Jack finally straightened, smoothing his tie with practiced precision. “Your department just got put on notice by a trauma counsellor and came out looking like a pack of jackals.”
Erin scoffed. “That stuck-up bitch thinks she runs this town. Always throwing her weight around like her clinic’s above reproach.”
I turned on her. “That’s enough, Voss.” I shot her a look that told her we would be having a discussion later.
She crossed her arms. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking. She acts like she’s better than us. Like she’s untouchable.”
Jack stepped in before I could. His voice was calm, but sharp as a scalpel. “This station is clueless, isn’t it?”
Erin bristled. “Aren’t you supposed to be on our side? You’re the damn prosecutor.”
“I’m on the side of what’s right,” Jack replied coolly. “And in myexperience, that side consistently aligns with Ava Sinclair and Remi Carter.”
Erin barked a laugh. “Right. The emotionally constipated trauma twins. They think they can control everything, but they don’tdoanything with anyone. Never go out, never socialize. Like they’re too good for the rest of us.”
Jack didn’t even blink; he muttered something that sounded an awful lot like'is this high school' before answering,“You got one thing right, Sergeant. Ava and Remi are a package deal. But not in the crude way you keep suggesting.”
He stepped in closer, quiet now, but somehow more dangerous. “They have a bond you clearly don’t understand. A sisterhood born from a history of pain, loss, and betrayal by people who claimed to care. You know why they don’t go out drinking with you?" He looked at her like something smelled foul. "Because they’re too damn busy putting broken pieces back together in this town. Because they don’t trust easily, and they shouldn’t have to.”
Erin rolled her eyes. “Oh, spare me the bleeding heart shit.”
“They don’t justtalkabout helping,” Jack said, not flinching. “Theyshow up. Shelter shifts, court accompaniment, custody battles, victim interviews.... You name it. Those two don't stop. When was the last time you did anything that didn’t serve your ego, Sergeant?”
I cleared my throat, sharp and loud.
They both went quiet.
Then a junior officer stepped out of dispatch, eyebrows raised.
“Uh… is the angry fire sprite still here?”
Jack chuckled under his breath. “That is the most accurate description of Ava I’ve ever heard.”
I gave the kid a look. Today feels like I stepped inside a funhouse... except I wasn't having any fun. “She’s gone. What is it?”
The officer held up a slip of paper. “We got a call. Someone was asking for her. Wouldn’t say who they were. Just that they’d only talk to Sinclair or Carter.”
Erin made a choking sound of disbelief. “Are youkiddingme? See? This is what I mean, Chief. She thinks she runs this place like she’ssome vigilante hotline operator. Why don't we just give her the keys to the damn county...”
I turned to the officer. “Did they say what it was about?”
“Nope. Just kept repeating they’d only talk to one of them.”
“Did you trace it?”
He shook his head. “They seemed frustrated, sir. They hung up when I offered to get Sergeant Voss instead.”
My jaw ticked. I looked at Jack. “What the hell is going on?”
Jack met my gaze without hesitation. “Isn’t that the thing, Chief? Someone callsyourstation… looking forthem. Two trauma counsellors. Not your officers. Not your sergeant.”
Jack watched me for a long moment. Then he gave a dry, humourless laugh.
“You know,” he said, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, “The first time I asked Remi why she never drank, why she always bailed on nights out, I figured it was because she was uptight. Wound too tight from the job.”
He paused. His expression changed, the kind of shift that made my gut tighten. A mix of grief and respect. Maybe regret. His dark brown eyes didn't often give much, something I felt was practiced... but they spoke volumes now.
“She looked at me, and I’ll never forget it,” he said. “She didn’t yell. Didn’t posture. Just asked me one question.”
