Rogue Alliance

by Michelle Bellon

  In the safety of her apartment, alone in the quiet, she sank onto the living room floor. The idea of a drink was no longer appealing. The concept of waking up the next day and reporting in to work as she’d said she would was not a thought that seemed viable. Everything seemed too monumental of a task in her current state. The fatigue was the only thing that seemed real. She just wanted to close her eyes and go to sleep for a very, very long time.

  When she closed them, her eyes began to sting. They burned as her tired heart burned. Tears of her failures, her sins, and her ugliness poured forth. For once, she didn’t fight it off or push the emotion aside. She dove into its depths. Sobs, powerful and alive, wracked her body. She opened up to its torrential downpour.

  THIRTY-THREE

  “Hey. Hey. What are you doing still in bed?” Carmen asked, shaking Shyla’s shoulder, “it’s two in the afternoon. Wake up, lazy butt.”

  “I’m not sleeping,” Shyla groaned, pulling the covers over her head, “I’m just refusing to get out of bed. Now go away and leave me alone.”

  “But I have to talk to you.”

  “I don’t want to talk. It’s Sunday. I just want to pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Now if you don’t mind, you can show yourself out the door. How did you get in anyway?”

  “The door was unlocked. I walked in. You should really lock your doors,” Carmen said before the expression on her face suddenly shifted, “Oh my god! What happened to your neck? Are you okay?”

  “Yes. No. I’m fine. Damn it, Carmen, why are you always in my face with a million questions?”

  Carmen was oblivious to Shyla’s attitude.

  “It looks like you were choked. Did someone attack you? Should I call 911?”

  With a roll of her eyes Shyla tossed the covers aside and rolled out of bed.

  “No,” she said, “and for god’s sake, don’t call anyone. I told you, I’m fine. I just have to pee.”

  She stomped into the bathroom and closed the door. The bruising around her throat did look nasty. The blue and purple was now bordered with a yellowish tint as healing began.

  She flushed the toilet and washed her hands then marched out in only a long t-shirt and underwear and slid back into the warmth of her bed. Carmen reached down and picked up an empty tequila bottle off the floor.

  “Did you drink this whole thing?”

  “Not all at once. Why are you still here?”

  “Jeez, Shyla, you have bruises all over. What happened to you? I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”

  Shyla sighed and sat up against the headboard.

  “Fine,” she said, “you wanna know what happened? I’ll tell you. I’m a cop. Not a secretary. A cop. I moved here to work on a case. That case went completely sideways and now I’m off the case. Meanwhile, I got tangled up with some crooked people and got beat the hell up. I shouldn’t even be telling you this. But you aren’t going to let up until I do, so what the hell. I’m leaving town next week anyway.”

  Panic seized Carmen’s young features. She plopped on the side of the bed.

  “You’re moving?”

  Shyla averted her gaze.

  “But you can’t leave,” Carmen continued, “I don’t care if you are really a cop! You can’t leave. Who cares about the case? You can do other cop stuff here. You don’t have to move.”

  “I have to get out of this town,” Shyla sighed, “I failed here. Twice, now. I have bad mojo here.”

  “I want you around. Please don’t give up, Shyla,” Carmen pleaded, “please don’t leave. You still have to teach me kung fu.”

  The look on Carmen’s face was burdensome.

  “You said you needed to talk to me,” Shyla said, “what did you want to talk about?”

  “Um, oh, yeah,” Carmen said, blinking, “my mom wanted to invite you over for dinner later this week. I think you freaked her out the other day and she just wants to show you that she’s a good person.”

  “Invite me for dinner?” Shyla laughed, “That’s the last thing I expected.”

  “Come on. You could just come for a while. My mom never invites anyone over. Maybe this will change…I don’t know…maybe things will be different now.”

  Shyla shook her head.

  “I don’t know. I’ve got a lot going on. I need to get my life back on track.”

  “Well, you don’t have to make up your mind right now. Just think about it.”

  It was a lot to ask, but Shyla couldn’t refuse her.

  “Okay, I’ll think about it. What’cha got in the bag there?”

  Carmen looked down at the bag she had hanging from her left hand as if surprised it was there.

  “Oh. Yeah. I brought you some doughnuts.”

  Shyla cocked an eyebrow.

  “Doughnuts? You brought me doughnuts in the middle of the afternoon?”

  “Yep. They’re my favorite; the powdery ones with raspberry filling. I’ve been thinking about them all day so on the way over, I stopped by the mini-mart and grabbed a box. I thought you might like one.”

  “Did you pay for them?”

  Carmen looked insulted.

  “Of course I paid for them. Jeez.”

  Shyla held up her hands.

  “Okay, okay, just asking. You know, I just happen to love a good doughnut. Hand over the bag and go get us some milk.”

  With a gleaming grin, Carmen rushed out of the bedroom. Shyla felt a small smile creep on her face. What was it about this girl that made her so soft? As of an hour ago, her mind was made up that she would resign first thing Monday morning. She would face the music, pack up and start a new life somewhere she’d never been before.

  Now, she was already promising a thirteen year old girl that she’d think about sticking around. She bit into the soft, powdery doughnut as Carmen returned with two full mason jars of milk.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  “Shawn.”

  “Yeah, this is Shawn. Is that you, Shyla?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Hey, listen. Can you give me a ride to work this morning? My car won’t start.”

  “Yeah, of course. Hey, are you okay? I dropped by your place on Saturday, but there was no answer. I’ve been worried.”

  “I just needed some time, Shawn. But I’m okay, now. So how long before you get here? I want to stop at the espresso stand.”

  “Uh, sure, give me ten minutes. I was just about to walk out the door anyway.”

  Shyla hung up and finished cleaning up the kitchen. Up since four-thirty, she’d been cleaning up the apartment. Over the course of the past few weeks, she’d neglected her place and it showed.

  After Carmen left, she’d slept off the booze. When she woke up around five, she had wanted a drink. But she refused to give in to the craving. Not only did she not want to leave the apartment, she wanted to be sober for the night. She’d avoided reality for far too long. It was time to think clearly and make a decision about her future.

  The instinct to run away from all of it was strong. But that’s what she had always done. She’d shirked away from her dad all her life, but didn’t fight him off until that one day when she finally snapped. She and her mother never really acknowledged what was going on, even though it was a big, sore thumb in their lives at every moment. Even after the incident, she tucked away all the shame and dove into her books. When she graduated, she moved away and buried her sorrow with work. She kept partners at a distance with sharp sarcasm and she couldn’t remember having ever made any close friends. Running away and burying her head in the sand was what she was really good at. Now, she had to decide if that was how she was going to handle this situation.

  Distraught and agitated, she finally drifted off to sleep around midnight. Just over four hours later, she woke up, surprisingly alert and clear headed. Suddenly she knew what she would do. It wasn’t even a question anymore. It just was.

  She would stay. Like Carmen had asked, she wouldn’t give up. But she was going to do things her way.

  She closed
the dishwasher and pressed start. There was a knock at the front door.

  Grabbing her gun and badge, she headed toward the door. She wasn’t under cover anymore.

  “Good morning.”

  Shawn’s blonde hair looked a bit disheveled and he had a strung out look in his eyes. She imagined he hadn’t been sleeping well either.

  “Morning,” he said, “you ready?”

  “Yep, let’s go.”

  Once in the mustang, she went for it.

  “I lied. My car is running just fine.”

  His glance was quick and uneasy.

  “Um, okay.”

  “I just wanted you to give me a ride.”

  “Well you didn’t have to lie to get a ride,” he said, “I would have given you one anyway.”

  “Yeah, I figured, but…well, it just seemed easier to lie at the time. Listen, we need to talk. If we’re going to work together then we need to get this thing that’s between us out in the open.”

  “Thing, what thing?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, Shawn. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but the first few weeks after we met, you acted like you couldn’t stand me. Then out of the blue, you walk into my apartment, kiss me, and walk back out.”

  He opened his mouth to say something.

  “Nope, nope,” Shyla interrupted, “just let me finish. We need to establish some boundaries if we’re going to work together. Now, it doesn’t really matter how I feel about you or how you feel about me, but we both know that as long as we’re working on a case together, we have to keep it professional.”

  “But you’re off the case.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah, well, that’s a matter of opinion. That was decided to keep me safe. I expect now that my cover is fully blown, it won’t be an issue anymore anyway. So, it can only be assumed that you and I will continue to work together.”

  “So, how do you feel about me?” Shawn asked.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Shyla sighed, “I mean, you’ve been kind of jerk most of the time and, if you haven’t noticed, I’ve been pretty preoccupied lately.”

  “How’s your neck?”

  So he was changing the subject. She squelched the reflex to touch the area in question.

  “It hurts to swallow. But I’m fairly tough. Nothing’s damaged beyond repair.”

  Shawn slammed his palm against the steering wheel and his face reddened. “Dammit,” he said, “I just want to have a few moments alone with that guy, without his bodyguard and without guns, just fists.”

  Shyla reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “Look, Shawn, I appreciate it, but ‘that guy’ will get what’s coming to him eventually.”

  “Yeah, well, I wish you would have let me arrest him the other night.”

  “Why would I do that when I’m going to do it myself later this afternoon?”

  *

  Shawn held the door open for Shyla when they arrived at the department.

  Her entrance raised a few eyebrows amongst the staff as they took note that she was wearing jeans and a button down shirt as opposed to her secretarial garb of slacks and a blouse. She even caught the sound of a gasp as someone noticed the hue of color encircling her neck. Either that or they had eyeballed the gun on her hip. She couldn’t be sure which.

  Bypassing everyone, she headed straight for Hal’s office.

  “Good, you’re here,” he said waving her in. He was on the phone and looked distracted. When his eyes lit on her they widened in alarm. “Oh, hey, I’m going to have to call you back. Holy shit, Shyla. When did this happen?”

  She closed the door and stood with hands on her hips.

  “I want back on the case. The cover is blown wide open. From now on, I’m a cop, I work like a cop, and we take this from a whole new angle; straight on.

  “First things first, though, take my statement and take some pictures,” she said, pointing to her throat, “I’m done playing cat and mouse. I’m gonna arrest this son-of-bitch. They’ll let him go, but we’ll just stay on his ass and arrest him at every opportunity. One of these days we’ll get something so big that no one will be able to fight against it. He’s going down eventually.”

  *

  Shyla’s cell phone rang as she was climbing into the front of the police cruiser. There was no way she was going to make the arrest without the guys by her side. They wouldn’t have it and, truth be told, neither would she. Who knew how Victor would react?

  “Hello, this is Shyla.”

  “How are you doing?” Brennan’s voice was oddly comforting.

  She glanced at Shawn in the driver’s seat, then back to the road.

  “Funny you should ask, I’m on my way out to your place. I have a warrant for your friend’s arrest.”

  The line was silent.

  “You shouldn’t do this,” Brenna said, “it’s a waste of time.”

  “Well, you know, I’m a sucker for abuse and I got nothing better to do, so what the hell.”

  “Listen, I…I wanted to check on you and…well, I just wanted to say, that I appreciate your help the other night.”

  Again, Shyla sneaked a glance toward Shawn. Uncomfortable with the turn in conversation, she tucked the cell phone tighter to her chin.

  “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. It was a bad decision on my part, but seeing as you helped me out last Friday, I figure we’re even now, so let’s just agree to move forward, keep it simple.”

  “Fine,” Brennan said, “we’ve been expecting that you’d pay us a visit today. We’ll see you in a bit.”

  There was a small click in her ear. The confidence that Shyla had been relying upon all morning was waning fast. Brennan’s stoic, quiet, manner was always unsettling. Everything about him was. The hardest part was that no matter how she tried to be indifferent toward him, it was impossible. They knew each other’s secrets, and they’d protected each other. They may be even, but nothing about their dynamic was simple.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Knowing that Shawn and Jason were standing a few feet back as she knocked on Victor’s door didn’t ease her anxiety. It was creeping in and causing her to rethink the decision to personally follow through with his arrest. She was resistant to the idea of looking into his face again, but it was inevitable.

  The large oak door swung open. Brennan stared down at her. Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered their kiss.

  There was a look in his eye that she’d not seen before. Respect? She wasn’t sure.

  “Hello, Shyla.”

  A flash of color in the background shifted her focus. Victor stepped forward, nudging Brennan to the side. The crazed maniac that she’d witnessed the Friday before was gone, replaced by his cool, charming veneer.

  He broke into a wide, mocking grin.

  “Well hello, Gorgeous,” he drawled, “I’ve been waiting for you all morning. I see you brought your friends.”

  He jutted out his hands, locking his wrists together.

  “Well, come on then, let’s get this show on the road. I’ve already called my lawyer. I want to be home within the next few days. I’ve got stuff to do.”

  His cavalier, pompous attitude grated on her nerves. It was difficult not to put a hand to her throat in response to his voice. She could still feel the way the scarf had bit into her flesh and cut off her airway. She’d thought she’d die that night. Thanks to Brennan, she lived to see this day.

  “I see you’re on your best behavior today, Victor. That’s fine. It makes my job a lot easier. I have a warrant here for your arrest. You have the right to remain silent…”

  *

  “I hear you arrested Victor today.”

  Shyla detected the underlying frustration in Eli Straton’s tone. She’d heard it many times in the past when she’d stretched boundaries and avoided authority. She closed the door to Hal’s office where he’d said she could make the call.

  “Yep. The warran
t was issued and I made the arrest within the hour. I know you’re mad because I didn’t call you first, but I had my reasons.”

  “I don’t have a problem with you making the arrest, Shyla. Hal made that call, and from what I’ve learned over the last few minutes from my conversation with him, it was more than valid.

  “My problem lies with all of the other subordinate activities you’ve pulled lately. Let’s see, I believe it starts with you going into that warehouse, unarmed and alone. Then when Hal and I established that your cover was no longer stable and we pulled you from the case, you decided to go through with an under-cover rendezvous anyway, without surveillance, or protection, or any notification to anyone on the inside for that matter, to ensure your safety.

  “As a result, you were nearly strangled to death, except by some miracle, Victor’s body guard shows up and saves your life. Does any of this ring a goddamn bell, Shyla? Cause by all means, correct me if I’m wrong.”

  Shyla gritted her teeth. She hated being chastised, especially by someone she respected and looked up to.

  “I’m not going to waste your time trying to explain why I went out to Victor’s that night,” she said, “all I can say is that I made a bad decision. I can’t really say that I regret it, because we now have even more evidence against him to build our case on.”

  “Jesus, Shyla, do you even hear yourself right now? You’re doing what you always do; you’re trying to demonstrate how your recalcitrant behavior should actually be rewarded because there may possibly be a positive result despite all the risks you took and rules you broke. Well knock it off. I’ve had it. I’ve put up with your antics for long enough because underneath all that mess, you’re a dang good detective and I like you. But when I get photos of you on my scanner that show you black and blue with strangulation marks around your neck, I reach my limits. You should have obeyed orders.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  There was a moment of heavy silence. She waited.