Page 59 of Draven

Ciaran cuts the call and meets my gaze. “Well, buddy, it looks like you’re going to need to cast a wider net.”

Chapter 21

Louise

I pause on the steps that lead up to my precinct, with my eyes on the entrance I’ve walked through a thousand times and never batted an eyelid. Today is different. I’d rather sleep on a bed of nails for the rest of my life than go inside. The thought of all those knowing looks and quiet murmurings, the gossip train in full flow, and me knowing I have to keep my mouth shut and nose clean if I stand a chance of having this decision overturned.

Come on, Lou. Woman up.

Sucking in a deep lungful of cool air, I put one foot in front of the other and enter the building. After flashing my badge at the security barrier, I breathe a sigh of relief when it buzzes, letting me through. I take the stairs instead of the elevator, arriving on my floor with my shoulders thrown back, my jaw set, and a look in my eyes that dares anyone to take me on.

“Hey, look who’s back,” Allan, one of my coworkers says, his mouth full of what had once been a muffin. Chocolate chip, for sure. Allan thinks indulging in any other flavor is tantamount to burning his firstborn at the stake.

“Hey, Allan.” I drop my purse on the floor and kick it under my desk. “You’ve got half that muffin on your chin, and the other half down your shirt.”

He grins, giving me a front row seat to the residue of his first snack of the day. More will follow. Many more.

“You know me, Rhodes,” he says, brushing the crumbs to the floor. “Boss told me to tell you to get your ass into his office the second you arrive.”

“That so?” I say, pulling up the intranet and searching for the number for Kevan Birch, our union rep. I wish Draven was with me, bolstering my confidence, reassuring me I’m doing the right thing.

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

A stabbing pain shoots through my chest, grief stealing my ability to respond. Thankfully, Allan doesn’t probe any further. Instead, he rises from his chair, hoists up his pants, and comes around my side of the desk. He pats my shoulder, mutters, “Coffee, black, no sugar, coming right up,” then ambles to the vending machine tucked away at the end of the office.

God bless Allan. That’s the first time he’s ever picked up on a subtle hint, at least to my knowledge. Usually, subtle and Allan are like oil and water.

I find Kevan’s number and make the call. Pick up, pick up.

He answers with a curt, “Birch.”

“Hi. This is Louise Rhodes. You won’t know me. I’m a detective here at the Camden precinct, and I need some advice. I wondered if you had five minutes.” I’m not a detective any longer, but there’s no point in over-complicating it on the phone. If he can see me, I’ll have plenty of time to explain.

“I’ve got ten,” he says, a prevalent Southern drawl indicating he isn’t a Jersey boy. “And they’re all yours, providing you come to my office right now.”

“I’m on my way.”

Praying my boss doesn’t emerge as I dart past his office, I slip into the stairwell and jog up two floors. In all my time on the force, I’ve never had any reason to engage my union rep, and I hope that after today, I’ll never have to again. But Draven’s right. I can’t let this lie. Dammit, I won’t. If the powers that be are wanting to take me down the disciplinary route, then fine, but I won’t make it easy for them. I’ll force them to cross every t, dot every i, and jump through a thousand hoops before I let them score a red line through nine years of damn hard work.

After rapping once on Kevan’s door, I enter, then close it behind me. “Louise Rhodes,” I say, thrusting out my hand.

Kevan half rises from his chair and shakes it, then gestures to the seat opposite. “Kevan Birch.” He picks up a pen and a notebook, and resting his ankle over his opposing knee, he points the pen in my direction. “Let’s hear it.”

Comforted by his direct approach, I tell him everything from beginning to end, my ten minutes soon turning into twenty and then thirty. Kevan listens, makes notes, asks the odd question, but mostly remains silent. Once I finish, he sets the pen and paper on his desk and sits up straight.

“Okay, first, they can’t just demote you—not without a proper hearing. Second, to tell you that right after you buried your sister is a fucking joke. What kind of unfeeling assholes act in that manner?”

I murmur my agreement. “I was told my boss wanted to see me as soon as I arrived this morning, but I came to see you instead.”

“Good move.” He rises from his chair. “Let’s go, Rhodes.”

I stand, too. “Go where?”

“To see your boss.” He grins. “Some days, I fucking love my job.”

I trail alongside Kevan as he strides down the hallway. He pauses outside Shelton’s office and motions for me to go in. “After you.”

With my heart hammering against my ribcage, I rap once, wait for Shelton to invite me to enter, then push open the door.