Page 201 of Black Bird

“He’s alive, but barely.” Jenkins pressed two fingers to Brent’s neck. Wren ripped the tape from her mouth, and it hung in her hair. “This is Detective Brandon Jenkins, badge number 84476 … I’ve got an off—” he paused, looking towards the woods, and then at Rhaena. She shook her head rapidly. “We need an ambulance and a coroner at the Stratford residence immediately.”

“She wasn’t working for him, Rhae,” Wren sniffled, nodding towards Conrad’s assistant. “He was blackmailing her.”

Rhaena returned her attention to the dying woman. “He did it …” Gretchen breathed, trembling. “H-he did everything. I’m not—sorry … I’m not …” Gretchen struggled for a couple seconds but wasn’t able to speak another word. Rhaena grabbed her hands and held them as she took her last gurgling breath. Gretchen’s eyes stared lifelessly up at the sky, and Rhaena turned to look at Jenkins. The phone slid from his ear … slowly, and his eyes closed. He was just doing his job. He knew he’d done the right thing, but … the circumstances would be tough.

Rhaena hurried over to him and tilted his face up by the chin. “You’ve done nothing wrong. We’re gonna get through this.” She turned towards Wren, throwing her arms around her as Wren broke down on her shoulder. “We’re all gonna get through this. We’re okay.”

“He—” Wren sobbed. “Brent, he … he jumped in front of Conrad’s gun and—”

“It’s okay, Wren …” Rhaena reached down, checking Brent’s pulse. It was weak, but steady … a very good sign. “He’s gonna be alright.”

“Are you sure?” Wren asked in a broken exhale as she wiped her nose on her cuffed wrist.

“Yeah. He’ll make it. Stratford’s tougher than he looks.”

Sirens started sounding from off in the distance, and Rhaena pulled Jenkins and Wren close as they sat next to Brent. As they waited, she stared off towards the woods, not able to keep herself from worrying about Foley, and fully understanding why nobody had said a word about it yet. The only surviving witnesses to have seen the captain change … were the three of them. Which meant his secret would remain safe. What an interesting example of the ties that bind. What a truly deserving end to a man that spun such a complicated web of evil. What a completelyfucked upsituation.

This … was going to be a very thick stack of paperwork.

He tried earnestly not to look at the bloodied body of the woman he’d killed as they zipped the black bag over her and began moving her to the coroner’s van. Foster had arrived with the ambulances, and was busying herself with the statements, and teams that were arriving to collect evidence. The sound of shutters clicking all around him were striking nerves he didn’t realize he’d had. Brandon Jenkins didn’t even know how badly he was shaking as Foster approached.

“Hey.” She nudged him, placing a hand on his wrist. “Get it together, man. Your lady is right. You didn’t do anything wrong. She had a weapon pointed in the direction of a fellow officer.”

“She wasn’t gonna shoot her,” Jenkins choked out, pulling his arm out of her reach. “If I’d waited a second longer—”

“If you’d waited a second longer, she could have killed your girl. You didn’t know. You’re a cop. You’re not supposed to take that risk. She had just blown someone’s face off, Jenkins.” Foster crossed her arms, pressing her lips into a tight line.

“Yeah …”

“Look, I’m sorry to have to ask this right now, but … how did she end up with our good captain’s service weapon? Did you think I would miss something like that?”

Jenkins snapped his eyes to Rhaena, who was talking to Wren in the back of an ambulance. His eyes caught a few tagged spots of blood where Foley had been shot in the leg. “No, I didn’t. I wasn’t gonna do this here, Foster.”

“Why? Where is he? And how could he have made a mistake like this? Has it been that long since he was outta the field? I’d have thought he’d do better by both of you considering—”

“Watch it,” Jenkins spat through his teeth. Foster’s brows raised at his tone. “You don’t talk about him like that. His past is none of your business.”

“His present definitely is, detective. Especially under the circumstances.”

“Thecircumstances… are why I’d rather discuss it somewhere more private,Agent Foster.”

She pursed her lips. “Look … it’s been a long night for me, too. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I’m not following wherever it is you’re going with this. So, if you’d please get to the point—”

“Consider this mishap an area of your expertise, Foster. Do I need to spell it out for you?” Her eyes widened. Jenkins lowered his voice into a whisper and stepped closer. “He’s not here becauseFoley… was not what left this crime scene.”

“Notwhatleft this crime scene?” she repeated.

“Exactly.”

She tightened her arms across her middle, and smirked as she turned herself around and rolled her eyes. “I will be damned. So … he was shot. And then …”

“Yes.”

“I see.” She huffed, facing him again. “How bad is he injured?”

“From what I could tell, Stratford got him in the front part of his thigh. I think he’s alright. We don’t have any idea where he’d go … obviouslynakedand bleeding. I doubt we’d find him at a hospital, or anywhere public.”

“Well,” Foster started, shrugging her shoulders. “If you were …one of those… and you only knew one other person who would understand … where would you go to lick your wounds?” Jenkins caught her implication and jerked his face towards her. Foster snorted. “Save it. I know. I’ve known for a while, and I’m not outing her. Relax. My job is to keep the lid on it, remember?” She cocked her head to the side.

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