Page 7 of Shadows of Justice

She kisses me on both cheeks and pulls me back by the shoulders to look at me, the same way she always does when I run into her.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” I say. “How’s the LA field office life treating you? Sick of the sea breeze yet?”

“Ah, chica, it’s good for my soul,” she says, her chocolate eyes smiling. “And they love me there, of course.” She winks at me and laughs, the sound completely contagious.

“Of course.” I laugh along with her.

“How’s patrol? You keeping our streets safe?”

My face falls, thinking of Leo, but I catch myself and paste my smile back on, hopefully before she can notice. Her eyes drill into me. She’s almost as perceptive as Carlos.

“You know it,” I say. “A lot safer with Fernandez and I out there.”

She releases me and squeezes Carlos’s arm in greeting, and then turns to the chief.

“Alfred,” she says to him, and to my amusement, I swear that I see him flinch. “When are you promoting Vivvie so that she can come work for me? I’ve been muy paciente for years now, but the FBI is her calling. She could use the detective experience before I get my hands on her!”

The chief turns his cold stare on me again and it makes me want to cower, but I steel my spine and look at him head on.

“If Officer Schaeffer wanted to be off of patrol, she’d do the work to get there,” he says, deflating my ego in one fell swoop. “I hope, alongside everyone else, that she’ll pull out all the stops for her review next month and be the candidate as deserving of that shield as we all hope her to be.”

He comes close to me, and I can smell the whiskey on his breath.

“I guess we’ll just have to see if she’s got what it takes to get there, and the brains to behave like a professional when necessary.”

Carlos raises his eyebrows pointedly at me from over his shoulder, and there must be a God, because before I can fall flat on my face with a groveling response a call from dispatch comes over our radios requesting backup for crowd control at the 4th of July block party.

“Better answer that, chief,” I say, and then quickly kiss Justine on the cheek in goodbye.

“Be safe,” Justine says, her eyes apologetic. She probably feels bad for bringing it up at all, but it’s not her fault. I open my mouth far too often and make waves, something I’d be commended for if I were a man. But as a woman, I’m just difficult to work with.

Carlos and I leave the building and head to our Interceptor, a scowl on my partner’s face.

“You didn’t have to do that, Viv,” he says. “You should be kissing his ass right now, not kicking it.” I shake my head.

“Someone’s gotta knock him down a few pegs every once in awhile,” I say, laughing even though my face is still hot. “I’ll get to where I want to be one day soon. Whether it’s with the chief’s blessing, or not.”

Almost to the SUV, he stops me with a hand on my elbow.

“No, really. What was that back there? I appreciate your support, you know I do, but picking a fight with the chief? What’s gotten into you?”

I quirk an eyebrow, my lips twitching with a sassy response. He’s right though. That was foolish. I was projecting my anger about my own fuck-up onto a situation that has nothing to do with me.

“Talk to me. We’re partners. I’ve got your back.”

For a minute, I almost let down my guard and tell Carlos about the entire thing with Leo. He’d probably even help me look for him, help me right this wrong. But I swallow it down, knowing that my kick-ass partner is also a Boy Scout, and doesn’t deserve getting roped into drama he’d never have started in the first place.

“You’re right. That was stupid. I guess I’m just wound a little tight,” I say, letting out a sigh and looking at my boots. “I’m off tomorrow. Maybe I’ll get a fucking massage or something, or what other girls do when they’re stressed.”

He huffs a laugh at me, clapping me on the shoulder and jingles the Interceptor keys in the air.

“All right. Sit back and relax then, crabby pants,” he says with a smirk. “Maybe we’ll find you a juicy frat boy to peg at the block party.”

I don’t hold back my laugh at the pig’s squeal that comes out of him when I punch him in the arm. Really hard.

As we drive I’m quiet, contemplating my next move. I don’t exactly feel like I have another choice; my morals are tapping on the door of my conscience harder with every passing moment.

I have to find Leo and make this right.

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