by SJ Bishop
Treena steeled the glint in her eyes and rounded her shoulders back. "Having more experience doesn't make you smarter, only more arrogant," she said.
I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped my lips. Detective Anderson rounded on me. "You think this is funny?" he yelled. "You won't think it's so funny when you're behind bars. Now tell me where you hid that gun!"
It was just then that the door to the interrogation room opened and an apologetic Officer Wilson showed my lawyer into the room. He was a large man with a round, protruding belly that reminded me of Orson Welles. At fifty, he'd been practicing law for almost twenty-five years. I'd used him a couple of times to help me get out of some drunk driving charges and a few other misdemeanors—it was easy to get into a bar fight when you were drunk and looking for someone to take your frustrations out on. He'd always come through for me, and I knew he would now too.
"Detective Anderson," he snarled, then glanced behind the detective to Treena. "And Detective Walker, I presume. Since this is our first meeting, I'll make this short and sweet. I am Geoffrey Stevens, Mr. Ryder's attorney. Should either of you feel the need to question my client again without me in the room, I shall not hesitate to file charges against you both for harassment and failure to adhere to my client's Miranda Rights."
I felt bad for Treena, who looked like she'd been slapped across the face, but a small part of me thought she deserved it. She was placing me in a difficult position, and part of me resented her for it.
"Have you said anything?" Geoffrey asked me.
I shook my head. "Only that I didn't do it."
He nodded once and turned to Detective Anderson. "My client has no more to say to you at this time." He turned back to me. "I'll have you out on bail in the morning. Until then, keep your mouth shut."
I nodded my understanding, and Detective Anderson let out a long sigh, knowing that he was out of options now. He turned toward the mirror on the wall. "Take him to his cell." A moment later, Officer Wilson appeared and hauled me out of the room.
"I'll be down to see you after I sort out a few things up front," Geoffrey called after me.
Officer Wilson led me down a long, dark hall that felt cold and scuzzy. The lighting was nonexistent, and when we finally got to my cell, it was with a strange feeling of relief that the bars closed behind me. At least this part of the night was over. Hopefully, the morning would bring better results.
14
Treena
I sat at my desk, staring at the paperwork I'd never quite finished from the other day. I'd been staring at it for five minutes already, zoning out, while the department hustled and bustled around me. No one seemed to be paying me any attention, which was probably a good thing right now. My mind wouldn't stop racing. Was it possible that Jax had really killed his ex-wife? No, of course not. Still...
He had left my apartment in the middle of the night to go to Penny's house. I had no idea what time he'd actually left. All I knew was that I'd fallen asleep around two, maybe a bit before. When I'd woken up, he was gone. It seemed a little strange. Even if she had called him, threatening to kill herself as he'd said she'd been, it seemed odd to me that he'd go over there. I mean, she was his ex-wife.
Then again, when I'd thought Jax was in trouble, I'd hightailed it over to the crime scene, ready to help him in any way I could. And Jax was my ex-everything. It had only been when I'd arrived and seen him in handcuffs and the scowl on Anderson's face, that part of me had frozen. The defense that I'd been mentally preparing for Jax on my drive over had evaporated in the blink of an eye. Jesus, I was such a chicken.
"Hey," a woman's voice said. I looked up from my desktop and saw Emily standing there, frowning at me. "I need to talk to you," she said.
I nodded and looked around the room. No one was watching us. The novelty of a woman homicide detective was already starting to wear off, at least when there was real work to be done.
"Sure," I said, already knowing what Emily was going to say. She wasn't stupid. I was sure she was wondering what had happened after she'd left Jon and Buddy's last night. I stood up and followed her into one of the smaller conference rooms off the hall. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I stole a quick glance at the text I'd just received from Clarissa.
I just saw the news. What the hell is going on? Did Jax really kill someone?!?
I sent a quick reply that I'd call her later and closed the door behind me and Emily.
"What the hell is going on?" she asked, turning on me.
"Nothing," was my automatic response.
She shot me an irritated look. "Don't play dumb with me, Treena. I was there last night. I saw you with Jax, remember?" She had her finger pointed at me, and it took every fiber in my being not to yank it.
I sighed. "Yes, we talked. He wanted to apologize for the way he left things with me in Colorado."
"And?" Emily prompted.
"And nothing," I lied. "The last time I saw him was seven years ago, Emily. You know that. Running into him last night was just a huge coincidence. His apology was nothing more than part of his whole AA thing."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
I wished Emily would just let this go, but she was quite tenacious. I thought that when she finally passed the exam, she'd make an excellent detective. "Meaning that I told Jax I forgave him, and we went our separate ways."
"You didn't go home with him?"
"Of course not." I felt bad for lying—Emily was the only friend I had in the department—but what was I supposed to do? I didn't want anyone knowing that I'd been with Jax last night. Even though Emily was my friend, she was also sleeping with Anderson. Where exactly did her loyalties lie?
Emily exhaled, looking intently at me as if she was trying to read my mind. "Okay," she finally said. "I believe you."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "So you won't say anything?" I asked.
Slowly, she shook her head. "No. If it got out that you were with Jax last night—even if you were just talking to him—your career here would be over. The guys in this department... they're a good group, but they're almost as bad as a clique of high school girls when it comes to the rumor mill. They'd turn your 'talking' to Jax into something much more sordid. You'd never live it down."
I shuddered. This morning, I'd awoken to discover YouTube videos of me and Jax all over the internet from last night. Luckily for me, the cameras had all been trained on him. No one cared about the dime-a-dozen girl he was with. The most the cameras had gotten of me was the back of my head. Still, if a new video surfaced… a better one that showed me clearly… I'd be screwed. I just had to pray that didn't happen.
I wondered if Emily knew the guys in the department were all well aware of her relationship with Anderson, and whether or not that had hurt her chances of making detective. Then again, Anderson was a cop, not a criminal. Maybe it was different. Also, in the NYPD, the detective rank wasn't actually a rank. It was a designation. Which meant that, technically speaking, Anderson wasn't Emily's superior. So their dating wasn't quite as taboo as it might have been otherwise.
"Thanks," I told her. "I appreciate that."
She was still looking at me a little funny, like she didn't quite trust me anymore. I wasn't sure I blamed her. I almost didn't trust myself.
If it comes down to it, I'll tell Anderson and Captain Murphy that I was with Jax last night. But not before the coroner's report.
If the time of death came back between midnight and two, I knew I'd have no choice but to confess my whereabouts. But if it was after two... I couldn't verify anything. I'd be useless as an alibi. I might still be able to help Jax from the inside—keeping an eye on new suspects as they arose and making sure Anderson didn't blow them off because he was convinced Jax was guilty. But this would only work if I was still on the case, which meant that no one could know I'd been with him. I had to talk to Jax and make sure he knew that. What if his lawyer was already prepping him on what to say? What if Jax told Anderson he was with me before I had a chance to t
alk to him? Shit, this was a mess. I suddenly felt as alone as I had on my first day here. I reminded myself that my first day here was just yesterday, but it already seemed a million miles away.
"Just don't blow this," Emily said. "Keith wants me to help you with this, which means my ass is on the line too. And he has a tendency to see things in a very black and white kind of way. In his mind, Jax is guilty."
"Are you saying that he won't investigate any other suspects?" I asked, horrified that Anderson might be so slipshod in his detective work.
"No. Keith's a good cop; he'll do the work. I'm just saying that the more you believe in someone's guilt, the harder it is to prove their innocence. That's why it's probably a good thing you're on this case with him. He needs someone to help balance him out a little." She got a dreamy sort of look in her eyes whenever she talked about Anderson.
"You really care about him, don't you?" I asked.
Emily blushed. "What do you mean?" She looked like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. I considered telling her that I knew all about her and Anderson and didn't care, but she was already so high strung, I didn't want to make it worse. "I care about all the cops in this department," she finally said. Then she scurried toward the door. "I better go before someone starts looking for me. I'll see you later." She exited the room, and I heaved a sigh of relief. This wasn't going to be easy.
15
Jax
I sat on my couch in my home with my head in my hands. Thank God I'm home.
Caden sat in a chair across from me. He'd driven me home after my arraignment this morning. I still couldn't believe my bail had been so high. A quarter of a million dollars. What bullshit.
"How are you feeling?" Caden asked.
I rubbed my temples. "Like I just spent the night in jail," I said, laughing. Caden smiled politely, but I was pretty sure he didn't see anything funny in the situation.
"Do you wanna tell me what happened?"
I sighed. Between the police and my lawyer, I'd been over this a million times already. I gave Caden a quick outline of events since I felt I owed him that much, at least—after all, he had skipped out on practice to be at my arraignment hearing this morning—then told him that I didn't want to talk about it anymore for the rest of the day. He nodded.
"Can I just ask one question first?" I groaned softly, and the corners of Caden's lips curved up. "Just a quick question, then I promise I'll let it lie for today."
"Go ahead," I told him.
"Were you drinking before you went down to Penny's last night?"
"No!" I cried, a sudden flash of irritation. "Of course not!"
Caden lifted one placating hand. "Just checking," he said. "I'm your sponsor. It's part of my job."
I nodded, understanding Caden's position but still annoyed by it. Sometimes it seemed like my past was going to follow me forever.
"Can I ask you something now?" I said, looking at Caden, trying to read his expression.
"Of course," he said. "Anything."
"You believe me, right? That I didn't kill Penny?"
There it was. A flash of uncertainty. It was brief, but it was definitely there. "Of course I do," Caden said. I smiled and nodded, knowing that he was lying. Or, at the very least, that he had doubts. Doubt was almost worse than not believing me altogether. At least then I'd have known where I stood with him. Now, it felt like I was walking across a frozen pond, uncertain of where the thin spots were in the ice. If I stepped the wrong way, I'd fall right through; if I stepped the right way, it would lead me to safety. The only question was, which way should I step?
Before either of us could break the awkward silence hanging in the air, my doorbell rang. I peeked through the peephole before opening it, afraid that it might be another reporter. They'd followed us home this morning, and I wouldn't put it past one of them to try ringing my bell, just to see what I'd do. But it wasn't a reporter who filled the frame, it was Treena. I opened the door, surprised and happy to see her. I'd told Geoffrey that I had a possible alibi for last night. He'd practically begged me to give her up, but I told him I had to talk to her first. I'd promised him I wouldn't wait. Now was as good a time as any. Maybe I could find a polite way to ask Caden to clear out for a bit.
But Treena wasn't alone. When I opened the door, Treena, along with half a dozen other cops, came walking in as if they owned the place.
"Tre—" I started to say, then caught myself. "Detective Walker... what are you doing here?"
I could tell she was working hard to keep her face neutral. "Jax Ryder," she said, clearing her throat before she went on. "We have a warrant to search your premises." She handed me a tri-folded paper as my heart sunk into my stomach, making me nauseous.
"Call Geoffrey," Caden said coming up behind me. "Now."
I turned just in time to see the surprise register on his face when he saw that it was Treena who had served me the warrant papers. I hadn't filled him in on what had happened between us after he'd left Jon and Buddy's last night. He didn't even know that she was a cop. Caden looked at me, and when he didn't say anything, I knew we were safe. He would follow my lead on this and ask me about it later, privately.
The other cops who'd come with Treena were already pulling out drawers and opening closets. One drawer from a side table in the entryway went clanging to the floor, spilling its contents. I clenched my jaw and felt Caden put a restraining hand on my shoulder.
"Do I have to be here for this?" I asked Treena.
"No," she said, shaking her head. She looked around at Emily and the other cops who were busy ripping my house apart and leaned closer to me so that only I could hear. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Anger boiled in me.
"I'll stay," Caden said, clapping a reassuring hand on my back. "You get out of here. Go get some air."
I sucked in a deep breath. "I'll be at the stadium," I told him, grabbing my keys. "Call if you need anything." I was sure he'd nodded but didn't dare turn my head to look. I was afraid that if I did, I'd see something else being broken or mishandled and I'd lose my temper. Striking a cop was never a good idea, especially when you're out on bail for murder charges.
"Mr. Ryder," Treena said, calling after me. "Don't go far."
16
Treena
"There's nothing here!" I shouted.
"No shit," Emily snapped back at me.
I don't know why I was getting so annoyed. It was good that there was nothing here. At least, good for Jax. Emily, however, seemed more irritated as time ticked by.
"I thought we'd find something," she mumbled to herself.
I paused, looking at her in a new light. "You think he did it." It wasn't a question. How had I not realized this before? Emily thought Jax was just as guilty as Anderson did.
Emily looked up at me. "No," she said. "I mean... maybe. I don't know. Shit, Treena, he was covered in her blood. The witness places him at the scene of the crime. It doesn't exactly look good for him."
"All that witness saw was his jersey, not his face. It could've been anyone."
"Yeah, anyone covered in Penny Ryder's blood."
"That doesn't mean he killed her," I yelled. A few of the other officers who were finishing up the search stopped and looked at us. I shot them a dirty look, and they went back to their business. The next time I spoke, my voice was lower.
"Look, there's no point in arguing about this." I didn't point out that she wasn't actually a homicide detective. I figured that would only make things worse. She was really more of a department floater who helped out with homicide work when the captain permitted her to, which fortunately for Emily, was frequently. I suspected Anderson had something to do with that.
"Our job is to investigate," I said. "We searched Jax's house and his car. There's nothing here. We're done. Let's go."
"This warrant covers Jax's house, car, and anywhere else he had access to."
"You're thinking about the stadium," I said.
"Bingo."
"Do you re
ally think Jax would hide the gun at the stadium? When would he have even had time to do that?"
"He could've killed Penny earlier, gone to the stadium and hidden the gun in his locker, then realized he'd left something behind and gone back to Penny's to get it. That's when he got caught."
"You realize how stupid that sounds, don't you?" I asked. "Why would Jax come back to the Penny's without changing first?"
"I don't know," Emily snapped. "I have no idea how the criminal mind works. If you were being objective, you'd see that I was right about searching his locker."
"I am being objective. And objectively, I think your theory is stupid." We glared at each other a long minute before I finally sighed and dropped my shoulders. "I guess if we don't search it, Anderson will."
"Keith is thorough, if nothing else."
"Right." I let out a long breath. "Fine. Let's go get it over with." I turned to the group of officers still meandering around Jax's home. "Hey, fellas, let's clean this place up a little before we go, alright? We don't need to leave it looking like a pigsty." The officers stopped in their tracks, staring at me like I'd spoken a foreign language, then bust out laughing.
"What the fuck did I say?" I muttered.
Emily shook her head beside me. "They think you're joking."
"Why would I joke about something like that? It's not even funny."
"Because they're men. And men are idiots," she said. We both tried to suppress a giggle, our irritation with each other lifting. Suddenly, we'd been reminded that we were the only two women in the homicide department—even if Emily was more of an honorary member.
