Damaged Goods (Don't Call Me Hero Book 2) (12 page)

“Thanks.”

Sergeant Hammond leaned forward. “How’s he treating you?”

“Just fine.” Even though I still thought Mendez was a jerk, I wasn’t going to complain about him, especially not with a desk jockey looking for petty gossip to spread around the department. I gave the man a quick smile and a wave. “See ya later.”

I walked back in the direction of the men’s locker room. The halls were largely empty with most first shifters already clocked in. I turned a corner and found Mendez leaning against a wall in the hallway outside of the women’s locker room. I was about to approach him, a quip about him hiding on me ready on my tongue, until I saw the cell phone pressed to his ear. I’d never seen my partner on his phone before, and my curiosity about what he did off-duty had me ducking back around the corner and out of sight.

“The transfer’s been going okay,” I heard him say. “The cops in Four are a little rough around the edges, but no one’s given me a hard time. They’ve got me with a chick who’s already been through San Jose before,” he continued. “I don’t know why they’re making her do it again.”

I couldn’t hear what the person on the other end of the phone call was saying, but it didn’t matter. Mendez was talking enough for the both of them.

“Waste of time, babysitting a badge bunny,” he grumbled. “At least she’s easy on the eyes though.”

I’d heard enough. I stepped out from around the corner and cleared my throat. “You ready?”

Mendez’s mouth dropped open when he saw me. “Oh, um, yeah,” he said in a slightly strangled voice.

“I’ll see you out at the car,” I clipped.

Not giving him time to explain or to reply, I spun on my heels and briskly strode out of the precinct and towards the parking garage to squad car number 432. It was my own fault for eavesdropping, but Mendez’s words hurt. To be called a badge bunny was just about the worst insult a female cop could receive. It implied I was a police officer for all the wrong reasons, and that I had no business with a badge and gun. I think I preferred it when Mendez didn’t talk at all.

I didn’t have the car keys, so I waited by the passenger door until my partner appeared to unlock the car. He stayed silent, barely looking in my direction as he climbed in.

I sat rigidly in my seat while Mendez radioed central dispatch that we were in service and ready for our first call. In the absence of a pressing complaint, Mendez pulled the squad car out of the garage and we began the ritual of patrolling our beat.  

Mendez stopped at a red light, and we sat uncomfortably in the idling car. “Miller, I was out of line back there.”

I stared out the front passenger side window. “Let’s just forget it, okay?”

I could feel the telltale prick of stinging tears in the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let myself get emotional about this. I only had to put up with Mendez for two more months, and then I’d be reassigned to my own beat or to a different partner. I could always complain about him to Inspector Garnett or to the police union, but that wasn’t my style. Instead, I chalked it up to another trial to be endured.

The morning had begun slowly, but after the noon hour, the calls from dispatch had picked up. Normally there was time between calls where we could get a jump on paperwork, but the radio had been going nonstop with one complaint after the next. I was actually thankful for the busy afternoon because it made the workday move more quickly, and with less idle time, Mendez and I didn’t have the opportunity to rehash what I’d overheard that morning. He had been quiet all day, speaking only when it was necessary to do our job, and even then he had been uncharacteristically deferential and polite.

I was clock watching by the end of our shift. Julia’s mother’s case was scheduled for a late afternoon hearing, and if I planned it right, I would have just enough time to change clothes at the precinct and get to family court at the other side of town.

When Mendez drove the squad car back to the precinct lot, I had my seatbelt off and my shotgun out of its dashboard holster before my FTO had shut off the engine.

“Got any plans tonight?”

“Me?” It took a moment to realize that Mendez had asked me a question. More startling, it was a non-job related question. It made me wonder if overhearing him on the phone might actually be good for our working relationship. “Yeah, I’m, uh, heading over to family court right now.”

“Family court?” Mendez snorted. “What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. The woman I’m dating is trying to get custody of her mother.”

“Wow. You’re gay?”

My nostrils flared as I prepared for a fight. “Yeah. Got a problem with that?”

Mendez held up his hands in surrender. “I’ve got nothing against gay people. My sister’s a lesbian. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Well maybe if you took the time to get to know me,” I pointed out.

“You’re right. I’ve been a real asshole. Think we can call a truce? Maybe start again?”

“Sure, as long as you don’t make me restart my probation.”

“Believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do,” Mendez remarked. “So what’s up with the family court thing? What’s wrong with your girlfriend’s mom?”

I hesitated. It wasn’t my story to tell. I was sure Julia wouldn’t have wanted a stranger to be privy to so many details about her family life. “It’s a long story, but basically it’s in her mom’s best interest if she’s awarded guardianship.”

“Family drama can be pretty ugly,” Mendez frowned.  “I hope she’s got a good lawyer.”

“The best.” I couldn’t help bragging a little. “She’s handling her own case, actually. She used to be a city prosecutor up north, but now she’s a public defender for a nonprofit group in the city.”

“So you’re sleeping with the enemy,” he clucked.

My eyebrows knit together. “How do you figure?”

“She defends criminals.”

“She defends people who’ve been accused of a crime,” I corrected him. “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“Bullshit. They wouldn’t have gotten arrested if they hadn’t done something wrong.”

I pressed my lips together to form a straight line. “I’m going to have to respectfully disagree with you.”

“You can disagree all you want,” Mendez bristled. “Just make sure you finish up that paperwork before you leave.”

+ + +

Family court took place in a depressing little building across town in a different structure than where other kinds of criminal and civil court cases were tried. Even though it was later in the afternoon, the courthouse was abuzz with activity between the shuffling of jurors from one room to the next and anxious friends and family members awaiting the sentencing of a loved one.

I traveled down a labyrinth of depressing hallways until I found the room where Julia’s mother’s custody hearing was being held. Paperwork and rush hour traffic had caused me to be about forty-five minutes behind schedule, but walking in late to a trial typically wasn’t problematic. Staff usually milled in and out of the courtrooms throughout the day along with people who showed up early for their court time.

I paused in front of the large, windowless, double doors to ready myself. This was an important day, an important moment. No matter what happened, I would have to be there for Julia in her disappointment or to deal with the inevitable backlash from her father if she won custody. She was helping me shoulder my own mess, and I wanted to be able to do the same.

I enter the courtroom and stood in the back, scanning the faces of the people present. I didn’t recognize anyone, and the longer I stayed at the back of the room, the more unsettled I became. Was I in the wrong room? Had Julia’s case been reassigned or postponed?

Before I could become a distraction, I returned to the hallway and texted Julia:
I’m at court. Where are you?”

An unfamiliar voice spoke to me. “Can I help you with something? You look lost.”

A young man, balding before his years, regarded me. His suit and leather suitcase made him look official, like he belonged there.

“Maybe. Do you work here?”

“Not yet—hopefully someday though. I’m a law student at the university. As part of our course work, we have to sit in on trials to observe the proceedings.”

“There was supposed to be a custody trial in this room.” I jerked my thumb in the direction of where I’d just come. “A guardianship case over an elderly woman.”

“The Desjardins?”

I nodded, surprised he’d correctly identified the case. “Yeah. Do you know if the hearing got moved or was postponed?”

“They’ve already adjourned.”

“What? But I’m only a little late!” I exclaimed.

The man shrugged. “Cases get bumped up all the time and sometimes they don’t last very long if the evidence was submitted ahead of time.”

I ran my hand over my face. “Shit.”

He chuckled to himself. “Who knew family court could be so exciting?”

“What happened?”

“A whole lot of arguing. And not like typical trial debating—I thought the bailiff was going to have to restrain the opposing lawyers at one point.”

The unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach intensified. “Oh, no.”

“Most entertaining thing I saw all day,” he unnecessary added.

“Who won?”

“Pardon?”

“The court case? Who was awarded custody?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I got a phone call, so I had to leave the room. When I came back, the judge had moved on to a new case.”

I thanked the man for his information and promptly left the courthouse. I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. And I had no idea how to make amends. I doubted Hallmark made an
I’m Sorry
card for this kind of scenario.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Julia’s face was unreadable when she let me into her apartment. She hadn’t changed out of her work clothes from that morning, including the high heels.

“Hi.” I produced a bouquet of flowers I had picked up on the way. The cellophane wrapping made a cheap crinkling sound, and the flower petals were a little wilted from being packed into one of the saddlebags on my bike, but they were a passable present.

Her dark eyes blinked, betraying no emotion. “Vases are in the dining room, in the built-in buffet.”

She left me standing in the foyer while she retreated to the kitchen, high heels clicking on the dark hardwood floors.

I slipped out of my boots and carefully arranged them beside her rain boots and running shoes, the only footwear she allowed in the entryway. The rest of her shoes lived in their original boxes in their own hallway closet.

I set the flower arrangement on the dining room table, but didn’t seek out a vase. Julia stood at the kitchen sink with her back to me. Her shoulders were rigid as she hand-washed the dishes from breakfast that morning. I wanted to ask her how the trial had gone, but her body language told me everything I needed to know.

“I’m sorry I missed your mom’s custody hearing,” I began my apology. “I really wanted to be there, but Mendez made me stay late and do his paperwork. The guy’s a real asshole,” I scowled. “I’ll be so glad when my probation is over.”

Julia remained silent and continued her task, seemingly ignoring my presence. The only sounds came from a Bluetooth speaker on the counter that played classical music and from the dishes knocking against the stainless steel sink as she cleaned.

I took a tentative step toward her, treading lightly as if the ground were covered in hidden mines. One misstep could be my last. I stood near her, close, but not quite touching. She continued to hold her body erect, and I feared my touch might cause her to lash out.

“Julia,” I tried again, heart in my throat. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” I echoed.

The dishes clanked even louder in the sink. “We’ve recessed until tomorrow.”

The weight that had been sitting on my chest shifted, and I breathed a little easier. “So I didn’t miss it?”

“The only thing you missed was my father and I arguing like children. It’s probably for the best that you didn’t have to witness that.”

A deep frown settled on my face. I had never really liked Julia’s dad, not even before I’d arrested him for fraud and embezzlement, and my esteem for the man had plummeted when I’d found out he’d been cheating on his wife.