by Robin Roseau
"Don't dance around it, Detective," he told me. "Did you find her or not?"
I'd thought about how to answer this particular question. I'd hoped to avoid it entirely, as I didn't care to lie to my captain. But that didn't mean I wouldn't.
"I don't believe it's in anyone's best interests to pursue it further," I said. "And I believe the family will stop asking."
He narrowed his eyes. "Am I going to have to deal with this further?"
"I do not believe so, Captain."
"And you're not going to ruin your career trying to find a woman who doesn't want to be found?"
"No, Captain."
He watched me for a minute. "You look tired."
"I got hit by something over the weekend," I said. "I'm on the tail end of it. I'll be fine by tomorrow."
And that was the end of that.
* * * *
Well, that was the end of that as far as law enforcement was concerned. It was Thursday when I received a text from Beth. "I want to know the rest. I want the truth."
I texted back. "I've told you what I can. She's alive. She's healthy. She's safe."
"That's not enough."
I didn't respond.
I was collapsed on the sofa, nursing my second beer, when the phone rang. I stared at it before answering it.
"Hey."
"It's not enough, Teigan. I need to know what's going on."
"So you don't trust me," I replied. "Swell."
"It's not that I don't trust you."
"Of course it is."
She ignored that, and we were both quiet until she asked me, "What is going on, Teigan?"
"I can't tell you."
"Well, that's the problem, isn't it? What could it be that you can't tell me? I don't need you to protect me. That stopped being your job three years ago, and it wasn't your job then, anyway."
"We're going to have to agree to disagree on that point."
"I'm not a child. And I'm not remotely as delicate as you make me out to be. I'm a lawyer, for crying out loud. Do you think I live my life in a bubble? The fact that you think I need protection means Rachel needs help. It's not like you to let something like this go, Teigan, but it's certainly like you to try to keep me out."
"I cannot tell you, Beth. Part of the agreement to see her in the first place was to tell you no more than what was agreed."
"Your agreement with whom?"
"The person who helped me see her."
"Where is your loyalty, Teigan? To me, or to some unnamed, shadowy person?"
"It's to you."
"Who is your contact?"
"I'm not answering your questions, Beth. I'm not. You need to trust my judgment."
She hung up on me.
Well, shit.
* * * *
Beth surprised me. I didn't hear from her for exactly a week. But when I did hear from her, it was via my doorbell ringing. It was a little late for solicitors, and so I was rather surprised. When I peered through the window, I swore again.
I should have been happy to see her, right, the woman I still loved?
I opened the door. "Beth."
She barged past me, pushing me aside. By the time I closed the door, she was facing me, both hands folded across her chest.
"It's nice to see you, too," I said to her. "Come in. Make yourself at home."
She looked around briefly. "You haven't changed a thing."
"There's a new dishwasher. The old one broke."
"Big changes in your life." It was said in a droll tone. "I want to know the rest. Where is she? What kind of trouble is she in? What are we going to do to rescue her?"
I folded my own arms to match hers, not saying a word. We glared at each other for a while. Then I stepped past her, heading to the kitchen.
"Where are you going?" she demanded.
"I need a beer. Did you want a beer?"
"You know I hate beer."
"I'm sorry I don't keep wine in the house for you." There was more snark in my tone than I'd ever used with her before. "Maybe if you had called ahead, I'd have had time to run out and get some."
"I don't need a drink," she said to my retreating back. "I need answers."
I didn't respond. Instead I retrieved two beers from the kitchen fridge, opened them, and returned to the living room. Beth was still there, her arms still folded, watching the kitchen door. I crossed the room and held out one beer to her.
"No, thank you," she said.
"Suit yourself." I plopped down on the sofa, setting the extra beer on the coffee table, and took a deep swig from my own.
"How has life been treating you?" I asked casually.
Beth stared at me for a moment then sat down the easy chair. She glared for a minute then leaned forward and collected the beer from the table. She took her own swig and made a face. "I hate beer."
I didn't say anything. I wasn't holding a gun to her head. She wasn't forced to drink it. She took another swig and set it back down on the table.
"Why won't you answer my questions?"
"Because I promised not to."
"You've broken promises before."
I stared, turning cold inside. "That's a low blow. But if that's how you intend to fight, get out." I turned away, not looking at her.
She didn't get up. I heard her pick up the beer and take another swig. She set it back down and then said, "You're right. I'm sorry."
I turned back to her. When I spoke, my tone remained cold. "You know, I made more than one promise to you. I promised to be loyal. I promised to love you forever. I promised that while my job was demanding, you would always be the most important thing in my life. But most importantly, I promised to protect you." I poured down the rest of my beer then slammed the empty bottle onto the table in front of me. "When I was presented with the choice of picking which promise to keep and which to break, I kept the promise to protect you. I did it then, and I'd do it now."
"I don't need your protection. I don't want your protection. I want my cousin."
"But in this case," I said, "I don't have to choose. I can keep all the promises I've made. I can keep my promise to my source not to say more than I have. And at the same time, I can protect you." I leaned forward. "I also promised to do my best to find her. I kept that promise, too. I found her, and I risked my career to do so." I almost told her I risked far more than my career, but that just would have given her more to latch onto. "I didn't, however, promise to answer every question you asked. I never made a promise like that. In fact, I remember telling you sometimes I wouldn't be able to answer your questions. You always hated when I wouldn't tell you the details of my job, but you always understood why."
"If I need protecting, then so does Rachel."
I thought carefully before replying. "Perhaps that is true; perhaps it is not. But I never promised to protect her. I promised to protect you."
"From what?" she yelled. "What are you protecting me from? I have a right to know."
"Well, you're just going to have to use your imagination."
"From what?" Beth asked again. "The mob? Drug dealers? Is my cousin addicted to drugs, and you found her in some opium den?"
"I'm not answering those kinds of questions, Beth!" I paused and spoke more gently. "But you should ask yourself this. If I found evidence of ongoing illegal activity, what do you think I would do about it?"
She stared and then whispered, "She's there of her own free will."
"No comment."
"There are no drug dealers."
"No comment."
"You spoke to her."
"Yes."
Beth glared then poured down the rest of her beer, making another face. Like I had, she slammed it on the table. "This isn't over."
She was out the door ten seconds later.
* * * *
It was noon on Sunday when my phone rang. I'd already been out for a good, cleansing run and was just getting dressed from my shower. I stepped over to my dresser and looked at the phone. I d
idn't recognize the number.
"Detective St. Claire."
"Teigan?" came a woman's voice. "Teigan St. Claire?"
"Yes," I said. "This is Teigan St. Claire."
"Teigan. It's Meg Spencer. I'm Rachel Spencer's mother. I believe we met once, several years ago. You were dating my niece, Beth."
I avoided swearing, barely.
"Yes, Mrs. Spencer. I remember. You made peach cobbler."
"Yes, possibly. Call me Meg. I understand you have seen my daughter recently."
"Meg, you should talk to Beth about this."
"I talked to Beth. And she said I should talk to you. And so I am talking to you. Have you seen my daughter?" Her voice cracked at the end.
"Meg," I said as gently as I could. "Yes, I spoke with Rachel. She doesn't want you to worry about her."
"Where is my daughter, Teigan? Where is she?"
"Beth should have told you I can't answer questions like that."
"I am her mother! Tell me where my daughter is!"
"Meg, I can't. You need to let this go. Rachel will come home when she can."
"A mother does not let something like this go. Maybe with your lifestyle, you don't expect to ever be a mother, but you should understand that a mother never gives up on her children."
The times I had met Beth's family, they hadn't seemed like homophobes. I particularly notice any interaction between Beth and Meg, but the interactions I'd seen had been warm and supporting. I took a breath, controlling my response.
"Did you just make a comment about my sexuality, Mrs. Spencer?"
"Are you worried about my semantics while my daughter is missing?"
"Your daughter was missing. She isn't any longer."
"I called the detectives assigned to Beth's case. As far as they're concerned, it's an open case. I was assured a prompt phone call if any fresh leads appeared. Tell me, Detective St. Claire. Why is one police officer telling me one thing, and another officer telling me another?"
I grew cold. "Did you mention me to Sergeant McCullum?"
"Answer my question, and maybe I'll answer yours."
"Fine," I said frostily. "I risked my career to look into this. I don't do missing persons. I'm in the White Collar division. Looking into someone else's case can be career-ending move. But I did it anyway. As far as the department is concerned, I took vacation."
"And what will happen when I tell your superiors you know where my daughter is but won't tell anyone?"
"There would be an investigation. I would be suspended for the duration. I wouldn't be free to do my job. In the end, I would probably lose my job and be unable to ever work in law enforcement again. Is that how you intend to repay me for what I've already done? Before you go down that path, you should speak further with your niece."
I paused, taking several breaths, trying to calm myself. This was Rachel's mother. She was understandably distraught.
"Mrs. Spencer. I am sorry your daughter is unable to see you herself. I am sorry I am unable to offer you more assurances than I already have. But I made a sacred vow before I was allowed to see her. I have told you what I can. I'm sorry."
And then, before I screamed at her, I hung up. Maybe it wasn't very professional, and I'd had my career threatened before. But this was the first time it was like this, and I was barely seeing straight.
It took me several minutes before I texted Beth. "Your aunt threatened my job. Thanks a lot."
* * * *
I was still angry Monday. I called the main line for Tate, Armstrong, Harris, and Jackson and asked to speak to Kate Everest. I got her secretary instead and was told that Ms. Everest was currently unavailable. I asked for an appointment, today if possible, and was offered a brief window at 2:00. I took it.
I arrived at the law firm a few minutes early, was escorted to a place outside Kate's office, and then waited. At two, the secretary told me it would only be a little longer. At 2:20, Kate's office door opened. She escorted out a small group in business suits then, without a glance at me, disappeared inside her office. Five minutes later, the secretary let me in to see Kate.
Kate greeted me warmly then gestured me to a chair. She folded her hands and looked at me. "What can I do for you? We're not due for an in person meeting."
"I need a lawyer."
"I presumed that's why you are here. If you're in some sort of legal trouble, I can refer you to one of our criminal defense lawyers."
"I'm not. But I need to know I will have client attorney privilege." I pulled out a checkbook. "How much?"
"Perhaps you should tell me what this is about first. You're already covered. It's safe to talk, although I would advise you against admitting to illegal activity."
I considered carefully for a moment before nodding. "It's a simple matter. I wish to cancel my prior agreement with Beth."
"That is a trivial matter," she said. "Will you tell me why?"
"And transfer it to you."
"Oh, my," she said. "Are you and Beth having trust issues?"
"Yes."
She looked at me carefully then asked gently, "Do you expect me to exercise the agreement you currently have with Beth?"
"No, but the underlying issue isn't resolved."
"All right. Do you wish the same terms with me that you have with Beth?"
"Yes."
"All right." She pressed a button on her phone. "Dane, can you see if Elisabeth Brewer is available for a brief conference in ten minutes? If so, find us a conference room."
"Yes, Kate."
* * * *
"What's this about, Kate?" Beth asked. Then she saw me. "Teigan? What are you doing?"
Kate had advised me not to say a word, and so I let her handle things. She got the three of us seated and then slid paperwork across the table to Beth. She looked down at it.
"Good," Beth said. "You're cancelling that. But you didn't need Kate's help. You only had to come to me."
"She's not cancelling it," Kate said. "She's transferring it to my control."
"What?" Beth said. "Teigan, why? And why her?"
"I can't trust you anymore, Beth," I said, not looking at her.
"What?" she said again. "Of course you can trust me."
"Ms. St. Claire," Kate said, putting a hand on my arm. I wasn't supposed to speak.
"You don't trust me," I said. "And now you're going to ruin my career because of it. Thanks a lot for that."
"That wasn't me. That was my aunt."
"Who put her up to it, Beth? Who told her to call me? Who told her how to play it? Who gave her my private, unlisted number?"
"Wait," said Kate. "Beth, you're trying to ruin your ex-girlfriend's career? That doesn't seem like something you would do. I might, but I wouldn't have expected it of you. But it seems like something that could embroil this law firm in a significant lawsuit."
"I'm not trying to ruin Teigan's career," Beth said. "That was my aunt, and she never threatened anything. She only asked what would happen."
"It was a threat. I did a favor for you, and when you didn't like the results, you threatened me. Thanks a lot, Beth. Sign the damned papers," I demanded.
"This isn't necessary," Beth said. "I'll calm my aunt down. She wouldn't make that phone call, anyway. She'd ask me to do it, and you know I wouldn't."
"When the chips were down, Beth, you made your choice. You threw me under the bus."
"She's my cousin!" Beth screamed. "And you're making me choose between you."
"Wait," Kate said. "Both of you shut up."
I closed my mouth, barely. Kate offered a hard look at me and a harder one at Beth. "Your cousin. This is all about your cousin. You said the investigation had stalled, and the police weren't doing anything else." She looked over at me. "So you asked your ex-girlfriend to check on it." She leaned back in her chair. She looked over at Beth, but it was barely a glance, before she turned back to me. "You found her, or what's left of her."
"I'm not answering any questions about it," I said. I sat back
and folded my own arms. "Make her sign the papers so I can get out of here. I'd like to go do my job, for however long I still have one."
"You're not going to lose your job," Beth said. I didn't even bother looking at her.
But Kate did. "Clearly the good Detective St. Claire discovered enough of what happened to know your cousin is dead. And based on everything else, she's afraid of her own life if it goes any further. The police dropped it, and now she's dropping it."
"Rachel isn't dead," Beth said. "Teigan spoke to her, or so she says, but she won't tell me anything else."
"Shut up, Beth!" I said. "God, shut up!"
Kate turned to me, but I continued to glare at Beth, who was in turn glaring at me. Finally Kate spoke. "Beth, when you and Teigan were dating, I made some cutting remark about your police officer girlfriend. And you let me have it, telling me she was the bravest woman you've ever met. But look at her. Look at her! She's practically trembling. What could possibly have her this frightened?"
"Do you think I don't know that, Kate?" Beth spat. "But my cousin is in the middle of whatever has her this frightened. And she's not doing a thing about it or giving me enough to do something."
"Well," I said. "Go ahead and ruin my career. I'm not answering any more questions. None." I shook my head then yelled, "Sign the god damned papers and get out of here."
Without another word, she did.
And Again
I slept poorly, and for the next two weeks, I was a shadow of myself at work. Three times I found myself driving to her, the vampire, but each time I turned away.
Every time I showed up at work, I expected to be called into the captain's office. A few times I was called in, I was sure he would be asking for my badge and gun, but each time it was just to check the status of a case. I wasn't making much progress, and he asked me if I was breaking promises to him and pursuing other cases than my official load. I assured him I wasn't.
But nothing else happened. I received no more phone calls from Meg Spencer and heard of no indication she'd called anyone else in the local law enforcement community to accuse me of hindering an official investigation. And so, finally, I was able to focus on my job.
And if, from time to time, I had dreams about a certain demon, at least they weren't nightmares.