by James Hunt
Hart shook his head. “I can’t imagine what you went through. To see your family like that, it’s just—” He tightened his grip on the wheel. “All I know is if it happened to me, I wouldn’t be able to keep it together. If I saw my brother, or my wife, like you did?” He scoffed. “It’d only be a matter of time before I ended up behind bars myself.” He slowed at the signal of a red light, and as they came to a stop, he looked over. “But you’re better than that. You’re smarter than that. You know that the only way to catch this guy is to stay on the right side of the law.”
Cooper picked at the badge hanging from her neck. “I don’t know what the right side is anymore.”
A car honked behind them, and Hart returned his attention to the intersection, where the light was green. The rest of the trip to the precinct was in silence. When they arrived, the media circus was still in full flow, and they waded through a sea of cameras and microphones on their way inside. Cooper kept her head down, while Hart held up his hands, blocking the reporters from continuing their harassment. “We have no comment on the investigation at this time. And we ask that you respect the privacy of both Detective Cooper and her family during this difficult time. FBI Special Agent Hemsworth will be making a statement later today regarding the investigation. Thank you.”
Once they were behind closed doors, the roar of questions lessened to a dull moan. Cooper kept the tunnel vision all the way to Hemsworth’s makeshift command center near Captain Farnes’s office. If there were any sympathetic gestures offered by her peers, she didn’t see them. They’d never accepted her before, and her sister’s death wasn’t going to change their minds. Without knocking, Cooper burst into Hemsworth’s office, interrupting the agent in mid-presentation.
“Detective Cooper,” Hemsworth said, every head in the room turning at the announcement. “I didn’t realize you were on duty today. I was told you had your sister’s funeral.”
Cooper glanced at the projection on the wall. It was a map of Baltimore that had six or seven different locations highlighted. “What is this?” She recognized the sections of the city, most of them in the impoverished and low-income areas. One spot in particular was close to her old neighborhood. “Are these—” But when Cooper turned around, both Hemsworth and Hart were at the door, keeping it open.
“Can I speak with you for a moment, Detective?” Hemsworth asked. “Privately?”
The rest of the room remained seated and shifted in their chairs uncomfortably, none of them looking her in the face. When Cooper walked out the door and into the hallway, Farnes was there, and before either Hemsworth or the captain had a chance to speak, Cooper jumped on the offensive. “You’re not taking me off this case.”
Hemsworth held up his hand defensively. “Detective Cooper, you need to be with your family right now. There is paid leave for this type of event, and it’s something that you need to take advantage of.” But while Hemsworth glowered concern, Farnes remained stoic. “I’ve spoken with both Captain Farnes and Police Chief Alcorn, and everyone is in agreement that it’s best if you take the time off work.”
“I was there, Hemsworth.” Cooper kept her voice at a harsh whisper. “Everyone here knows this was a personal vendetta the killer has against me. He targeted me, and there’s no reason for him not to do it again. I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while that psychopath is out there getting away with cold-blooded murder.”
“This is still a federal case,” Hemsworth replied, his tone hardening. “And the FBI has jurisdiction.”
“Then I’ll do this without a badge,” Cooper replied, her face reddening. “I will not sit here with my thumb up my ass while that fucking bastard is still breathing!”
“Then you’ll be arrested,” Farnes said, his voice as calm as the serene look on his face. “Your grief doesn’t give you the authority to work outside the laws of the land.”
Cooper knew how much Farnes had been looking forward to this. He’d been against her from the beginning, in every single case she worked. Ever since the IA with her partner that would have linked him to the same corruption along with his brother, the former governor. Now the ball was in his court. Now he held her fate in his hands, and he was more than willing to end her career just when she’d lost everything else. She only had one card to play now.
“The killer wants me.” She turned to Hemsworth. “You need me.” Cooper watched Hemsworth weigh the options as Farnes spit off every reason she’d already thought of to keep her off the case. She can’t be trusted. She has too much personal emotion invested. She’s a liability. She’s grieving. It’s against protocol.
“Enough.” Hemsworth cut through Farnes’s excuses, and the fat on the captain’s neck turned red from embarrassment. “I’d like to speak with the detective alone for a moment, Captain.”
The loose skin on Farnes’s body wiggled in defiance, but he finally submitted. “I’ll be in my office when you’re done.” He slammed the door shut forcefully, leaving Hemsworth and Cooper in the hallway.
“Detective, I know what you want.” Hemsworth’s voice took on a more fatherly touch. “It’s the same thing I want. It’s what everyone wants. But you have to know by now that I can’t use you. It goes against every protocol I have.”
“I don’t give a shit about your protocol. I don’t give a shit about how you think I feel, and I certainly don’t give a shit about what happens to me after all of this.” Cooper stepped forward, inching as close as she could to Hemsworth without actually touching him. “You have no idea of what I want!”
Cooper panted heavily, and her face had flushed red. To Hemsworth she must have looked like a wild animal, but to her surprise, the veteran agent didn’t raise his voice or make any threats. He simply took a breath and stepped backward. “If you interfere with this investigation, it won’t be Captain Farnes you have to worry about. It will be the full force and authority of the United States government.” He reached for the door handle to return to his meeting but paused before he entered. “Don’t make this difficult on yourself, Detective. Mourn your sister. Let yourself feel it. This isn’t just another homicide case. This is your life.” He shut the door and left Cooper alone in the hallway.
Feel it? She’d always felt it. Every bloodied body she came across, every tear-soaked mother, father, sister, friend, brother, lover, husband, wife that she had to interview, she felt their pain. There was no compartment in her brain where she stored those files, no secret box for them to be hidden in and forgotten. She processed everything, and she let that pain and fear and hurt and anger sharpen her skills. But by the time she found this killer, she wasn’t sure what would be left for her to feel.
Cooper returned to the office, and Hart was already inside. He was at the suspect wall, peeling the pictures off. “What the hell are you doing?”
“We’re both off the case, Cooper.” Hart stacked the pictures in a box along with the tagged evidence. “You heard Hemsworth. They’re taking it from here on out.”
Cooper yanked the box from Hart’s grip and clutched it protectively. “You fucking knew about this? And you’re letting it happen?”
Hart threw up his hands, exasperated. “Cooper, I told you they weren’t going to let you continue this! For Christ’s sake, you just buried your sister!” Frustration took hold, and he paced the office in circles. “I know you think the last thing you need is to step away from this, but it’s the truth! You’re going to end up killing yourself or someone else!” He took a breath, shaking his head and taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Fuck you.” The words spit from Cooper’s mouth before she had a chance to stop them. “What if this was your wife? Your pregnant wife. You don’t think I’d have your back on that? You don’t think I’d do whatever I could to help? Or have all the rumors about the devil detective finally eaten through that thick skull of yours?”
“You don’t get to say that, Cooper!” Hart shouted, thrusting his finger in her face. “I’ve never held that against you, I’
ve never brought what happened between you and your old partner up without you talking about it first, not once.” He loosened his tie, muttering under his breath. “I’ve already told you I don’t know what this is like, but you’re right. If it was my wife and my unborn child that were killed, I’d lose my fucking mind. But you know what else I know?” He inched closer, his face aged beyond his young years. “I know you’d do everything you could to stop me. Because you know what happens when you get to the end of the road you want to go down. And partners don’t let that happen.”
“We were never partners, Hart.” Cooper shook her head. “You were just the rookie I had to babysit until your training wheels came off.” The guilt and rage that funneled through her veins at the sight of Hart’s reaction would have normally triggered her to apologize, but she didn’t. Deep down she knew that both Hemsworth and Hart were right. She was too close. She was too wrapped up with vengeance instead of justice. But her sister was in the ground. And she didn’t give a shit anymore. “So why don’t you crawl back to the captain and tell him whatever the fuck you need to in order to save your own skin.”
“Fuck you, Cooper.” Hart flipped her off then slammed the door shut on his way out.
The rush of wind that accompanied Hart’s exit stung her cheeks. Most of the strength and rage evaporated in the quiet of the office, and she set the box of evidence down and collapsed in her chair. The constant pounding in her head that had plagued her all morning returned in full force, crippling any train of thought she tried to string together. She reached for the bottom drawer of her desk and sifted through the old candy bar wrappers and chip bags until she felt the rounded neck of the whiskey bottle she kept hidden inside. She unscrewed the top and tilted the bottle up and let the liquor slow the roaring train speeding through the tunnels of her memories, trying to force her to confront her childhood and a past she desperately wanted to forget.
Eventually the liquor did its job, and Cooper felt the stoic calm numb her nerves and relax her muscles. If she was going to do this, then she’d have to act quickly. She screwed the cap onto the bottle then tossed it into the box of evidence, along with anything else she’d collected working on the case. She scooped the box into her arms and headed down the hall. She passed a television on her way out, and the anchor’s voice caught her attention.
“The manhunt for the Baltimore Scribe continues. His latest victim? Beth Hamilton. She was a Baltimore native who moved out to California ten years ago, and a mother of two. She was also the sister of Baltimore Police Detective Adila Cooper, who was in the news a few years ago after she exposed her partner, who was involved in a money-laundering scandal. Detective Cooper testified against her partner, as well as current Central Precinct Captain Jonathan Farnes and his brother, Quentin Farnes, who was governor of Maryland at the time. Those charges of conspiracy against the Farnes brothers were eventually dropped by Maryland’s DA, but the fact that it was Quentin Farnes who appointed the DA led many to question the validity of his innocence. Channel Four News reporter Janet Kimmings has more.”
“Thanks, Mary,” Kimmings said.
The thumb drive. The reporter had given it to her, mentioning that it had something to do with Farnes. And if it had dirt on the captain, it could give her the leverage she needed to keep her on the case to find the killer.
Chapter 3
Cooper skidded into the parking space, ignoring the painted lines and letting her car straddle them. She hurried up the steps to her apartment building, juggling the box of evidence and her keys. She fiddled with the lock and shoved the door open, bounding up the staircase. When she reached her apartment floor, she nearly lost hold of the box. “Sarah?”
Her niece was at her apartment door, the landlord by her side. Sarah kept her head down while the landlord stepped forward. “You know this child, Ms. Cooper?” he asked, pointing back to her niece.
Without a word Cooper sprinted to Sarah and scooped her off the floor. Heavy sobs soaked her shoulder, and when she looked back over to the landlord, he had already left. Panic gripped Cooper’s heart like an icy glove. “What’s wrong? Did something happen to your dad? Where’s your sister?”
“No, nothing happened.” Sarah sniffled. “I just wanted to see you again. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to go home without Mom.” She cried and buried her face in Cooper’s shoulder once more.
“It’s okay.” Cooper gently patted the back of Sarah’s head and rocked her back and forth. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.”
Sarah found a seat on the couch, and Cooper dropped the box of evidence on the kitchen table. Cooper opened the fridge but quickly closed it once she remembered that there was nothing but spoiled takeout inside. “Does your dad know you’re here?” She grabbed a cup and filled it with tap water. “Sarah?” But when she stepped out into the living room, her niece had her mouth open, gawking at the wall where the killer had written his message.
Sarah lifted her finger, her eyes rereading the words Cooper had stared at for hours. “W-what is that?”
Cooper set the glass down and blocked the image from Sarah’s view. “Nothing.” She clutched her niece’s face in both hands, trying to smile.
“The man that killed my mother wrote that, didn’t he?” Tears rolled down Sarah’s cheeks as she tried to look past Cooper. “Why did he do that? Why did he kill her?!” She broke down, the hysterics of the moment overtaking whatever reason the twelve-year-old possessed as she hyperventilated into Cooper’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, Sarah.” Cooper searched for the answers that she’d struggled to find, trying to offer comfort, but even now she couldn’t make sense of any of it. “I don’t know why he killed your mom. I don’t know why he took you and your sister and your dad.”
“Is it my fault?” Sarah asked through a series of choking sobs. “Is it my fault she’s gone? Did I do something to make her leave because of the fight we had last week?”
The frustration from the funeral, the anger Cooper felt toward the killer, the betrayal from the police department, all of it faded from her mind. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.” Strength returned to her hands as gripped Sarah’s shoulders. “What happened to your mom had nothing to do with you, okay? Absolutely nothing. So you get that out of your head right now, young lady. Understand?”
Still crying, Sarah nodded. She wiped the tears from her eyes and hugged Cooper tightly, the hysterics slowly fading. After a few minutes, Cooper led Sarah into the bedroom, where she passed out. Cooper called Tim. The conversation was short, neither party willing to apologize, and he said he’d be there soon.
While Cooper waited for Tim to arrive, she stood in the doorway to her bedroom and watched her niece sleep. She’d never seen anything look so peaceful as the slow rise and fall of Sarah’s chest. It’d been a long time since anyone had received any rest on that bed.
The knock at the door signaled Tim’s arrival, and he burst inside the moment it opened. “Where is she?” he asked, jogging into the living room.
But Cooper intercepted him before he maneuvered into the kitchen, shushing him, and pointed to the bedroom. He walked slowly, and she watched his entire body deflate in relief at the sight of his daughter. He leaned against the door frame for support and kept his voice low. “When I couldn’t find her at the hotel, I thought…” He shook his head, his back still to Cooper, then he finally turned around. “I can’t go through that again.” The color had drained from his face, and he collapsed into a kitchen chair.
Cooper hesitated but eventually joined him at the table. “She thought this was her fault.” Tim whipped his head around quickly, but Cooper raised her hand. “I told her it wasn’t. But she’s going to need to talk to somebody about what happened, Mary as well. Even you.”
“I’m fine.” Tim waved it off and rubbed his forehead.
“No, you’re not.” The detective instinct kicked in out of habit, and she leaned forward. “What you three went through was traumatic. You need to work
through it, and it’s going to take time. And in these cases, it usually takes the adult longer than the child.” She gestured to Sarah. “Though with her hitting puberty soon, I don’t know if that’ll be the case.”
“They grow up too fast.” Tim traced a doodle on the table with his finger, glancing between the make-believe drawing and his daughter. “She had a boy ask her out a few weeks ago, and she asked me if it was okay.” He knocked on the table’s surface a few times with his fist, shaking his head. “I can’t do this without Beth.” And with just the mention of her name, tears cascaded down his cheeks, though nothing but muffled sniffles and quick breaths escaped his lips.
Cooper watched him, and a part of her felt sick for being glad at seeing him in so much pain. She’d never forgiven him for beating on Beth ten years ago in a drunken rage, though he’d tried time and time again to explain that it had never happened before, and it hadn’t happened since. Despite how much she hated him, he still had control over her nieces’ lives, and if she couldn’t learn to digest him now, it was never going to happen. “If you ever need help.” She paused. “I’m just a phone call away.”
Tim wiped the tears from his face. “I know the girls would like to see more of you.”
Cooper glanced at Sarah on the bed, lying there so quiet. Cooper couldn’t help but think of Beth when she had been that age. Mother and daughter slept the same way. “I’d like to see more of them too.”
Tim scooped the still-sleeping Sarah off the bed and carried her down to the car. She woke for half a second, and Cooper kissed her on the cheek and gave Mary a hug, who had remained with the FBI agents escorting them to the hospital. The FBI still had them under witness protection and would take them back to San Francisco, where they would have a unit with them until the killer was caught. For that much, she was glad Hemsworth was involved.
