Page 5 of No Sweet Goodbyes

I grab my gun and badge from the safe I had built into the wall by my front door and walk out without looking back. From the desert of California to the forests in Maine, I can’t seem to catch my breath. But as I slide behind the wheel of my truck and turn the ignition, there isn’t a single thing about my life that I’d change.

Hitting dial on my phone and then listening as it connects to my speakers via Bluetooth, I wait for dispatch to answer.

“Dom?” Poppy’s voice rings out loudly, and I wince as I turn down the volume. “What are you doing home? I thought you were out until the end of the week.”

“Linc called,” I explain. “Just mark me on duty, okay?”

“No problem.” She hangs up on me after that, no doubt busy with patrol.

One of the only benefits of having been promoted to detective is the distinct lack of having to call in with my every move. Instead, I pull out onto the road and head in the direction of Emma’s house. I don’t need Linc to text me the address, but I also don’t need him to know that I have his sister’s address memorized, either.

There are some levels of stalker that I won’t admit to.

The ten-minute drive, from one side of Birch to the other, gives me a chance to breathe. To think about what I can possibly say to her, because there isn’t a chance in hell that I’ll be able to wait until I’m home to try and convince her to give me the time of day.

That much is clear by the way I jumped at the chance to help just because she’s involved.

“Two weeks,” I tell the empty cab of my truck as I turn onto her street and see Linc’s cruiser parked in front of her house. I take the spot right behind it, not surprised in the least when I see Emma’s front door open, Linc illuminated by the light behind him. “Two fuckin’ weeks.”

“Thanks, Dom,” Linc says when I close the truck door and walk across the yard to greet my friend. “I know the last thing you wanted to do after getting home after a month was come to work on your first night back.”

“What?” Emma’s quiet voice speaks up from behind Linc. “You’ve been gone for a month?”

Linc winces and lifts his shoulder apologetically, like he’s messed up by saying anything in front of her.

“Yeah,” I tell her while doing my best to keep the blank expression on my face. “Have you heard any more from across the street since you sent your brother a text?” Changing the subject seems like a great idea, especially because I don’t want to get into the whole two-week situation with her. Not while her brother stands right here with us, at least.

“No.” Emma narrows her eyes knowingly. “Bianca fell asleep right after dinner.” She looks over her shoulder suddenly, like the little girl will be standing there with her. “She’s upset, and I’m worried about her… I think maybe the dad hurts her.” Emma turns back to face me with an expression I can’t quite make out. “I don’t want anything to happen to her.” Her voice breaks, and Linc steps in, pulling his sister into his arms.

I stand there, watching the two of them, jealous that I’m not the one comforting Emma, when the distinct sound of a gunshot fills the air.

Every instinct I have jumps into overtime, and Linc shoves Emma back through the open doorway. “Close and lock the door. Call 9-1-1. Tell them two officers are on scene, one in plainclothes.”

I don’t waste precious seconds to explain why she needs to listen. Don’t tell her that if someone is there across the street with a weapon, they might know where the child is. Even though my heart is racing in my chest, and the thought of Emma being in danger is filling my head, I push all of that aside.

There’s no time.

Instead, I plead with her using my eyes.

Please just listen.

Emma nods and shuts the door, locking it.

I turn away from her house, and Linc falls into step beside me, grabbing the mic at his shoulder.

“Dispatch, be advised, shots fired at my location in relation to the 10-45 in the CAD. Requesting backup and 10-57. Have the ambulance stage down the block until we know what’s happening.” His voice cuts into the eerie quiet around us as tension increases. “Both Ortiz and I are on scene.”

“Ten-four.”

There’s silence from the radio as we approach the older brown home, weapons drawn, my flashlight in my hand. Signaling Linc to stand to the other side of the door, I turn and use my boot to make entry.

Linc enters first, his gun held high, his uniform clearly present. “BPD. Drop your weapons.”

No response.

No other sound but the two of us quietly stepping into the house.

We clear the living room, light shining down on us from the fixture in the middle of the room, casting shadows and adding an ominous feeling to the already bad situation.

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