In the time since their last visit, the frosted doors to the executive suite had been closed, light still shining brightly behind them. Without giving them a second thought he pushed through, pulling up abruptly to the sound of voices drifting out through the captain’s door. Recognizing them immediately, his first thought was to run, to turn and bolt in the opposite direction, to go join the others at breakfast and pretend he was never there.
Or, better yet, go home and dive into bed.
Just as surely, he knew neither would come to pass.
“Reed?” Grimes said, his voice carrying into the hallway. “That you?”
Pausing outside the door, Reed let his eyes drift shut for a moment. He drew in another breath of air, feeling Billie press tight to him, before slowly letting it out, his shoulders sagging.
His legs stiff, he walked in a stilted gait down the hall, Billie by his side, as Captain Grimes came into view behind his desk.
Making it a few steps further, he found the owners of the voices he’d heard sitting in the visitor chairs, both staring up at him.
In the closest chair was Columbus Chief of Police Eleanor Brandt. A short, compact woman, her hair was cut in a severe bob, most of it having trended to silver. Sharp features were underscored by thin lips drawn tight.
Already in uniform, she looked to be ready for the day.
Seated behind her was the highest-ranking civilian in the department hierarchy, Public Relations Coordinator Oliver Dade. Somewhere in his late fifties, most of his hair was gone, the remainder pushed to the side atop his head. Wire-rimmed glasses rested on his nose and an unnecessarily large watch sagged on his thin wrist.
Both staring straight at him, it was clear at a glance that he was the person they’d been waiting on, the reasons for their visit not good.
“Chief,” Reed said, nodding. “Dade.”
“Detective,” Brandt replied, Dade opting for a silent nod.
Turning to Grimes, Reed said, “Sorry to interrupt. Mabry’s been transported to FCC. Lunardi’s been contacted, will be flying back later today.”
Grunting slightly, Grimes offered only a nod.
Based on the look on his face, it was clear the conversation at hand when he and Billie had arrived was not going well.
“That’s good work,” Brandt said.
Keeping his attention on Grimes a moment longer, hoping for any indicator, Reed slowly shifted to look at Brandt. “Why do I get the impression there’s a but coming?”
Drawing her mouth in tighter, small lines appeared across her upper lip, vertical streaks disappearing behind light pink lipstick.
“Detective, we’re out of chairs here, otherwise I would ask you to sit,” she opened, all pretense of collegiality fading. “I’m sure you have no idea why we’re here this morning, so allow me to get right to it.”
Shifting to the side, she pointed to the computer monitor on the desk. Frozen in place was an image of Ethan Mabry, his stiff posture and the backdrop behind him the exact image Reed had been staring at live not long before.
Feeling his mouth part slightly, Reed stared at it, his breath escaping through his lips.
“How?”
“Detective, was there a video camera sitting open in the room earlier?” Brandt asked. “A cell phone? Anything?”
Folds of skin appeared around Reed’s eyes as he considered the question, recalling standing in Lunardi’s den.
“There was a laptop sitting on the coffee table. Why?”
Glancing to Dade, Brandt nodded slightly. “Because it was recording everything that was said. And the instant the transmission was cut, it was sent to every major news outlet in the city.”
The feeling that Reed had been fighting all night, the one that resided deep in the well of his stomach, again appeared. What had once been out of concern for Della Snow was now replaced by a much different feeling, one that could sense he was about to be pulled into the other aspect of his job.
The part he despised so much, where things like politics and public perception mattered much more than outcomes.
“That’s...” Reed began, replaying the final few moments of their encounter in his head.
The way Mabry had finally stepped away from his chair, presumably enduring the awkward positioning to ensure the best camera angle. How he had put down the detonator in his hand.
How they had seized him and cleared the house.
The way the bomb squad had later confirmed that Billie was correct in alerting on the plastic explosive he had slid under the couch, but that it wasn’t attached to anything, no way of detonating it even present.
“Now, we’ve managed to get them to keep it under wraps for the time being,” Brandt said, “but I won’t go into the number of favors and horse trading that had to occur to make that happen.”
Again, the feeling in Reed’s stomach grew more pronounced. This time steeped in something much stronger, he could sense there was more that wasn’t being shared.
Could practically feel that something he wouldn’t be pleased with was about to be handed down.
Arriving at the same conclusion, not wanting to drag things out any further than necessary, Grimes said, “Reed, they want you to take a leave of absence.”
Chapter Eighty
If not for the loose gaggle of law enforcement vehicles parked out front, it would be easy to misconstrue the West Jefferson Urgent Care Clinic as a veterinarian office. Or a laundry mat. Or possibly even a mini-mart.
A single story tall and made entirely from concrete block, large windows lined the front. Tall red letters announcing the name of the place were placed along the top, the glow of the light behind them just starting to fade with the advent of morning setting in.
Parked in the second of two rows of spots in the small lot out front, Reed stared up at the structure, seeing a handful of officers milling around the front door, a few more in the waiting room just on the opposite side of the glass. Still in a daze from the conversation he’d just had in Grimes’s office, he made no move to go forward, sitting with his seat reclined, Billie’s chin pressed tight against his arm.
The last twelve hours had been a sprint through hell. It had taken a situation so outlandish that at first he didn’t even believe it was real and turned it upside down, every successive moment worse than the one before.
In the wake of it, Reed and his partner were both exhausted. They hadn’t had enough to replenish themselves, their bodies were fighting the effects of withdrawal from the vast amount of adrenaline that had been tossed in and out of their systems repeatedly.
And that was before the meeting that had taken place a few minutes prior.
The reason behind the not-so-voluntary, not-quite-a-suggestion leave of absence was what Brandt had called being a victim of his own success. After seeing the video that Mabry had sent along, the brass had all agreed that Reed had done nothing wrong. In fact, he had done a magnificent job, on this and all the other cases he’d been handed.
And therein was the problem. He was developing a reputation. If word ever got out about what Mabry had just done, about the way he had been able to prey on that budding celebrity, it would only embolden others in the community to do the same.
The advent of social media had already created a culture where people felt the need to broadcast everything they did or said. That was fine when it was people extolling or bemoaning a movie or new burrito place, but when it started to trend into criminal activity, something had to be done.
Which, somehow, meant that the detective duo with the best arrest rate in the city was being pushed to the side for a while.
Trying to make sense of it, Reed could feel his mouth twisting up, bitterness rising to his tongue. Lifting the bottle of tea he’d purchased on the way out, he took a long drink, the sweet nectar doing nothing to wash away the taste.
The people downtown could package things however they wanted, but the truth was, they were so afraid of the media and the onslaught of bad press that w
ould come with admitting they had messed up years before, they were hanging one of their own out to dry.
Deep in the thought, trying to determine if he ever had it in him to go inside and face the cluster of fellow officers grouped up to stand watch over Bella, Reed barely heard the buzzing of the phone. Not until Billie let out a low whine beside him, the sound pulling him back to the present, did he even notice the glowing faceplate.
In no mood to talk to anybody, it wasn’t until he turned his head and saw the name flashing onscreen that he slid it to his knee, accepting the call. Leaving it on speakerphone, he merely said, “Deke.”
There was a moment’s pause before Deke said simply, “What happened?”
Flicking his gaze to the rearview, Reed could see the events of the night spread across his features. Sleep deprivation, stress, even dehydration, all clearly present.
As was the tremendous wrath he felt for what had just taken place.
“We found Della,” Reed said. “She is in West Jefferson Urgent Care. I’m here now, about to go in and see how she’s doing.”
“I know,” Deke replied. “You texted me all that a while ago. I mean, what happened since then?”
Feeling his brows come together, confusion set in for a moment, Reed fighting to decipher what was meant, before it came to him. “You got that from one word, huh?”
“Come on, man,” Deke replied. “How long have we been doing this now? Years? You should be over the moon right now, and instead, it sounds like someone just kicked your dog.”
Pausing, Reed thought on the statement a moment. He may have never thought to use such words – especially when his dog was as well trained as Billie - but there was no way he could argue they were wrong.
This should be his moment. He and Billie had saved a girl’s life. They had unraveled something that should have been done years ago.
And they were being punished for it.
“Billie and I have been placed on administrative leave.”
Just hearing the words out loud, in his own voice, brought renewed venom to Reed. Clenching his teeth, he balled his right hand into a fist, squeezing it tight, Billie inching forward slightly beside him.
“What the...” Deke muttered, his voice trailing off before beginning anew. “Why?”
“Because the damn department is afraid of their own shadow.”
“You’re shitting me.”
Again looking in the rearview mirror, Reed stared at his own reflection, seeing the hardened gaze staring back. “Nope. Say they need some time for the limelight to fade off us for a while.”
Taking a moment to process, Deke eventually managed, “Holy shit. Holy shit. That’s unbelievable.”
Not trusting himself to comment further, Reed only nodded.
“How long is a while?” Deke asked.
“Don’t know.”
“What did Grimes say?”
“He went to bat for me, fought it as best he could, but it was clear when we walked in the decision had already been made.”
There was more to it than that, more that Reed would circle back to discuss with Grimes later, but in the moment, he’d just needed to get out of the building. He’d needed to put distance between himself and Brandt and Dade before he exploded, likely taking his employment status from on-leave to terminated.
“Damn,” Deke muttered, his own voice now a mix of different thoughts and emotions. “I’m sorry. That...that sucks. What are you guys going to do?”
Right now, Reed had no idea. In the immediate future, he needed to do one last thing as an active detective, and then he and Billie needed to get off their feet for a while. There would be some cleanup and paperwork to be done on this case, but beyond that, he didn’t have a clue.
Hadn’t had a chance to get past the acrimony he felt to even pause and consider it.
“No clue,” he said, his voice no more than a whisper.
The line fell silent for a moment. There was no doubt a reason Deke had called, but in the wake of the new information, he seemed at a loss.
“Damn...” Deke muttered. “Listen, the reason I was calling was I wanted to ask a favor, but now...”
Jerking his gaze away from the mirror, Reed looked down at the phone, seeing the name on the screen. Just because he was pissed didn’t mean Deke hadn’t done him a tremendous service the night before.
He owed the man.
“What’s up?”
Again, there was a pause, uncertainty apparent. Sensing it, Reed prompted, “Deke, this isn’t on you. I’m worked up right now, but it’ll pass. What can we do for you?”
“Well, I was, uh...I was wondering if there was any way I could come meet her?” he managed.
Not once had Reed ever encountered Deke outside of his home. It was the place where he lived and worked and as far as Reed knew, spent almost every waking – and sleeping – hour.
Feeling his eyebrows rise slightly, he asked, “Her?”
“Yeah. Her. Della.”
For an instant, surprise surged through Reed, so intense it bordered on shock. Just as fast, it abated, recalling the scene that had played out earlier in the basement. Deke had heard what happened just as surely as he had, but unlike him, the man had been forced to stay there, hearing it over and over again in his mind.
Flicking his gaze to the dashboard clock, Reed said, “I have something I need to wrap up this morning, but I can pick you up in, say, two hours. That work?”
“I’ll be ready.”
Epilogue
The flow of foot traffic was just getting started for the morning. At ten minutes before nine, the opening round of cases was set to be heard in the various courtrooms inside the Franklin County Courthouse, the usual array of people such events drew represented in equal numbers.
Most mornings, Reed would stand and watch them roll by, a classic case study in basic human interaction and behavior. From the defendants that came in defiant or even annoyed to the family members that were already crying, fearing what was to come, to the myriad people that were hired to attack or defend them, there was rarely a dull moment.
Today, Reed didn’t have the stomach for it. Having spent the last two hours shoulder deep in the worst the system could represent, it was all he could do to keep a scowl off his face. His shoulder ached. His stomach was empty. He and Billie both badly needed rest.
This all just needed to be over. He needed to do this one final thing, and then depart for a while, put some space between himself and the world, and try to gain a bit of perspective on what had just happened.
Standing with his back against the wall, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, Reed didn’t see Lara Langston approach. He didn’t even realize she was present until she gave a small throat clear, jerking his attention up, blood rushing to his face as he tried to force a smile into place.
It didn’t quite work, the move just feeling awkward, no doubt looking even worse.
“Good morning,” he managed, pushing himself away from the wall.
“Good morning,” Langston replied, offering him a smile. A cup of Starbucks in hand, she was dressed in a blue skirt suit, a print top underneath it, pearls around her neck. Looking fresh, it was clear she had been home to shower and change since their last interaction, a stark contrast to him in every way. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No,” Reed said, raising a hand to his scalp and running it back through his hair, feeling bits of dirt shake loose, “not at all. Just caught us on the back end of a very long night.”
“Oof,” Langston replied, “nothing too bad, I hope.”
“Hope you never find out,” Reed replied, saying the words before he even realized they were out. Offering a weak half-smile, he hoped it would be enough to deflect it as a joke, even if it was the complete truth.
If ever she, or anybody else outside of those present the night before, got a full report of what had happened, it was likely his leave would move from temporary to permanent.
“Well, I’ll try to get you in and out of here quick if that’ll help,” Langston said. “Pretty straightforward.”
“Yeah,” Reed agreed. Taking a step forward, he slapped at the leg of his jeans, Billie rising beside him, the pair falling in beside Langston. Together, they all headed for the door, moving slow, foot traffic filing by to either side. “I took a look at the file again this morning. Fairly clear-cut.”
Both were careful not speak in too much detail, knowing better than to do so in the hallway, prying ears and eyes all too eager to catch them doing something that could get a case tossed out.
Reaching the door to the courtroom, Reed grabbed for the handle, holding it wide. He waited as Langston and Billie passed through before joining them, a handful of folks already inside. A few were seated in the rear bench seats, most moving around the tables at the front, getting things into order.
Bright light streamed in through the windows, the musty smell of body odor and cleaning products in the air.
“And your night?” Reed asked. “How was the celebration?”
Raising her coffee, Langston paused halfway to her mouth, rolling her eyes slightly. “You know how everybody says they feel twenty-five until they actually spend some time with a twenty-five year old?”
She didn’t bother to finish the thought, though she didn’t need to, a smile creasing Reed’s face. Blowing out a small puff of air, he bobbed his head, he and Billie pausing along the front row of the galley.
“That good, huh?”
Taking another step forward, Langston smiled. Turning sideways, she placed her hip against the wooden gate separating the audience from the counsel tables, her fingers resting on the metal latch. “Oh, yeah. The kind of night that makes you want to find someone a little closer to your own age to try again with.”
Thank You For Reading!
Aloha all!
Per usual, I must begin by saying thank you. If this is your first time reading my work, I appreciate you taking a chance. If you have been with Reed and Billie throughout these six novels, I am truly grateful for your continued support. Working with them is far and away the most fun I have had as a writer, and hopefully as the ending intimates, there are a lot of new and exciting things on the horizon for this unusual duo.
The Scorekeeper Page 27
