Page 74 of Tortured Eyes
“Come.”
“You wanted to see me, sir.” I make sure to close the door behind me. No use in the whole station hearing if he’s going to go after me.
“Yes. You don’t fool me, McCarthy. That little stunt you pulled with the counsellor doesn’t make everything okay. You have an exceptional record, and this behaviour is way off base. You are one of us, and I expected you to come to us if you were in trouble.”
“Sir, I appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m fine. I’m not in trouble.”
“So why has Mason reported you being seen at the airport with Logan Cane?”
My heart seizes in my chest—the fucking snitch.
“Sir, that is a personal matter. There are no active warrants out for Logan’s arrest as far as I am aware, and he’s not a person of interest in any of my investigations.” Poker face time. I grip my hands together behind my back and keep my eyes locked on Benson.
“He’s a huge person of fucking interest, especially with the whole of the Chicago drug scene landing up dead in our morgue. Nathan Cane recently died, and I refuse to believe that your actions, the disappearance of a high-ranking crime family member, and now Logan Cane on the streets of Chicago are all coincidences. You need to think about your story and fast. You're the one looking into cold cases involving Cane, aren't you?”
“Yes, sir, I am. And that has indeed led me to Logan Cane. He wasn’t able to give me any further information.” The lies trail off my tongue and for the first time, I wonder if this is how it started for my dad? A simple lie, an omission of truth and then the slow slide into burying information. After all, I’ve helped to cover up a murder. I’m more guilty than he ever was.
Fuck.
Bile churns in my stomach at my actions, burning up my throat. I’ve lied to my superior as if it was nothing. Nothing.
“Anything you need to report now? Or to Mason? He’s running point on this operation.” Benson’s eyes bore into mine as if he’s testing my truth.
“I will report to Mason, but…”
“But what, detective?” he challenges.
My feet shift in their position. I have no evidence, just rumour and suspicion over him, and he’s already planted that in Benson’s head about me. Accusing him now will look petty. “Nothing, sir. I’ll work with him.”
“Dismissed.”
I turn and race out of the office as fast as I can without running. The last thing I want to do now is sit behind my desk but running off won't help. A drink and kicking the shit out of a punch bag sure as hell will make me feel better. Sadly, that’s a no-go right now, but I do dial my friend.
“Hey, Jimmy.”
“Girl, what’s with the disappearing act? Please tell me you’re in one piece this time?” The initial pleasure in his voice soon slips into concern.
“I’m fine. Back at work, actually.”
“That’s great. Are you going to head over after work? I tell you, I’ve missed you around here.”
“I’ve been gone like, less than forty-eight hours.”
“And you’re the only one who lets me go all out when we spar."
I chuckle and think about how a good spar session can make me feel. It certainly will help clear my head of all the crazy and settle my thoughts.
"Now, enough of the small talk. What’s up?”
I pace my office while we talk, not sure how to phrase or admit to what’s going through my head. “A metric tonne of crap. Too much to go over now, but I’ll come by after my shift.”
“That will be late, but if you’re sure?”
“I need this, Jimmy.”
“You got it. Did you find what you were looking for?” He knows the plan I had. What my intentions towards Logan’s piece of good were. Although, what my actions would have been if Samuel was a boy, I don’t know.
“No. Look, I’ve got to go. Speak later.”
