In the Line of Duty

by Carolyn Arnold

She tilted the driver’s seat back, put her arms under her head, and closed her eyes. Thoughts about what she’d say to her sister in the morning were overpowered by pure exhaustion. The tears had dried up and left her feeling empty.

  A knock on the driver’s-side window had her bolting upright. Her heart was thumping so hard her ribs were taking a beating.

  What the—

  It was Chelsea standing next to the car in pajamas.

  Madison turned the key in the ignition and lowered the window.

  Chelsea cocked her head to the side. “You’re not even going to get out of your car?”

  Her sister wasn’t like other people. Other people would have asked her what she was doing there first.

  “Yeah…uh, sure.” She put the window up and turned the car off. The grogginess in her head and the stiffness in her neck and back told her she must have drifted off for a while. The clock on the dash confirmed that she’d been out for a couple of hours.

  Madison unlocked the door and Chelsea had it open before Madison found the handle.

  Whoa. A bad hangover had nothing over the way she was feeling right now. Her head was spinning. It had to be from sitting up so quickly, or maybe she’d pinched a nerve in her neck from the way she’d been resting.

  Chelsea reached for her and drew Madison into an embrace. She kissed Madison’s cheek. “Come on inside.”

  Madison waved a hand. “It’s all right. I’ll go.” She glanced at the house, which was no longer in complete darkness as the front porch light was on. So was the one inside the entry.

  “Nonsense. Get inside.” Chelsea reached around Madison and pushed the car door shut. Her sister was as hardheaded as she was.

  “I didn’t want to wake you up,” Madison said.

  “Well, it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?”

  “I guess it is.” Madison took a few steps with her sister, Chelsea’s arm around her. “Oh, wait.” She hurried back to the car for her keys and locked it by using the button on the door so as not to inadvertently double-click on her key fob and cause the horn to honk.

  “You can sleep in the spare room. It’s not made up, but there are sheets and a comforter in the closet.” Chelsea entered her house first and held the door for Madison. Once Madison was inside, she locked the dead bolt.

  “It’s okay. I should go, Chels.”

  “Seriously?” It was phrased with the arch of a question but wasn’t really intended as one. It came out more like a chastisement than anything, probably for getting her out of bed. Her sister was a stay-at-home mom, and that would be Chelsea’s only saving grace come six AM. Although she’d still have to cart the girls off to school before eight.

  “I don’t need to sleep. I’ll be fine.” Guilt for waking her sister was snaking through Madison. “Jim still—”

  Chelsea was nodding. “He’d sleep through a hurricane.”

  “How did you know I was in the driveway?”

  “I saw you pull in around one. The lights shone into the bedroom.”

  “Sorry.” Madison cringed and wondered why her sister hadn’t come out then if she’d woken up.

  “I wanted to let you be for a while. I figured if you wanted to come in, you would,” Chelsea explained herself as if she read Madison’s mind. “I drifted off but woke up realizing I’d have to go get you.”

  “What were you doing up at one?”

  “I’m a light sleeper, you know that. It stinks, but it is what it is. I’m surprised you can sleep at all given what you see every day.”

  Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come here. Had all their mother’s incessant yapping about her career choice finally affected Chelsea? Madison wasn’t sure exactly where Chelsea was headed with her comment, but it was probably best to leave that one untouched.

  Madison slipped out of her shoes and headed up the stairs in the direction of the spare room. Her body was so exhausted that each step was a struggle. She’d made it up about five of the stairs when her sister spoke.

  “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me why you’re here in the middle of the night?”

  Madison turned around and found Chelsea still at the base of the staircase. God, she didn’t want to tell her all about Troy and her broken heart and her empty apartment…her empty life.

  “Tea?” her sister offered, seemingly picking up on how lost Madison was feeling.

  “Fine.” Madison headed back down to the main level, but there would be no need to bring up her failed romance. Comparing herself to her sister, knowing she had a husband who loved her and three beautiful daughters sleeping above them, just drove in what a disaster Madison was when it came to her personal life. “Decaf,” she added as she trailed behind Chelsea. With any luck, they’d talk for a short time and Madison would still get some shut-eye.

  Minutes later, the water had boiled and the tea had steeped. Madison sat across from her sister at the kitchen table, cradling her mug, drawing its warmth to her and hoping it would comfort her and lift her spirits. She took small sips, careful to blow on the hot liquid first.

  “Tell me about the cop who was shot.” She was staring in Madison’s eyes.

  “His death is still hard to talk about. Talking about him—” She swallowed roughly, the ache in her chest cinching her heart.

  Chelsea nodded. “Of course, it would be. Sorry.” She took a drink of her tea, lowered her mug, and sat back in her chair. “Mom called today. She’d heard about the shooting and wanted to know how you were.”

  Hearing this was like another stab to her heart. The woman had found time to call Chelsea but not her? She swallowed the emotion that welled up in her throat, refusing to give in to the urge to cry.

  “If she wanted to know that, then she should have called me.” The words rushed out of her, propelled by complex emotions hinged on anger and seeded in betrayal. Chelsea was the golden child; it was amazing Madison and Chelsea even got along given the wedge their mother could have easily put between them.

  Chelsea glanced away. Madison knew she hated to be put in the middle, but their mother tended to do that to her all the time. Chelsea looked at Madison when she said, “I really wish you two would work things out.”

  “That’s not happening anytime soon.” Madison felt her defenses hardening, the shell becoming fortified to protect her heart. She’d had enough of being vulnerable. She’d been a fool to think it was a positive thing on any level.

  “I told her you were doing fine. That’s what you told me when we spoke.”

  “And let me guess, she got into how much better off I’d be if I just quit being a cop.”

  Chelsea was shaking her head. “Nope, not this time.”

  Madison studied her sister. “Really?”

  “She was really worried about you, how you were taking it.”

  Madison lifted her chin. “Like I said, she could have called—”

  “Yeah? You would have taken her call? I doubt it. Besides, when you’re on a case, you shut everything and everyone out.” Her sister’s words were spoken with caution, presented in a delicate and loving tone, but they struck Madison like a spear nonetheless.

  “I answered your call,” she said in her defense, but her own doubt crept in. Had she been so focused on solving Barry’s murder that she hadn’t really made time for Troy and what he was going through? Was that why they were on a break? She pushed the doubts away. No, she’d tried to open him up, to get him to talk, and he’d refused.

  “Why are you here, Maddy? Why aren’t you with Troy?”

  A tear escaped, and she wanted to retreat, run away, do whatever would take her out from under her sister’s watchful—yet caring—eye.

  Chelsea got up for a tissue box and brought it back to the table. Instead of sitting where she had been before, she pulled out the chair beside Madison and sat down.

  “He’s tak
ing all this…” The tears came on full force then, and Madison couldn’t stop them. Grieving and being vulnerable absolutely sucked.

  Her sister rubbed her back, but Madison pulled away. Chelsea’s eyes showed hurt at the rejection, and Madison met her sister’s gaze. Chelsea’s expression softened as if she’d truly picked up on the extent of Madison’s pain.

  Madison took a few deep breaths. “He was really close to Barry. I guess their friendship goes back to childhood. Not that he told me that for himself.” Madison pulled out a tissue and dabbed her nose. Chelsea didn’t say anything. Apparently using silence was a family trick to getting people to open up. “I tried to let him know that I was here for him. You know, I really thought…” Was she actually going to bare all her feelings? She sighed. “I thought what we had was something special.”

  “I see the way he looks at you. He loves you. It’s just grief—”

  Madison held a hand up to her sister. “Please don’t.”

  “What?”

  “Please don’t justify his behavior. Anyway, we’re taking a break… What that means to him, I don’t know, but I’m done. Maybe I’ll become a lesbian.”

  Chelsea chuckled. “Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.”

  Madison pressed her lips. “I never did give it a shot.”

  “I think you need to do what feels right to you. What’s your heart saying?”

  “About if I should become a lesbian?” Madison retorted quickly.

  Chelsea angled her head. “Be serious.”

  Her sister wasn’t going to let her leave without really opening up. “I care about him…a lot.”

  Her sister was staring her down now.

  “Fine, I love him. Are you happy?”

  “All right, then.” Chelsea sat back, still facing Madison. “Can I speak openly?”

  “When haven’t you?”

  Chelsea bobbed her head from side to side. “You have a tendency to give up on people too quickly. You don’t really give them a chance.”

  Madison felt herself bristle, and she shook her head. “No, I’ve changed.”

  “You were hurt by that loser—”

  That loser was her sister’s nickname for Toby Sovereign. Not exactly original, but it was fitting.

  “—and you’ve let it stop you from giving your heart to someone else,” Chelsea said. “But real living is from here—” she balled her hand into a fist and placed it on her chest over her heart “—and involves giving this away without thinking about the consequences and just trusting that it all will work out the way it should.”

  Thinking back on the last time she did that… “Huh. So Toby was meant to screw around on me?”

  “Stop looking at it as so black-and-white. Okay, look at me and Jim. We’ve been married, what? Ten years? But every second hasn’t been easy.”

  “Really? You guys are sickening to watch together.”

  “Thanks.” Chelsea smiled. “Because if sickening means it’s obvious we’re in love, then I’ll take it. But my point is, sometimes we have to fight for what we want.”

  “I tried, sis, but it’s over.”

  “If it was, you wouldn’t be over here in the wee hours crying in your tea.”

  Madison rolled her eyes, but her sister had a point. It was far from over, but eventually it would be. She’d work through the disappointment and maybe not discount the lesbian thing entirely.

  “The problem is, Maddy, that so many people are concerned about being right that they lose out because of it. But relationships are give and take. What’s more important to you? Being right or making it work with Troy? If it is being right, sure, write him off and move on. But if you love him and want to be with him, being right isn’t what’s important.”

  Madison let out a small huff. “I’m just supposed to be okay with him shutting me out?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying at all. But at the end of the day, a relationship that’s founded on tallying scores won’t last. That’s just my piece of advice.” Her sister reached across the table for her tea and took a sip of it.

  Madison’s had cooled in her hands, but she didn’t much feel like drinking it anyway. Maybe her baby sister had a point. Maybe she could try to find more empathy within herself for what Troy was going through. Still, when she thought about going to him, her ego took the hit.

  What’s more important to me? Being right or making it work with Troy?

  Her heart was screaming out the answer, voting for the latter.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t handle this right now. Maybe after some sleep, she’d be able to think about it, but right now she just…couldn’t.

  -

  Chapter 25

  MADISON HAD LEFT CHELSEA’S AT seven and slipped home for a quick shower and change of clothes before hitting Starbucks for a venti caramel cappuccino on the way into the station. She’d need the caffeine to get through the day. She’d just sat down at her desk and Terry was walking toward her. While she’d planned on starting the request for all the family information on Sommer, Godfrey, Cousins, and Snyder, she’d fill her partner in on her visit to Snyder and what else she’d gleaned first.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He was holding a Starbucks cup, too, and lifted it in greeting.

  “I saw Snyder last night and got more out of her,” she told him.

  “Do tell.”

  She shared what she’d found out about Sommer, his history with Snyder, the alleged assault she’d witnessed, and her own suspicions that Snyder and Sommer were still involved, as well as Snyder’s release from the safe house and how she was now being watched from her home.

  “And nothing came back on the address she gave you?”

  “Where the beating took place?” Madison shook her head. “No.”

  “I don’t know about this girl. First, she flees the scene of the shooting and only speaks once she’s cornered. Second, she offers information in bite-size pieces that we pretty much have to force out of her. She should have laid out everything when we first spoke with her. But she didn’t. It’s hinky.”

  “Hinky.” Madison fought a smile. Her partner always had a way with words—if one could call it that. “But we can’t prove anything yet. I’m going to request a comprehensive background report on all three roommates and Snyder, see if any relatives own a BMW 3 series sedan.”

  “Good idea.”

  “But the sergeant seems pretty certain a higher profile gang is involved.” She told him about the parabolic mics. Then she looked at the clock. 8:20. Their morning briefing was at 8:30.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get going.”

  MADISON STARTED OFF ON A mission to get into the squad room as quickly as she could but found that the closer she got, the more her legs wanted to stop moving. Troy would be there, and it would be the first time they’d have seen each other since they decided to take a break.

  Her heart was beating slowly, but her breathing was labored—that old familiar feeling of heartbreak, one she should be used to by now. She came to a standstill outside the door, and Terry went past her.

  “What are you doing?”

  She looked in his eyes, and there was no way she’d be getting into her fractured love life now—or ever. So she resorted to a lie. “It feels like I have a stone in my shoe.” She pulled up one leg, reached for her shoe, and Terry left her. With him out of sight, she lowered her leg. So now she was lying to her partner to protect her feelings? How low could she sink?

  Her sister’s words washed over her, or at least the part about living from the heart without thought to consequence. Could vulnerability really be a key ingredient to a truly magical life?

  Somehow she wasn’t drawing the correlation. But who was she to know? Chelsea could at least talk from the perspective of someone in a secure, lasting, loving relationship.

&
nbsp; “Hey, Maddy.”

  Her breath caught at the deep voice. Troy was coming up from behind her.

  She took a deep breath and steadied herself to turn around and look at him. His eyes that were usually such a striking green were stormy and dark, and the whites were bloodshot. Being right or making amends—which was more important to her?

  Play it cool…

  But she didn’t know what to say.

  “Guess we’re going to find out if the gangs unit picked up on anything,” he said.

  She nodded like one of those stupid bobblehead dolls and felt as if she had just about as much air in her head right now.

  He was peering into her eyes as if he wanted to say something else to her but wasn’t certain if he should.

  Maybe he would rather be right, and if so, she had to protect herself somehow. “I can come by and pick up my—”

  Troy was shaking his head. “We’ll sort it out later.” She didn’t know what to make of his tone. Was he holding out the hope of reconciliation or was he resigned to accepting that their relationship was over? Whichever it was, it wasn’t the time to get into that here.

  She gave him another look before stepping into the room.

  Winston was at the front with Andrea. Both of them glanced at her and Troy as they entered. Madison felt the chief’s continued gaze on her but wasn’t going to acknowledge it right now. She spotted Terry and headed over to him.

  “We have at least two solid leads at this time,” Winston began. He recapped what Madison and Terry had learned about the decal. “They call themselves the Devil’s Rebels, but before now, none of us were familiar with the name. There’s reason to suspect they are—or at least were—involved with criminal activity, but Detectives Knight and Grant are still investigating to see if they can find any connection with the shooting of Officer Weir. But what we do know is that a member of the Hellions has started bragging about his involvement with the shooting. This fact was confirmed last night.”

  A hush fell over the room but no one interjected, and Winston continued. “As many of you know, officers from Gangs conducted surveillance on several gangs in the city last night, hoping to overhear or see something that might help us. Well, at the Hellions’ hideout last night, they struck gold. A man named Russell Coleman—” Winston pointed to a colored photo on the whiteboard behind him of a man in his early twenties, Caucasian, with dark, scruffy facial hair and a small, almost beak-like nose. “He was boasting to his fellow Hellions that he and another friend took out ‘the cop.’ Why don’t you fill us in?” He gestured to a detective with Gangs.