Lena kept coming to the same conclusion. She was a dog chasing its tail. “Who else did you tell about the boy?”
“Friends. People I could trust.”
“I thought I was a friend you could trust.”
This time, Denise had an excuse. “I thought I was protecting you.”
“That’s a lie,” Lena said. “You didn’t trust anybody at work. Not me, not Lonnie. You knew something was wrong. You thought there was a mole, and you thought it could be anybody from the top down.”
Denise let out a heavy sigh. She looked like she couldn’t muster the strength to argue anymore.
Lena asked, “Did you suspect Lonnie was Big Whitey?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. Lena could tell from her expression that this was the truth. “It seemed odd that Big Whitey was getting tipped off. I thought maybe it was one of Lonnie’s secretaries or somebody on your team.”
“Or me?”
Denise’s gaze settled somewhere behind Lena. “I didn’t think so, but the stakes were too high for that kind of risk.”
Lena studied Denise Branson, thinking not for the first time that she was looking at herself five years ago. The old Lena would’ve absolutely tried to go it alone. She didn’t trust anybody. She didn’t lean on anybody. She never asked for help. She thought there was only one person in the entire world who could do things the right way. Even today, all those tendencies were still there. Lena spent a good deal of her time battling her baser impulses. Sometimes she won. A lot of times she still lost. She consoled herself with the knowledge that at least she was trying.
Lena said, “I heard Lonnie was in the mayor’s office when they grabbed him. Took him straight out the front door of city hall so God and everybody could see him.”
Denise grinned, obviously familiar with the story. “That blonde chick’s the one who arrested him. Agent Mitchell. I bet she kept her foot up his ass the whole time.”
Lena didn’t doubt it. “If Lonnie was half the man he claimed to be, he’d find a way to kill himself, save the courts the trouble.”
“Give me a damn shiv, I’ll do it myself.”
“Get in line.” Lena blew out a long breath “I can’t waste anymore of my time on that bastard. How’re the boys doing?”
Denise’s face lit up with something that could only be described as pure joy. “They’re good, Lee. I put Aaron in his mama’s arms myself. He’s surrounded by family. He’s back with his brother. It’s gonna be tough, but they’ve all got each other.”
Again, Lena got the strange sensation of looking at herself. All those balls juggled in the air were worth it when you managed to keep them going. Watching them fly brought a bigger rush than any drug on the street. Of course, the high never lasted. No one could keep juggling that many balls for long. The first time one of them dropped, you wanted to die. The second time, you felt bad. The third and fourth times, you just found another ball to throw up into the air and moved on.
Lena had dropped so many balls in her lifetime that she’d lost count.
She told Denise, “I forgive you.”
Denise looked surprised, then wary. “Why?”
“I have no idea,” Lena confessed. She was living proof that second chances worked, but she’d never been able to extend that courtesy to anyone else. Losing Jeffrey Tolliver had taught her a lot of things, but the possibility of losing Jared had floored her.
Denise asked, “You wanna think about it?”
“No.” Lena offered the naked, unadorned truth. “DeShawn and Eric are dead. Lonnie turned out to be Satan. Paul’s put in an application for the Atlanta PD. Jared almost died.” Lena felt a lump in her throat. She left her little bean off the list, but the memory was still raw. “I guess I can’t afford to lose anybody else.”
Denise was still skeptical. “It’s probably my fault you and Jared almost got killed. I could’ve gotten you fired. It’s only through the grace of God that those assholes in IA believe your story.”
“You think they believe me?” Lena laughed. “The only reason I’m not on the street or in a jail cell is they can’t prove anything.” She walked to the sink and turned on the faucet. The water was ice cold. Lena bent down and drank from the tap.
Denise said, “I’ve been a bad friend to you. I know that.” Her voice went low. “And I know you’ve been going through some things. Before all this, I mean.”
Lena turned off the faucet. Denise wasn’t the only one with trust issues. It had never occurred to Lena to talk to anybody about losing the baby—not to Jared, not to Denise, not even to herself. Truthfully, it felt like too much of a failure, something she should be ashamed of.
And even if it didn’t feel that way, Lena wasn’t about to pour out her heart in the women’s toilet at the police station.
She told Denise, “It’s all right. It’s something I had to go through on my own.”
“I get that.” Denise wasn’t one to sit around gazing at her navel, either. “I’m here if you want to talk, though.”
Lena looked down at her hand. It was resting on the sink instead of pressed to her empty belly. She wondered if that’s how it happened—incrementally. The nurse from Dr. Benedict’s office had been right about one thing: it didn’t go away, but it got different.
Lena let out another long breath. She looked at the mirror over the sink, thinking she’d aged about twenty years since this all started. “Jared’s been bugging the shit out of me. I could use an excuse to get out of the house.”
Denise caught Lena’s gaze in the mirror. “Me, too.”
Lena waited.
Denise cleared her throat. She struggled to speak. “Her name’s Lila. We’ve been dating for a while.”
Lena didn’t push it. “How long is IA gonna keep you here?”
“Long as it takes.”
“Call me when you’re finished. We’ll go to Barney’s.”
Denise looked away. The beaten-down expression was back. Barney’s was a cop bar. She obviously didn’t want to be seen by the men she used to command.
“You know what?” Lena grabbed a handful of paper towels. “As far as I can tell, you were the only cop on this entire force who saw something was wrong with Lonnie. You saved that kidnapped boy’s life. You kept him hidden and safe. You made sure he got home to his family. You gave Marie Sorensen’s mother a face to the name. You took a vicious predator off the streets. You wrapped all of this up in a pretty bow for the state to untie.” She tossed the paper towels into the trash. “Am I right? You did all that?”
“That’s one way to phrase it.”
“As far as I’m concerned, that’s the only way to phrase it to any asshole who asks.”
Denise shook her head. She saw where this was going. “IA isn’t gonna see me as a hero, Lee. They’re gonna fire my ass as soon as it hits the chair.”
“Then you tell them you’ll go straight to whichever news station will take you. Hell, go to the nationals. Go up to Canada. Tell them what you did to save that boy, and then let the Macon PD explain why they fired you for it.” Lena laughed at the thought. “If they need somebody to corroborate your story, give them my number.”
Denise stared openly. “You are one crazy bitch. You know that?”
“Maybe.” Lena rested her hand on the door, but didn’t open it. “I’ve been exactly where you are right now too many times not to know how to dig out of it.”
“You really think that’s gonna work?”
“Never underestimate the modern police force’s aversion to bad publicity,” Lena said, thinking she should put that on a plaque by her office door. “Don’t let them hit your pension. That’s what they’ll go after first. Don’t let them bust your rank to anything lower than detective.” Lena smiled as she thought of something. “What do you think Paul’s odds are getting onto the Atlanta PD?”
Denise smiled, too. “White male, ex-military? They’ll roll out the red carpet.”
“Either way, I’ll need a new partner.”
>
“Little salt and pepper?”
“More like Chico and the Man.” Lena held open the door. Her smile dropped for the second time that day.
Will Trent was leaning against the wall. His face was a mess. Black and blue bruises were punctuated by dark red spots that were about the size of a grown man’s knuckles.
Lena told Denise, “Call me about that beer.”
“You got it.” Denise didn’t look at Will as she headed toward the interrogation room. Patterson was standing sentry in the doorway. He glared at Lena. She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him.
Will waited until Denise had shut the door. He told Lena, “I see Jared’s out and about.” She must’ve looked confused, because he said, “I just saw him go into the locker room.”
Lena felt her jaw clench. She was going to kill Jared. After all her stupid husband had survived, she was going to strangle him with her bare hands.
Will nodded down the hall toward Denise. “She going to be okay?”
“What do you think?” Lena asked. She wasn’t being belligerent. The state would have a lot of sway in Denise’s case.
Will said, “I think the department has enough bad press without pissing off somebody like Denise Branson.”
Lena wondered how much Will had heard standing out in the hallway. “She seems ready to take her medicine.”
“In my experience, people like that don’t generally stay down for the count.” He stared his meaning into her. They both knew Lena had a habit of rising from the ashes.
“Right.” Lena looked at her watch, though the only thing on her immediate agenda was to drag her idiot husband home by the collar. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“I’m already finished. I was waiting to talk to you.”
Lena felt dread flood through her body. “About what?”
“To tell you that you were right.”
She laughed, thinking this was some kind of joke. “Right about what?”
“The attack. IA wanted me to wait until you were cleared to tell you.”
Lena wasn’t laughing anymore. “Tell me what?”
“It wasn’t your fault. The reason those two men went to your house that night was because Jared said something at your doctor’s office.”
Lena couldn’t make sense of the words. It was like he was speaking Japanese.
Will explained, “Cayla Martin was filling in for one of the nurses at Dr. Benedict’s office while you were there. She overheard Jared talking about Big Whitey.”
Lena’s mouth didn’t just open in surprise. Her jaw practically grazed the floor. Cayla Martin. The name had sounded familiar when Lena first heard it three days ago, but she’d never in a million years put it together. “I thought she just worked at the hospital. That she was Tony Dell’s stepsister.”
“She did part-time work at Dr. Benedict’s office.” Will spoke carefully, like he was explaining it to a child. “Cayla overheard Jared telling you that Lonnie Gray was Big Whitey.”
“No.” Lena felt a dry laugh scratch her throat. The conversation sounded more and more like a really bad joke. “He wasn’t serious.”
“Cayla felt differently. She told DeShawn Franklin, who said it was probably nothing, and then she told Lonnie Gray, who put out a hit on you and your husband.”
None of this made sense. “How did she—”
“Cayla was dating Chuck Gray before he died of leukemia. She was close to Lonnie. Or, as close as two people like that can be.” Will put his hands in his pockets. “You want my personal theory, I think she was just one of those women who likes stirring things up.”
Lena felt her head shaking even as her brain tried to process the information. She remembered the doctor’s visit. She remembered Jared talking shit. And she remembered taking him seriously for just a brief moment before dismissing his theory like she dismissed every jackass theory that came out of his mouth.
All she could manage was, “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?” Will asked. “It’s the truth.” There was no smile on his face, no indication that he was about to reveal the punch line. “It wasn’t your fault. I wouldn’t say it was Jared’s fault, either. It’s just something that happened.”
Lena pressed her back against the wall. She’d been racking her brain trying to figure out where she’d gone wrong, what she’d done, and in the end, she was completely blameless. “I just assumed …” Lena shook her head again. She was turning into a bobblehead doll. “I thought it was something to do with work.”
“That’s a reasonable assumption,” Will agreed. “We all thought it was work-related. But it wasn’t.”
“We were …” She let her voice trail off. Lena couldn’t say the most startling part of all: On the street, you expected bad things to happen. They had been in her doctor’s office. Lena had thought they were safe.
She told Will, “I don’t even remember meeting her. I’ve seen her face all over the news and it never even crossed my mind.” She felt a jolt from a distant memory. “I think she even called me on the phone.”
Will said, “If it helps any, you’ve really annoyed my partner. She’s spent her professional career saying there’s no such thing as coincidence.”
Lena kept shaking her head. She’d never believed in coincidences, either.
“So,” Will said. “Any questions?”
Lena could only think of one. “Does Sara know it wasn’t my fault?”
He hesitated, but told her, “Yes.”
Lena didn’t even try to fight the smile on her lips. “And she knows that you’re down here telling me?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t try to stop you?”
“I should head back to Atlanta.” Will pushed away from the wall, obviously uneasy with the subject. “I’m glad everything worked out for you and Jared.”
She couldn’t let him leave. “Why didn’t you just call me? Or email me?”
He gave her a knowing look. “You always come out better when we’re off the record.”
Lena didn’t have to ask for clarification. Her memory flashed up that night in the house when she’d held the hammer over her head. Jared was bleeding out on the floor. One man was already dead. Even now, the bruise on Lena’s knee was still tender where she’d dropped her full weight onto Fred Zachary’s spine. If she thought about it hard enough, she could hear the crack of bone echoing in her ears.
Georgia’s Castle Doctrine law provided that any man or woman could use deadly force against an intruder so long as they believed their life was in danger.
Will Trent knew just as well as Lena that Fred Zachary had no longer been a threat.
He gave a slight bow, his only acknowledgment of the truth between them. “Until next time.”
“There’s not going to be a next time.”
“Lena.” He sounded almost wistful. “I really hope you’re right.”
Will kept his hands in his pockets as he walked away. Lena remembered the first time she’d met him. With his three-piece suits and mild manner, he was more like an undertaker than a cop. In Lena’s quest to learn from her mistakes, Will Trent was up there with the big life lessons. That undertaker had almost sent her to prison.
And not without good reason.
Lena gave Will enough time to leave the building before she approached the interrogation room door. She listened carefully, but couldn’t hear anything. Denise had a quiet voice and Brock Patterson had the dulcet tones of an ancient nun. Lena pressed her palm to the door as an act of silent solidarity. So many times, Lena had been on the other side of that door. So many times, she’d known in her heart that no one was waiting on the other side.
“Hey.”
She spun around, surprised to find Jared behind her. The shock wore off quickly. “You dumbass. What are you doing up here? How did you—”
He kissed her in a sloppy way that was meant to shut her up.
Lena scowled as she pulled away. He was wearing blue sweatpants
and a bright orange Auburn sweatshirt. His bandages were off. His hair stuck up like a duck’s ass in the back. The scalp had Frankenstein stitches that had already been documented on several Facebook pages.
She asked, “How did you get here? You’re not supposed to be driving.”
“Estefan picked me up to come see the new Harleys.”
“Estefan,” she muttered. The two had half a brain between them. “You need to go home.”
“So, take me home.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Jared.”
“Take me home.” He grabbed her ass to get her going. Lena slapped away his hand. Cameras covered almost every angle of the building. She imagined the front desk sergeant was pressing record at this very moment.
She said, “You should be at home asleep right now. You were in the hospital. You almost died.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Bullshit. You can barely keep your eyes open.”
“I wish you couldn’t keep your mouth open.”
She gave him a sharp look, but she took the hint. Lena had spent enough time with Nell to know the kind of wife she didn’t want to be. She was all for putting a man in his place, but Jared’s father was so neutered he probably sat down on the toilet to pee.
Jared leaned on her as they made their way toward the front exit. “These bikes are gonna ride awesome, babe. There’s push buttons on the bags, they’ve all got the 103 power pack …”
Lena tuned him out. She let Will’s revelation roll through her mind. Cayla Martin. Dr. Benedict’s office. No matter how hard Lena tried, she still couldn’t recall meeting the woman. She was just one of those faceless people who blended into the scenery.
Jared didn’t remember her, either. At least he hadn’t commented the one time he’d watched the news with Lena. Cayla Martin’s face had come on-screen and he’d turned off the TV before the story could run.
Unlike Lena, Jared didn’t seem interested in finding out why they’d been targeted. He was too focused on being happy that the shooters hadn’t succeeded. More likely, he thought it was Lena’s fault but didn’t want her to feel bad about it.