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Mia shrugged, her smile a bit more reserved. ‘It's just something you get used to. We all have our own ways of coping. You did it too. You must have forgotten what it was like.’
'I chased thieves, gang members, arsonists. I never dealt with the Charles Manson.'
Mia chuckled softly, her eyes taking on a far-off look. ‘Ah, Manson. I had to visit him in San Quentin once. Total douchebag.’
Martin laughed. ‘He seems it.’
‘I've seen my fair share of monsters. Each one as terrifying and as incomprehensible as the next.’ She noticed Martin's hand unconsciously drift to an old scar on his forearm. ‘But every scar tells a story, doesn't it?’ she said gently, reaching over to touch his hand.
Martin looked down, his thoughts clearly drifting back to a time he'd rather forget. ‘It was a knife wound,’ he began. ‘Got it during a bust on a drug den. Things went south, and before I knew it, one of the guys lunged at me. I managed to disarm him, but not before he left me with this souvenir.’
Mia's fingers gently traced the scar. ‘Every one of us in this line of work carries our battle scars. Some are just more visible than others.’
Martin nodded, taking another sip of wine. ‘I always believed in the system, Mia. Believed that if you put in the effort, the bad guys would get what they deserved.’
Mia sighed. ‘The system is flawed. I've seen it fail too many times. Like with Logan Nash.’ She took a moment before continuing, her voice tinged with anger. ‘The evidence was all there. But with his connections, his money...’
‘Logan Nash?’ Martin asked.
Ripley realized she was vocalizing her thoughts. The rest of the world weren’t yet familiar with Logan’s name. But now that she had started, there was a part of her that wanted to share, to unload some of the weight she felt about it.
With a hesitant breath, Mia began, ‘Logan Nash is the man responsible for killing my partner’s dad like two decades ago. We were at his arraignment this morning.’
Martin's eyebrows knitted in concern. ‘And this guy’s walking free?’
‘For now,’ Mia said bitterly. ‘Out on bail. There's a possibility he might not even be convicted. His lawyers are good, and his pockets are deep.’
Martin's face darkened, and Mia could see the gears turning in his head. ‘How do you mean? How did this happen?’
Mia looked deep into Martin's eyes, noticing the genuine interest that sparkled in them. The world around her seemed to blur slightly, the restaurant's ambient noise fading away, leaving only the two of them in a private cocoon. It was a sensation she wasn't familiar with, especially not with the few romantic partners that came her way. In her line of work, conversations often became one-sided, her experiences too heavy, her stories too grim for most to digest.
‘My partner sought him out, outside of FBI boundaries.’
‘She went rogue?’
‘Yup. She had to, and I lent her a hand. There was no active case, no evidence that could even build a case. But Ella risked her life to find this guy, got him to confess, but all her hard work was cast to the wind today.’
Martin placed his wine down, then waved his hands, 'Hold on a second. You helped your partner with her rogue investigation?'
Ripley panicked, worried she’d said the wrong thing. ‘Yes, I did. You were an agent. Don’t tell me you didn’t break the rules a few times.’
‘Of course, but what I mean is… if you and her both have intel on this Nash character, surely your combined testimonies have some weight? It’s not like you’re a pair of nobodies. You’re the federal elite.’
Mia leaned back, twirling the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. The candlelight cast long shadows on the table. ‘It's not as simple as that,’ she said, her voice soft, edged with weariness. ‘Logan Nash has been operating in the shadows for decades. He's meticulous, almost unnaturally so. The evidence Ella gathered was mostly circumstantial. And without hard evidence, without a solid case, our testimonies alone won't be enough, especially against his army of lawyers.’
Martin leaned forward, his brows furrowing. ‘But you said Ella got him to confess? Surely that counts for something?’
Mia shook her head, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. ‘It was off the record, without proper protocols. And given Nash's influence, he could easily claim it was coerced or even fabricated.’
There was a pause as Martin digested the information. ‘So what's the plan? You can't just let this guy slip through the cracks.’
‘We're not. We're building our case from the ground up, gathering every shred of evidence, every lead, every connection. We won't let him escape justice this time.’
Martin nodded slowly, his blue eyes intense and thoughtful. ‘I understand the need for discretion, but if there's any way I can help... I still have contacts at Virginia PD, you know. Maybe some of them could be useful.’
Mia looked at Martin, her heart swelling with gratitude. She had known him for a short time, but his unwavering support was overwhelming. ‘Thank you, Martin. That means a lot. We may take you up on that.’
‘I mean, it’s been a while, but you the law enforcement bond. It’s for life. And trust me, guys are willing to let a few details slip if it means getting a killer off the streets.’
