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“Whatever it is, not talking about it doesn’t make it go away. Ignoring it is how shit escalates.”
“It’s Jada,” I insert, though I cast my eyes to the floor when every set of eyes flies to me. “She has news about Jada.”
“Fuckkkk.” Fletch brings his hands up and crushes them to his eyes. It already hurts. He doesn’t even know what the issue is, and it already hurts. “What could you possibly know about Jada that I don’t know?”
“I saw her out at a club a couple of nights ago.” Blindly, Fifi reaches across and hits the button to have us moving again. “At a dance club. And I saw her doing things she probably shouldn’t.”
“Chief Mayet.” Archer leads me straight toward my office the moment we can escape the rest of our crew. Fifi talks to Fletch, and Aubree sits at her desk to watch. The entire world seemingly shines a spotlight on the first two—or at least, that’s how Fifi feels—but Archer leads me away, through my office door and releases my neck only when my feet cross the threshold and I circle around to the other side of my desk. “How long did you know?”
He closes the glass door and saunters across my office to take the single visitor chair. “You often keep massive secrets like that?”
“Oh please.” I set my coffee mug on my desk. “I knew for approximately thirty-two seconds before you and Fletch filed into the elevator. I told her to tell him, and I said I would do it if she couldn’t or wouldn’t.” Pulling my chair out, I plop down with a huff and ignore my computer screen alight with emails. Reports. Work. The fricken mayor. “I got it over the line in less than a minute, so don’t bring your bad mood to me.”
“She’s using again.” He slumps in his chair and groans. “I mean, we already suspected it. She’s been flakey and mean for a while, so it’s not like we didn’t consider it. But now we have first-hand proof. What the fuck is he supposed to do with that?”
“I don’t know.” I sit back and close my eyes. “He already has Mia in his care, Archer. She’s safe. So Jada can just do her thing. She was always spiraling. This changes nothing.”
“This changes everything! He’s been offering shared care since day one. If she decides she wants it now, especially if he pisses her off and she wants to punish him, then there isn’t shit he can do about it. You gonna let that sweet girl sleep in a halfway house with her mother?”
I scoff. Actually, audibly, scoff. “No. Mia’s not going anywhere.”
“But he can’t stop her! Jada is her mother, Minka. The longer she was sober, the meaner she got. Now she’s using again, so what do you think is gonna happen when an addict can’t have her next hit? What happens when she asks him for money to buy it, and he says no?”
I imagine a little girl inside a dark home. In danger. Neglected. Unbathed. Unfed.
“Sober people have abused their kids in the past just because they felt like it,” he sighs. “Addicts aren’t exactly known for a clear head and selfless behavior. Fletch can’t co-parent with Jada when Jada is making these decisions.”
“So Jada stays away.” It’s that black and white to me. That simple. “She’s not turning up most of the time as it is. Mia’s new life is with Fletch, and if she rocks up to their apartment to cause trouble, then Fletcher can put her back in rehab. Just like he did last time. That’s how it has to be.” But then I look to my left and swallow the dread clawing along my throat as Fletch barks out a venomous “Fuck!”
He spins on his heels and stalks across the ninth floor, drawing eyes with every step he takes.
“When one parent wants something, and they’re willing to screw with their kid to get it, and the other parent will give up their life to protect that same kid…that’s when shit gets messy, Archer.” He brings a hand up and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and finger. Exhaling once, he studies me across the desk and firms his lips. “Alright. It is what it is.”
Surprised, my brows shoot high on my forehead. “That easy?”
“Nope. But Fifi said she saw Jada a few days ago. Which means nothing has changed today. Everything is okay right now, and Moo is with Cato. Which means no one is coming for her without blood being spilled.” He sets his hands into his lap and studies my eyes. “We’ll deal with it like we always do. What’ve you got on Alves?”
“Work?” I love that about my husband. That the world could be on fire, but outside of that, we have us. We have who we are, and we’re able to focus on that when everything else is outside of our control. “I don’t have a lot that you don’t already know. He was stabbed to death: that hasn’t changed. Even if he was found immediately after death, his liver was never going to be accepted for donation anyway.”
“Unhealthy?”
“Destroyed. He was twenty-five years old, according to his date of birth. But his organs appear many decades older. His lungs were black, his stomach lining, eaten away. He was excreting bloody stools already, guaranteed. His heart showed signs of wear that shouldn’t appear in someone his age, all from his heavy alcohol consumption. He was a very young man, living inside an exceptionally damaged body. He abused himself, Detective, and if Adrianna wanted out of that marriage, she could have waited, maximum, ten more years, and let nature take its course.”
“Heh.” He rolls his bottom lip and considers. “Fletch and I spoke to William’s boss today.”
“Yeah?” I glance across when my computer dings with a new email. But I give it only a single second of thought before bringing my attention back to my husband. “How’d he seem?”
“Like an asshole,” he chuckles. “President of the Ol’ Boys Club. Men are superior, and the wife probably deserved to be smacked around a little bit.”
“Mmm.” Pursing my lips, I carefully lace my fingers together in my lap. “I’m devastated I never got to meet him. Did he have anything intelligent to say?”
“Adrianna Alves was taking classes at the local community college two nights a week. Ask me what she was studying.”
“Oh god.” It feels bad already. Damning. “What was she studying?”
“Criminology. Now ask me which case they’d been studying this week. As an M.E. I wonder if you’ll recognize it.”
I drop my head back and sigh. Because it’s gonna be bad. So, so very bad. “What case were they studying this week?”
