Kitty smiled wistfully. “Never assume that you’re the only one who made bad choices once in their lives. You can come back from that, no matter what anyone says.” She hugged Emma gently. “Talk to Jayce. You have the right to protect yourself. That Deirdre person needs to understand you don’t want anything to do with her or her sister.”
“Thank you so much. Everything is such a mess right now.”
“It doesn’t need to be, believe me.”
It was with a lighter heart that Emma arrived at her home, off work half an hour earlier, with more than enough time to get ready for an evening out with Jayce. Maybe Kitty was right, and Jayce could really help her. She didn’t take Deirdre’s threats lightly, but this time, she had people in her life that cared about her and believed her.
This time would be different.
As she went through her closet in search of a suitable outfit, the box never quite completely out of her mind, Emma’s gaze fell on the dress she’d worn on New Year’s Eve, the first real date she had gone on with Jayce. Never mind that this little blue dress came from a thrift store and the shoes had been marked down three times. Emma had made some adjustments to the dress and spent a wonderful night in, and later, out of it, filled with hope for the future.
Was that feeling still true? Could she dare? Emma picked a purple dress that Kitty had given her a few weeks into her employment with the store.
“Please, don’t think of it the wrong way,” she’d said. “My friend Clare has a bit of a shopping disorder. Some of the stuff she gives away has never been worn. She’s your size, so I thought…Just try it on.”
She’d been on her own for a few weeks only, and already there were people in her life she owed so much to. Deirdre was not one of them—Kitty was right about that.
* * * *
“You look beautiful.” Jayce greeted her with a kiss. “I can’t tell you how glad I am this week is finally over!”
Emma had to smile at her enthusiasm, amazed how different she could be from the undercover persona Emma got to know at the halfway house, enigmatic and troubling. Back in those days, Emma had admitted the instant attraction, even though she wasn’t sure she could trust Jayce Turner, a woman who obviously had secrets and was hanging with a dangerous crowd.
Detective Finney’s story was a different one. Emma knew she was safe with her—so why didn’t those words come over her lips?
“I can imagine,” she said instead.
“Are you ready? I promise you won’t have to make small talk all night. Besides, Daniel will be there too.”
“I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” If she said it often enough, maybe she’d start believing it? After tonight, they would go to either Jayce’s or Emma’s apartment, and make time to talk. If not tonight, then sometime tomorrow.
With a bit more confidence than she’d had earlier, Emma stepped inside the bar a few minutes later, Jayce holding the door open for her. She hadn’t expected the cheers, freezing.
Jayce shook her head. “Stop it, guys. I made a coffee run and he walked right into it. That’s all.”
“Well, Finney, you saved us from having to stake out that house for all eternity,” a tall blond man all dressed in black said, patting her shoulder.
“Don’t listen to what he says,” a brunette woman advised. “We’re just really happy for you since you’re dating again. I almost thought you made her up.”
Jayce laughed. “You’re embarrassing me. Emma, let me introduce you to the comedians. Ray and Tanya, with whom I have to put up on a daily basis. Meet Emma.”
There were friendly smiles and handshakes, and yet Emma felt a tad overwhelmed. Jayce seemed to sense her state of mind. She took Emma’s hand. “Come on, let’s get a drink. I know the place might not look like it, but they have fabulous cocktails, and the best wings in town.”
“I can’t wait. I’d like a beer though.”
Her relief at how Jayce’s friends had greeted her didn’t entirely do away with her unease. She still wasn’t sure how much they knew, any of them except Daniel. For Jayce’s sake, wouldn’t it be better to pretend Deirdre’s visit had never happened, just sit it out? In any case, Emma didn’t want anything stronger than beer tonight, in case she’d still find that courage.
In the course of the evening, Jayce introduced her to more of her colleagues, in a manageable dose. However, when she excused herself to the bathroom, Emma sat on the barstool, clutching her half empty glass and hoping no one would talk to her. Daniel came by to make an order. He lingered, and it occurred to Emma that this might be Jayce’s doing.
“I’m okay,” she said. “You can go back.”
He shrugged. “That’s fine. I’m not in a hurry.” She gave him a grateful smile.
“So, Emma, what do you do?” Tanya, who had joined them at the counter, asked.
“Why don’t you give her a little more time before you start interrogating her?” Daniel stopped her line of questioning. It might be the beer she’d had, or maybe this comment was the last straw. Emma felt irritated with everyone’s attempt to shield her from the world, because it was telling her how much she still needed that kind of protection.
“It’s not a problem,” she said. “I work in Kitty’s store.” She assumed most co-workers knew about their spouses—if they knew who’d been dating, and who hadn’t.
“Oh, I see.” Tanya didn’t elaborate what she was able to conclude from the piece of information. “That’s how you met, I assume?”
Jayce returned this moment, saving Emma from having to answer. “I was afraid this was going to happen.” She slapped Daniel’s arm. “You didn’t do a very good job here, partner.”
“Me? I’m waiting for my order…and here it comes. See you.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy,” Tanya said. “Okay, I did, but I was nice about it.”
“She was,” Emma confirmed. “It’s not a secret, after all.” She searched Jayce’s gaze, wondering how many secrets she had kept from her co-workers. They probably didn’t know everything that had happened during the undercover assignment.
“I’m sure you were. That’s why she always gets to be the good cop.”
Tanya laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t make her think that all those clichés are true. All right, I get the hint. See you on Monday, Jayce. Have a great night.”
It could be, if only Emma was a bit braver.
* * * *
The harshness of the pressing questions mellowed some, later that night, when they had retreated to Jayce’s apartment, and all of Emma’s troubles seemed far away indeed—the mysterious package as well as the friendly curiosity of Jayce’s co-workers.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, right?”
“Not at all,” Emma said. “You’re pretty good at this.” They both laughed. Emma thought this was definitely many steps up from the narrow single bed they’d shared for a couple of nights at the halfway house—with the danger of someone walking in on them. Jayce’s place was safe from unwanted visitors and trips down memory lane.
Mostly.
“Thanks for the flattery.” Jayce placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. Emma shivered. No, this wasn’t like anything she’d experienced in the past years. Deirdre was right, she’d do whatever possible to keep it. With every passing moment, telling the story would only make it worse. Jayce would be mad at her for not coming to her right away, and maybe worse than that…
“Can we talk about the lawsuit?”
Emma stiffened. Jayce interpreted her reaction correctly.
“All I’m asking of you is to meet the lawyer and hear what she can do for you.”
“This is over. I don’t want to be in a courtroom ever again.”
“I don’t understand.” Jayce sat up with her back against the headboard. “I know it’s not easy for you, but you have people who support you now. Just one appointment and we go from there.”
“I can’t,” Emma insisted. “What if I lose? I’d owe legal fees for the rest of my
life.”
“You won’t lose. You know what happened. Maxine lied and she got away with it. Somewhere along the way some people weren’t doing their jobs. They owe you. I’m sorry, but that’s the only way you’ll ever clear your name completely, make it official.”
“I served the time,” Emma said tersely. “That’s official enough for me. I’m sorry if that isn’t something you want to tell your friends.”
Jayce shook her head. “Forget about my friends. What happened in prison? Did you hurt someone?”
“No! Of course not!”
“What else then? Did you do drugs—use, or sell them?”
“No, I didn’t. What are you getting at?”
“I’m trying to figure out why you think you don’t deserve this. Any of it. You served your time, yes, but for something you didn’t do. You didn’t pull the trigger. You didn’t even know about that gun.”
“Nobody believed me. I don’t want to think about this anymore. Can’t you get that?”
“I get it, I really do.” Jayce pulled her close, and despite the uncomfortable exchange, this was still where Emma wanted to be, close to her. “Once we’re through this, you’ll have more options.”
She didn’t elaborate, but Emma could fill in the blanks just the same. Her job in the store had been, and still was, a blessing. No one could say exactly how long it would last. With Samantha showing up one in five of her scheduled days, she was safe for now. She didn’t have the impression that Kitty wanted to make any drastic changes soon. A few years from now, things might be different.
“I like working in the store,” she said anyway. “You have no idea how happy I am you made that happen, and Kitty gave me a chance. It’s good work, and I can’t worry about what happens five or ten years from now.”
“Will you think about it?” Jayce asked. “If we meet with the lawyer, and it’s too much, I’ll let it go. I swear.”
“I’ll think about it,” Emma promised, feeling even worse with the additional pressure. “I will.”
“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow. Emma. Please don’t cry.”
It certainly wasn’t the idea of meeting the lawyer alone that broke her composure. In only a few hours, she’d go back to a job that wasn’t as safe as she’d hoped after all. If she was honest, Emma had known, she’d just successfully repressed the thought. Kitty would be asking again—Kitty who at least understood, because she’d made bad choices of her own.
There was no way out of this conversation. She was scared of the moment when Deirdre would return, but more so of what Jayce would think once she knew.
“I made a mistake,” she said, the tone of her voice enough to alert Jayce on how serious this was. Emma took a deep breath. She was going to tell all.
* * * *
Jayce kept her tone soft and reassuring, knowing that she couldn’t afford a mistake in this situation, or they would both be in trouble. Part of her was hurt, for Emma, because she had been more afraid of Jayce’s reaction than the consequences of this little agreement with her ex’s sister—a term to use loosely, because Deirdre had threatened Emma. She felt a bit irritated with Emma, too, something she couldn’t let show at the moment, but mostly angry with a system that had cracks wide enough for good people to fall through them.
Emma wouldn’t though, have one mistake determine the rest of her life. Jayce made that decision as a cop, because it was so much easier, clearer. As the woman who had fallen in love with her…She wanted to simultaneously shake her—not a good idea—and protect her, hide her away from the world.
No, being a cop for now would serve both of them better.
The information Emma could give was fairly sketchy, even though it was her apartment in which something likely illegal was hidden, her future on the line. Jayce was certain that Deirdre’s antics were a lot more serious than a harmless prank. Finding Emma, her phone number and address, and bothering her after all these years, all of this was obviously part of a bigger plan.
She would find out why Deirdre had gone to these lengths.
“Okay, this is what we do,” she said, aware of Emma’s anxious gaze on her. “We’ll go over there right now and get the box, check what’s inside, and then we’ll go to the station. You’ll call Deirdre and ask her to come, and depending on what we find, we’ll ask her questions. You’ll be out of the crosshairs.” Jayce didn’t realize her rather inappropriate choice of words until Emma flinched. “Sorry. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
“Do we really have to go there?” Emma asked, her voice small.
Jayce could imagine that a police station didn’t harbor the best of memories for her, but she couldn’t think of any other way.
She wasn’t naïve. Emma might be innocent in every unexpected twist life had thrown at her, the criminal ex, getting caught up in Jayce’s undercover operation at the halfway house, and now with Deirdre. Sadly, most people wouldn’t see it that way but find something suspicious about the situation and the string of unlucky coincidences. That was why they had to think ahead.
“It won’t take long,” she said, hoping she wasn’t promising too much.
The box had a simple lock, one that didn’t resist much. They had found themselves an empty room, and this early in the morning no one had even stopped to ask. Most of Jayce’s colleagues were either finishing their shift or weren’t here yet.
Emma stood in the corner, looking as if she still couldn’t believe what happened in the past hours—or days. Finally, the lock gave way, and Jayce carefully lifted the lid with gloved hands.
Her jaw must have dropped a little at the content: Neatly rolled bills, altogether a few thousands, she guessed. The box itself was a cheap fabrication. She easily identified and removed the false bottom. Underneath, she found a selection of rings, bracelets and watches.
“Holy sh—” Jayce stopped herself just in time. Emma took a stumbling step forward, steadying herself on the back of the chair.
“I had no idea! This can’t be hers, right? Why did she do that? Maxine? Is someone going to come after me for this?”
“Emma. Relax. Sit down.” Emma reluctantly obeyed. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, okay? I have to make a few calls. We need to get someone in here who’ll find out where these pieces came from, and we have to check everything for prints.”
“I don’t think Deirdre has a record.”
“Well, she didn’t do this on her own. We’ll think of something, I promise. First we need to know what we’re dealing with. Give me a moment. Everything will be fine.”
Emma pulled her cardigan tighter around her, and Jayce laid a hand on her shoulder as she punched in the numbers. A detective Jackson answered. Good. She had met him on a few occasions, and she felt safe trusting him with Emma’s predicament.
“Jackson, hi, it’s Jayce Finney. I could use your help.” She described the pieces found in the box, and he interrupted her right away.
“Can’t say for sure until I’ve seen them, but that sounds like some of the items taken in the recent home invasions on Park Street. I’ll be right there. Thanks.”
Jayce was hopeful that they could wrap this up pretty soon. She could only imagine how Emma had to feel hunched over in her chair.
They were good. Everything would be fine. Though it was completely irrational, Jayce wondered if Emma might regret that the first woman she dated, back in freedom, was a cop.
“Once we’re done here, Deirdre is not going to bother you anymore. That’s a good thing, right?”
“It is. Thank you.” There wasn’t much conviction behind her words. Jayce attributed it to the fact that it wasn’t yet 5:00 a.m., and Emma might miss her shift. She was probably exhausted. Keeping secrets did that to a person.
True to his word, Jackson knocked on the door and stepped inside about ten minutes later, his eyes widening when he saw the content on the table.
“My ex’s sister brought it to me. She asked me to guard it for her for a few days.”
“And y
ou didn’t think it was strange?” he asked in disbelief.
“She asked me not to open it. I didn’t.” Emma sat up straighter, cautious. Jayce hated that she had to put her through this, but with the time already gone since Deirdre’s first approach, it was even more important to do everything by the book.
“I wanted to come here,” Jayce explained. “There were some threats, and we thought the content might be something that warrants getting the police involved.”
Jackson looked from the open box to Emma who was fidgeting in her chair. “She was threatening you? With what?”
“I went to prison because of her sister. She…I don’t know if she blames me for everything and wanted to get back at me, or if Maxine told her to do this, I don’t know!”
“If you were worried, why didn’t you tell anybody?”
“She told me,” Jayce cut in. “Slow down. Emma is not a suspect. She came to me because she felt something was wrong—which is a good thing. Let’s have these processed and we’ll see what we do from here.”
“What’s going to happen to Deirdre?” Emma asked, timid.
“These pieces here,” Jackson said grimly, “they come from a string of violent home invasions. The last owner is still in the hospital. Your friend will have a lot to answer for.”
“She’s not…”
“I’ll need your statement too. Finney, can you do that? We’ll go find Deirdre in the meantime. Got a last name, Ms. Curtis?”
“I’m not sure. I think she married once. Maxine’s last name is Brown.”
“All right. Let’s see what we can do.”
* * * *
Before taking Emma’s statement, Jayce got them both a coffee from the vending machine, keeping Emma with her the whole time. “This is good news,” she said. “You did the right thing.”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel like I’ve done anything right in a long time. The owner of that store is still dead, and the people who were robbed…”
Jayce & Emma Page 7