Line of Fire (Protect and Serve Book 4)

by Nadine Hudson

  “Finn, I don’t know who that was, but… I’m sorry if I caused you any problems. I woke up when I heard a noise, that’s all,” she explained, and to be fair, she really did seem apologetic.

  “It’s fine, whatever,” I said, waving her off.

  “Okay. I’m just gonna…” She looked around as though making sure she wasn’t forgetting anything then headed for the door. “Thanks for the great evening, I’ll see you.”

  “Yeah, bye,” I said, following behind her a few seconds later to lock the door. I let my forehead fall against it, which only made the beginnings of a headache feel even worse.

  I stumbled over to the couch and fell back against it, shoving the balled-up shirt I’d used as a pillow off onto the floor. How had I let myself get in this situation? I never did anything as stupid as drink hard liquor and let the horny neighbor-lady have a sleepover, no matter how many times she’d offered. I couldn’t help but feel more than a little taken advantage of.

  Luckily, things hadn’t gone there, despite Tammy’s best efforts. I guess all that whiskey hadn’t been the worst idea in the world, considering it had completely dulled any desire on my part.

  But that didn’t erase the image of Veronica’s hurt from my mind. She had looked crestfallen but somehow not surprised, almost like she’d known what a useless prick I was all along. All I’d done was prove her right.

  The worst feeling of all was knowing that I’d come between her and Henry. He’d raised her practically on his own ever since her mom died, and then of course they’d suffered through Jacob’s death together. I would never forget the way he’d told her to get out of the cabin after catching us together… and I would never forgive him for it, either.

  Still, I knew they would somehow put this behind them, but that was something they couldn’t do if I was constantly around. How would that even work? I would no longer be V’s partner—even if she still wanted that—but no one was supposed to think anything unusual about it? Yeah, right.

  Henry and V couldn’t put this behind them if I was still in the way, and that wasn’t okay with me. I pulled out my phone and opened the email app, then typed my letter of resignation to Henry’s police department account. I read it twice, three times, my thumb hovering over the send button the whole time.

  Then I sent it.

  Chapter Three

  Veronica

  “Yes, thank you, eight am will be just fine,” I said to the person on the phone. “I’ll see you then.”

  I hung up and wrote down the time on my notepad. That made a total of three interviews scheduled so far, two of them for tomorrow and one for the day after, and I still had three more follow-ups I was waiting to hear back from. With this many departments looking for diversity and capability, I don’t know what ever made me think I had to work for my dad in the first place.

  Oh, right. Henry made me think that.

  We’d agreed that I could become a police officer if I worked at his precinct. Well, I’d done it. I’d checked that box and was ready to move on. If he was going to attempt to control both my professional life and my personal life, then it was time for me to tell my story walking.

  My phone suddenly pinged with a text and I looked down at the screen. Speak of the devil: Dad.

  It would be like him to apologize via text, since neither one of us were very good at showing our feelings with each other. It was worse than some made-for-TV movie where the single dad tries to raise a daughter on his own without turning her into a miniature version of himself but with boobs. Luckily, my dad has a sister who I could call for advice, and he’d been more than happy to take me to visit her or pay to fly her up to see us, which was especially important whenever I’d needed “the talk” or a trip to buy my first bra, my first box of tampons, whatever.

  But I wasn’t sure I was ready for the “what can I say, kiddo, I screwed up” sort of apology my dad was usually so good at. After all these years, he should have figured it out by now.

  Still, I flicked open the phone’s screen and opened his text, my heart sinking as I read it. Not only was it not the expected—and well-deserved—apology, it was a pretty crappy stab.

  I hope you’re happy, my best officer just resigned.

  I was confused for a split second. Was he talking about my job applications? Had one of the other precincts contacted him for a reference? No way. Even being funny or affectionate, my dad wouldn’t have referred to me as “my best officer.” What was he—

  Finn.

  Great. So Finn quit, too. No, surely there’s no way anyone would be talking about us around the police station now that both of us resigned…

  I thought about ignoring my dad’s text, considering how he wasn’t just mad at me and kicked me out of his house, now he was blaming me for someone else’s actions. That’s some serious gaslighting BS, and I don’t care who’s trying to manipulate me, I don’t play that game. I tapped out a reply.

  Spare me. You obviously don’t hope that I’m happy.

  I set my phone on the table facedown, surprised to realize that I didn’t care if he answered back or not.

  I flipped through a few more emails and sent out a few more interview requests, just for good measure. I saw one listing for a school resource officer and thought that sounded neat—the chance to help keep little ones safe at school and all that—but I knew I’d get tired of that kind of job pretty quick.

  I got an alert about a new email, so I went back to my inbox. One of the agencies I’d spoken with was writing back. It was probably so forms I had to fill out and bring with me. Instead, they were canceling my scheduled time and would be in touch to reschedule soon.

  I crossed that one off my list so I could accept another appointment when I got another email: another cancellation.

  I sat back against the couch and frowned at the screen. Two cancellations within five minutes of each other. That was just great. All I needed now was—

  Ding!

  A third email, a third cancellation due to “scheduling conflicts.”

  Sitting forward, I typed out a reply. “To whom it may concern,” I began, muttering under my breath as I penned my letter, “if I might ask, can you share with me the nature of the reason for the cancellation?”

  I stared at the screen for a few minutes, but I knew they wouldn’t answer. HR departments didn’t like to admit things that they could have to explain in court someday, even I knew that. So I was very surprised that I did get a response.

  “I’m asking you professionally to keep this between us,” I read aloud in a soft voice, confused by the words in their reply, “but if you apply to other agencies, you might consider not mentioning your current employment experience. Your captain does not have a very high opinion of your service.”

  Ohhhhh, was I pissed, angry enough to hit Reply: “My captain happens to be my dad and apparently he just found out I’m leaving his precinct.”

  I stared a hole in my screen while I waited on pins and needles, but their answer wasn’t very hopeful.

  “I see. That does explain things. Your academy record and scores are amazing. Let me see what I can do about offering you an interview then. Hope to talk to you soon. Thanks.”

  I closed my laptop as gently as I could in the mood I was in. So that’s how he wanted to play it, huh? I picked up my phone and sent him a text: Who do you think you are?

  He knew exactly why I was asking because Dad answered right away: We made a deal. You wanna be a cop, you work in my precinct.

  I can’t very well be a cop in your precinct when you told me to get out of your sight.

  When you learn to keep your clothes on, you’re allowed to be in my presence again, he wrote back.

  I gritted my teeth so hard I thought I might pull a muscle in my jaw. I was not a kid, but here he was, acting like he could tell me what to do on my own time.

  You don’t get to talk to your officers that way. I was off-duty and minding my own damn business. Back off, or that text becomes Exhibit
A in my workplace harassment lawsuit against you and the precinct.

  That shut him up. He didn’t text back, and I smirked with satisfaction. In the meantime, I went back to my computer to see if that school cop job was within commuting distance.

  Chapter Four

  Finn

  “Hey buddy, good to see you!” my brother called out from the driveway of the house he was working on. He stepped around ladders and an assortment of tools, then nodded to one of his workmen.

  “Hey Mike,” I answered, clapping him on the back when he hugged me.

  “It’s been too long. I gotta admit, I was kinda surprised when I got your call. What’s up?” Mike asked, pushing aside some tarps and sitting down on an oversized tool box. I took the bag chair across from him and thought about what to say next.

  “Well, it’s not something I enjoy saying,” I started, looking up at Mike and cringing slightly. “But I quit the force. I’m just seeing if you have any work until I get serious about finding a new job.”

  “What the hell, Finn?” Mike whispered. “You quit? You love being a cop, it’s all you’ve ever wanted to do in life!”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. But sometimes things don’t work out.”

  “That’s a load of crap,” Mike said firmly. “You can’t just walk away after a great career like yours. Whatever’s wrong, I know you can fix it.”

  “Not this time,” I said, shaking my head. I looked down, resting my elbows on my knees and handing my head. “Besides, I’ve already resigned. There’s no going back.”

  “Finn, talk to me,” Mike said. “There’s never been a time you couldn’t tell me what was going on. Something isn’t right here.”

  I took a deep breath and let it out. I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him, not just because it was all so embarrassing—getting caught basically with my pants down and all—but because I knew what he’d say. He’d just tell me to go back in there and fight for my job and my girl. And as much as I wanted to do both of those things, it wasn’t fair to V to keep stringing her along. It wasn’t fair to come between her and her dad, either.

  No, it was better this way.

  “I’m waiting,” Mike hinted in a quiet, supportive voice. I laughed to myself and shrugged my shoulders.

  “I screwed up. I fell in love,” I began, and Mike interrupted me with a fit of laughter.

  “Is that all? You’re throwing away a career you’ve worked for your entire life over love? What, she won’t marry a cop so you’re turning your back on it? Is that it?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “She was my partner.”

  Mike went deathly silent, his earlier laughter choked off completely. “Whoa. That’s not good.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, still looking down.

  “What made you… I mean, why would you fall for your partner in the first place?” he asked skeptically. I could tell he was trying not to piss me off.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t mean for it to happen, believe me,” I answered, and it was true. I’d fought it with everything I had, as if somehow I knew it was going to lead me to right where I was at that moment.

  “You don’t think…” Mike started, but he shook his head and looked away.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, forget it,” he said, which only irritated me.

  “Spill it. You don’t think what?” I demanded, pinning him back with an angry stare until finally he sighed in resignation.

  “You don’t think you only fell for your partner because… well, because you couldn’t save your last one?” he asked quietly.

  “That was a low blow, Mike. I expected better from you,” I argued when I could finally calm down enough to answer.

  “No, think about it. You couldn’t save Dante, even though you really tried. So maybe your overprotective side kicked in this time? Maybe it wasn’t really about romantic feelings or any of that stuff, but about being so close that you didn’t have to worry about…”

  “No way,” I said without letting Mike finish. “Besides, that’s messed up. Dante made his choices, and being closer to him or being a better friend wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  “You sure about that? I mean, I agree, but are you sure you really feel that way?”

  I stopped, giving my brother the respect of at least considering what he was saying. Dante had been my partner for a long time, and we’d grown almost as close as Henry and I were. But he’d decided to make some money for himself on the side, and in doing so, he turned bad cop. I’d done everything I could to untie the knots he’d gotten wrapped around himself, but in the end, his own cronies had killed him and dumped him in a river.

  “Okay, well maybe it’s not as bad as it seems—” Mike began, jarring me from some very dark memories.

  “It’s definitely as bad as it seems. Worse, even,” I interrupted, but Mike shook his head.

  “I mean, all you have to do is go back and request a change of partners. Don’t officers get different partners all the time? For different reasons?” he asked.

  “Sometimes. Like if one partner wants to focus on making detective or someone’s partner decides to take a less risky position,” I said, shrugging again. “But it’s not like that this time. I would still have to show up to work every day and see her. I’d have to make it through every shift knowing she was out there in harm’s way without me to watch over her.”

  “And it just won’t work trying to keep working together?” Mike asked, but he seemed to know the answer before he finished asking.

  He watched me silently for a minute, the sounds of saws and hammers shaking the tree limbs overhead. I should have really asked him all this over the phone so he wouldn’t have to look me in the eye and tell me if he couldn’t give me a job, but I just couldn’t say these things into a stupid phone.

  “Finn, you know I’ll help you any way I can. I’ve got a project I’m starting up soon that could actually use a foreman,” he said helpfully.

  “No way, Mike. I’ve never worked construction a day in my life, I can’t just waltz into a project and become a boss. It’d make you look like an idiot and make me the dumb brother who got favorited into a job. No, I’m here with my hat in my hand, asking for any scut work, unskilled labor you’ve got to pay my bills until I figure things out. I’ll do any job, I’m not too proud to start at the bottom or take orders from some twenty-year-old, if that’s what it means.”

  Mike smiled. “That takes real integrity, Finn, which is something you’ve always had. I know you’ll work hard and put this behind you soon.” He looked at me and grinned mischievously. “But I do hope this babe was worth it.”

  “She was. She is, I mean,” I answered. “Too bad I screwed that up, too.”

  “Come on, the famous Finn McSuave?” Mike teased, using the name he’d made up to torment me in high school when I’d been a skinny, freckly nerd who was too shy to ask anyone out. “You’ve got women throwing themselves at you, I bet. You can fix this, too.”

  “Yeah, no. Considering her dad was my captain, I’d say I just about burned every bridge I had back there,” I said, scoffing. “So tell me… which one’s a hammer and which way do I point the thing?”

  Mike laughed at my attempt at changing the subject, but he stood up and dusted off his jeans. “Come on. Let’s get you a hard hat and some gloves.”

  Chapter Five

  Veronica

  “So, Officer Miller, do you have any questions for me?” Mrs. Pennington asked after her tour of the school brought us back to the main office.

  “I don’t think so, ma’am,” I answered stiffly, in my best all-business voice. “It seems like a very straightforward layout of the campus and the duties seem pretty clear.”

  “Wonderful,” the principal replied, beaming. She clasped her hands in front of her as she spoke, her voice gentle and her posture unassuming, though I was pretty sure she could be scary if she needed to be.

  “I would like to ask, if it’s not too bold of me,
” I began, hesitating for a moment before adding, “why have you had so many officers in such a short time? I’m the fourth one this school year?”

  “Ah yes,” Mrs. Pennington said, looking uncomfortable for a moment. “In our experience here at Highland School, the superintendent’s office has insisted on sending us some very… militaristic… resource officers in the past. I am not interested in a ‘law and order’ brute who’s going to threaten our students with handcuffs and arrest.”

  I nodded thoughtfully, wondering what kind of immature a-hole had to get his jollies from making first graders wet their pants in fear.

  “I’m far more interested in having an officer who understands that our students may very well lash out from time to time and need a firm hand in helping them to calm down, regroup, and move on,” the principal continued. “If I ever hear that any of the students was manhandled or threatened—likewise for their parents, many of whom are still trying to figure out how to overcome their own terrible childhoods and do what is best for their children—then you, too, will be just another name we all forget. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am. And let me be the first to say that you have my complete agreement,” I answered firmly, nodding for emphasis.

  “Good. I’m so glad we understand each other,” she said primly. “I do not have anything against law enforcement. In fact, I hold officers in very high regard, for the most part. But the day they began taking teachers out of the classrooms and putting police officers in the hallways was the day that education finally stopped mattering. I do hope that doesn’t offend you. But I expect you to be a source of help to our faculty and students… not a source of fear and intimidation.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I repeated, feeling very much like a student who’d been sent to the principal’s office. Damn, she was good.

  “At the same time,” Mrs. Pennington continued, “I had another reason for selecting you specifically. I want our students to see that women can work in any field they choose. I hope our students look up to you, especially those who wish to pursue a career in law enforcement.”