by Staci Hart
Definitely the bad cop.
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Rhodes didn’t move his hands from where they laid threaded in his lap.
“It’s fresh. Just made it.”
“Can I ask again what this is about?”
Davis took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Sure, sure.”
He flipped the folder open, and inside lay a photo of Hannah. Her hair was so blond, her uniform so red, her smile so bright in what looked to be her yearbook photo.
Rhodes made a sympathetic face, his tone full of compassion. “Oh, I remember when that girl went missing a few months ago. I told you guys everything I knew then, which wasn’t much, I’m afraid.”
“Right, we have your statement here.” Davis handed Rhodes the sheet with his statement on it, and the photo underneath almost broke his facade.
It was another photo of Hannah, but she was almost unrecognizable. Her skin looked like stretched leather, her hair like brass instead of corn silk. The plastic that he’d wrapped her in was pulled back so the photographer could get a shot of her face.
Rhodes didn’t miss a beat. “Whoa, is that what happened to her?”
“Oh, sorry,” Davis said with nonchalance. “I forgot that was there.” He shuffled the papers around, flipping through photographs of different women, ghosts of Rhodes’s conquests.
Rhodes shook his head, his outward appearance and voice innocent even though he could barely hear over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. “Did the same guy kill all of them?” he asked.
“We think so, yes.” Davis reached under the stack and pulled out a baggie, laying it in front of Rhodes unceremoniously.
Rhodes’s hands clenched in his lap along with every muscle in his abdomen.
Anne’s necklace lay inside, the small bird stamped onto the silver disc staring at him through the plastic. Everything came back to him in a rush. He could see her lying on the ground in front of him, could feel her pulse in his fingers.
He kept his face smooth, only showing an air of mild curiosity. “What’s that?”
“Have you ever seen this before?” Davis’s body language and tone were relaxed, but his eyes probed Rhodes.
Cat and mouse.
“I’m sorry. I can’t say that I have.”
Davis nodded. “We found it today in the window track of an apartment nearby. A girl was strangled to death and raped there on the night we found Hannah’s body. She was an investigator who had been looking into Hannah’s disappearance.”
“Wow. Do you think the same guy killed her too?”
“It’d make sense, wouldn’t it?”
“I guess it would. But I still don’t quite understand what exactly this has to do with me.”
Davis’s cool eyes didn’t leave Rhodes’s face. “We received an anonymous tip today that said you were involved in not only the murders of Anne Martin and Hannah Mills, but a number of prostitutes as well as a girl from your hometown, Jane Bernard. We take calls like that seriously, but those are some pretty wild accusations, wouldn’t you say?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “That’s crazy.”
“I know, right?” Davis said, his tone disbelieving. “Do you know of anyone who would want to defame you? There’s no accounting for crazy people. Maybe one of them called in the tip?”
“Gosh, not off the top of my head.”
“Would you mind giving us a DNA sample and your fingerprints? You know, just to rule yourself out.”
Rhodes laughed wholeheartedly at that one. “Yes, I would mind actually. Am I being charged with anything?”
Davis’s jovial face hardened a touch. “No, no, nothing like that. We just thought that, if you cooperated, we could clear up this whole misunderstanding right now.”
“Do I need to call my lawyer?”
“Well, now, that really is up to you. Let me give you a few to consider it.” Davis stood and jerked his chin at his partner, who pushed away from the wall and walked toward the door, his eyes on Rhodes the whole time.
Rhodes sat back in his seat. The detective had left everything there—the photos haphazardly spread out enough that it looked accidental, the necklace lying on the table in front of him.
The necklace.
His fingers twitched. He was so close. All he had to do was reach out and touch it. Time seemed to stop as the smell of coffee and the old, metallic scent of the station filled his nose, the distant sound of phones ringing and the whir of air conditioning in his ears. He memorized everything before breaking his gaze and pulling out his phone to play Candy Crush, as if none of it fazed him, though his mind and body hummed with such static, he was surprised his hair wasn’t standing on end.
But he would never let them know.
Josie watched Rhodes play on his phone with her face stone cold and her hands clasped behind her back. Hank stood next to her silently, and when Walker and Davis came in, they all stood there, watching Rhodes through the one-way glass.
“He’s about to lawyer up,” Davis said.
Hank nodded. “He’s not going to give anything up, and until we can find something to bring him in on, he’s going to walk free.” He turned to Josie. “I don’t have enough to go on to justify sending a patrol to Weehawken to watch him.”
Josie stared through the glass at Rhodes, who looked like he could have been waiting in line at the DMV instead of sitting in an interrogation room. She didn’t need to rely on the cops. She could watch him herself.
“Josephine,” her father said, the warning clear, “you listen to me right now. Look at me.”
She met his eyes.
“You have got to stay out of this. He knows we’re on to him. Without a partner, you are too exposed, too vulnerable. I need you to promise me you won’t follow him.”
“But, Dad—”
“Promise me.”
“He’s going to run.”
“I’ll send a patrol to drive by his place later, and Walker and Davis will go by in the morning to see if they can get into his house. That’s the best I can do, and I need you to swear to me you won’t get involved.”
She stood there in the cold room with her father’s eyes on her, not sure how she could agree to his request.
Rhodes hadn’t even flinched when Davis put the necklace on the table, but she had seen a flicker under the surface of his facade, a flash of anger. She hoped it drove him crazy to see it with the knowledge that he would never touch it again.
Everything in the room had been wiped in anticipation of his arrival in the hopes that he would touch something they could dust, but there would be nothing to find. He hadn’t touched a single thing—not the cup, not the table or chair. They’d eventually nail him, find a way to get a comparison print, and then it would be over. But if he even had an inkling that they had his print, he would run, and it would be over in an entirely different way.
Could she leave Rhodes alone and let her father handle it? Could she lie to him, make him a promise she wouldn’t keep?
She knew good and well that both answers were no.
“You have to send a patrol to tail him, Dad. He knows it’s only a matter of time, and he will run. I feel it. I know it. If you want me to stay away, you’ve got to send a patrol. It’s the only way I’ll agree.”
Hank looked back at Rhodes and ran a hand over his mouth, silently watching through the glass for a long minute before he spoke again. “Do you realize the hell I’m going to get for putting my resources into this with just an anonymous tip to go off of?”
“But you know he did it.”
He sighed. “I do.”
“Then none of this will matter because we’ll catch him.”
Dita’s fingers rested on her lips as she watched Rhodes walk out of the police station with his lawyer.
“He’s going to run,” she said to no one in particular.
Perry sat in the seat next to her with her mouth open, and Heff leaned forward in an armchair with his elbows on his knees. Apollo’s head shook slowly
from the other armchair, and all four of them were silent for a long moment.
Perry spoke up, and her voice was low. “After all this time, for Josie to find the necklace…this can’t be a coincidence.”
Dita turned to her, shocked. “You don’t think Artemis did this, do you?”
“Who else?”
“Why? Why would she do it?”
“I think I know.” Apollo ran a hand through his hair. “The last time I saw her, she said something about getting Josie away from Jon. If Rhodes runs…”
“Josie will chase him. Fuck.” Dita’s mind spun, flustered and out of control, her voice frantic and climbing. “What the fuck? My only shot is for Jon to help her, but how the shit am I supposed to get her to agree to that? I’m not convinced she would put him out if he was on fire.” She looked around the room and threw a hand in the air. “Why would Artemis put them in danger like this? She is so careless with them. Does she even care?”
“She cares, but she doesn’t understand what she’s doing. She’s looking at a postage stamp while we can see the panorama,” Apollo answered.
Dita stood up, livid as she wove around the chairs and coffee table and made for the elevator.
Perry looked mildly distressed. “Dita, you are not allowed to go down there.”
She didn’t stop walking. “Why the fuck not? I have words for her.”
“Hang on,” Apollo called.
Dita stopped in the foyer, furious and ready to fight. “Why?”
Apollo stood and walked over to her, his blue eyes comforting. “Just…look, just ride it out. Maybe Josie won’t leave, or maybe something will happen that you can work to your advantage. What good will confronting Artemis do?”
“It would make me feel a whole lot better to kick her in the teeth.” She pictured herself roundhousing Artemis in the face, and it really did bring a little comfort.
He chuckled. “I’m sure, but it still won’t solve anything.”
“He’s right, Dita.” Heff turned to face her. “You can’t undo any of it, so you’re gonna have to find a way to roll with it. For now at least. Maybe Rhodes will stay in town. We have no idea what’s going to happen.”
“But that’s not the point.” Dita put one hand on her hip, gesturing dramatically with the other one as she ranted. “She is knowingly putting both players in danger when we’re supposed to keep them safe. I’d expect this from Ares, but Artemis?” She shook her head. “I didn’t agree to this.”
Apollo slipped his hands in his pockets. “She doesn’t see it like the rest of us. She thinks Josie’s got everything under control, that Josie’s as invincible as she is. Just give it a little bit of time. Is there an expiration date on bitching her out?”
“No, my rage will keep.” Dita sucked in a breath through her nose. “I’m so, so mad. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t slept in eleventy billion years, but I’m pretty sure I would fuck her up in a serious way right now.”
She wondered if she could somehow turn Artemis’s move around and found consolation in the potential. The look on Artemis’s face when Dita played her would be even better than the sight of her bloody grill.
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll leave her alone. For now.”
Everyone relaxed a hair, but Dita was so wound up, she couldn’t stand it. It was like every molecule in her body was trying to fight its way out.
“I think I need to punch something.”
Heff stood with a smirk. “It would probably make you feel better.”
He made his way around the furniture and into the foyer, stopping in front of her. For some reason, she sometimes forgot how tall he was, and when he flexed his torso, her eyes followed the lines and shadows his forearms and biceps made. She could see his pecs under his T-shirt and chased a fleeting thought about pulling up the hem to get a good look at his abs.
When she realized her mouth was slightly agape, she closed it and pursed her lips.
“Go ahead. Take your best shot,” he said.
“You sure? I mean, I don’t want to hurt you,” she joked.
He laughed, his teeth flashing white and bright against his dark beard. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“You asked for it.” She felt her face screw up as she wound up and nailed him in the stomach, which was rock solid.
He didn’t even flinch.
She smiled as she shook out her fingers. “My hand hurts, but I feel better.”
“This is why men fight when they’re mad. Go on, knock yourself out. You’re not gonna hurt me.”
Dita took a deep breath, feeling her anger wind around every muscle in her body, and she let it go, let it all out like steam off boiling water. She pictured Ares as she threw all of her weight behind her fist, wishing she could hurt Ares in the ways he’d hurt her—with betrayal and her bare hands. She thought about Adonis, and her grief and guilt washed over her in a wave. She’d killed him with her choices, by her words.
She didn’t realize that she wasn’t as mad at Artemis as she’d thought, not until tears blurred her vision and wet her cheeks, not until her fists no longer flew but clutched Heff’s shirt as she lay in his arms on the floor.
Ares hung an arm on the back of his couch, looking in on Rhodes, who moved through his house with intention as he packed a large duffel bag. He trotted down the stairs of his basement and to his crawl space where he retrieved his jewelry box. Then, he knelt down to lay it inside his bag. Everything he owned was secondary to that box.
Rhodes was implementing his contingency plan and would be long gone before anyone came looking for him. Ares didn’t know what was going on in the game, but he suspected that someone had interfered. He wondered briefly how it would all end, if there would be blood. It could end that way if Josie chased him.
Rhodes wouldn’t go quietly.
Ares didn’t know how the game would be affected, but Dita would adapt. She always did.
He pictured her face as he’d seen her last, saw the dark circles under her wild, fearful eyes and her lip pulled back, baring her teeth. He hadn’t even known what he wanted to say to her. That he was sorry he’d hurt her. That he loved her and wanted her. Wanted her to forgive him. To let him fix it. To prove it. But he wasn’t sure she would believe him, and he didn’t blame her.
He didn’t even know if it was true.
All he knew was that he wanted her. He’d tell her anything she wanted to hear if it brought her back. They belonged together, and they would be together again. It wasn’t a matter of if, only when.
She needed time and space, but he would find a way to edge back into her life as he always did. He would have to work harder than ever to get her back, but once they got through it, there would be nothing left to stand in his way.
Ares thought about how to classify his feelings. He couldn’t call it guilt. He was mad, that was certain, but more over the fact that everything had fallen apart. He felt no remorse for killing Adonis. In fact, the memory still brought him satisfaction. And he didn’t feel bad for lying because it had been his only shot at ridding himself of the human.. But if she hadn’t found out, he would have her still, and that fact made his blood boil.
Rhodes was in his office, flipping through his file cabinet in his desk. He pulled out an unlabeled folder, laid it open on his desk, and thumbed through the contents—a birth certificate, license, a new Social Security card. He’d gotten them just after he killed Anne, knowing he would need a plan. He’d also purchased an ’80s model Civic with cash from a junkyard, a car that sat in his garage, gassed and ready to take him away. He had enough cash to get him to Seattle where the dead man whose identity he’d stolen was from.
Rhodes glanced out his office window and watched the patrol car a few houses down in the alley, wondering how he would get away. He could watch them, wait. He could be patient. The opportunity would—
The patrol car started up, and he stared in shock as it rolled away. He didn’t question them leaving or consider why he smelled spring grass and sunshine
and pine, just picked up his papers, packed them in his bag, and zipped it up with finality before he stood and left his home with no fanfare for the last time.
Ares smiled. It had been Artemis, and he mourned not being able to tell Dita what he knew. It would be the perfect, noble way to find his way back to her favor, but it was impossible. He couldn’t get anywhere near her.
As soon as he got the chance, he would try to talk to her again without pushing so hard. He’d need to grovel and beg if he was going to make it convincing—two behaviors that he wasn’t familiar with. But if she got mad, yelled…he couldn’t guarantee that his emotions would stay in check.
She was a burning match, and he was gasoline, and when one touched the other, everything would be devoured until all that was left was ash.
Artemis traced her lips with her fingers as she watched from her tent, elbows resting on the polished table—a slice of a massive tree with hundreds of rings.
Josie was still at the station, and Rhodes was driving west through rural New Jersey. Artemis wasn’t entirely sure she had done the right thing. But the necklace had been her only play, her only chance, and if Josie could get a lead on him, she would catch him and either bring him in or kill him.
Either way, Josie would find closure, and Artemis would win alongside her.
Her tent flap opened, and Eleni walked through with a tray of venison, grapes, and wine, her lips flat and her gray wings folded tight behind her.
“Your supper, mistress,” she said stiffly as she set the tray on the table with a clatter.
Artemis glanced at her with narrow eyes. “Have you something to say?”
“No, no.” Her tone was snide and dismissive. “Nothing you wish to hear.”
“Please, I wouldn’t want you to injure yourself, trying to contain it,” Artemis volleyed, infuriated and combative.
Eleni’s cheeks flushed. “Do not tempt me to speak, Artemis. I gave you my allegiance, promised to follow you, even when you are being irresponsible.”
“Have you no faith in me?”
“When it comes to humans? I have much less faith in you than is appropriate for my station.”
