come to Baltimore if for nothing more than to assist her mother.

The oldest of the Kellerman children, seven years Mike’s senior, she possessed similar pale blue eyes and freckles as he. Being the first in the family, by design or temperament. she took on the role of her brother’s protectors. Drew and Greg taxed her capacities as the big sister, involving themselves in a plethora of illegal activities and questionable situations. Mike was the son his father held in esteem. Like Erin, he suffered from the malady people in the neighborhood called “Catholic guilt.” When either participated in anything vaguely akin to being wrong, that guilt wore their consciences down until confession was the only relief.
Mike’s desire to be a police officer was an extension of that belief.

She coaxed errant strands of her hair away from her face as she walked down the pier, searching for his houseboat. She did not find it unusual that he chose to live here. Fishing was a passion he held since childhood, and he had made countless trips down the bay in search of the big catch. Once he caught a 20-pound marlin and bragged about for days.

Finding the “Case Closed” at the end of the pier, what she saw simultaneously broke her heart and repelled her. Her little brother, Michael Scott, was slouched down in a deck chair, cradling a bottle of Wild Turkey, staring out nowhere in particular.
He had lost weight, too much she thought. Mike had taking pride in how he kept his body in shape. Now it appeared as though he no longer cared. His hair was cropped short, the loss in body fat made his boyish face gaunt and ashen. He appeared ten years older. ‘Mikey?” she asked quietly.

The former detective turned to look at his sister; a half smile decorating his pallor. His dimples disappeared from his countenance. He greeted her smugly, the lingering scent of hard liquor on his breath. “Well.” he mumbled grimly. “Daddy’s little princess has come home.”

“Mikey, c’mon.” Erin’s impatience showed in her voice.

“Don’t tell me.” He pointed a finger into the air, gesturing as though he was scolding an errant child. “Mom sent you here. She’s worried right?

“She says you have been depressed, yes.” Erin’s reply was even. Pausing, she added. “Dad told me..

‘Oh. Dad told you.” he repeated sarcastically. “And Dad probably told you what a screw-up his baby boy is, huh? Well, he can add me to the list of his greatest disappointments then.” Mike took a swallow of the now warm whiskey, looking up at the early evening sky. “But you, you were never a problem Erin.” he slurred curtly, “Good ole Erin Kellerman. Never was there a better child, a smarter child, hell you’d probably be a saint if you like died or something. Dad bragged about you whenever he could.” He exaggerated an imitation of the Kellerman paterfamilias, intoning gravely as best as his state allowed him to. “Look at your sister boys. Why can’t you be like Erin? I never have to worry about Erin. She is such a good girl...”

  Indeed, it seemed that she escaped the bounds of their Irish, working-class situation. Erin had gone to college on a scholarship, studied education, and taught in a parochial school before marrying Jack Hennessey. A few years later, she went to St. Louis with her husband and two children when his company transferred him. She would pretend not to admit it, but leaving Baltimore gave her the peace she sought. Living up to the image on the pedestal that her father built for her was becoming increasingly difficult to manage.

Only once did she step over the painstakingly drawn line their father laid out for his children. At a high school graduation party, Erin got smashed on Jack Daniels and took a dare to go running half naked through the neighborhood park. She was arrested, but a sympathetic judge dropped the charges, deciding the lesson was learned. She remembered his lather’s face, crestfallen and angry, when they returned home from the jail. Erin’s eyes were clouded, her head hung low. Father and daughter did not speak to one another the next day. She never strayed again.

“You know, Dad thought I took that bribe.” His sadness overshadowed his anger, his face registering the pain of a young boy losing his father’s trust.

“I didn’t believe the charges.”

Mike glared at his sister, then snorted derisively.

“You’re not perfect, hut I believe you would never compromise your badge. I always had faith in your ethics Mikey. You were railroaded. You should have fought back.”

“It’s a little late sis.” He finished the booze, throwing the empty container off the side of the boat.

“No Mike, it’s not.”

 “What do you know about it Erin, huh?” Mike’s face contorted with rage as he rose up unsteadily from the chair. “I could of given up two of my fellow cops, but I didn’t. I saved their asses, and now that can’t be seen with me? Like what, I will make them dirty too?”

“All the more reason for you to go back there and stand up for yourself.” she argued, ignoring his skepticism.

“All of it, is on me.” His voice dropped to an anguished whisper. Placing his face into his strong hands, he plopped down onto the deck. “The dead cops, Bayliss, all my fault Erin.”

“Did you pull the trigger? Huh?” she demanded.

Kellerman reared his head, regarding his sister nonchalantly.

“The only person who should take the blame is that punk that shot up the place, not you.”

“Yeah?” he snickered, “Tell that to my lieutenant will ya?”

“Fine Mikey. whatever.” She tossed her hands up in the air, resigning to his attitude. Typical, he wouldn’t accept a lifeline if he were drowning.

“Why did you come Emin?” Once more, his temper flared, casting a cold, hard look at her. “You want to drag me down too?
Go ahead, take a shot at me.”

“I care Mikey.” she answered, “Why do you that so hard to believe?”

“M okay.” he muttered, tearing his gaze away from his sister.

“No, you’re everything but.” Erin held out her hand. “C’mon bro, let me come aboard. I’ll make us some coffee, then we can have some dinner and talk. You and me, like when were kids.”

 “Erin... Mike’s voice was quiet, filled with despair. “I need to be alone. I don’t want to be a problem.’

‘Yeah, and that’s new?’ she teased.

Mike chuckled, managing to be overcome by warm, comforting memories of his childhood in spite of his drunkenness.

“Let me get you something to eat.” Erin offered, “your choice. I’ll even eat enchiladas if that is what you would like.”

‘Ya sure you want to he seen with me?’ he slurred, sadly.

“Mike,” she repeated. sternly, “you need to get some nourishment.”

Damn if she didn’t sound exactly like their mother. “Coffee sounds good.” he mumbled, trying to smile but only coming up with a pained expression.

She was sincere, and the solitary tear falling down her cheek was heartfelt. Mike got up and helped her down onto the deck.
They hugged each other tightly for a moment. Breaking the embrace, she smiled warmly at him. “No matter what, I will always have faith in you bro’.”