Page 10 of Shadows of Justice

Or fired.

Fucked, either way.

“That was Leo Barone?” I croak, “I honestly didn’t realize. There was so much going on, and Eliana was my main priority, sir. I didn’t recognize him.”

The chief leans on the top of the desk and levels me with a cold stare.

“You didn’t recognize him?” he repeats incredulously. “We have debriefs on high-profile wanted cases in the area twice a month. Leo Barone is always in that debrief. You really think we believe that bullshit?”

Captain Jennings looks pained on my behalf and starts to step in.

“Chief—”

“You’re dismissed,” the chief says.

I gulp. I am so fired.

I start to rise, fighting against the tears of shame and utter frustration because—they’re absolutely right. I deserve exactly what’s coming to me.

“Not you.” The chief turns his head slightly toward Jennings. “You, captain. I would like a word with my daughter in private.”

Chapter Four - Maxine

Friday, July 10th

“I’ve got some calls to make,” Captain Jennings murmurs, by way of saving face over the humiliation of being dismissed from his own office. I hear the door click behind me and blink away the burning behind my eyes. My father hasn’t seen me cry since our dog got hit by a car when I was twelve, and I’m not about to let him see vulnerability in me now.

“Look at me.”

I roll my eyes to him, a sharp, burning defiance filtering through my stomach. It’s always been there, I’ve just never acted on it. Not even as an “angsty teenager.” I was a pretty easy kid, considering what an asshole of a father I had.

“I know that story you just told was a load of shit,” he says, his tone daring me to argue with him. “You fucked up, and you’re covering your ass. Don’t need to be Chief of Police to see that. Jennings sees it, I’m sure your partner sees it, and I just watched you witness it for yourself when you watched that recording. It was written all over your face.”

My eyes narrow and I feel my chin tip up defiantly. “Wasn’t it you that always told me that ‘there’s a time to speak up, and a time to shut the fuck up, and to be be smart enough to know the difference?’”

He grunts, and maybe I spot a shred of pride pass over his wrinkled face. Not arguing was definitely the correct move. I might have just bought myself five more minutes of life.

“You always were a lousy liar. You’re lucky only I know that,” he says, sitting heavily down in the captain’s chair and folding his hands over his stomach.

“I didn’t lie. I didn’t . . .” My voice breaks. “I truly didn’t know that it was him. Not until it was too late and he was already gone. Eliana was my focus.”

“Right,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Kids, kids, kids. That’s always where your mind's at. Of course, you ain’t havin’ one any time soon.”

“Married to the job, pops. Just like you.” I sneer at him, the full meaning of my dig coming through in my tone. He never had the decency to marry my mother. Not even when she knew that she was going to die.

“Well, I’m not going to sit here and pretend that there aren’t moments in this job that require some creativity when in a tight space. I just hope that next time you have the sense to be aware of your surroundings, and maybe not let a wanted criminal get away.”

He rises, and I will this moment to be over.

“You know, that detective promotion will be coming across my desk again in a few weeks. I’m not sure what exactly you’d like me to do now, especially after a fuck-up like this.” He comes around the side of the desk to look down on me. Standing over me this way, he looks just like he did when I was a child, constantly making me feel like a disobedient screwup. My fingers dig into the armrests of the chair, years of belittlement echoing in my ears. “Maybe you were just made for patrol, Schaeffer,” he adds, chuckling.

He opens the door and Captain Jennings meanders past, pretending to be busy. The chief nods at him, shakes his hand, and then heads down the hallway. Jennings ends his call and comes back inside, shutting the door and taking a seat back behind his desk.

“What happens now?” I ask, my chin quivering. I clench my jaw to stop its motion.

Jennings sighs, running a hand across his forehead. He’s stressed. I’ve stressed him out. Polished, stressful turd.

“Now, you write an addendum to your report for the third, outlining exactly what happened, including Barone’s name.” He looks up at me and slowly shakes his head. “This isn’t you, Viv. I don’t know what got into you last week, or what’s going on with you right now,” he looks pointedly down my frame, “just . . . fix it. I don’t want to see you crash and burn. You’re going to do really great things in your career, and I’m honored to be a witness to it. But this can’t happen again. Fix it, okay?”

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