“I thought I was running a precinct,” I said flatly, “not a sorority.”
She leaned against the counter beside me, dropping her voice.
“Some of the officers are starting to ask questions, you know. About where your priorities are… who’s influencing policy... It’s only natural.”
“Natural?” I questioned, still not looking at her.
She gave a mock shrug. “You spend enough time around people like Sinclair and Carter; you stop seeing the forest for the feminist conspiracy trees.”
That one landed. I finally looked at her. Really looked.
Who the hell was this woman? Or had she always been like this, and I’d just missed it?
Her smile sharpened. “Just saying. They’ve got passion, sure. But passion can be blinding. Manipulative. Especially when there’s history involved.”
I held her stare for one long, slow breath. “What exactly are you accusing them of, Sergeant?”
“Nothing, Chief.” She lifted her hands in mock innocence. “Just pointing out that not everyone has your objectivity. Some think you’re too close to see straight anymore.”
I stepped in just a fraction closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “I see more clearly than you think.”
Her expression twitched. Just for a second, a crack in the polish. Then the mask slid back. “Of course you do.”
Before I could say more, a voice rang from across the hall.
“Chief? We’ve got another intake. Juvenile. Female. Flagged as Carter’s client.”
I turned on instinct.
“Picked up on disorderly conduct,” the rookie added, shuffling a clipboard. “Downtown. Claimed she was trying to get help from a shelter.”
My pulse kicked.
I moved fast, reaching the intake room just as they were leading the girl in. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen, thin as a shadow, shaking, her eyes darting like a cornered animal.
“No visible injuries, but verbal resistance,” the officer was saying. “Didn’t provide ID. Said her name was Lia.”
That name landed like a gut punch. Remi had been working to get her placed somewhere permanent. I remembered Ava telling me about her, a bright kid, quick with math, afraid of shadows.
And the arresting officer?
Voss.
Of fucking course.
“She fought the process,” Erin said, voice clipped. “We had no choice.”
“She needed a bed,” I said, stepping between her and the girl. “Not a cell.”
“Chief, she was combative...”
“She was scared,” I snapped. “And from what I’m reading, you didn’t try to de-escalate. Again.”
The girl flinched at my tone, so I forced myself to soften it when I turned back to her. I dropped to one knee, levelled my voice low.
“You’re safe now. I’ll make sure someone gets in touch with Remi, okay?”
Her lip trembled, but she nodded.
