Page 50 of Loco

Roque

Iwas on my first day back after the kids got sick, and I already felt like I’d aged five years—no sleep, no downtime, just the bone-deep exhaustion that made your soul ache. The station smelled like burnt coffee and locker room musk—business as usual. But then my name came over the intercom, Chief Topper wanted to see me.

I didn’t like Randolph Topper and never had. He’d been in the job a year, and something about him always felt off—too polished, too rehearsed, like he practiced empathy in the mirror. I walked into his office and found him leaning back like he didn’t have a care in the world—casual voice, relaxed shoulders, and eyes that tried to act like they weren’t hiding anything.

But I knew better because Judd had told me what he’d uncovered. The kind of things that, if they saw the light of day, could wreck the man’s life. I couldn’t imagine knowing a moment of peace if I was up to what he was. Then again, maybe some people found money and power more comforting than aclean conscience. I’d also been filled in this morning about what had upset Sayla enough for her to stay at Alex and Evie’s the other night—she’d received photos, like I had. These ones were of her at work, and I was silently seething about it.

“Glad to see you back, Roque,” he said like we were old friends. “How are the kids holding up?”

“Better now,” I said, short and clipped—no invitation to dig deeper.

He smiled like he cared and asked how I was managing the extra load at home and what was going on with everything. I gave him the same answer I gave anyone who asked—vague, quiet, enough to move on.

Then he slipped up. “And how’re you finding that new daycare?”

I froze for half a second, I hadn’t told him about that. I doubted anyone I trusted would’ve either. Fortunately, I was looking down at my hands, fiddling with a scratch on my thumb. It gave me just enough time to school my face into something dull and drained.

“It’s… fine,” I said, mustering a tired smile. “Thanks for asking.”

His eyes lingered too long. So, I leaned forward, like I needed to confide something, and lowered my voice.

“Truth is, I woke up in the middle of the night last night feeling really panicked. Just this feeling like I can’t keep them safe, no matter what I do.”

Topper’s lips twitched. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something close like the idea of me unraveling gave him a sick kind of satisfaction.

“Why would you say that?”

“Isn’t that what most parents worry about?” I asked, watching him closely. “You’ve got four kids, right, from both of your marriages?”

The shift was subtle, but I saw it. The flicker in his eyes. He didn’t like that I knew that information.

“I mean,” I continued, “you’ve gotta think about that sometimes. Guys you’ve arrested or people you’ve crossed. Hell, even people you might’ve worked with who didn’t like how something played out. You ever worry what they’d do to get back at you—maybe through your family?”

His jaw tightened. The mask cracked just a little, and I saw the fury flash in his eyes before he caught himself.

“I imagine that could be something that keeps a dad up at night,” he said finally, voice clipped now, not so casual anymore.

“Yeah,” I said. “So, how do you settle that fear?”

But before he could answer, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, seeing it was Judd.

“Gotta take this,” I said, already standing. “It’s a scene.”

I left without waiting for him to say anything else. Just the quiet satisfaction of knowing I’d struck a nerve—and the knowledge that whatever Topper was hiding, it was starting to weigh on him. And I wasn’t done yet.

We greetedthe coroner as he approached, exchanging the usual grim nods reserved for scenes like this. Then we started walking back toward our cars, our boots crunching through the damp underbrush. I looked for anything resembling a snake, given they’d love this place.

“I had a hell of a morning before this,” I said, voice low enough that only Judd could hear.

“Oh yeah?” he muttered, not looking at me yet.

“Topper called me into his office.”

That got his attention. He hissed through his teeth, sharp and quiet. “Shit, what’d he want?”

“Nothing useful,” I said. “Just trying to act like he wasn’t sweating through that fancy-ass shirt of his. Asked about the kids, how I’m holding up, and then dropped a little bomb—asked how I was liking the new daycare.”

Judd stopped in his tracks. “He what?”

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