Page 15 of 4th Silence
Meg goes to his expansive window with its view of the city. The corners are frosty, much like the atmosphere of the room. “We’re sorry for the trouble, JJ. Truly. But you have to understand why this matters so much to me—” She corrects herself. “Us.”
I bite back a frustrated sigh. Now isn’t the time for apologies. We need to push forward, not backpedal.
I hold my tongue.
Meg continues. Her empathy worked on Alex. It might on JJ. “We know you’re in a difficult position. But please, can’t we find a way to work together on this?”
I watch JJ’s face for any crack in his resolve, and yep, I catch a glimpse of the man behind the title—torn, conflicted, but ultimately bound by restrictive rules—both official and the unspoken ones that are every bit as powerful in this building.
I hold my breath.
JJ’s shoulders lower almost imperceptibly. He runs a hand through his dark hair, mussing it, but unlike Matt’s, his falls back into perfect layers. “Damn it,” he mutters. “It’s dangerous. This isn’t just about reopening a case. It’s about admitting we’re incompetent. The system failed, and the killer is still free. A killer who’s again in the limelight and might strike out to protect him or herself. And you all are in the middle of this shit show.”
“Sometimes, admitting we’re wrong is the bravest thing we can do” I say, “and the Schocks don’t back down from killers.”
JJ’s laugh is sharp, humorless. He paces behind his desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket to reveal the crisp, navy blue shirt underneath. “Christ, Charlie. I’m trying to protect you—professionally and personally. Helen’s stunt has half of D.C. breathing down our necks. If I give the okay, there’s no backtracking...”
“If you don’t get on board—and we’re right—it’ll blow up bigger.”
He hates it when I’m right, especially when being so means he’s not. He braces his hands on the polished wood of his desk, and I see the burden of his position, of those expectations. His need to protect me and Meg—not to mention our mother—weighs down his broad shoulders.
Even amid this argument, I want to run my fingers over them.
As if it pains him, he relents. A little. “I’ll do what I can to support your investigation, but I’ll need your full cooperation. You follow my rules and the department’s policies.” He gives my sister a pointed look. “Regardless of your bones.”
She smiles.
I fight a grin.
He straightens. “We frame it as a review. I’ll tell the higher-ups it’s damage control, a way to placate the public without admitting fault. No family interviews unless there’s a damn good reason.”
JJ in his element—navigating the treacherous waters of bureaucracy.
“No grand announcements, no promises we can’t keep,” he continues. “We review the evidence quietly, and if—if—we find something substantial, we reassess.”
Meg nods, relieved. “Thank you, JJ.”
We have our feet in the door. Now, we have to find a way to blow that door wide open.
Without Mom ending up in jail.
Or worse.
Matt scratches his stubble. “Speaking of evidence…”
JJ’s eyes narrow. “What about it?”
“There’s the matter of the security footage. From the night of the murder,” I add. “Mom doesn’t have it, and we need to view it.”
His shoulders tighten, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “I’ve never seen it.” He catches the surprise on my face. “My deputies watched it,” he says as if to cover for the lapse. “I’ll ask Alex to dig it up and make a copy. We’ll review it again together. But don’t expect to find anything groundbreaking. Cold cases are cold for a reason.”
He truly believes we’re on a wild goose chase. Part of me wonders if he’s right.
“Good. Working together is always better than being at each other’s throats.”
JJ sits, and even that exudes power. “Tonight? Say seven? My day is packed until then.”
“Sounds good.” Meg nods, happy at his offer. “Let’s meet at Charlie’s.”
