Love by Association

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “Not yet. But he’s going to as soon as she’s feeling better.”

  Leslie had been sedated Saturday night. And was still, by Tuesday, feeling a bit under the weather. She’d been all alone with her secret for so many years, having to see the Smyths without letting on what David Jr. had done to her.

  But she’d known who his father’s friends were. She’d known that it would be his word against hers. She’d been humiliated and embarrassed. And afraid what people would think of her.

  Later, after Julie had told her what he’d done to her, and she’d seen him get away with it, she’d known she did the right thing to remain quiet. And yet, had felt the guilt of her silence in terms of Julie’s rape. Leslie also knew that if she told James, he’d lose his mind over not being able to do anything about it. And she’d been afraid of what he would do.

  She was going to be getting help for her “accidents.” The hope being that now that she’d finally told the truth about what had happened, she could begin to see that it hadn’t been her fault. And that she could stop punishing herself.

  Plus, she was joining one of the counseling groups at The Lemonade Stand.

  The alarms sent up by Ryder’s collage had a three-fold effect. First, he’d overheard his mother having a breakdown one night with his dad and knew she’d been hurt in a really bad way at some point. Second, he’d heard his father mention getting his baseball bat out again—and had been reminded of the fact that his father would never play ball with him. And then third, he’d been frightened by all of the accidents his mother kept having. Which had come out when the family had gone to a therapist together the day before.

  It was Chantel’s turn. She cleared her pile. Won the game. And asked Colin and Julie how they felt about chocolate ice cream.

  * * *

  COLIN PRETENDED THAT life was as per usual on Wednesday. He got up. Alone. Got dressed. Had breakfast with his sister. Drove to the office and went to work. He participated in meetings. Had a lengthy lunch that netted him a new million-dollar account. He went to a court hearing and closed on a seven-figure real-estate deal.

  And every five minutes or so he glanced at his smart watch. Not to keep track of upcoming appointments. Or the time. But to see if he’d had a text from Chantel. Or about Chantel.

  He didn’t hear from her at all that day, or that night, either.

  Nor on Thursday.

  As a friend, the least she could have done was let him know that she was safely home from her first couple of days back on the job.

  Or had he now been relegated to one of those people who’d one day, out of the blue, get a call telling him someone he’d once known had been killed?

  When Paul Reynolds showed up on his caller ID late Thursday afternoon, his heart stopped. Was he getting that call already? The one he was going to prevent by not marrying her?

  “Paul? What’s up?” he asked, motioning his assistant out of his office with the door closed behind her.

  “I’d like a meeting with you, if at all possible,” the commissioner said.

  “Has something happened to Chantel?”

  “What? No.” A pause on the line followed. “No, I’m sorry, Colin. I failed to see how this might appear. As far as I know, she’s on the street doing her job. She’s one our most exemplary officers, by the way.” He went on to give Chantel a glowing review that Colin didn’t need to hear.

  He didn’t want to hear it. He would rather not think of her on the job.

  “I need a meeting with you on another matter,” Paul said. “Today, if possible.”

  He’d had his last scheduled appointment for the day.

  “Name the time and place,” he said and then agreed to meet the commissioner at a beach bar half an hour down the coast.

  He knew what that meant.

  * * *

  COLIN HAD SAID he couldn’t be in a relationship with a cop. She knew he’d meant it. Still, she’d thought he’d call—at least once—to make sure she was still alive. She thought about texting him. About a hundred times a day. But she didn’t want to rub it in that she was out on the streets risking her life without him there to protect her.

  She’d had her off-duty weapon in plain view in her apartment. Had it concealed in her purse at his house, but he’d known it was there. He’d seen her put it there, and he hadn’t said a word about it. Period. Hadn’t asked how many times she’d had to shoot it during the line of duty.

  Hadn’t asked her if she’d ever killed someone.

  She hadn’t. But she knew she wouldn’t hesitate to do so if she had to. As she prepared to go on shift Thursday afternoon, Wayne stopped by and told her the captain wanted to see her.

  Following him to the interrogation room where the three of them had met before she’d gone under, she felt like she’d come full circle.

  Everything had changed in the past five weeks.

  And nothing had.

  “Sit down, Chantel,” Captain Reagan said. Wayne was already doing so. The captain, in a suit and tie, like Wayne, sat last.

  “I wanted to give you an update on David Smyth Jr.,” the captain began.

  She nodded and heard how, after speaking with his counsel, he’d agreed to plead guilty to fourteen counts of rape—with a mandatory prison sentence of not less than twenty-five years, and could be as much as seventy-five, depending on further investigation and a decision from the court.

  “Wow,” she said, starting to smile. “So no one will have to testify?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “But...” Something else was going on. She saw the look Wayne exchanged with the captain, and her stomach dropped.

  “In exchange for that, for the fact that he’s going away—to a minimum security prison for people of money, and to do so without a trial that would necessitate victim testimony and could cost the state up to a million dollars or more—this stays out of the press. Victims aren’t named. His wife and kids and family are protected from the scandal...”

  Right. Fine. Get to it. The guys knew she didn’t give a hoot about what kind of prison he was in as long as he was in it. And that she also would be fine with this happening in a way that ensured his family—also innocent victims of his crimes—would not have to suffer.

  “And they want you and Wayne to let the rest of this drop.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We’re aware that you know of the deal made between the Smyths, and the Fairbankses, involving certain representatives of this department.”

  Wayne gave her one glance. A pleading look.

  And she understood.

  “You want me to ignore the fact that Paul Reynolds was party to letting a rapist live among his own friends? That he let the man continue to harass and brutalize possible wives and daughters of his friends?”

  “He didn’t know, Chantel,” Wayne said. “I mean, he knew about the situation with Julie. He’d been told it had started out mutual, and then when Julie didn’t like it, it went bad. That, at the most, it was excessive force on a date. The commissioner wasn’t even present when they went to Julie and made the offer to let it drop and save her reputation. He was presented with a done deal. And saw no reason to ruin a promising young man’s career, to drag a young girl’s reputation through the mud, because of a date gone bad. He had no idea there were others.”

  “There were medical records,” Chantel said. “Details that make me sick to my stomach. You want me to believe that he didn’t know about them? They just disappeared all by themselves?”

  “He says he didn’t know,” Captain Reagan said, his face as serious as she’d ever seen it.

  “They’re willing to offer you any job you want in the department, Chantel. You’ve more than proven yourself. You’d already passed the investigators’ exam before you transferred up here. You
name your job, and it’s yours.”

  For three days she’d been trying to push away the idea of moving to a desk job. She was good at investigating. And maybe if Julie’s case had come across her desk, she’d have been able to see to it that her friend received justice. One day back on the job and she already knew that she wasn’t going to be able to be in a relationship with Colin and work the street.

  Not just because he was shutting her out, but because he hadn’t called.

  She couldn’t work the job because all day yesterday she’d been aware of that fact that, if she got hurt, it would hurt Colin. As much or more than Max had been hurt when Jill had died.

  Maybe even as much as he’d hurt when Meri had been missing.

  She couldn’t do that to him.

  The truth was, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to do it to herself. She was almost thirty-three years old. She’d lived a lot of her life—most of it—with only a best friend for family.

  For the first time since she was fourteen, she was beginning to feel like part of a family. She didn’t want to risk losing that by dying on the job.

  She just might have too much to live for.

  “And David Smyth Sr...he gets off even though he helped his son get away with rape?”

  “He didn’t know, either, Chantel. He’d been told exactly what the commissioner was told. Other than that, he was present during the negotiations with Julie and Colin.”

  “He threatened and blackmailed them,” she said.

  “He thought he was protecting his son from the horrible consequences of a date gone very wrong.”

  “It was a party. Not a date.”

  “Julie was David’s date for the party.”

  She might have known that. She couldn’t remember at the moment. Couldn’t think. And it didn’t really matter if she’d been his date or not. Or even if they’d been at a party. What mattered was justice for Julie.

  “James Morrison has already agreed to let this go,” Reagan said next. “It’s best for Leslie’s recovery if they just move forward.”

  “The commissioner’s a good guy, Chantel,” Wayne said. “Something like this...it would ruin his life. And Patricia’s, too.”

  But what about the lives that were ruined because he’d believed a friend and turned a blind eye to all of this? Someone had allowed those charges to not just be dropped, but to disappear out of the system as though they’d never been filed.

  Someone had destroyed the medical report sent over by Dr. Albertson—who’d left the hospital soon after that.

  And a cop was on a fishing boat in Florida, too.

  “Someone went to a lot of work to conceal tracks for something that no one thought was more than a date gone bad,” she said aloud.

  “Think about what you’re doing, Chantel.”

  She was thinking. But she didn’t need to. Her gut had already made her decision for her.

  “I’m not a person who can benefit my own skin at the cost of others,” she said. “We don’t even know how many victims Smyth has. Nor do we know who they are or what they want. We have no idea the extent of damage that was done, the lives that were irrevocably changed, because the commissioner didn’t do his job.”

  “Think of all your fellow officers, Chantel. The ones who come to work every day and give everything to the job. You try to make a stink here, it’s going to make every one of us smell.”

  Wayne was clearly going to sign. Morrison was on board. Colin and Julie had already agreed, ten years before, to remain silent.

  Chantel didn’t have a chance in hell of accomplishing anything here but getting herself fired.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, standing. “I took an oath. I watched my friend die for that oath. I’ve been willing every single day to die for that oath. I am not going to tarnish that by agreeing to this. I’m sorry.”

  They’d find a reason to get rid of her. She didn’t doubt that. Just as she knew that she’d move on. Just as she’d moved out of New York. She couldn’t work for a corrupt leader, nor could she let this go.

  She’d do everything in her power to expose what had happened in Santa Raquel without hurting the victims any more than was necessary. Because if the corruption didn’t stop, nor would the number of its victims stop growing.

  And if she failed?

  There were police departments everywhere.

  She cared about the job.

  So someplace she’d get it done.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  “SO YOU SEE, Colin, all we need is an assurance of your continued cooperation and this should all be behind us.”

  “Morrison’s already signed on?” Colin had ordered a bourbon straight but hadn’t taken a sip of it.

  “You’re getting what you wanted. David Smyth Jr. will be behind bars for a very long time. Julie won’t have to testify. She’s back in society with no one knowing what happened to her. Smyth’s wife and kids are protected...”

  “Your job is protected,” Colin added. “And Patricia is saved from humiliation and a possible change in fortune.”

  The man’s brow furrowed. “I’m not proud of turning a blind eye to what happened ten years ago, Colin. You have to know I truly believed it was a date gone bad.”

  “But you didn’t look at the facts, Paul, did you? And let me save you from a lie here. Because if you’d even looked at the doctor’s emergency room report, you’d have known it was more than that.”

  He stopped short of describing Julie’s injuries to the other man. But only to protect his sister.

  “Julie would want you to let this go.” Paul hit him where it counted most, as men of power usually did. “She’s got her life back. Let her have it.”

  He’d like to think he’d learned a thing or two in ten years. But Colin was tempted to swallow the bile in his throat and do as the commissioner asked.

  “You have my word that anything you want, or need, anytime—I’m your man.”

  He’d be one of the most powerful men in the area. Powerful men could get a lot of good done.

  “What happens to Chantel?”

  “She’s being offered the job of her choice within the department. She’s a great cop. And will make a great leader within the force, too. I look forward to many years of having her on my team.”

  “She’s agreed to that?”

  “I’m sure she has. They were meeting with her this afternoon. I’d have heard if there was a problem.”

  Johnson might have agreed to the deal. To protect others.

  He had to believe that Reynolds was bluffing on that one.

  Harris would never agree to it. She knew that hiding, pretending that pain didn’t exist, hurt more than anything else.

  If she’d been a woman who would take a deal, she’d never have fought for Julie in the first place.

  She’d had his back even when he hadn’t known she had it. His and Julie’s. She’d risked her life for them.

  And who had her back?

  Ever?

  “I’m sorry, Paul, but I can’t do as you’re asking. Julie and I have already spoken about going public with this. And if Chantel wants to pursue the matter, she will have our full support.”

  Paul Reynolds stood so quickly he knocked the table onto two legs. It teetered and fell back to place. “You’ll regret this.”

  “Possibly. But I don’t think so. I’m willing to consider another deal with you, Paul. One I’m sure I can get Chantel to agree to.”

  “And that is?”

  “You resign. For whatever reason you deem appropriate. Pack up your things and go quietly, and you go with your reputation intact.”

  Paul’s thrumming fingers on the table was the tell he’d needed. “And one other thing,” he said, doing not half-bad on the fly.


  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll want the names of anyone else in the Santa Raquel Police Department who had any involvement in allowing criminals to run free.” He was thinking like Harris.

  And he didn’t hate the feeling.

  “I’m not going to...”

  “Think about it, Paul. Julie and I plan to have something ready for the press by the end of the week.”

  “Give me through the weekend. I need to speak with Patricia.”

  Colin stood. Held out his hand. When Paul shook it, he knew he’d won. The commissioner would be a fool to refuse him. He came from money and had enough of it from the investments he’d inherited to live in style for the rest of his life. He also was in a perfect position to crawl farther up the political ladder—as long as there was no scandal attached to him.

  “Oh, and one other thing, Paul,” he said as the two of them were walking out together.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s about Patricia. Just out of curiosity, why was she suddenly showing up on every committee Julie was on?”

  He had the man dead to rights then.

  “Because you two were worried that, with the new information surfacing about the Morrisons, Julie and Leslie together might decide to revisit the past?”

  “I’ll make an announcement and give you those names by Sunday,” Paul said and strode away.

  * * *

  CHANTEL WAS SITTING with Wayne in the interrogation room, listening to him talk about all of the reasons why she needed to rethink her position, when Captain Reagan came back to the door.

  “Chantel? There’s someone here to see you.”

  “Who is it?” she asked, but the captain had already turned away. He was not happy with her. Yet she had the impression that he wasn’t all that unhappy with her, either. Captain Reagan was a good man. Maybe she’d have an ally in him somewhere down the road.

  Still in uniform, though she’d been off shift more than an hour, she rose. Wayne made good points. She respected him.

  But she wasn’t going to change her mind.

  She also had no idea what she was going to do. Taking down the police commissioner without any help was not going to be easy.