If only all of it were easily removed. She rolled her shoulders and looked around the room. Ramos was on the phone, talking low, so it wasn’t work related. Simon had just gotten back from lunch with his father. He’d been going to lunch with him a lot lately. He’d also been spending his evenings elsewhere, coming home later in the evening. Audrey would hear his door close while she was lying in bed reading.
She missed him. It took a few days of being hurt and angry at him for playing her like he did for her to realize he hadn’t been playing her at all. Everything she’d asked for, he’d given, even though it hurt him. And that was the worst part of it, hurting him with her own selfishness.
Every so often, she’d find him staring at her. Most of the time, he didn’t even seem concerned that she’d caught him staring. He’d meet her gaze, smile cheerfully, and either ask a case related question or go back to his work. Occasionally, he’d crack a joke. It was all deceptively easy going. His message had been clear—if she couldn’t trust him, there was no reason to continue. It wasn’t even as though he was asking for a commitment. She wanted to throttle him, to make him understand he knew more than anyone else about her. Somehow, she didn’t think it would matter, and she didn’t know what would.
She looked over at him. His email had dinged, and he focused on reading whatever it was on his screen. Whatever it was had him on edge, with his set jaw and furrowed brow. Combined with the brutal scar down the side of his face, he was an intimidating figure. Her thoughts drifted to when she’d traced all of his scars. It hadn’t been that long ago. He’d let her, watching her face closely for any revulsion or pity. There was none, only compassion.
He had no idea that he’d touched her scars. They were all invisible, and she’d spent her life hiding them. To be that vulnerable meant to be weak, to show him how broken she was, and she couldn’t deal with that kind of terror. Or rejection.
Her own email dinged, and she looked down. It was from Charlie. You’re staring. Audrey chuckled and looked at her friend. Things between the two of them were on the mend, but she’d not confided in the redhead about her feelings for Simon. Charlie would be overjoyed that she would finally admit feeling, well, anything. She typed out a response, Mmmmhmm. Lunch? Just us.
Charlie stood. “Yep. Let’s go.”
Antony pushed back his chair, “Lunch? Where we goin?”
“Not today, Ramos. Just the gals for this one,” Charlie said, giving him a small sympathy pout when he huffed and crossed his arms.
“Fine. But you should bring me back something.”
“I’ll see if they have a swift kick in the ass. Super sized,” Charlie called over her shoulder on the way out.
“You’ll be sorry when I starve!” he yelled, winking at Audrey as she followed.
They went to an out of the way soup and salad place that Charlie had discovered a few months before Audrey’s arrival, and settled into a booth in the back corner. After they ordered their drinks, Charlie placed her hands flat on the table and looked at her friend. “Spill.”
“I don’t even know where to start, Charlie.”
“At the beginning? Or, pick a place, and circle back if you need to. But you’re a fucking mess, and we all know it,” she said.
“All?” Audrey was embarrassed to think that she’d been so transparent with the entire team.
“Look at you. No, idiot, not all of us. Well, something is different, that’s obvious, but no one knows what except for the two of you. So, spill.”
“We argued,” she began. “The day after I stayed downtown. He gave me the folder, and there was a picture I’d never seen before. Of me and my mother.”
“I thought she wasn’t alive that long,” Charlie said.
Audrey grabbed a napkin out of the table dispenser and started shredding it. “Me either. That’s what I was told. It was the only picture taken. I was probably only minutes old, still all scrunched up and red. But she was holding me, and she was looking at me,” she said, looking up at Charlie with tears in her eyes. “She knew me.” She grabbed another napkin and mopped her eyes with it, then balled it up and threw it on the table.
“I behaved poorly,” she continued. “It wasn’t his fault, of course, but I yelled at him for keeping it from me, anyway.”
“What did he say?” Charlie asked.
“He told me as much. He told me he hadn’t even read the entire file because of what had been going on. I believe him, but shit. I just . . .” she trailed off.
“Go on,” Charlie prompted.
“We didn’t really resolve anything. We ah . . . well, he kinda,” Her cheeks flushed.
“You got it on?”
“No. He came over and I thought we were going to have it out, you know? Fight it out, make up. Well, we fought, and then he took over.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
“It was hot at first, but then it was like he was just teaching me a lesson.”
“A lesson? Sorta sounds kinky,” Charlie teased.
Audrey looked miserable. “It was, at the start. But then he put me down on the bed, kissed me, and made a comment about being able to trust him with my body but nothing else. We haven’t been alone or really talked since.” She grabbed another napkin and scrubbed her eyes again. “I’m a fucking wreck, Charlie. Crying half the time I’m alone. What the fuck?”
Charlie reached out and grabbed her friend’s free hand. “Look at you. My bestie. Being all human and junk.”
Audrey pulled her hand away and smacked Charlie’s. “Bitch. Kicking me when I’m down.” She gave a watery smile.
The server brought their food and after seeing Audrey’s face, set it down quietly and quickly left. Charlie tucked right in, stabbing a tomato with her fork and shoving it in her mouth.
“So,” she said, chewing. “You like Simon more than you let on.”
Audrey nodded, making circles and swirls in her soup. “Yeah. I do. Quite a lot. I dunno.”
“I think you know, and you’re terrified. The great Audrey Linser, mistress of her emotions, has finally realized that not having emotions isn’t mastering them.”
“I have emotions!” Audrey said. She shut her mouth when Charlie rolled her eyes.
“Having them and allowing yourself to experience them are two different things, Aud. You only allow yourself to feel, what, three emotions. Anger, humor, lust. You have never allowed yourself to get close to anyone. Fuck, woman, I don’t even know how the hell we’re friends sometimes,” Charlie said, smiling softly. “But here you are, caught up in feels that you can’t shove into a tidy little container. What are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” Audrey said. “I’m miserable, but what if I’ve fucked it up beyond fixing?”
“Have you tried?” Charlie asked.
“What do I even say?”
“How about you start with, ‘I’m sorry, I’m an asshole’?” Charlie said, cheekily. She was rewarded with a balled up napkin to the face.
“It might be true, but you don’t have to keep reminding me.”
***
“What’s with you and Linser?” Antony asked, shoving a few fries into his mouth.
Simon snorted. “Nothing much these days.”
“She kick you to the curb?” Antony asked.
“No. No curb kicking. Not for either of us. We had a little row, didn’t really make up. Left it on a, well, a heated note, and it’s been all quiet since then,” Simon answered. He grabbed the bottle marked Hot off the table and squirted some more on his pulled pork before taking another bite. “I made it pretty clear where I stood, so I’m just waiting to see what she does, if anything.”
“Like what?” Antony asked, confused. “She playing games with you? And you’re letting her?”
“Nah. It’s not like that,” Simon answered. “She’s never gotten close to anyone in her life.”
“And you wanna tackle that shit?”
Simon leveled a look across the table at his friend. “You�
�ve never pushed yourself when it’s come to someone that you cared deeply about?”
Antony paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Point taken. If you think she’s worth it, I’ll cut the shit.”
“Why do you dislike her so much?” Simon asked.
Antony took his time chewing, forming his response. “Like I told you, this is the first time since everything went down that you have been interested in anyone. Anyone. That wasn’t like you before.” He held up his hand as Simon opened his mouth. “I know, I know, things are different, for all of us.” He knocked on the prosthetic cap sealed around his stump. “But anyway, I didn’t know that you were gonna go all in on this one. Wasn’t expecting that. I thought maybe she was a warm up for you to get back out there. So, when you started getting serious, I got a little worried.”
“A warm up?” Simon laughed and shook his head. “Jesus, Ramos, you are kind of a dick sometimes.”
“That’s me, King Dick,” Antony said, laughing.
“And that’s also some kind of bullshit, but I won’t blow your secret,” Simon told him. “I appreciate the concern, but I’m really okay with this. Therapy’s going good, too. Digging into it sucks, but it’s getting better.”
Antony nodded. “Good. Expect a relapse or two. I don’t think this shit’ll ever be all the way over, but it’ll get better.”
***
The next time Simon looked up and found Audrey staring at him, he didn’t break eye contact. No smart remarks, no questions. He just looked straight back at her. He kept his face neutral. It was time to put a little pressure on her. Lord knows he’d felt enough of it himself over the last couple weeks. Emotionally, he was wrung out, but it had been worth it in the progress he’d made. Even so, this wait and see crap with Audrey wasn’t helping. He wondered, for the umpteenth time, if he’d misread her unconscious behaviors, the little things she didn’t realize she’d been doing. One thing was sure—he couldn’t do the friends-with-benefits thing anymore. He didn’t know how far he wanted things to go, but having some nebulous sooner-than-later end date hanging over him was more than he wanted to deal with. Seeing her every day and wanting her wasn’t helping him, either.
When they came back from lunch, Audrey refused to look at him. From the glimpse he caught, her eyes were a little red. Charlie must have gotten on her. Or she was figuring shit out. He hoped. One way or the other, so they could at least move on or move forward. He turned to grab another file and his email dinged.
We need to talk.
Well, there it was. He quickly typed out his reply: 1830. Be ready for dinner.
She read his reply and nodded her head at him, smiling wanly. He winked at her and made a point of focusing on his work for the rest of the afternoon.
Inside, his guts were spinning out of control. Dinner might have been a stupid idea, but they needed to be somewhere neutral for this. And if it didn’t work for her, she’d be forward enough to tell him if things were going to end poorly.
So now he had to figure out where to go. Some place quiet, out of the way of everyone.
The door to the waiting area outside squeaked open and closed. Before anyone could go out there and see who had shown up, Chad Gross walked into their office area and looked around. Audrey felt her skin crawl as soon as she recognized him. He moved through the room with ease, as though he belonged there, but a slight stumble into Antony’s desk threw him off.
Simon stood. “May we help you?”
Gross looked at him, “Oh, no thanks.” He turned toward Audrey, “I’m here for Agent Linser.” He smiled at her, an oily grin that put her on guard.
“What do you want, Mr. Gross?” she asked.
“Is there anywhere we can talk?” he replied.
“Right here,” she said. “Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of the team.”
Gross looked around, and his eyes locked on the dry erase board that had Maxwell’s picture tacked to it. He looked back at her, eyebrows raised. “It seems I was mistaken. You told me that my client wasn’t being interrogated, and yet, you’ve got an entire board dedicated to him right here.” He pointed.
“Mr. Gross, you know as well as I do that there was no interrogation with Brewer, because they informed me you’d tried to get copies of the video. You know, the ones that weren’t made?” She sat back in her seat and casually waved one hand toward the board. “That, that’s part of an investigation. Nothing to do with an interrogation. Now, while you’re here, perhaps you can explain to me how you know so much about my personal life.”
He smiled. That same thin-lipped, creepy smile she’d seen the first time she met him. “Attorney client privilege, I’m afraid. You’ll have to ask your father.”
“Curious that you are hiding behind that, since you know I haven’t spoken to him but once in almost two decades.”
“Well, it’s curious that he’s now being investigated, and I wasn’t informed.”
“You are correct,” she’d taken a patronizing tone with him. “and in the spirit of being open, let’s clear that up right now. See, someone tried to kill me a few weeks ago, and we had to investigate all angles, including Inmate Brewer.” She started walking toward him, making him take a few steps back. “I’m sure you can understand. Now, what precisely did you want to speak to me about?”
He pulled himself up straight. “May we please step out? It would be far better for both of us if we held this conversation in private.” He smiled again, but it turned to a scowl at the look of revulsion on her face.
“No, Mr. Gross. It would be far better for you, not me. I cannot think of any reason for us to have a conversation at this point. I am not involved in Brewer’s murder trial, nor will I be. I will not see him, as I’ve already told you. I will also not go anywhere alone with you, for any reason. Now, either say your piece, or leave.” She held her hand out, palm upward, toward the door and looked at him, eyebrows raised.
His face was flushed, and the pulse in his neck was throbbing. A slight sheen had broken out across his forehead. She’d really gotten to him. But why?
Gross looked at her, and his eyes were so full of hate, it startled her. “Well then, perhaps we’ll run into each other another time.” He dropped a business card on her desk and left without another word.
Audrey stood there for a moment, rolling his last words over in her mind. Her blood ran cold, and she turned around, face pale. Her stomach had bottomed out, and she was lightheaded.
“It was him,” she said. “We need those records.”
Antony stared at her, phone in one hand, and the other hovering over the keypad. “You’re sure?”
She sat down in her chair and accepted the water bottle from Simon. “Yeah. His tone. He’s the one who did it.”
Antony nodded once and started punching numbers.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Simon set the new board where the old one had been. He taped the picture of Chad Gross to the upper corner. Brewer’s board was off to the side, kept intact in case the team found any involvement.
Antony smacked his hand against the table, causing everyone to jump.
“The hell, Ramos?” Charlie glared.
“Here it is. We were looking at the wrong records.” Antony scooted a single page toward the middle of the table. “He doesn’t have an ID card. He had to get a temp tag. That’s what they scanned. It goes to a different fucking record in the system.”
Charlie grabbed the paper and looked at the highlights Antony had made. “So he came through twice. Same gate.”
“Times?” Simon had a dry erase marker in his hand and was waiting to copy on the board.
“Zero seven, and,” Charlie moved her finger along the margins. “Ten forty-five.”
Simon made a few marks along the timeline and noted the times with larger dots.
Randall came in, holding his keys and a coffee mug. “I have to go up to the prison. We just got clearance to pull all the logs, so we can scrub them for anything that might help.
” He refilled his travel coffee mug from the fresh pot. “There was also an emergency at the PD this morning, so the rental agreements won’t get here until the morning. Looks like everything is under control here, though, so I don’t think they’re in any rush.”
He looked at his watch. “I want all of you out of here by 1500 today.” He looked at Audrey. “No exceptions. This is going to suck up a lot of time here quickly. Gross is a slick bastard, but his ego is his downfall. He’ll be cocky and lazy, so we should take advantage. Get out of here and get a bit of rest while we can. We’ll get in tomorrow, get a scan on those rental logs to establish any patterns, and go from there. I’ll see you then.”
Half an hour passed when Antony slammed his hands on the desk. Everyone in the room jumped, and Simon almost dumped his water bottle on the stacks of papers.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Charlie yelled.
“Sorry. Just a thought. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He grabbed his phone and ran out the door.
Simon looked at Audrey and shrugged, and the trio went back to their tasks.
Twenty minutes later, Antony came back in, carrying a smaller sheaf of paper, about thirty pages. He slammed it down on the plastic work table.
“If you slam one more goddamned thing, Ramos, I’m gonna slam your head on the floor.” Charlie was halfway out of her chair and looking like she was about to launch herself over the table.
“Promises, promises, Madden. You keep making these sweet promises,” he replied, grinning. She threw a wadded up piece of paper at him, and he caught it neatly and lobbed it into the trash.
Audrey picked up the top sheet of the paper stack and looked at it. “What is this?”
“That, dear Agent Linser, is the gate record for the back 40,” Antony said. “We never thought to get those.”
“Well,” said Simon. “It’s not like the gate is open very often, or for very long.”
“I would have thought they would have included those records with the main gate when we asked,” Audrey said. “Or is that just me?”
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