by L. T. Ryan
“That sounded almost convincing.”
“Did it?” She laughed. “No, really. I’m hanging in there. The trip to see my parents has helped a lot more than I thought it would. Who knew working through our issues would be such a good thing for us? It’s going to take time, on both ends, for things to feel normal again. If they were ever normal.”
“No family is normal. I know that for a fact.”
“True.” Cassie’s face fell as she thought of what had come next. “After I got home, I got a phone call from Detective Harris.”
“The woman who came to talk to you at the museum?”
“Yeah.” Cassie shook her head. “You have a good memory.”
“I’m pretty good with names and faces. Part of the security thing. Gotta remember people.”
“Well, Adelaide called to tell me some bad news.” She had told her sister soon after she found out, but Cassie still wasn’t used to saying it out loud. “We had a mutual friend, Detective David Klein. He was very important to me.” How could she tell Jason what David had meant to her? How could she sum that up in a couple of words? It was impossible. “Like a father, really. Like family. She called to tell me he died.”
Jason moved closer. He placed a hand on her arm. It was comforting, but she could feel her emotions threatening to spill over. He waited until she looked him in the eye before he spoke. “I’m so sorry, Cassie. This is probably a dumb question, but are you okay? I mean, down here, working?”
She shrugged. Her voice was thick with grief, so she took a swig of her drink. The tequila helped burn it away. “Honestly, no. I’m still processing it. We don’t know exactly what happened, other than someone murdered him.” When Jason’s eyes grew wide, she hurried on. “His funeral was the other day. I wanted to come down here to get away from everything for a while. Maybe it wasn’t the right call, but running into you makes it feel like it was.”
The alcohol made Cassie’s head swim, and her entire body felt warm and tingly. Jason was right there, so close, and she could feel the heat of his hand on her arm. It sent electric shocks throughout her body that were anything but painful. The sting of David’s death was never out of reach but looking into Jason’s eyes made her feel like everything could be okay. One day.
“If you need anything, let me know. Whether it’s a distraction or a shoulder or a pint of ice cream.”
Cassie laughed, even as a tear escaped from the corner of her eye. Jason was quick to wipe it away. He cupped her face and held her gaze. She couldn’t look away if she tried. The tequila wasn’t the only thing making her dizzy now.
“I’m really glad we ran into each other.” Jason’s voice was deeper than a moment ago, and Cassie could see a hint of a blush in his cheeks. “I like how the universe keeps bringing us together.”
“Me too.” Cassie felt a pull to lean closer. Her last encounter with Jason hadn’t gone over well—she’d accidentally punched him in the face, after all—but she was a different person now. She was brave, and she was ready.
But it turned out the universe had a sense of humor. Just as they leaned closer, someone bumped into Jason, sending his glass of water across the bar. He jumped to clean it up and apologize to the woman on the other side of Cassie who now sported a soaking wet arm. The man who hit Jason didn’t even look back to say he was sorry.
With the moment properly ruined, it didn’t come as a surprise when Jules showed up with Cassie’s jacket in hand. She looked at Jason with wide eyes and an enormous smile but said nothing.
After all, they’d have the entire ride home to discuss everything that hadn’t happened.
8
Detective Harris took a deep breath and brushed the fur off her jacket before she knocked on Chief Clementine’s door. She didn’t mind watching Apollo and Bear, but she needed to add an extra ten minutes to her morning routine to use a lint roller before heading to the station.
This morning, she’d been less than successful at removing the evidence.
But it was too late now, and she didn’t want to waste anymore of the Chief’s time. She heard a muffled response to her knock, so she twisted the doorknob and walked inside, closing the door behind her with an audible click.
Chief Sandra Clementine was a constant picture of perfection. Her dark copper skin was flawless, and the lines on her clothes were always sharp. She had pulled half her hair back into a ponytail, but her locks still fell past her shoulders. She was a tall woman with broad shoulders and rippling muscles, and every ounce exuded power and control.
Her office always smelled like oranges, and it was the only comforting part of the room. There was a single picture of her husband on her desk, but the rest of the office was void of any personal touches. If nothing else, everyone knew the Chief kept her personal and professional lives separate.
“Have a seat, Detective.”
Harris followed orders. She unbuttoned her jacket and sat down, crossing her legs to appear more comfortable than she was. She didn’t know why the Chief had called her into her office, but she had a few guesses.
Clementine pushed a few pieces of paper out of the way and folded her hands on top of her desk. She waited until Harris met her gaze before she spoke. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
Clementine leveled her with a stare.
Harris had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. “I’ve been better. I’m not really sure what you want me to say, Chief.”
“The truth, to start.” Clementine leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “Look, I’m not your therapist, so you don’t have to tell me anything. But it’s still my job to make sure my people are taken care of. I want to know what you need. What I can do for you.”
Harris knew better than to tell her what she really needed. Revenge. That wouldn’t sit well with the Chief of Police. So she went for another version of the truth. “I want to nail Aguilar to the wall. I want to make sure David gets justice.”
“We don’t know if Aguilar killed David.”
“Even if he didn’t pull the trigger—”
“We still don’t know.” Clementine shook her head. “We have to be smart about this, Adelaide. I’m on your side, but we can’t be rash. I have to know you won’t be rash.”
Harris froze. “Do you know something I don’t know?”
“You have as much information as I do. We’ve got everyone working on this. The second cop shot within the last two weeks. I don’t know if there’s a connection, but if there is, this could get out of hand. It already has. The newspapers are running stories on how there’s a cop killer on the loose.”
“I don’t care what the newspapers say.”
“You should. I do.” Clementine tossed her hair over one shoulder, and Harris could feel the frustration behind the movement. “You know the media can influence our case. The more they sensationalize it, the harder it’s going to be for us to solve it. I need you on my side here.”
“I am on your side.” She wanted nothing more than to be given the reins on this one, but Clementine hadn’t handed them over yet. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“To start, I need you to answer my question.”
Something told Harris the Chief wouldn’t believe her if she insisted she was fine. So, once again, she went for a version of the truth. “Like I said, I’ve been better. I keep expecting him to call me or text me. I look over at his desk, and it takes a minute to remember he’s not just grabbing coffee in the break room.”
“Every once in a while, he’d bring me a cup of coffee if I hadn’t left my desk in a few hours.” Clementine chuckled at the memory. “I didn’t realize how much I appreciated that until I remembered it would never happen again.”
“I’m angry.” Harris hadn’t intended to tell her that, but it was hard to hide. “Angrier than I’ve ever been. I’m angry at whoever did this. I’m angry at myself. I’m angry at David.”
“A lot of people will tell you not to be angry. They’ll say anger doesn�
��t solve any problems. But they’re wrong.” Harris must’ve looked shocked because Clementine smiled. “Didn’t think I’d say that, huh? Anger can be a powerful tool. But it can also be a dangerous one. I want to know if you can get a handle on your anger long enough to solve this case for us.”
“I can.” Harris sat up straighter. “I promise I can.”
Clementine didn’t answer right away, and when she did, she chose her words carefully. “You’re a good detective, Adelaide. A great one. David liked you a lot. He saw a lot of potential in you. For the record, so do I. You’re by the book, and I like that. There are too many cops out there who think they can break the rules and get away with it because they caught the bad guy. That’s not how the real world works.”
“I feel like I won’t like what’s coming next.”
“But,” Clementine said, “even good cops get wrapped up in bad shit. I’m not saying you will, but I’m warning you to keep your head clear. David needs you at your best. If Aguilar is behind this, then we need to do it right. Otherwise, we lose our shot at putting him behind bars.”
Harris knew Aguilar deserved worse than sitting in a cell for the rest of his life, but she wasn’t about to say that to the Chief. “I understand. I want him in jail as much as anyone.”
“I know you do.” Clementine opened her desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. “This is David’s case file. It has everything we know about how he died and what we found on him. I want you to talk to Lisa first. We’ve done some preliminary interviews, but she knows you best. Asked for you by name, actually.”
Harris looked up from the file folder. “Did she say why?”
“No. That’s what I want you to find out.” Clementine hesitated before she spoke again. “Listen, this won’t be an easy case. For anyone. Are you sure you can do this?”
Harris had never felt so sure in her life. “I want answers.”
“You’ll get your answers,” Clementine said. “What I want to know is if you’re ready for them.”
Harris thought she knew if she was ready, but when she opened her mouth to respond, no words came out.
9
The twinge of a headache made Cassie squint against the setting sun, even though she wore sunglasses. Her pounding head had abated for a while, but her Uber driver’s choice in music opened the door for its return. With every guitar riff and drumbeat, she felt like puking. It was hard to say if she’d ever drink another tequila sunrise again.
Cassie pressed her head against the cool window and shut her eyes. Last night felt like a fever dream. One minute, she was moping around a table full of strangers, and the next she was sitting at a bar with Jason, hoping the universe wasn’t playing a cruel joke on her.
But as many times as she replayed it over in her mind, she couldn’t deny it had been real. It was a quick conversation—and, true, they had mostly talked about the people they’d recently lost—but it had happened. And so had that almost-kiss.
Statistically speaking, she was due for a moment alone with him void of disaster—right?
The car hit a bump and jostled Cassie, causing her forehead to smack against the window. She stifled a groan and squeezed her eyes shut tighter. She’d spent the entire morning chugging water and feeling like death warmed up. After a hot shower and an equally hot breakfast, she felt almost human.
The only thing that kept her going was a text message from Jason earlier that morning, inviting her out to dinner. She had agreed on one condition—she got to pick dessert. He’d made some smart-ass comment that, given their history, they probably shouldn’t go for ice cream, but little did he know she had something much more unpredictable in mind.
But they’d only get there if she could make it through the meal.
By the time she pulled up to Armand’s Bar & Grill, her headache had receded, and hunger replaced nausea. It didn’t hurt that the aroma of surf and turf emanating from the restaurant made her mouth water. It wasn’t a large establishment, but it packed a flavorful punch.
Jason was waiting for her at a table inside. He stood up as she entered, wearing a collared shirt and dark wash jeans. She was glad she’d dressed casually, but the way he was looking at her, you’d think she looked like Cinderella at the ball.
She didn’t hate the way it made her feel.
“Hi.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. It was contagious. “How are you?”
“I’m great.” When he leveled her with a look, she rolled her eyes. Which made her head twinge again. “I’m still hungover. Don’t judge me.”
“I would never.” The waiter came to take their drink orders, and Jason could barely keep the smirk off his face. “I’ll take water. Cassie, do you want a tequila sunrise?”
“Water.” Cassie tried to scowl, but she couldn’t hide her smile, either. “Water will be perfect.”
“I’ll get that right in for you.”
“Oh, and could you tell Armand that Jay Broussard is here? He’ll kill me if he knows I ate at his restaurant and didn’t say hi.”
The waiter laughed like he and Jason shared a secret and then retreated to the back. Cassie raised an eyebrow. “I feel like I should call you Jay instead of Jason.”
“I like when you call me Jason.” His eyes lit up as he caught the blush on her face. “Everyone I knew as a kid still calls me Jay.”
As if on cue, a large Black man wearing an apron and a chef’s hat pushed through the kitchen doors with a slight limp to his walk. He stopped in the middle of the room. The man was twice as wide as Jason and at least two heads taller. He would’ve been one of the most intimidating men Cassie had ever seen if it weren’t for the smile that stretched from ear to ear, pushing his cheeks up so high you could hardly see his eyes.
“Jay Broussard as I live and breathe.”
“Armand.”
Cassie liked the way Armand said Jason’s last name, with the slightest hint of a French accent. He sounded like the woman from the plane, and it was clearly the result of a New Orleanian upbringing. Jason stood to hug the other man, and Armand slapped him so hard on the back, Jason’s knees almost buckled.
Then he spotted Cassie.
“And who is this beautiful woman you’re sharing your table with, Jay? Where are your manners?”
“This is Cassie Quinn.” Jason hesitated for only a fraction of a moment, but Cassie thought Armand caught it, too. “I know her from back in Savannah. At the museum.”
Armand’s eyes sparkled. He reached out and engulfed Cassie’s hand in both of his. They were warm, and at this close range, she could smell the garlic emanating from him. It was not an unpleasant aroma. “It is wonderful to meet you, Ms. Quinn.”
“Please, call me Cassie.”
“Cassie.” He patted her hand one last time and let go, spreading his arms wide. “I am Armand, the owner of this fine establishment. I cook every meal myself. Anything you want, it’s on the house.”
“Armand—”
Armand ignored Jason. “I owe this man my life. We go through this every time he comes here. I say his meal is on the house, he tells me he has to give me something, I threaten him, and he leaves my servers a hundred-dollar tip.” He clapped his hands together. “For the sake of expediency, let’s just get to the part where you both order anything you want off the menu.”
“Pasta.” Cassie hadn’t even looked at her options. “Your biggest bowl of pasta. Please. I need carbs.”
Jason laughed. “I’ll take the second biggest bowl of pasta.”
“Coming right up!” Armand slapped Jason on the back again, almost sending him face first into a goblet full of water. As the larger-than-life man walked away, Cassie could hear him muttering, “Jay Broussard, as I live and breathe,” under his breath and chuckling.
The server didn’t look at all fazed by Armand’s entrance or his departure, though Cassie couldn’t imagine ever getting used to how that man filled a room. The other guests had turned to watch their interaction, and she saw a few people leani
ng close to whisper to each other, probably wondering who Jason was.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” the server said.
“Thank you.” Cassie waited until he left to turn back to Jason. “Saved his life, huh?”
Jason shook his head. “I was a combat medic for a few years. He was wounded in the field. It was a while before we found him. He lost his leg, but it could’ve been worse. I was the one who pulled him out of the pit and treated him until we got back to base. The doctors at camp did the hard part, but the way Armand tells it, I brought him back from the dead.”
“He seems like a good friend.” She took a sip of water, knowing her curiosity was about to get the best of her. “I didn’t know you were a combat medic.”
Jason shrugged. It was a motion she could only describe as humility. “I’ve done a bit of everything. I was probably an MP for the longest, though.”
“Military Police?” Cassie cocked her head to the side. “I don’t think I know much about what they do.”
“Depends on the branch. And the assignment. It took me to a lot of different places. Met a lot of different people.” He smiled. “I just realized who you remind me of.”
“Who?”
“This MP I used to know. She was probably the toughest person I’ve ever met. I hated training with her. She’d kick my ass without breaking a sweat.”
Cassie laughed. “That sounds nothing like me.”
“You’re tough, too.”
“Oh yeah, you definitely want me on your side in a bar fight.” She flexed her arms. “The other guys wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Jason shook his head, but he laughed. “I think you’d be pretty scrappy in a fight. But that’s not what I mean.” He paused, like he was searching for the perfect words. “She always looked like she had the entire weight of the world on her shoulders. Like she dared the universe to throw her something she couldn’t handle just so she could prove it wrong. You look that way sometimes.”