by Mary Stone
The video ended with the hysterical laughter of the buffoons videoing from the bridge, commenting on the pantsless thug and his harrowing flight from the redhaired goddess in blue.
I closed the tab and opened the news story, which I sent to the printer. The printing was done in a flash, silently and without a single smudge. In the center of another printout, an updated picture of Ellie several hours later, divine in a deep blue dress with her curls loose around her angelic face.
I carefully cut the picture out of one of two copies I’d printed, then I glued it to a square paper with the other photos of her I’d found plastered all over the internet in the last twenty-four hours.
Ellie stepping out of a god-awful yellow Mini Cooper.
Ellie and her oafish little brother climbing the stairs.
Ellie on the balcony in the arms of Charleston’s most eligible bachelor.
The last picture had rocked much of Charleston, which amused me to no end. Ellie was a gorgeous woman, and Nick Greene was the son of very wealthy people. Like the prince suddenly swept off the market by a princess, the commoners seemed to think that was the only reason they didn’t have a chance with royalty. It was painfully delusional.
If only stupidity was physically painful.
When I’d placed the new sheet neatly in the scrapbook, I thumbed through the pages and sighed. The only good thing about her sudden popularity was the plethora of material I was able to find online. In four days, I’d filled up two books. I had another empty one ready, just in case. I never knew when new pictures of Ellie would find their way to me.
I loaded maps on my computer and clicked on the street view of the building where she lived. In another tab, I opened up the virtual tour on the building’s website and hit play.
The video was an amateur job, and the cameraperson had opted for bare feet instead of sensible shoes and a silent video. Each step came through the speakers, her breathing soft and gentle with the steadiness of someone who was Olympic fit. I didn’t need to catch a flash of that red hair in the master bathroom mirror to know it was Ellie behind the camera, but I waited, holding my breath and eyeing the counter. At exactly sixty-eight seconds in, I paused the video and reached out.
I was careful not to smudge the monitor as my fingers hovered over a deliciously fat curl. The moment held so much for me. I could almost smell the two-hundred-dollar per ounce conditioner it would take to achieve defined curls that looked that soft. I longed to wrap the perfect tendril around my finger and tug until she whimpered. Would her nostrils flare with excitement? Would her eyes tell me to drop dead?
There were so many questions I needed answered.
I let myself enjoy the freeze-frame for a long moment before I finally let the video play again.
Her voice was measured, her diction perfect. There was only a hint of the natural Southern accent most of Charleston spoke with. Like the city’s elite, Ellie had a way of speaking that set her apart and made her stand out from the unwashed masses. Every syllable dripped with class and education.
Every word spoke to my soul as she showed me her favorite corners of the apartment that looked like all the others, convincing me that the thousands a month for rent was a steal for the amenities included. Luxury in the heart of Charleston’s French Quarter. And the owner’s daughter living on the top floor.
She was right. Her building was worth every penny, and the people who lived there likely had no idea how very lucky they were. They were in the presence of greatness, separated from divinity by brick walls and clean lines of smooth steel. The world didn’t deserve Ellie Kline, but I did.
A knock at the door came precisely when I expected it, but the interruption still enraged me.
“Yes?” I called, my voice distant and unrecognizable to my own ears. How I hated to put on airs for the masses, but I had a business to maintain. Playing nice with commoners was part of that.
“Your three o’clock just arrived,” my assistant murmured through the door. “Do you want me to send them in?”
“Yes, send them in,” I said without moving from my desk. “At exactly three and not a moment before, thank you.”
Five minutes. Five precious minutes left with my queen. Then it was back to the workday, wasting my smiles on people who couldn’t hold a candle to Ellie Kline.
I pressed my thumb on the thumbprint scanner that protected the bottom drawer, and it popped open. I pulled the drawer all the way out, smiling at the many scrapbooks I’d filled. Ellie’s book belonged right in the front, but all the attention she was getting had me on edge.
Tapping my finger on the desk with each number I whispered reverently, I counted off the color-coded pairs. Thirty-seven books in all rested in the drawer. Eighteen lucky friends, and one who was not so lucky.
Ellie’s books were soft blue, though I’d been tempted to choose a vibrant red to match her hair. But the other books were pastel, and I wanted her to blend in. I didn’t want anyone to take notice—should the situation arise—to violate my time with Ellie. Besides, she didn’t need gaudy trappings to earn my attention; she was my everything and more.
Her books slid in easily with the others, and I closed the drawer just as the doorknob turned, and the gorgeous face of my young assistant appeared.
“It’s three, sir,” he said with a soft voice that honored his status in my life. He was nothing. Without me, he would have no home and no life, and he knew it. He was my favorite so far, but they all started that way.
He looked nervous, so I forced myself to make eye contact and smile to put him at ease. The gesture worked, as it always did.
“Send them in,” I told him. “And thank you.”
Soft brown eyes lit up, and he all but preened. His full lips broke into a generous smile, every hint of the desolate street dweller he’d been now gone. He’d cleaned up nice, as they said, and he’d been particularly impressionable even from the start. I’d trained this one quicker than the rest, and even I was surprised by how thoroughly he’d changed.
But I didn’t have time to dwell on my accomplishments or my dear, feisty Ellie. Duty called, and it was back to the grind for me. Young Ellie would have to wait until I was ready to play.
That’s how it had always been. The moment would come when it was time. And when it was time, it would be as sweet as I’d dreamt it would be.
Patience was my virtue, and the best flowers were well worth the wait.
9
Ellie’s low heels clicked on the tile of the wide hallway, the echo joined by the footsteps of officers coming into Charleston PD after an all-nighter.
Dressed in a smart navy pantsuit with a shirt that was a little more cream than yellow, she’d rounded out the look with nude pumps that were functional and fashionable. Her mess of red curls was pulled back in a no-nonsense bun at the nape of her neck. Two bobby pins on each side of her head tamed the little wisps at her temples, completing the look. It was one of the same styles she always wore her hair in at work, with the exception of her uniform hat.
Her head felt bare, but the sensation was nothing compared to the one she picked up from the eyes that watched her as she walked past. Some of her coworkers smiled and nodded, but she was met with more than a few glares broadcasting their jealousy.
She was starting to regret the choice to head for coffee in the breakroom when a pair of familiar brown eyes caught her attention.
Jacob smiled and hurried over to greet her. “You look ready to kick some ass,” he said as he motioned for her to join him to the side of the breakroom door.
“I figured you’d already be out and working with your new partner today,” she teased, wondering why he wasn’t wearing his uniform.
“I have the week off.”
Concern mixed with curiosity. “Did you get reprimanded for what happened on the bridge?”
He shook his head. “I’ll pick the K-9 up from the trainer later today. The first week with Duke is bonding, then several weeks of training. I’ll be getting
paid to hang out at home with the dog. It’s a pretty sweet deal.”
“He’s going to live with you?”
Jacob shrugged, not seeming to mind the idea. “That’s how this works. He’s family now.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.” She offered him a saucy wink. “Come on. I need caffeine.” At the breakroom door, she faltered for a second, then lifted her chin and shouldered her way through without a word to the beefy man in blue standing there with arms crossed, glaring at her.
“What gives?” Jacob asked him, but the other officer only grunted and moved into the hallway. Jacob stared at the man’s back until he disappeared around a corner. “Don’t let them get to you. Those of us who know you are happy for you.”
They were standing shoulder to shoulder at the counter as Jacob poured them each a cup and Ellie ripped open enough sugar packets to make the brown sludge drinkable. “Thanks. Maybe I should’ve stopped for coffee on the way in.”
“Why? You may have taken an unconventional route to get your promotion, but you still earned it. If they can’t handle that, it’s on them.” He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a friendly squeeze as she took a sip to test the coffee’s flavor. “This is the happiest day of your life. Making detective is what you’ve always wanted, and you’ve earned it. If they want recognition for a job well done, maybe they need to be willing to jump into turtle-infested waters to get the bad guy.”
Ellie snorted mid-sip, clearing her throat to keep from choking. “Stop it,” she laughed.
“Have you seen the loop someone made of him climbing onto your shoulders and screaming? It’s hilarious. You’re viral now, and for all the right reasons.” He pulled out his phone. “Then, there’s this one.”
It was a ten-second video of Ellie the moment she jumped off the bridge, complete with a soundtrack and a superhero cape.
“That’s pretty good,” she said after she caught her breath from laughing. “It looks like I was actually wearing a cape.”
“I was pretty impressed myself.” He scrolled through his saved videos. “Here’s one of me.”
In the gif, Jacob stood on the bridge, hands on hips, saying the same two words over and over. “Dammit, Ellie,” video-Jacob repeated, shaking his head at the end of each loop as his dark gaze followed her vault over the bridge railing.
“No wonder you’re so happy about your new partner.”
“There are dozens of these,” he mused, putting his phone back in his pocket. “You could waste a whole day on them.”
“I guess I know what you did all weekend.”
He snorted. “I’m much more exciting than that. I slept. I have a lot going on in the next few weeks.”
She poured more sugar into her coffee. “Why so much training, though? I thought they started K-9s as puppies.”
“The training isn’t for the dog,” Jacob laughed. “It’s for me. To start with, I have to learn all the commands in French, and I have to practice taking down bad guys with a dog in the way.”
“It won’t be that much different,” a voice called out from behind them.
Ellie’s hackles raised on her neck, but her hand went to Jacob’s arm, who had already tensed. She knew him well enough to know that he’d reached his limit.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Just let it go.”
Jacob was angry, but he nodded. “Let’s get out of here.” He gestured with his coffee cup toward the door. “I’ll walk you to your office.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “I’m starting my day in the evidence locker downstairs.”
“Then I’ll walk you to the elevator.”
She let him, smiling at the officers who offered their congratulations as they made their way through the maze of halls that eventually led to the service corridor.
Jacob stopped in front of the elevator, but he didn’t press the button to summon the car. His eyes were soft, his full lips pulled down in a frown.
“What is it?” she asked.
He shrugged, meeting her eyes, a well of emotions swimming in them. “I wish people could be happy for you.”
“Some are, and that’s enough.”
“It’s not. You’re just used to people disapproving of your choices. This is crap. You’re a good cop, and you’re going to make an awesome detective. You don’t deserve this.”
She touched his arm, then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.
He froze for a moment then held her in the deserted hallway. When he let her go, he pursed his lips, then blew out a loud, slow breath that echoed in the narrow space. “When they assigned me the squad problem child, I thought this would be the best day of my life. You know, moving on and joining the K-9 unit. All Danver talked about was how I could prove myself by keeping you in line and making sure you didn’t hurt yourself. I was ready to babysit you.”
She huffed out a breath and reached out to push the elevator button. “Babysit?”
“Let me finish.” His eyes were damp as he fought to hold his emotions in check. “But you, Ellie, you were a force of nature. I realized right away they’d misunderstood you. People are going to underestimate you because of who you are, but it’s going to bite them in the ass in the end. Use that to your advantage, but don’t let it get to you. You’re a bad-ass cop, and you’re going to be an even better detective.” He flashed her a bright smile. “I believe in you. Have a good first day.”
He patted her arm and walked away before she could react, jogging down the hall and disappearing around the corner.
When she stepped onto the elevator, she was blinking away the tears that threatened as it clicked—he’d come to the station that morning just to walk her in. That alone blew her away, and she had to dab at her eyes this time. But his words had bolstered her confidence, which had taken a hit when she’d been assigned to cold cases. She knew it was grunt work, a way to prove herself before they gave her more urgent cases.
She lifted her chin up high. She was going to surprise them.
With Jacob’s words echoing in her head, she stepped out of the elevator and made her way to the evidence room. Her steps faltered when she rounded the corner, and through the glass partition, spotted a blonde woman at the desk. The woman looked up, gave her a welcoming smile that spread her red lips wide, and hit the buzzer that unlocked the outer door.
“You must be Detective Kline,” the woman said warmly. “I’m Jillian Reed.”
“Hi,” Ellie said, still a little shocked.
Jillian was petite and wispy in stature with stick-straight blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and hazel eyes that were more gray than brown. Delicate, soft, and feminine. It was her eyes that gave her away. Ellie could see the woman’s mind working, and she had no doubt that Jillian was whip-smart.
Ellie couldn’t keep the grin from growing on her face as she responded to the other woman’s warmth.
Jillian’s laugh danced on the air like wind chimes. Ellie liked her right away. “Fortis didn’t tell you I was a woman, I guess?”
“I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks heated. “It’s not you, it’s just that—”
“Charleston PD is a total boys club, and we’re like the only two women here? Yeah, I noticed.”
Ellie chuckled. “I think it’s a few more than just us, but yeah, he didn’t mention it.”
“Well, don’t worry. I don’t bite, and I’m happy you’re here.” She handed Ellie a small piece of paper with two six-digit numbers. “These are your specific codes. When you’re done memorizing them, pop the paper in the shredder. You don’t want anyone else getting ahold of your codes.”
“Thanks.” Ellie committed the numbers to memory and dropped the small square into the paper shredder beside Jillian’s desk.
Jillian arched an eyebrow. “That was quick.”
“I have a good memory.”
“That’s going to serve you well down here.” Jillian nodded, looking impressed. “There’s a lot of information t
o absorb. Did Fortis tell you what case you’re starting on?”
“He said I could look around and see if anything jumps out at me.”
Jillian clapped her hands together once, the sound echoing off the cinder blocks. Her face lit with delight, she jumped up and moved to the inner door that separated the evidence from her office area. “I have just the one, I think. You don’t have to pick this one, but oh, it’s been bothering me since I first heard about it, and I’ve never been able to stop thinking about it.”
“All right. I’ll take a look.” Ellie followed Jillian, who was nearly bubbling with excitement.
“You’ll need to put your code in. It’s how they track who’s in and out. I’m expected to access the rooms several times a day, but if there’s a chance you’re going to take any files out, you’ll have to access the room yourself.”
Ellie punched in the code, and the door unlocked with a beep.
Jillian breezed past her, muttering to herself and walking so fast that Ellie had to hurry to keep up. Names and dates were scrawled on each box until they entered the section that held victims who were never identified, where Jillian stopped. Here, the boxes all looked the same. Each was marked with “Jane Doe” or “John Doe” and a series of numbers that signified the date. There were several on the same date, Ellie realized. Those boxes had an additional number at the end, based on their order of discovery. To further separate the unknown victims, the location and time found were clearly marked.
“There are so many,” Ellie said, her voice loud in the tomblike silence. Now that she was about to get her hands on an actual case, the number of cases waiting to be solved seemed insurmountable.
They were both silent for a moment. The weight of the suffering the victims must have experienced, and all the unanswered questions that needed unraveling lay heavy on Ellie’s shoulders.
