Page 3 of Heat of Justice (Duty #3)

Kim did not allow herself to lean her elbows on the metal table and press the palms of both hands over her burning eyes. They felt dry. Gritty. She did not want to appear tired, weak, or even worse, unhinged in any way in front of the cool-eyed detective. She maintained her posture, even though what started off as a low-level line of tension behind her eyes early that morning and plagued her throughout the day now threatened to erupt into a vicious headache. The harsh fluorescent lighting affixed to the ceiling in this room did not help. She had barely slept, skipped breakfast and lunch, and was still looking ahead to some kind of food in the future. Dinner… Maybe. Hopefully! She could feel it all catching up with her. Her right hand shook a little as she took a sip of water to steady herself. Goddammit! The detective noticed.

“Are you alright, Ms. Reed?”

“Of course, I’m alright.”

A flicker of warmth and compassion in Miller’s eyes made Kim want to snap at her even worse. Total self-preservation, she knew. She was running on fumes at this point, aware that a good-looking woman offering even a hint of comfort might undo her completely. Even upon the first encounter, this one here inspired confidence and respect in equal measures. Something else, too... Kim would have had to be dead not to notice the way her khaki trousers highlighted slender muscles in her legs or the subtle rise of small but apparently firm breasts under her maroon shirt. Rolled-up sleeves afforded a glimpse of smooth skin and sinewy muscles in her forearms, and the three buttons open at the collar revealed a slender, graceful neck. For all her physical elegance, Detective Miller also projected plenty of self-assurance and power. The black handgun in a holster clipped to her belt no doubt helped with that… But if anything, it was her eyes: alert, steady, and sparkling with quiet intelligence, which achieved it even better. Annoyed at herself for noticing these details, even under such dire circumstances, Kim took a calming breath of her own.

“I don’t work on the defense side of things anymore. I’ve switched to family law,” she offered. “From time to time, I do pro bono work for a women’s rights association, through which I met Cassie.”

“Is your client married? What’s her situation?”

Her situation is that she’s dead! Though Kim was tempted to scream this out loud, she knew it would not get her the help she required any quicker… especially if she was forced to go into the real so-called ‘crazy stuff’ later on. Frankly, she did not see how it could be avoided. How would Detective Miller react to that? Hopefully, well enough, as she seemed experienced. But it was hard to be sure. Kim swallowed her frustration and gave her a bit more useful information for now.

“She’s been married twice to the same guy.”

“Twice?”

“The first time, she initiated divorce proceedings after she caught him screwing around with another woman. Literally. At home, in their bed. When she freaked out, he just laughed and invited her to join them.”

Miller pursed her lips but did not comment on that specific point.

“Please, continue,” she invited.

“Six months later, believe it or not, the son of a bitch got her to take him back. He apologized, told her she was the love of his life, promised it would never happen again, and convinced her to remarry. That’s when the violence started. Before then, he was just an unfaithful jerk. Bad enough, but not life-threatening. The second time, he became a vengeful drunk. He said he was going to make her pay for the divorce.”

“And now you think he killed her?”

“Correct. Cassie was terrified of him. It took her three years to work up the courage to try and get some help.”

“What was the trigger for her finally doing it?”

“He broke her wrist. Smashed her nose. She ended up in the ER, claiming it was all just an unfortunate accident, of course. But she caught the attention of a nurse who discreetly put her in touch with the women’s association. By the time she finally came to me, Cassie was one hundred percent determined to leave her husband. For good, this time.”

“Good,” Miller muttered, showing personal opinion for the first time.

“I helped her to set up a bank account, so she could start to save a bit of money from her job as a bakery assistant. Not surprisingly, he controlled the finances. If she needed anything, she had to ask him. I gave her a burner phone, and my private number, so she could reach me in an emergency. Detective…” Kim leaned forward intently. “Cassie would never just miss an appointment with me.”

“Has it occurred to you she may just have cut loose and run away?”

“Yes, it has. And no. She wouldn’t.”

“You seem very sure of that.”

“Totally. It’s not her type.”

Miller held her gaze, eyes hot and probing. She was intense, to say the least, and Kim struggled not to respond to that vibe. Amazed to find herself so uncharacteristically drawn to the woman, and instantly annoyed, she blamed the reaction on her own fatigue. It was a long time since she’d allowed herself to look at another woman. Even longer still since one registered enough on her radar to be tempted to do something about it. All of a sudden, it also struck her as a painful eternity. Meanwhile, Miller’s captivating blue eyes never left her face, searching deep, as if she were hoping to penetrate all the way into her soul. Kim shivered in spite of herself.

“Please, help me,” she murmured.

“Believe me, I’d like nothing better,” the detective replied, and she sounded sincere. “But you do need to be honest with me, and I don’t think you are right now. Not totally.”

Ah, damn. Kim did her best to stay composed.

“I am telling you the truth,” she stated.

Miller only fixed her more intently.

“Here’s the thing,” she replied. “In my experience, only two kind of people ever can say for definite that a person has been murdered. Either a witness to the crime, or the perpetrator. Ms. Reed, I need to know. Which one are you?”

◆◆◆

By the time Lia wrapped up with Wakefield, Quinn was still not back from her run. Not worried, but definitely a bit concerned, she grabbed her keys, jumped in the car, and headed straight to the beach. The weather was great; blue sky, not too much wind, temperature in the mid-seventies. As a result, even on a week evening, the area was busy. Plenty of joggers, dog walkers, and surfers out there. Kids running around, playing ball or frisbee. A few couples were out for a stroll, holding hands. Lia parked up, and she scanned the beach. It did not take her long to spot her. Quinn sat on her own not far from the currently closed Lifeguard station. Something else was unusual about this. The high-energy woman would struggle to be still for even five minutes. She was always busy and on the move and did not come to the beach to sit and gaze at nothing. Lia kicked off her shoes and jogged over to her.

“Quinn. Hey.”

Relief, mixed with a tiny flicker of reluctance, flashed in her eyes as Quinn looked up. She sat with her knees bent and her arms resting on them, fingers linked. Distracted, Lia reflected. Also not the norm.

“Hi,” Quinn murmured and moved to allow her in. “Work all done?”

“All done.” Lia knelt between her legs and framed her face in both hands. “How was your run, darling?”

“Ah… Fine. Just a couple miles.”

“Not in the mood?”

“Nah, not really.”

Lia ran her fingers through her hair, bringing her close for a gentle kiss.

“It’s okay.”

She lingered into the kiss, every sense keenly attuned to the woman she held. Relishing the feel of her wife’s lips caressing her own, the intimate swirl of dancing tongues, the sweet heat of the moment... Kissing Quinn was never the same, yet always reassuringly familiar. Part of the appeal for Lia was that she could never predict if it would end on a tender stroke or lead to more explosive stuff, and the sort of sex they both enjoyed: playful, daring, a little rough when the mood struck them and always beautifully tender. Not on the beach, of course, though Quinn held her when she started to move away. Surrendering to the pull of her arms, Lia wrapped hers around her neck. The kiss grew a little more intense, even surfing on the edge of frantic for a moment, until Lia felt her start to lose her breath. Not from desire, she was sure of it. Sensing a rising sob, she pulled back but kept a protective hand on the back of her neck.

“Breathe.” Catching these amazing blue eyes swimming in tears gave her a hell of a shock, and she stared in genuine alarm. “Jesus, Quinn... What’s the matter?”

The words came out on a sharp exhale. “I was suspended from the job today.”

“What?” Bewildered, Lia gasped.

“Wilson put me on admin leave until further notice. He had no choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“He acted on the mayor’s order.”

“But… Why?” Lia prompted, beyond baffled at the news. “What happened?”

Though Quinn wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, the misery in her gaze was not so easily dispelled. Seeing it broke Lia’s heart.

“Tell me what’s going on,” she insisted.

“Remember a few months ago, when Ellie almost beat that guy to death?”

“A suspect who was running from you both,” Lia corrected with a curt nod.

“Yes.”

“A child abuser.”

“Yes, yes. But the point is, she might have killed him if I’d not been there to stop her. Internal Affairs looked into it and cleared her of any wrongdoing. It helped that I did not mention her loss of control in my report.”

“S ubjective loss of control,” Lia was also quick to recall. “He threatened her with abduction and sexual assault. Punched her, tried to strangle her, and slashed her with his knife. He would have killed her.”

“You’re right. But I—”

“You stood for her, darling, for all the right reasons,” Lia interrupted. “The suspect did not even press charges at the time, did he? Whatever his name was. Or has he done so now? Is that what this is about?”

“No, I don’t think he’s involved in this.” Quinn took a deep breath, let it out in a long exhale, and went on to explain. “The author of an online blog recently published accuses me of being a dirty cop. And claims that Lewiston P.D., Captain Wilson, and the mayor, are aware of it. Giving me a free ride because they’re all corrupt as well.”

“Bullshit!” Lia exclaimed and was rewarded to see a ghost of a smile on her wife’s lips.

“Thanks, babe,” Quinn murmured.

“I’m only stating the truth,” Lia declared as her indignation flared. “You are the best cop in this city! The most selfless person I’ve ever met.” She pointed toward the pier in the distance. “Have Wilson and the mayor already forgotten what you did when four armed lunatics shot their way through the shopping strip over there two years ago?”

“Lia…”

“You jumped in front of an innocent woman to save her life. You took a bullet that was meant for her!”

Lia would never forget witnessing Quinn’s dramatic arrival at the hospital after the shooting. Lying unconscious in the back of a police cruiser. Bleeding from a severe wound that would no doubt have been fatal if Ellie James, the officer in question, had not clamped her hand over her ruptured femoral artery to slow the bleeding down. Quinn would have died without her presence of mind and quick, daring intervention.

“You’re upset,” she said.

“Outraged,” Lia snapped. “Let’s go home. I want to see that stupid blog for myself.”

◆◆◆

Nothing like having the sexiest woman on the planet in your corner, Quinn reflected as her wife took her hand, laced their fingers, and gave her a firm squeeze and a tug-along. The simple gesture carried plenty of weight. It grounded her. Once upon a time, Quinn had been utterly convinced of the fact that she did not need, and would never want, this sort of support from another woman. She was too independent, hyper-resilient, and used to doing things on her own terms. Her life before Lia only included her job, her running and CrossFit training, and the odd one-night stand when she felt like letting off steam with a willing partner. Relying on a lover to feel good or happy, let alone falling in love, struck her at the time as lame and dangerous. Ridiculous, verging on stupid. Definitely not for her. But then, a gutsy reporter with plenty of character, a streak of attractive stubbornness, and the sort of attitude Quinn could not help but admire, walked into her carefully ordered life and proceeded to set fire to it. Lia was gorgeous. She kissed like an angel, knew how to soothe or inflame in equal measures, and always with perfect timing. She slipped under her skin in a hot minute and captured her heart in even less. Quinn Wesley, always famously intent on remaining aloof and single, not only fell head over heels in love but decided to get married as well. Not a day went by now that she did not marvel at her own luck. Lia was the best lover, wife, and partner she could ever have hoped for.

“Huh!” Lia snorted now, without humor. “ The Crooked Blue Line. What a stupid, lousy title for this blog.”