She imagined Lonnie was feeling very sorry for himself right now. He had an excellent law firm fighting the charges against him, but as smart as Lonnie was, he’d made one enormous mistake.
Lena figured it was arrogance that had brought him down. Lonnie never considered the possibility that the GBI would seize his home computer. Even without the murders, kidnappings, and trafficking, the state had found enough child porn on the chief’s hard drive to send him away for a hundred years.
Stupid, sick bastard.
Last month, Lena had run a 10K with Lonnie. They were raising money for leukemia research. Lonnie had thirty years on her, but he’d beaten her to the finish line. Lena relished the thought of his strong heart ticking away as he marked off prison time for the rest of his miserable life. She hoped some big, nasty con did to Lonnie Gray exactly what he’d done to Marie Sorensen and all those other poor kids. Lena hoped they did it to him every second of every day until Lonnie fell over from exhaustion. And then she hoped they picked him back up and started all over again.
Lena wanted to think Lonnie’s imprisonment would help Marie Sorensen’s mom and the Winser family sleep better at night, but she knew from experience that some demons never went away.
The door opened again. Patterson stood with his hand on the knob. He didn’t enter the room. He looked highly annoyed, which told her everything she needed to know.
Lena said, “I guess the rat didn’t get his cheese.”
She didn’t wait for Patterson’s response. She brushed past him, flashing her teeth the same as she had for the camera. Lena knew that she shouldn’t push it, that she hadn’t gotten away with anything, but anytime you left the rat squad with your badge intact was a reason to celebrate.
Lena felt her smile abruptly drop when she saw Denise Branson standing in the hallway. She had known that Denise was in the building, but Lena had prayed like hell that she would never have to see the woman again. Not that Lena had ever had a prayer answered before in her life.
Nor had she ever seen Denise Branson so obviously uncomfortable. It was hard to look at. She shuffled from one foot to another.
She wouldn’t look Lena in the eye. There was an air of humiliation about her, as if she’d been beaten down so many times over the last four days that she’d forgotten what it was like to get back up.
Patterson said, “Ms. Branson?”
His tone had a snarky edge to it that Lena didn’t like. If the man had kept silent, Lena probably would’ve never spoken to Denise again. As it was, she asked the woman, “You need a bathroom break?”
Denise was obviously surprised by the question. Still, she nodded, and they both headed toward the one place Brock Patterson couldn’t follow them. Lena saw the disappointed look on his face as the door to the ladies’ room closed.
Denise got right to the point. Her voice had the practiced tone of somebody who was used to apologizing. “I’m sorry. I’ve got no excuse for what I did to you.”
Lena prompted, “But?”
“No buts.” Denise seemed resolute. There was none of her usual self-assured swagger. “I misled you about the boy. I dragged you into this without your knowledge. I’ve got the rat squad looking at you when you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Lena asked the question. “Is that why they tried to kill me and Jared, because they thought I knew where the boy was?”
Denise shook her head, then shrugged. “I don’t know, Lee. It doesn’t make sense that they’d go after y’all instead of me.”
Lena kept coming to the same conclusion. She was a dog chasing its tail. “Who else did you tell about the boy?”
“Friends. People I could trust.”
“I thought I was a friend you could trust.”
This time, Denise had an excuse. “I thought I was protecting you.”
“That’s a lie,” Lena said. “You didn’t trust anybody at work. Not me, not Lonnie. You knew something was wrong. You thought
there was a mole, and you thought it could be anybody from the top down.”
Denise let out a heavy sigh. She looked like she couldn’t muster the strength to argue anymore.
Lena asked, “Did you suspect Lonnie was Big Whitey?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. Lena could tell from her expression that this was the truth. “It seemed odd that Big Whitey was getting tipped off. I thought maybe it was one of Lonnie’s secretaries or somebody on your team.”
“Or me?”
Denise’s gaze settled somewhere behind Lena. “I didn’t think so, but the stakes were too high for that kind of risk.”
Lena studied Denise Branson, thinking not for the first time that she was looking at herself five years ago. The old Lena would’ve absolutely tried to go it alone. She didn’t trust anybody. She didn’t lean on anybody. She never asked for help. She thought there was only one person in the entire world who could do things the right way. Even today, all those tendencies were still there. Lena spent a good deal of her time battling her baser impulses. Sometimes she won. A lot of times she still lost. She consoled herself with the knowledge that at least she was trying.
Lena said, “I heard Lonnie was in the mayor’s office when they grabbed him. Took him straight out the front door of city hall so God and everybody could see him.”
Denise grinned, obviously familiar with the story. “That blonde chick’s the one who arrested him. Agent Mitchell. I bet she kept her foot up his ass the whole time.”
Lena didn’t doubt it. “If Lonnie was half the man he claimed to be, he’d find a way to kill himself, save the courts the trouble.”
“Give me a damn shiv, I’ll do it myself.”
“Get in line.” Lena blew out a long breath “I can’t waste anymore of my time on that bastard. How’re the boys doing?”
Denise’s face lit up with something that could only be described
as pure joy. “They’re good, Lee. I put Aaron in his mama’s arms myself. He’s surrounded by family. He’s back with his brother. It’s gonna be tough, but they’ve all got each other.”
Again, Lena got the strange sensation of looking at herself. All those balls juggled in the air were worth it when you managed to keep them going. Watching them fly brought a bigger rush than any drug on the street. Of course, the high never lasted. No one could keep juggling that many balls for long. The first time one of them dropped, you wanted to die. The second time, you felt bad. The third and fourth times, you just found another ball to throw up into the air and moved on.
Lena had dropped so many balls in her lifetime that she’d lost count.
She told Denise, “I forgive you.”
Denise looked surprised, then wary. “Why?”
“I have no idea,” Lena confessed. She was living proof that second chances worked, but she’d never been able to extend that courtesy to anyone else. Losing Jeffrey Tolliver had taught her a lot of things, but the possibility of losing Jared had floored her.
Denise asked, “You wanna think about it?”
“No.” Lena offered the naked, unadorned truth. “DeShawn and Eric are dead. Lonnie turned out to be Satan. Paul’s put in an application for the Atlanta PD. Jared almost died.” Lena felt a lump in her throat. She left her little bean off the list, but the memory was still raw. “I guess I can’t afford to lose anybody else.”
Denise was still skeptical. “It’s probably my fault you and Jared almost got killed. I could’ve gotten you fired. It’s only through the grace of God that those assholes in IA believe your story.”
“You think they believe me?” Lena laughed. “The only reason I’m not on the street or in a jail cell is they can’t prove anything.” She walked to the sink and turned on the faucet. The water was ice cold. Lena bent down and drank from the tap.
Denise said, “I’ve been a bad friend to you. I know that.” Her
voice went low. “And I know you’ve been going through some things. Before all this, I mean.”
Lena turned off the faucet. Denise wasn’t the only one with trust issues. It had never occurred to Lena to talk to anybody about losing the baby—not to Jared, not to Denise, not even to herself. Truthfully, it felt like too much of a failure, something she should be ashamed of.
And even if it didn’t feel that way, Lena wasn’t about to pour out her heart in the women’s toilet at the police station.
She told Denise, “It’s all right. It’s something I had to go through on my own.”
“I get that.” Denise wasn’t one to sit around gazing at her navel, either. “I’m here if you want to talk, though.”
Lena looked down at her hand. It was resting on the sink instead of pressed to her empty belly. She wondered if that’s how it happened—incrementally. The nurse from Dr. Benedict’s office had been right about one thing: it didn’t go away, but it got different.
Lena let out another long breath. She looked at the mirror over the sink, thinking she’d aged about twenty years since this all started. “Jared’s been bugging the shit out of me. I could use an excuse to get out of the house.”
Denise caught Lena’s gaze in the mirror. “Me, too.”
Lena waited.
Denise cleared her throat. She struggled to speak. “Her name’s Lila. We’ve been dating for a while.”
Lena didn’t push it. “How long is IA gonna keep you here?”
“Long as it takes.”
“Call me when you’re finished. We’ll go to Barney’s.”
Denise looked away. The beaten-down expression was back. Barney’s was a cop bar. She obviously didn’t want to be seen by the men she used to command.
“You know what?” Lena grabbed a handful of paper towels.
“As far as I can tell, you were the only cop on this entire force who saw something was wrong with Lonnie. You saved that kidnapped boy’s life. You kept him hidden and safe. You made sure he got home to his family. You gave Marie Sorensen’s mother a face to the name. You took a vicious predator off the streets. You wrapped all of this up in a pretty bow for the state to untie.” She tossed the paper towels into the trash. “Am I right? You did all that?”
“That’s one way to phrase it.”
“As far as I’m concerned, that’s the only way to phrase it to any asshole who asks.”
Denise shook her head. She saw where this was going. “IA isn’t gonna see me as a hero, Lee. They’re gonna fire my ass as soon as it hits the chair.”
“Then you tell them you’ll go straight to whichever news station will take you. Hell, go to the nationals. Go up to Canada. Tell them what you did to save that boy, and then let the Macon PD explain why they fired you for it.” Lena laughed at the thought. “If they need somebody to corroborate your story, give them my number.”
Denise stared openly. “You are one crazy bitch. You know that?”
“Maybe.” Lena rested her hand on the door, but didn’t open it. “I’ve been exactly where you are right now too many times not to know how to dig out of it.”
“You really think that’s gonna work?”
“Never underestimate the modern police force’s aversion to bad publicity,” Lena said, thinking she should put that on a plaque by her office door. “Don’t let them hit your pension. That’s what they’ll go after first. Don’t let them bust your rank to anything lower than detective.” Lena smiled as she thought of something. “What do you think Paul’s odds are getting onto the Atlanta PD?”
Denise smiled, too. “White male, ex-military? They’ll roll out the red carpet.”
“Either way, I’ll need a new partner.”
“Little salt and pepper?”
“More like
Chico and the Man
.” Lena held open the door. Her smile dropped for the second time that day.
Will Trent was leaning against the wall. His face was a mess. Black and blue bruises were punctuated by dark red spots that were about the size of a grown man’s knuckles.
Lena told Denise, “Call me about that beer.”
“You got it.” Denise didn’t look at Will as she headed toward the interrogation room. Patterson was standing sentry in the doorway. He glared at Lena. She resisted the urge to stick out her tongue at him.
Will waited until Denise had shut the door. He told Lena, “I see Jared’s out and about.” She must’ve looked confused, because he said, “I just saw him go into the locker room.”
Lena felt her jaw clench. She was going to kill Jared. After all her stupid husband had survived, she was going to strangle him with her bare hands.
Will nodded down the hall toward Denise. “She going to be okay?”
“What do you think?” Lena asked. She wasn’t being belligerent. The state would have a lot of sway in Denise’s case.
Will said, “I think the department has enough bad press without pissing off somebody like Denise Branson.”
Lena wondered how much Will had heard standing out in the hallway. “She seems ready to take her medicine.”
“In my experience, people like that don’t generally stay down for the count.” He stared his meaning into her. They both knew Lena had a habit of rising from the ashes.
“Right.” Lena looked at her watch, though the only thing on her immediate agenda was to drag her idiot husband home by the collar. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
“I’m already finished. I was waiting to talk to you.”
Lena felt dread flood through her body. “About what?”
“To tell you that you were right.”
She laughed, thinking this was some kind of joke. “Right about what?”
“The attack. IA wanted me to wait until you were cleared to tell you.”
Lena wasn’t laughing anymore. “Tell me what?”
“It wasn’t your fault. The reason those two men went to your house that night was because Jared said something at your doctor’s office.”
Lena couldn’t make sense of the words. It was like he was speaking Japanese.
Will explained, “Cayla Martin was filling in for one of the nurses at Dr. Benedict’s office while you were there. She overheard Jared talking about Big Whitey.”
Lena’s mouth didn’t just open in surprise. Her jaw practically grazed the floor. Cayla Martin. The name had sounded familiar when Lena first heard it three days ago, but she’d never in a million years put it together. “I thought she just worked at the hospital. That she was Tony Dell’s stepsister.”
“She did part-time work at Dr. Benedict’s office.” Will spoke carefully, like he was explaining it to a child. “Cayla overheard Jared telling you that Lonnie Gray was Big Whitey.”
“No.” Lena felt a dry laugh scratch her throat. The conversation sounded more and more like a really bad joke. “He wasn’t serious.”