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At ten, we ate, despite the fact neither of us were particularly hungry.
Now it’s eleven, and I’m reconsidering everything Libby talked me into overnight. I came to this town with a cover, with a name that connects in no way to Colum Bishop, with a story, and an ability to take my enemies down without anyone knowing who or why.
Then Libby begs me to walk through their front door and announce myself. She makes it all seem so logical and easy, and when she’s in her underwear, she can convince me of just about anything.
Olly reported in via telephone while Libby and I were eating, so I told himmostof my plans today. I told him I was going to Checkmate, that I had a meet with them, and that I wanted him close by just in case.
But I don’t tell him the minute details. I don’t tell him that I’m scared, or nervous, or freaking the fuck out that I’m willing to give all of my plans and cover up on the word of a girl I met when she was nine.
I pull up in the same parking space I was in yesterday. Without telling them of my Bishop connection, I know I’ve worn out my welcome by touching Sophia. There will be no warm welcomes, there will be no more Griffin and Checkmate collaborations. There is only suspicion, and it’ll get worse once we get inside and talk.
“It’s going to be okay.” Lib looks away from Checkmate’s front entrance and lays her hand over mine. We went back to her apartment so she could change her outfit, but no shower, amount of makeup, or new clothes will hide the damage to her face.
It enrages me to see her hurt. It’s a thousand times worse than it ever was back in Abel’s club two decades ago, but it still makes me go back there in my mind. It lays down a sense of foreboding, and the fact I’m willingly walking toward Bishops today does nothing for my heart.
“If shit gets messy, I need you to stay back.”
“It won’t get messy.” She squeezes my hand, then looks out the windshield toward the building ahead and draws in a deep breath. She was hiding me last night, but today, she walks to the front line beside me. She’s making a huge sacrifice, selflessly blowing whatever covershehad in my absence, and showing the Bishops her connection. “It’s going to be okay. They don’t shoot first and ask questions later. It might feel that way, but it’s not. My chief trusts them, so that means something.”
“And you? Do you trust them?”
She continues to stare at the entrance. “I don’t know them. I know you don’t believe me, but I truly don’t. I know who they are, of course. I know whose sons they are, I know their dad’s connection with mine. I know they were federal agents until a year or so ago. I know they have a reputation around town as the enforcers around here. They run a security company where regular folks come in and order security cameras or whatever for their homes. But I also know that people go to them for much more serious reasons.”
“Serious?”
She nods. “Like, there was this guy a couple months back that was beating on his girlfriend. She wanted out, but she was terrified of what he might do about it. Word spreads in small towns, and when she heard that someone might be able to help, she hired a couple Checkmate men to escort her in and out of the home she shared with the dude. He got mouthy about it,” she grins, “allegedly. And because of his big mouth, he ended up in a dentist’s chair, needing a new set of teeth.”
“And you don’t call that criminal behavior?” I sit back to rest against the door. She stares at the Checkmate office with fear in her eyes. She’s facing her demons today too. “You’re a cop, you swear your squad is clean, but your chief allows this vigilante justice in his own town and no one is being arrested?”
“Oh, someone was arrested,” she snickers. “Oz stood with him while the dentist worked on him, and made sex jokes the whole time, because they were connected with a pair of cuffs, and the dude’s mouth was open for two hours straight.”
“Real mature.”
She snorts. “I’m just saying that these guys might be rough and a little scary, but they look after the underdog, they help empower people. They made it so that scared woman could collect the album with photos of her deceased brother. They make it so a single mom has a secure home because her ex had a habit of kicking doors in.”
“Why do you drive your own car to work?”
Finally, she breaks her stare with the office. “Huh?”
“Why do all of your other colleagues drive department-supplied cruisers, but you drive a personal car?”
Her non-swollen eye narrows. “You ran my information enough to know that the piece of shit car I drive is registered in my own name?”
I nod. “Why does Oz get a shiny truck? Why does Alex get a current year SUV? Why does everyone get something shiny and new, but not you?”
“Because I don’t want anything.” She climbs out of the car and forces me to follow. I slam my door and meet her at the hood, but before she takes off, I yank her back and hold her face.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want any perks. I don’t want to drive a fancy car when there are people in town who have no car at all. I don’t want anyone to claim their tax dollars are paying for me to be fancy.”
“Why not? The point of tax dollars is for the police to have resources that make their job easier.”
“Because it’s a short leap from tax-funded town employees to mooching, thieving, or racketeering. So I drive my own junker, and then no one can ever say I accept anything from anyone. I do my job, Theo. I do it well. I uphold the law and keep people safe.”
She called me Theo. We’re standing outside Checkmate, and she’s finally using the name I begged her to use.
“You uphold the law and keep people safe… Except for women beaters.”
