by Mary Stone
“I know. Send them in here, will you?”
“Of course.”
When Nick returned with the two officers who had been in the hall, both took off their hats, but the large man with the wide shoulders and perpetually dour expression hung back.
“I know you,” Ellie said after the other officer shook her hand and scurried out of the room and back to his post. “You’re—”
“The jerk from the breakroom?” he finished. He looked smaller with his hat in hands as he nervously twisted the stiff material. He kept his eyes lowered, and Ellie almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
“I was going to say ‘Officer Smythe,’ but okay.” She flashed him a wide smile. “Thank you for having my back today.”
The grin that spread across his face was awkward and magical all at once. She could tell he didn’t smile often, but it was worth the effort. “I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Tomorrow’s a new day.”
“If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you…”
“Actually,” she said with a grin. “There is something you can do.”
Nick helped Ellie into her dress blues the next morning, carefully adjusting the sling on her arm with a worried look on his face. As a detective, she didn’t wear a uniform anymore, but somehow the blue seemed right for what she had to do today.
“You know if you don’t feel up to this, no one is going to blame you.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Now, help me with my hair.”
“How about we leave it loose and down?” Standing behind her, looking into her eyes in the mirror, he finger-combed her curls. “I think this is perfect.”
“It’s unprofessional, and I look like a wild woman.”
“And it was that wild streak that made you the stubborn, relentless person you are.”
She sighed. “All right, you’ve convinced me.”
He kissed her forehead, and she breathed in his clean scent. He was also dressed in his best, determined to stay at her side just as he had done since she was shot six days ago.
Truth be told, she’d needed the mandatory time off, both to heal and because of the investigation following an officer involved shooting. She had four days to go, and as tired as she still was, she was itching to get her fingers on the next case…after she’d officially laid this one to rest.
She still couldn’t believe her mother had not only approved but suggested she stay with Nick while she recuperated.
“Your house?” Ellie had gasped when Nick had told her. “Scandalous.”
He’d laughed. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not that kind of guy.”
“That’s a shame.” She winked at him. “Light exercise helps with recovery.”
“Maybe I could be persuaded. But not until your arm is healed.”
“Fair enough.”
And true enough, he’d been a gentleman the entire time, although she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. But as he opened the passenger door of his Cayenne, then scooped her up and sat her in the seat with a tender kiss. “There’s more where that came from if you behave yourself.”
“Don’t count on it,” she teased.
“Trust me, I’m not.”
Their light-hearted mood turned solemn as they pulled up to the church.
The Baker and Vicente families were already seated when Ellie and Nick walked into the back of the chapel.
Mrs. Baker spotted them right away and waved them over.
On the front pew in the next aisle, a grief-stricken woman in head-to-toe black sat beside a tall man with thick, dark hair. They were stone-faced, mouths set in identical thin lines.
At the front of the church was a large print on an easel of Tabitha and Mabel together, young lives cut short far too soon captured in a moment of bliss. On the marble alter were two urns with delicately carved patterns, side by side. Their names were etched into the metal, along with their birthdates and date of passing.
Ellie knew it was too soon to have the bodies that had been exhumed from the state-funded cemetary cremated. It would take several more days before the women’s ashes were placed inside the containers, but she stared reverently at the two names just the same.
Ellie choked back tears and plastered a kind smile on her face just in time to take Mrs. Baker’s hand in greeting.
Tabitha’s mother said, “I’d hug you, but I hear you had a bit of a go of it last week.”
Had it only been six days? Ellie thought, surprised by everything that had happened since she’d first called on Mrs. Baker at her home.
“I’m fine,” she said quietly. She looked around the chapel, at all the lovely flowers that had arrived for the memorial service. “Are those Mabel’s parents?”
She nodded.
“Have you talked to them?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Baker whispered quietly. “It’s hard because they have so much guilt for not accepting the girls together. And now that Mabel and Tabitha—” Mrs. Baker drew in a quivering breath. “Now that it’s too late, they both have some regrets.”
“Most of us do.” Ellie rubbed Mrs. Baker’s arm in acknowledgment. “Excuse me.”
She slipped by Mrs. Baker and made her way through the crowd to pay her respects to Mabel’s parents.
“Are you the one who found my girl?” Mr. Vicente asked after Ellie introduced herself. “When I think about all that time she was close by. We had no idea. I should’ve felt something. I should’ve known something bad had happened.”
“There’s no way you could’ve known,” Ellie assured them both. “But you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
“It’s a small blessing they were together at least.” Mrs. Vicente dabbed her eyes with a lacey handkerchief. “I wish we could find some way to honor that now.” She reached out and touched Ellie’s cheek. “Thank you for caring about our daughters. They deserved to have justice and you gave that to them.”
Before Ellie could think of what to say, Mrs. Vicente gestured around the chapel and sighed. “And all this. I don’t know how you got the city to pay for it, but it’s too much. We’re the only family Mabel had, and Mr. Baker died and left Mrs. Baker alone.” She let out a heavy breath. “Most of the girls’ friends have started families and moved away. These are the only people we have left.”
Ellie looked at the meager crowd spread across the chapel. Seeing it made her heart hurt, but she had to hide the smile that threatened to peek through. Ellie hadn’t paid the final expenses for both girls to have their loss marked by a handful of near strangers.
The door in the back of the room opened, and Officer Smythe stepped into the doorway. Dressed in his dress blues with white gloves, his hat tucked under his arm in respect, he waited until Ellie nodded before he walked into the room.
Mrs. Baker and the Vicentes gasped in unison as officers walked in step, filling up every last pew, with more than a dozen officers left standing in the back. The room that had felt sullen and empty moments before was filled to overflowing with officers who had come to pay their respects to the young women who had spent the last five years waiting to be identified.
Hot tears suddenly streamed down Ellie’s face, to be the one to finally bring the two young women peace. She turned to go stand with the others, swiping at her tears, when Mrs. Vicente took Ellie’s hand and tugged gently. “You belong in the front with the family. If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here today.”
Ellie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Mrs. Baker sat down next to her, and nestled between the grieving mothers, the tears flowed freely.
For the first time in a long time, Ellie felt an overwhelming sense of calm. She’d stuck her neck out and defied her superior officer, all for this moment. With Nick behind her and the families of two young women who would never be called Jane Doe again surrounding her, Ellie knew what she was meant to do.
30
Fortis beaconed her to his office the moment she showed up to work the following M
onday, ten days after her release from the hospital.
“How did you enjoy your vacation?” he teased. “I bet you’re itching to get your desk moved and get to work.”
She’d thought she was about to be given a lecture about working on the first case of his list he’d given her. “Moved?”
“You know, upstairs? Out of cold cases, and out of the evidence room.” He gestured toward a man on the other side of his glassed-in office, who was carrying what resembled her desk chair. “Of course, you’ll have to see the department shrink for a bit before you’ll be cleared to carry a weapon again, but that’s just protocol. You can work on fresh cases until you finish your stint with the head doctor. Light duty. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not.”
His smile slipped. “I thought you were all about proving yourself so you could get out of there.” He thumbed toward the basement. “You caught the captain’s attention, and he’s more than pleased with everything you’ve done. Hell, I think he’d give you my job if you asked for it at this point.”
“With all due respect, I’d like to stay in Cold Cases.”
Fortis lowered his voice, glancing at the outer office. “This isn’t about your case, is it? I could lose my job for letting you get into it.”
“No, it’s not.” She took a deep breath. “I know that cold cases are the ones that no one wants to catch, but sir, when I solved that case and got to see those families finally bring their loved ones home to rest, something about it felt right. I want to do that for more people. All the people in the back corner of that locker deserve to have justice.”
“If you turn down this offer, I’m not sure when another will come up. There’s a chance you’ll be stuck in Cold Cases for a long time.”
“I hope so,” she said. “Now, is there any way someone can take my things back downstairs? I have a lot I can be working on until I’m healed enough for the field again.”
“Sure.” Fortis sat back with a warm smile. “But you still have to see the shrink.”
She groaned and blew a stray strand of curly red hair away from her face. “Fine. I guess I’ll get it over with.”
“That’s a relief. I thought that would be a bigger fight with you.”
“Don’t worry, the fact that I’m going willingly doesn’t mean I’ve changed.” She shot him a grin. “I’m still the same old Ellie.”
Fortis’s laugh filled the space, echoing off the ceiling tiles that did almost nothing to deaden the sound. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
Ellie left Fortis, and after finding the psychologist’s office. She’d come to make an appointment and had been surprised to be told that the good doctor could see her right away.
Might as well get it over with.
After introductions, the blond Dr. Powell sat in an armchair across from her with his legs crossed, hands folded over his knees, a placid smile on his face. Pen and paper sat on the end table beside him, but he made no move to use either.
“So, where shall we start?” Ellie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. His constant, unwavering eye contact was making her self-conscious.
His blue eyes assessed her, as if he could read every move she made. He seemed to thrum a nervous energy just beneath the surface, as if he might bubble over at any moment. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know something of your story, so why don’t we start with the incident on the bridge?”
“That’s not when I got shot,” she protested.
“You’re right, it’s not. But it seems to me that everything you do and all the ways you put yourself in danger all stem from the same need. Am I close?”
Ellie bristled. “I’m not putting myself in danger. I’m chasing suspects and capturing criminals.”
“And you’re jumping off bridges into gator-infested waters and running after murderers without backup. That’s not exactly safety conscious work there, even if you have inspired half of Charleston to apply to wear the badge.” He smiled and wrote something in illegible chicken scratch, humming to himself. “Very nice, actually. You’re better PR for the department than all the commercial spots combined. But that doesn’t explain why you’re always the one in the thick of things. Danger seems to follow you like a lost hellhound.”
“Luck of the draw.” The smile she gave him felt forced, even to her. “The perps we end up chasing are the ones we have to catch. I don’t get to choose who jumps off a bridge and who surrenders peacefully.”
“Have you considered taking a more careful approach? You know, like your former partner.” He checked his notes. “Jacob Garcia. I took a peek at his file, and he hasn’t jumped off a bridge or followed a murderer into the woods with no backup, and somehow, he’s been on the force for several years longer than you have. He’s also never been shot.” Dr. Powell looked over the rims of his glasses at her. “You don’t find that even the slightest bit odd?”
She shrugged. “Not really.”
“Shall I go over a few other officers and their stats?”
“Are you allowed to do that?”
“I’m allowed to peruse any file and make recommendations as I see fit.” He blinked at her, totally nonchalant. “It’s what I do.”
Ellie pursed her lips. “I thought we were going to talk about me getting shot and whether I’m still having nightmares or not.”
“Most people have nightmares after a near-death experience. I’m not so much concerned about that as I am about the reckless behavior. We want you to be safe. Many of your fellow officers were upset to find out that you’d nearly died. How does that make you feel?”
“I’m not one of those women who likes to talk about my feelings.”
“You should try it.” He chuckled. “You might find you really do like it. If you don’t want to talk about how supported you felt when the entire department showed up to hold vigil during your surgery, maybe you want to tell me what you went through that makes you feel like you’re invincible.”
She blinked back hot tears and tried to tamp down the sudden rush of anger in her chest. That was the trouble. She wasn’t invincible. Not even in the least. “I’m surprised you don’t know already, after looking in my file.”
“Your file doesn’t tell me what makes you tick. It only tells me what you do that breaks protocol.”
“Okay, I guess this is a safe space, right?” She didn’t want to, but she guessed explaining what led her to become an officer would get this guy off her back faster. And the quicker she was out of here, the quicker she could be working another cold case.
“Nothing you say leaves this room.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, ready to get it all out in a rush. “Well, you probably already know that, when I was fifteen, I wanted to go to the movies with a guy who was a senior, but I was a freshman. My parents said no, so I told them I was staying the night at a friend’s house, and as soon as my mom dropped me off, he picked me up.”
“There’s nothing overly rebellious about that. It’s human nature to defy our parents for young love.”
She didn’t need a lecture about young love and rebellion. “Yeah, well, it didn’t go as planned.”
“Going behind our parents’ backs rarely does.”
It was hard not to roll her eyes, but she managed not to. “He took me to a party instead. There was drinking, and I was uncomfortable. Things got out of control, and I ended up walking through Charleston in the middle of the night, not sure if I should go home or to my friend’s house.”
“Did your friend know she was your alibi?”
“No. That’s why I decided to find my way home and sneak into my room. My parents were up and out of the house by six a.m. most days, so I thought I could get away with saying I got a ride home early or something.”
He nodded, making a note. “What happened?”
Her chest swelled as she sucked in a deep breath, and sagged when she let it out. “That’s where it gets hazy.”
“We
re you drunk?”
“No.”
“Did someone drug you?” Powell stiffened minutely but his expression didn’t change.
“It’s possible, but that’s not what happened.” The deep dark of that night flashed before her eyes, and she swallowed, blinking until the light of the room pushed it back. “I was walking, and someone offered me a ride. The next thing I knew, I was in this dark place, begging for my life.”
Dr. Powell leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “How did your parents find you?”
“I escaped.”
“Wow.” Powell’s eyes went wide and his gaze sharpened on her. “That’s impressive. How did you manage that?”
“I don’t know, which is what haunts me. I can’t remember much at all.” Sometimes, she wished it wasn’t that way, that she could just remember so she would know there was nothing she was missing. So she wouldn’t feel so lost. So…crazy. “Just a few scattered memories here and there. Nothing that makes sense.”
“How did you get ahold of your parents before you were recaptured?”
“I didn’t. I was running, looking over my shoulder and screaming for help. I must’ve been closer to the road than I thought because the next thing I remember, I was in the hospital recovering from being hit by a squad car. That’s the moment I decided I wanted to be a police officer.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Powell nodded, glancing over his notes. “I can see why you feel invincible. After an experience like that, mortality seems like a distant issue and not something that can happen at any time.”
She shook her head, laughing softly. “But I don’t really feel that way.” Did she? “I don’t think about it. I just react and get the job done, then sometimes afterward the adrenaline crashes and I realize how badly I could’ve been injured.”
“Do you feel some kind of regret at those times? Maybe a little fear?”
“A little.” She tried not to smile at the exhilaration she’d experienced in those instances. “But mostly, I guess I just feel like I’ve done something that someone else wouldn’t, and that feels good.”
