He went between the ropes and hopped down from there. Franklin vaulted over the top of them and landed easily on the other side. He reached up on the way past to trade a fist bump with Bennett.
“Not Richie Rich and his pals up in the Reserve,” Franklin said as he dropped his arm back to his side. He strode toward the door as he tossed back over his shoulder, “So I’m one up on you.”
He wasn’t wrong. Marlow looked up at Bennett. She had her split lip folded between her teeth as she worried at the raw skin.
“They’re not going to promote anyone before Harrison announces his retirement,” Marlow said.
Bennett pulled her attention away from the door and looked down at him. “Really?” she drawled in a voice ripe with sarcasm. “Wow, that’s a relief. I really thought they were going to make you and Franklin co-lieutenants because of your great working dynamic.”
“Try and be nice, see what it gets you,” Marlow said to the passing rookie, who looked like he’d rather not get dragged into this. “Go and ice your knee, Bennett.”
Bennett tossed the half-drunk bottle of water down to him. “Go soak your head,” she advised as she pushed herself off the post. “And watch your back. You’re the one that someone tried to kill recently, remember?”
She limped away back to the corner she’d left her gear in. Marlow wiped the top of the bottle on his T-shirt before he took a swig. The label said the water was lemon-flavored, but after knocking around the gym all day, it just tasted flat and tepid.
“I’m not likely to forget,” he said quietly.
Around him, a dozen other Night Shift officers sparred, worked out, or hung out by the juice bar. The long, low-ceilinged room was full of the sounds of knuckles on flesh and the rattle of weights. Some of them were friends, more or less, some of them he had never much liked, but he knew them all one way or another.
Any of them could have been the mystery driver who left him to die.
O’Hara tossed two folders onto the desk.
In a rare moment of agreement, Marlow and Franklin both eyed the apparently innocuous paperwork with suspicion. It wasn’t like Night Shift only worked three days a month. The rest of the time, they were deployed along with the rest of TAC to deal with hostage situations or warrants.
That meant they worked as a team. They didn’t get cases handed to them individually. Even Day Shift TAC didn’t get their own cases. Any deviation from standard operating procedure was not a good thing.
“Pick one,” O’Hara said as he pulled his chair back from the desk and sat down. It creaked as he leaned back in it. When neither of them jumped to do what they’d been told, he sighed and reached over the desk to push the folders toward them. “One each. Or I just hand them to you.”
Marlow glanced sidelong at Franklin, who squinted dubiously back at him.
After a moment, Marlow shrugged and reached for the nearest file. Franklin grabbed it before he could touch it. Of course. Marlow resisted the urge to roll his eyes and took the other folder instead.
“Days requested Night Shift’s help on both of those,” O’Hara said. “I’m tapping you two to provide it.”
“Why?” Franklin asked.
“Because medical hasn’t cleared Marlow for operational readiness yet, so he’s on restricted duties,” O’Hara said. “And you called Homicide a bunch of ‘over-hyped morgue techs’ yesterday, and now I have to deal with their hurt feelings.”
Franklin snorted. “They call us worse.”
“Not to your face,” O’Hara pointed out. “And you don’t get an appeal here. Just do it. Now.”
The edge to his voice cut off any hope of negotiation. Franklin stuck the file under his arm and groused his way out of the office. He slammed the door behind him. Marlow let him go and then turned back to O’Hara. He tapped the file on the edge of the table.
“Any updates onmycase?” he asked.
O’Hara sighed and rubbed his thumb over his temple. “You know better than to ask that,” he said. “All I’m going to say is that we’re still investigating.”
“If I could just—”
“Internal Affairs took over the case,” O’Hara reminded him. “And you’re the victim in this one, not a cop. They’ll let you know when there’s something to know, but you can’t be involved in the investigation. You have a case. Focus on that.”
Marlow just looked down at his folder and stood there for a second. How the hell, he wanted to ask, did they expect him to just do his job like nothing had changed? Except, he supposed, nothing had. He’d known that the purge might not have cleared outallof Piper’s crew; he’d just… gotten used to it.
“Anything else?” O’Hara asked.
Have you heard from Cade?The question itched on the tip of Marlow’s tongue, but he didn’t know if he wanted to know for professional or personal reasons. It was stupid. Every null knew better than to put any faith in what was said during the honeymoon period when the wolf was still hot in the blood. Yet here Marlow was, hurt that a known asshole had ghosted him once the prospect of a dinner date was on the table.
