by G. K. Parks
“You’re not coming?” she asked.
“No, I have some things to take care of. Mr. Almeada will meet you at the apartment and help you get settled. You have my new number should anything arise.”
She nodded, though I could see she wanted to argue. “You better call me tomorrow.”
I grinned. “When did you get so bossy?”
“I’m serious.”
“Okay.” I opened the car door and waited for her to slide inside. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Shutting the door, I tapped on the side of the cab and stared at the rental car. That was another waste. But I could use it in the interim, while my car remained at the office.
I trudged up the stairs and let myself back inside. Then I cleaned the apartment, so no one would ever know Jade had been here. Unfortunately, I couldn’t erase the memories of the two police officers who had knocked on the door the other morning, but they never got her name. So I didn’t concern myself too much with that aspect of damage control.
When I finished, I went to the nearest electronics store and stocked up on the basics. It took a couple of hours to jerry-rig the security system with the sensors and pinhole cameras I bought. After checking to make sure the wireless signal was strong and the footage was automatically backed up to my cloud drive, I left the apartment. If anyone dropped by the apartment, I would know about it.
Should Scott discover this apartment, he’d stop by, just like my office and the rest of the properties I rented or owned. He knew I had her, and he’d do anything to get her back. In the event he came after Jade, I wanted proof to bury him.
On my way home, I couldn’t help but notice every police car on the road. Call it paranoia or healthy observation, but until now, patrol cars had never made me nervous. Now they did. Shake it off, Cross. The last thing I needed was Scott Renwin getting in my head.
I parked in my normal space and greeted the doorman. “Anything going on I should know about?”
“No, sir.”
“Okay.” I reached into my pocket, palming a few bills before extending my hand. We shook. “Should the police show up, I’d appreciate advanced notice.”
He grinned, tucking the money into his pocket without looking at it. “Now what have you done, Mr. Cross? Are you a wanted man?”
“Do you think I’d tell you if I was?” I grinned. “I’ll leave the details up to your imagination.”
“Very good, sir.”
As soon as I stepped foot inside my apartment, I checked my security system. No one had entered or lurked in the hallways outside my door, not that I believed Scott could gain access to my building with anything less than a valid warrant, but I didn’t intend to underestimate him. He found the tracker, and he’d been smart enough to sedate himself for court. Clearly, he wasn’t stupid or as stupid as his face led me to believe.
Even though my apartment and the one I rented for Jade remained secure, I had trouble sleeping that night. The conversation with Scott played on a loop in my head. Did he honestly think I’d give Jade up for a few bucks? Idly, I wondered what he planned to do when she went back to work. Based on our conversation, he seemed determined to violate the terms of the TRO the first chance he got, but Mr. Almeada believed that might be a knee-jerk reaction to the proceedings. Most people wanted to confront their accusers and, in the case of domestic abuse, knock some sense into them as well. The thought sickened me. Maybe tomorrow would be better. But I was wrong.
Twenty
When I left my apartment the next morning, a cruiser pulled behind me. It didn’t flash its lights or siren, and even when I switched lanes to let it pass, it stayed behind me. It stayed on me all the way to the coffee shop.
I stopped at the café I frequented most mornings, expecting the patrolman to follow me inside. But he didn’t. At least not right away. I ordered my usual and paid for a second cappuccino with extra foam. “That’s not for me,” I said. “But when that cop comes in here, tell him Mr. Cross treated him to a cup.” I picked up the paper cup that would hold his drink and the marker and wrote on it, Blow me. Then I over-tipped the barista, bought a paper, and took a seat in the back.
Ten minutes later, when I didn’t come out, the cop came in. It wasn’t Scott, just some patrolman he ordered to follow me. The poor guy was just another pawn the sergeant used for his own twisted purposes. He should report his boss for abuse of power, and if he didn’t, I would.
By the time the cop made his way to the front of the line, the cappuccino was waiting for him. He turned in my direction, and I lifted my own cup, smirking. He read what I wrote on his coffee and glared at me. I raised a suggestive eyebrow, but the patrolman didn’t engage. Instead, he went out to his car and drove away.
An hour later, I finished my coffee and the crossword puzzle and headed to the office. Since I told everyone to stay away, it didn’t matter what time I showed up. Justin had already sent me a dozen texts concerning our new hires, our new clients, and some messages Almeada’s office had left him. Today would be another busy day.
When I arrived, I noticed my car didn’t look quite right. Parking near it, I got out to find all four of my tires slashed. Cursing, I looked up, searching for nearby security cameras. Unfortunately, the attack didn’t set off my car alarm or it’d still be beeping, which meant it was unlikely someone noticed who had done this. But I knew who was responsible. I just didn’t have proof.
Pissed, I entered the office building, spoke to building security, requested they check their footage to see if anything was caught on camera, and took the elevator up. As soon as I let myself into the office, I picked up the phone and called the police. They assured me someone was on their way. While I waited, I phoned Almeada and updated him on the situation.
“Can you prove it was Renwin?”
“I doubt it.” Unless building security performed a miracle.
“Okay. In that case, you might want to restrain yourself from pointing fingers until you have proof.”
“How’s Jade settling in?”
“She’s fine. I’m hoping to get her back to work in a couple of days. Since Renwin’s this unbalanced, I’ll have the paperwork ready ahead of time in case we need to request an emergency hearing.”
“If it comes down to that, I want the bastard behind bars.” I looked out the window, spotting a police cruiser pulling to a stop in front of my building. “Right now, I have to make a report.”
“Do you want me to stop by?”
“I can handle it.”
“Are you sure?” Almeada asked.
“Well, if I can’t, I’ll call you from lockup.”
Sgt. Scott Renwin stood beside his cruiser. I approached him, doing my best to feign surprise. But I doubted even a world-class actor could successfully pull off that feat.
“You’re a cop? I thought you worked construction.” I narrowed my eyes at the nametag tacked to his left breast. “Sgt. S. Renwin. Didn’t you say your name was Leonard Biggs?”
“Sir, we’ve never met.” Hatred poured from his eyes.
“What’s the S stand for? Shithead?”
Scott pulled a flashlight from his belt and shone it directly in my eyes, which was an asshole move, probably revenge for the shithead comment. “Have you ingested any illegal substances? Maybe you’ve been drinking?”
I glared at him. “Sorry, you must just have one of those faces. You look like this crazy bastard I met yesterday. The kind of scumbag who puts hands on a woman to make himself feel more like a man. You know, just a nobody asshole who thinks he can push people around and threaten them into doing whatever he wants.”
“Oh, so you think you’re a tough guy, Mr. Cross?”
“How do you know my name, if we haven’t met?”
“From the phone call you placed.”
“Right.” I continued to glare at him as he returned the flashlight to its rightful place on his belt.
“What seems to be the problem? I received a call about property damage.”
I pointed to
my car. “I found it like that this morning.”
“Where were you when this happened?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Scott squeezed the pen in his hand so hard it bent in half. Exhaling slowly, he crossed the street to inspect the damage. He was on edge, ready to snap just like the pen. I wanted to push him. It was daylight. With dozens of people around, one of them would pull out a phone and record an act of police brutality. As a rule, most people hated cops.
I jogged after him. “Do you know what they say about men who stab things? They’re compensating for their inability to perform in the bedroom.”
“You should watch yourself, Mr. Cross. It looks like someone blew your tires.”
“Lucky for me, that’s not the first time I’ve been blown today.”
Scott clenched his fists and stood. C’mon, hit me, I thought. His chest heaved, and he pressed himself against me. I stared expectantly at him. Waiting. Hoping. An arrogant grin plastered across my face. If I were him, I’d hit me. After ten seconds, Scott stepped back, focusing on taking down a proper account of the damage.
I placed a forearm against the roof of the car and leaned in. “Let me make one thing clear. I won’t let you lay a hand on her again. You can’t scare me, so back off. And let her go. You still have a career. You can have a life. Just leave her alone.”
Renwin stood up straight and shoved me against the car. “Is that what she told you? Because it’s a lie. I never hurt her.”
“The bruises on her body say otherwise.” I looked down at his hands still pressed against my chest. “For someone who claims he isn’t violent, your actions make that hard to believe.”
“Tell me where she is, or a few blown tires will be the least of your problems.”
“Sorry, that’s privileged information.”
“I could arrest you.”
“On what grounds?” Despite my baser instincts, I didn’t struggle or fight back. I had yet to lay a hand on Scott. Unfortunately, the bastard was smart enough to leave his bodycam off. And while suspicious and possibly a violation of police regulations, it wouldn’t prove any claims I made.
“Stalking.”
“Go ahead.”
Scott shoved me harder into the car and stepped back. He scribbled down the basis for the call and held it out for me to sign. I took the misshapen pen, signed the bottom, and grabbed the copy he thrust against my chest. “You have a good day. It might very well be your last,” he warned.
Twenty-one
I sat at my desk, steaming, as I planned a counterstrike. First things first. I had to figure out how Scott discovered Jade had come to me for help. The tracker didn’t link back to me, and after making a few calls to some friends at the precinct, I knew he hadn’t called in any favors to have the transmitted location traced. Sara swore she didn’t say a word. She also urged me to call my father.
“Daddy dearest has more important things to worry about,” I said.
“Lucien, stop being so damn stubborn. Do you have any idea the kind of hell that’ll rain down on you? Renwin is a sergeant. He could send a dozen uniforms to ruin your day.”
“In that case, I’d like to file a formal complaint.”
“Lucien,” she sighed, exasperated.
“No, I’m serious.”
She mumbled something I couldn’t hear. “You’ll have to come here to fill out the paperwork.”
“Great. I’ll stop by when I finish work for the day.”
“Fine, but think about calling your father. If you don’t, maybe I will.”
“He won’t help me. He never does. He made his choice a long time ago.” Hanging up, I brought up the list of names of people who’d filed complaints against Sgt. Renwin.
Justin had already contacted several of them. They all had similar stories. Scott bullied them, illegally searched their person or vehicle, and used excessive force. Unfortunately, most of them had records for distributing narcotics or engaging in prostitution, which lessened their complaints in the eyes of the police department. The few who didn’t failed to follow up or were told the matter was being investigated.
So I’d take a different approach. Maybe I’d go straight to IA. Scott was belligerent and unprofessional. Belligerent, that’s one word that popped up repeatedly in his fitness reports and complaints. It fit. I should check the dictionary to see if his photo was next to the definition. While I drafted what I wanted to say, a man entered the outer office.
“Knock, knock,” Almeada called. “Anyone here?”
“In my office.” I glanced up as he entered. “How’d you get inside?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Door was open.”
For a moment, I forgot I told my receptionist to take some time off. “Right.” I pushed away from the desk and rubbed my eyes. “I don’t think Scott will back off. I told him he needs to leave Jade alone. That this has to stop.”
“And?”
“I’m pretty sure he threatened to kill me.”
“Did you get it on tape?”
“No.”
“Witnesses?”
I shook my head.
“Did you threaten him first?”
“Not really.”
Almeada went to the bar in the corner of my office and poured a drink, even though it was barely lunchtime. “Cross, I understand this thing,” he waved his hand around the room, “is new to you. So let me tell you how it’s supposed to work. You’re supposed to deescalate the situation. Do you know what that means?”
“Sure, I do. But it’s easier said than done. Scott isn’t willing to back off.”
“All right.” Almeada took a seat in my client chair. “Let’s go over the proper steps you need to take.”
I already knew what I had to do, from making a formal complaint to documenting every occurrence. I had no intention of filing my own restraining order against the man. This was harassment, stalking, and property damage. Add in the death threats and abuse of power and, at the very least, Scott would be facing a suspension. At the most, jail time. Though, Almeada didn’t believe we had enough evidence to pursue those charges yet.
“What’s the bartender’s name?” Almeada asked, making notes.
“Jim Harrelson, former police lieutenant.”
“And he witnessed Renwin hit Jade?”
“He said it was dark. He doesn’t want to get involved, but if push came to shove, he would testify.”
Almeada nodded. “And the waitress? Melody, was it?”
“Yeah, but I bet most of the staff at KC’s have stories to share.” Maybe one of them gave me up to Renwin.
“All right. I’ll have someone from the firm speak to them and see if this is worth pursuing. I already spoke to your assistant about the people who’ve launched complaints against Renwin. Honestly, if we push a little, we could take his job.”
“We should.”
“Probably, but my duty is to my client. Your duty is to your client. As soon as I put some things together, I’ll reach out to Renwin’s counsel and offer a quid pro quo. I’ll stop digging into this and you’ll back off if Renwin agrees to leave Jade alone. Deal?”
“And he goes to anger management.”
Almeada chuckled. “Is that a sticking point for you?”
“If he wants to keep his badge, it is.”
“Let me tell you something, Cross. It’s not our problem if he does it again. We do our jobs. We do the best we can, and we pass it off. Problems like this are above our paygrades.”
“No wonder you’re a defense attorney.”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t too long ago you were in need of my services.”
“Maybe I should have gone to anger management, then we wouldn’t be here now.”
Almeada laughed. “Regardless, everyone’s entitled to equal protection under the law.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Sure.”
“I never knew you were an idealist. The system’s fucked. It doesn’t work the way it should
.”
“Once again, that’s above my paygrade, but I do the best I can to even the odds.”
I doubted it, but I kept my mouth shut.
Twenty-two
The day was a blur. I rubbed my temples, hoping it would stop the throbbing in my head. Jade came into the living room with two mugs of green tea and a squeezable bear. She flipped the bear upside down and poured some honey into her tea before pushing it closer to me.
“Did Mr. Almeada pick up groceries?” I asked.
“The place came stocked. The bathrooms even have decorative soaps.”
“I told you this place was nicer.”
She blushed, stirring her tea anxiously. “About that. I…I will pay you back. Would it be okay if we set up a payment plan? I’m just not sure yet where I’m going to live. I can probably find a room or roommate, so rent should be more manageable. And once I get back to work, I can pick up some extra shifts and look for a second job.”
“Stop. It’s fine.”
“Lucien, come on. This is your business. I don’t want to be your charity case.”
“Fine. Pay me back. Don’t pay me back. I don’t care. Just please,” I stared at the spoon, “stop doing that.”
Abruptly, she released the spoon and put the cup on the table. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“Hey,” I said softly, “look at me. It’s okay. I just have a headache. It’s not a big deal. Honestly, if you wanted to run through the house banging the pots together, I wouldn’t stop you. Though, I’d appreciate it if you refrain from doing that.”
She studied me for the longest time, a newfound understanding dawning in her eyes. “I’ve forgotten what it’s like to not live in fear.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her what happened today with Scott. “We’ll figure this out. But you’re safe here. The building even has a doorman and its own security guards. Everything will be okay.”
“Y’know, I think I’m starting to believe that.” She let out a breath. “Mr. Almeada says we should be able to get my life back on track soon, and I can stay in the city if I choose.”