Page 21 of Break

Me: Updates?

Ethan: Nah - all good for now. I’ll be there soon.

Me: Thanks

It isn’t until forty minutes later when Ethan and I are escorted toward the back of the building where the interview rooms are located. They’re kept away from the main office spaces for privacy and safety for both victims and staff members.

Jameson Grant, another officer who works in the precinct, is droning on about something he found hilarious on a call last night, but I’m only half listening. “Where’s Vince?” I ask Grant, changing the subject the moment he’s done telling his story. It wipes the smile from his face as we approach the only closed door in the hallway of interview rooms.

“They sent him out with Singh to pick up this chick’s husband,” he informs us, and I catch Ethan’s scowl at Grant’s use of ‘chick’ regarding an abuse victim.

“Has thewomangiven any more details since I got the call?” I ask him, stressing ‘woman’ so he catches on that he needs to be professional around us.

Grant simply waves me off like my comment was unimportant and I clench my hands to get my frustration with him under control. “I’m not sure of all the details she’s given to Lt,” he says, referring to Coop as the letters ‘L’ and ‘T’. “She’s pretty fucked up, but it’s nothing we haven’t seen before. Am I right?” He holds his fist up for Ethan to bump, who only stares at it, the scowl still firmly ingrained on his face.

Letting his hand fall away when he realizes Ethan isn’t going to reciprocate, he steps up to the door and knocks twice, then backs away. “Lt will be out in a minute. You boys can go into the next room and listen if you want. She’s already been informed that you all were coming and signed off on releasing all the details so you can work together.”

Nodding my head, I follow Ethan into the neighboring room and flip on the speaker so we can hear inside. Stepping up to the one-way glass, I note Coop is already moving toward the door to step out, leaving Trina Knox, one of their seasoned female officers, in the room with our victim.

With her back to us, it’s hard to gauge much about her, but it’s obvious that she’s young, fitting the 25 years that they informed me of. She looks a mess as well, which is understandable if she’s had the kind of night I assume she experienced. She has thick, chocolate brown hair hanging in tangles and waves, the tips brushing the lower portion of the chair she’s sitting in. It’s partially tied back, but most of it is hanging free.

Her frame is small, too thin in my opinion, but I don’t know her full backstory yet. It’s not uncommon for women in violent relationships to find they have difficulty eating because of stressors surrounding them. She seems somewhat relaxed as she fidgets with some paper on the table in front of her with her right hand, since her entire left arm is wrapped up in a sling, from wrist to shoulder.

There’s a notepad of paper with a pen laying on top next to a thick blue folder, which has something niggling in the back of my mind. Most likely her written statement, but I can’t be sure. There’s also a half empty bottle of water, which looks like it’s taken quite a bit of abuse from her hands. I’m proved correct when she picks it up to take a sip and she crinkles the bottle in her shaking grip.

I turn away from studying the back of her when I hear the door open. Ethan steps away from the window and stretches out his legs once he sits in one of the empty chairs furnishing the room.

“Gentlemen, thanks for coming so quickly,” Coop says, giving us a smile in greeting.

“No problem. What do you have for us?” Ethan nods hello as I answer.

“Take a seat.” Coop holds his hand out for me. I don’t feel like sitting down, but I do as he asks. Dropping into the cold metal chair, I’m immediately annoyed when it tilts to the side. I look under me to see that the chair is missing one of the footpads.Great. This is going to drive me insane.

A folder slaps down loudly on the bare table, and Cooper pulls out the last remaining chair. “This one is a fucking mess, guys.” He starts, then goes silent a moment, tapping his pen on the file before continuing. “We’ve got an officer on unpaid leave pending a performance review, and a woman who’s been stuck in a situationmuchlonger than she should have been.”

“Why was he put on leave?” I ask, surprised to hear of the dissention within their own ranks.

“It would seem that he’s good friends with her husband. Turns out, she’s reached out for help three times in the past year, and when Olson got wind, he volunteered to ‘handle it’. Gave her shit advice and didn’t file the reports because he was assured by her husband it was just an argument gone wrong, nothing to worry about.”

“BryceOlson?” Ethan asks, and I’m taken aback that the officer under the microscope is an acquaintance of ours. I wouldn’t say we’re friends, but he’s shown up here and there when larger groups of us would all get together.

“You know him well?” Coop asks him.

Shrugging, he leans back in his chair. “Not well. We went to school with him, and we see him around here when we’re called in.”

“Ahh, well, he’s pretty royally fucked this one up.”

“What was the shit advice he gave her?” I’m growing more curious about this entire situation. Most of the victims we assist don’t have this much red tape surrounding it.

Coop’s face hardens, clearly pissed about this part. “Told her that in these types of situations, the best advice he can give her is to stay in the house until lawyers are involved if they aren’t able to work through their disagreements. Hinted that if she were to leave, she won’t be able to go back until the courts divide up monies, assets, and property, and it can take years for that to happen.”

He looks over at the window with a furrowed brow. “He said, and I quote, ‘Where do you expect you’ll be able to go with no money and no job? Your best option would be to look into counseling if you’re not able to get along with your spouse. They know how to handle these things.’Fucker never mentioned that if she’s in a situation that involves physical violence and he’s a danger to her safety, that she should leave.Thenhandle the legalities after getting to a safe place.”

“Unbelievable,” I mutter, catching Ethan’s gaze.

“So, she listened to him,” Ethan says, not asking because we all know the answer.

“Of course she did. He’s a cop. He knows how these things work, according to her.” Coop is obviously pissed, and he has every right to be.

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