Free First Offense by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg

respected throughout the county as an outstanding supervisor.
    “Little shit is such a bitcher,” Claudette said. “Every time I assign Rogers a case with more than one count, he cries like a damn baby. Doesn’t even know what a bingo sheet is yet and refuses to learn. You hear me, Rogers?” she yelled over the partition, her voice as big as Texas. “Your mommy should have whipped you when you was a kid, stopped all this complaining shit. Look at Ann here, already back on the job. Now, that’s the kind of people we need around here, not a bunch of sniveling crybabies.”
    “My mom did whip me,” Rogers yelled back, undaunted and long suffering under Claudette’s abuse. “That’s what’s wrong with me. Now I’ve got you for a boss. I’m going to apply for a mental disability if you don’t leave me alone, Claudette. Maybe even sexual harassment might work. Then every month when they pay me, they’ll deduct it from your check.”
    “I wouldn’t fuck your skinny white ass if you was the last man on earth,” Claudette quickly retorted.
    Chuckles and snide comments from other probation officers rang out and then were replaced with a chorus of voices: “Welcome back, Ann.”
    “Thanks, guys. Glad to be back.” The probation officers in the unit had been very supportive, coming to see her in the hospital, offering to help with David, bringing food to the house.
    “I want to take Jimmy Sawyer back to court and get his probation switched,” she said to Claudette once the unit was quiet again. “What do you think? Do you think Hillstorm will go for it? I more or less promised Sawyer I’d do it.”
    “Why in the hell would you do that?” Claudette barked, her dark eyes flashing. “The D.A.‘s office is about to charge him with the shooting and toss him in jail.”
    “He saved my life, Claudette,” Ann said. She couldn’t believe Glen was really going after Sawyer, with no solid evidence to back him up. Not only that, it was completely unlike him to jump in feet first. He liked cases that led to certain convictions. “You know Glen Hopkins and I have been dating, Claudette, and he’s livid over what happened to me. He must think the sooner he files, the sooner I’ll be out of danger. There are no other suspects or leads, so he’s going after Sawyer.”
    “Maybe the man is right,” Claudette said.
    Ann shook her head. “I’m certain it wasn’t him.
    How many people shoot you and then stop to give you first aid? If he wanted to hurt me, why didn’t he just let me bleed to death?”
    “Humph,” Claudette said, shifting her ample hips from side to side in the small chair and then lunging forward over the desk. “No free rides. You know how I feel about that. Besides, Hillstorm will just think you don’t want to supervise him. It’ll never fly.”
    Although Ann respected this woman, she also felt Claudette was being unnecessarily callous. If her supervisor had been the person bleeding on the sidewalk, she would know how Ann felt about Jimmy Sawyer. But Claudette was the boss, and Ann didn’t have the strength right now to go up against her. “You’re the supervisor,” Ann said, standing.
    Time to take the plunge, she thought, see how bad the damage was in her office. “Shit,” Ann screamed once she walked into her cubicle. Half the people in the unit, including Claudette, rushed into her office, looks of terror on their faces. Ann glanced over her shoulder at them. “Sorry. No one’s shooting at me but the records clerk.” Ann kicked a big cardboard box out of her way so she had a small path to walk to her desk. “Look at this place. I knew it would be bad. I never thought it would be this bad.”
    Everywhere Ann looked were case files and cardboard boxes. Her ten years with the agency, coupled with her considerable expertise, had left her in the unenviable position of handling only the most complex and serious cases in the system. This meant mountains and mountains of paper: trial