Cash and the Sorority Girl

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Cash and the Sorority Girl Page 24

by Ashley Bartlett


  “Were you serious earlier? About me moving in, I mean.”

  “Yes. I like having you here. I don’t generally like sharing my space with people, but you’re different.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay then.”

  “You’ll move in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Awesome.” I grinned. “We’ll need to order a bed and some furniture.”

  “The couch in there is fine.”

  “You’re young and I appreciate that you think sleeping on a couch indefinitely is fine, but you’re wrong.”

  She laughed. “Okay. I’ll also need to pack up my dorm room.”

  “No problem. If you don’t want to go back there, Laurel and I can do it.”

  “I think I’ll be okay. Especially if you’ll go with me.”

  “That I can do.”

  After Lane finished studying, we spent our evening playing board games. I grew increasingly worried about Laurel. She wasn’t answering my calls and she responded to my texts dismissively, at least an hour after I sent them. By my count, she’d gotten about ninety minutes of sleep in the past three days. I didn’t care if she didn’t want to talk about Benson right away. I just didn’t want her operating a firearm or a motor vehicle.

  It was well after dark when I got a call from her.

  “Hey. Where are you?” I asked.

  Lane whispered, “Needy.” She chuckled to herself and started setting up Battleship. I flipped her off.

  “Hey.” Laurel’s voice was raw and gritty. “I’m on I-5 with a patrol unit.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We got two more today, but Colin Hammond took off. Bakersfield PD picked him up hiding at his dad’s house. They are holding him.”

  “Are you going to get him?” It felt stupid when I asked it, but it seemed even dumber that she would drive three hundred miles on no sleep to pick up a felon that any officer could retrieve.

  “Yeah. Fenton and Blackford are buried in paperwork so I volunteered.”

  “But you haven’t slept in three days.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not driving so I’ll sleep on the way down. That’s the advantage of hitching a ride in a patrol car.” Her tone was mellow, measured. It was a lie.

  I could think of a ton of reasons why her plan made no sense, but I knew she’d already thought of them and decided to go anyway.

  “Fine. Whatever. What time will you be back?”

  “Probably around five in the morning. It depends on how long the transfer paperwork takes.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” I knew I sounded dejected and didn’t bother to hide it.

  “Yeah.”

  “Bye.”

  “Hey, wait,” she said urgently.

  “What?”

  “I’m okay. I just need some time and some sleep.” It was the first honest thing she’d said since she left me in a police cruiser almost twenty-four hours previous.

  “Promise?”

  “Yeah. I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Laurel had assured me she would be at my place at two to pick me up for our appointment at the district attorney’s office. I’d spent more time than necessary styling my hair. My button up and sweater made me look appropriately non-drug dealery. I’d even pulled a Laurel and polished my shoes. There was nothing else to distract me from waiting. Lane was in class. Nickels was hiding. I was pacing.

  We still hadn’t talked. I had no clue where she was at emotionally. And without knowing her state of mind, I felt like mine was up for debate. Also there was the whole “We have an appointment at the DA’s office. I’ll pick you up at two” thing. That had been a worrisome text to get without context.

  When she finally let herself into my place, I was slouched on the couch, feigning calm. I stood and went to her.

  “Hey.” I stood in front of her, unsure.

  “Hi.” She hesitated, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

  We stood like that for a long minute. She smelled like salt and cedar and hair product. I loved the way she smelled. She pressed her face into my neck. Her lips were touching my skin. Not kissing, just pressing. I started to let go, but she squeezed so I held on. When she finally pulled away, it was slow. A retraction in inches. She pressed my hand, then stepped away. She picked up a folder she had set by the door, then led me back to the couch. She was wearing a navy suit with a crisp white shirt and a tie the color of dried blood. It was rare that I saw her go totally formal. It was hot.

  “I spent the morning with Brian Walton. You remember him? He was the deputy district attorney who handled our initial agreement.” She unbuttoned her jacket and sat on the couch.

  “Yeah, I thought you hated him.”

  “I do. But I can handle a morning of being called sweetheart by a gross dude to get a decent deal worked out.” She held up the folder. “Your lawyer is going meet us at the DA’s office, right?”

  “Yep. And Nate and his lawyer, just like you asked.”

  She nodded. “Okay, good. Thanks.”

  “You okay? You seem nervous.” Or maybe I was projecting.

  “Sorry. It was a bitch to get an appointment on a Monday. I just want it to go as planned.” She smoothed her tie, which was unnecessary because there was a tie bar holding it in place.

  “So what’s so urgent?”

  She tapped the edge of the folder against her open palm. “I negotiated a release of your CI contract.”

  “You what?” I grinned. “How the fuck did you manage that?” I leaned forward and kissed her. She leaned into the kiss, cradling my lips with hers.

  “I argued that your cover had been compromised because I arrested multiple people while at a social engagement with you. Nate’s cover was compromised in the same way so he will be released as well.” She handed me the folder. “Anyway, like I said, you guys will need to review this.”

  “Thank you.”

  She shrugged. “It was the least I could do. I got you into this mess in the first place.”

  “Actually, as you have so aptly pointed out, I got myself into this mess. I’m the drug dealer, remember?”

  She looked down and nodded. “Right. Yeah.”

  “We need to talk about the Benson thing,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know.” She picked a piece of lint off her knee. “And I’m ready to have that conversation, but it’ll need to wait.” She was clearly avoiding eye contact.

  “I take it we need to head over to the DA’s office?” I checked the time.

  “Yeah. I’ll drive.” She stood and closed the top button of her jacket.

  I gathered my wallet and keys. If she wanted to wait, we could wait. But we were having a conversation about her behavior, dammit.

  “I have to tell you something,” I said as we drove.

  “What’s that?”

  “I asked Lane to move in with me. I didn’t really think about talking to you first, but now I realize I probably should have mentioned it.”

  She chuckled and finally looked at me. “I can see why that’s problematic, but mostly I think it’s an excellent idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. You guys have a weird bond. I think you’ll be good for each other.”

  “Dope. Because that could have been awkward.”

  “You realize this probably means seeing a lot more of my parents, right?”

  “Oh, swell.”

  Laurel pulled into the lot for the DA’s office. She led me upstairs to the appropriate floor. She was a very useful person to have around while navigating legal institutions.

  When we got off the elevator, my lawyer and Nate’s were waiting. Both women stood. Nate’s lawyer towered over mine, but that could have been because she was wearing insanely tall heels while Joan Kent was in oxfords.

  “Cash.” Kent shook my hand. “Detective Kallen.” She shook Laurel’s hand.

  The elevator opened again and Nate walked out. He’d showered an
d put on chinos and a nice shirt. He still needed a haircut, but it was an improvement.

  “Hey, man,” I said.

  Nate nodded at me. “What’s going on? Why have we been summoned?”

  Laurel opened the folder. Inside were two sets of paperwork. She handed one to each of the lawyers. “I asked Walton to release Braddock and Xiao from their CI contracts.” Nate and both lawyers turned to stare at Laurel. “Once you guys look over the paperwork and get everything signed, they will walk out of here free.”

  Nate caught my eye. He looked like he had questions, but luckily he was smart enough to wait to ask them.

  “Do we have time to meet privately with our clients before we all sit down with Walton?” Nate’s lawyer asked.

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Kent said.

  “There are rooms you can use down this hallway.” Laurel held out her hand to guide us. She put me and Kent in one room, then led Nate and his lawyer to the next room. Laurel took a seat in the hallway.

  The room we were in had a small round table and four unimaginative chairs. That was about it. I sat and Kent closed the door.

  “What changed?” Kent sat across from me and folded her hands on the tabletop. “And talk fast.”

  “You’ve read about the serial rapist at Sac State that was actually nineteen different guys who bought access to drugged girls?”

  “Yes. How did you get mixed up in that?”

  “Nate and I were called in so they could ask us about ketamine distribution since that’s the drug they used. Kallen and her partner were assisting on the case. Then, on Saturday night when all the arrests were made, the detectives needed me and Nate to gain access to a few frat parties.”

  “And with the high volume of arrests, there was a high volume of witnesses.”

  “Yep. So we are compromised and I guess they decided to let us go.”

  “What are you not telling me? Police departments aren’t known for letting CIs go so easily.”

  “Do you actually want to know?”

  Kent sighed. “Yes, but only because I want to be prepared for any legal ramifications you’re not seeing.”

  “Oof. Okay. Kallen and I have been romantically involved since the start of summer.”

  She groaned and shook her head. “God, Cash, why?”

  I shrugged. “I love her?”

  “So she convinced her superiors to release you as a result of your romantic relationship?”

  “Yeah. So that definitely won’t have any legal ramifications. It’s fine.”

  Kent blinked slowly and visibly restrained herself. “Just for my own peace of mind, I do need to tell you that’s untrue. There are a number of potential legal ramifications.”

  I grinned. “I know. And you’ve done your duty in informing me.”

  She flipped through the paperwork Laurel had given her. “The good news is, she appears to love you back.”

  “I kind of already knew that.”

  “This deal is beautiful. Pure charity.”

  “Walton is like her mother’s best friend.”

  “Her mom is Judge Kallen, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah. And I got to tell you, she’s kind of an asshole.”

  “Judge Kallen is an asshole?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Got it.” Kent shook her head. “Well, I recommend you take this deal. I also suggest that you stay far away from any drug dealing.”

  “Okay.”

  “All right.” She gathered the paperwork and stood.

  When we emerged into the hallway, Nate and his lawyer were sitting with Laurel. They all stood. Laurel guided us down the hallway to a larger conference room. Walton stood when we entered. The man did love his ill-fitting beige suits. We sat around the table, this time with far fewer cops, which made me a lot more comfortable. Walton pontificated a bit, called Laurel approximately four different pet names, then let us sign a bunch of forms. It was unremarkable in every way. Ten minutes later, we were out front, blinking in the sunshine.

  “Is that it?” Nate asked.

  I shrugged. “I guess so.”

  “What are we supposed to do now?”

  “Not deal drugs, that’s for sure.”

  “Good call.” Nate held up his hand for a high five. “You’re so smart.”

  I smacked his hand. “I know.”

  “Are you going to tell me the actual story behind your black eye?”

  “Yeah. But later.” I heard the door open behind me. I turned in time to see Laurel walk out. She shook her sunglasses open and slid them on.

  “You ready to go?” she asked.

  “Yep.”

  Nate hugged me briefly. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Yeah, man.” I squeezed him back.

  I followed Laurel to her truck. “This is weird. We don’t need to pretend there’s a case to discuss for me to ask you to stay over tonight.”

  She laughed, but it seemed restrained. “Yeah. We’re not breaking any rules. Does that take the fun out of it?”

  “I was never into you because it broke the rules. I’m not even a rule breaker.”

  “Right.” She arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m not. I just disagree with certain rules. I never break rules I believe in.”

  “Yeah, that’s fair.”

  We drove back to my place with the windows cracked and the heater cranked. Laurel’s jacket was unbuttoned. The end of her tie fluttered in the air moving through the truck. She put her elbow up on the door and draped her other arm over the steering wheel. The stance pulled her jacket farther open. I realized she wasn’t wearing her shoulder holster. The jacket was probably tailored without the holster. I wondered if her gun was at her ankle or somewhere on her waist I couldn’t see.

  She seemed relaxed. More so than I’d ever seen her. But there was also a tension around her, a reticence. I wondered how much of her odd mood was relief that our relationship probably couldn’t get her fired and how much was fear that we might need to acknowledge that our relationship was real.

  “You okay?” I finally asked.

  She gave a curt nod. “Yeah. Fine.” She took a deep breath. “There’s still some stuff we need to talk about.”

  “Okay.”

  She pulled up in front of my house. “Let’s go inside.”

  Inside, we moved around each other. I kicked off my boots and took off my sweater. Laurel shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on a kitchen chair. The dress shirt pulled tight across her shoulders. She rolled her sleeves with a series of practiced movements. I sat on the couch. Nickels came out to say hi and immediately ran off. Laurel handed me a beer.

  “You okay? You seem subdued. You realize all this is a good thing, right?” I asked.

  She forced a smile. “It is.”

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  She sat next to me. “I’m leaving.”

  “What do you mean?” I grinned stupidly.

  “I quit this morning. I told Ionescu I couldn’t be a cop anymore.”

  “Okay. That’s a big decision.”

  “It is, but it was inevitable. I quit this summer when I fell in love with you.” She picked at the label on her bottle. It was a nervous tic unlike her. “I compromised myself. I’ve made so many decisions since then that were about you or me or us that a year ago would have been about being a cop.”

  “Do you blame me for my role in that?” I asked, afraid of the answer, but more afraid of not knowing.

  “No. Never.”

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  “What I did to Benson, I don’t want to be that kind of cop. I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

  “So don’t beat people up.”

  She shook her head. “I crossed a line that I can’t uncross. Maybe someone else could, but not me.”

  “Okay. That’s good then.” I grinned. Both of us released from Sac PD in one day. It was more than I’d dared hope for.

  “It is good, but I’m not just leavi
ng the department. I’m leaving everything. I put in notice on my apartment. I’m leaving Sac,” she said. I didn’t understand. “I need to know who I am when I’m not a cop.”

  “How does that translate to leaving Sacramento?”

  She shrugged. “This city has always been steeped in law enforcement for me. My parents, my family. I can’t move on here.”

  “And me? I’m in this city.”

  “I can’t be with you.”

  Well, that was it. I stood and walked across the room, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere that didn’t have her. “That’s bullshit.”

  “Maybe.”

  “No, it is. You’re running away. Finding yourself doesn’t require a new city, it just requires you. Location is irrelevant.”

  She shrugged and held her shoulders up, tight. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know?” I shouted.

  “I’m sorry. If I knew, I wouldn’t need to do this.” She set down her beer and scooted forward to the edge of the couch. “You have such conviction. I don’t always understand it or agree with it, but it’s real and tangible and defensible. I am so envious of that.”

  “So read a philosophy book.” I was angry. Distantly, I was aware that I wasn’t handling this well. But it was really, really distant.

  “It’s not that simple. My entire moral code is constructed with law at the center. You’ve shown me how shortsighted that is, but I can’t borrow your morality or someone else’s. That would just be a stopgap.”

  “Leaving is selfish as fuck.”

  “It is, but I need to start fresh.” She laced her fingers together. Her joints went white as she pressed her hands together. “You were right when you said Lane’s trauma would be traumatic for me. I didn’t understand then, but I see now how much it fucked me up. I need to deal with that, which means being strong enough to leave, being strong enough to choose myself.”

  “Don’t dress this up like it’s some grand journey. We broke each other’s hearts and still managed to build a solid relationship.” Or I thought it was until about ten minutes ago. “I love you so fucking much. You love me. It’s simple.”

  “Please, Cash, don’t.” She refused to drop her eye contact with me even as tears gathered in her eyes and spilled over.

  “Don’t what? Tell the truth?”

 

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