Dark Blue (South Island PD Book 1) (35 page)

“You’ve done enough for other people to last a lifetime. How many other people do you know who’ve taken bullets for another person?”

He just shook his head, as if that didn’t matter. “I was doing my job. I’m glad that woman is going to be okay, but it wasn’t personal. I don’t lie awake at night worrying about her. But you – that’s a different story. You’re being threatened, and I can’t protect you as well as I want to right now. I can’t do a damn thing for Kate Sanders, either.

“It feels like I’m watching her husband lock and load a gun he’s going to hold to her head, and I can’t stop it. I’ve never felt more useless in my life.”

She stopped and stared at him, taking in the way he sat with his shoulders tight and his brow furrowed. He looked lost in painful thought, and it broke her heart.

“I feel safe with you at my place at night. And I’m sure you’re doing more for Kate Sanders than anyone else ever has.”

It was obvious from his expression that her words failed to ease his mind or his conscience.

She poured coffee in silence, not knowing what else to do. She could distract him from his worries temporarily, but she couldn’t make them go away.

In that respect, she felt useless too.

Jackson threw his cane into the car’s backseat. Damn, the thing was embarrassing.

“Seriously, man?” Elijah shot him an unimpressed glance from the driver’s seat. “Just use it. You’ve been shot in the leg and everyone knows it.”

“Don’t need it.” Jackson glanced out the window at the police department.

“You’re only three weeks out from surgery. What do you mean you don’t need it?”

“I mean what I said.” He popped the passenger side door open. There was nothing Elijah could say to convince him to take the cane – he wasn’t about to appear in front of his lieutenant, not to mention the Chief of Police, with that thing.

If he let them see him looking like a cripple, they’d never let him come back to work.

Elijah sighed as he slammed the driver’s side door shut. “Have it your way, Captain Badass.”

They crossed the parking lot behind the station, and Jackson made pretty good pace.

Inside, heads turned as soon as he walked through the door, bypassing the reception desk. An officer whose name he didn’t know gave his leg an appraising look, and a civilian family gathered at the desk turned to stare.

He ignored them all, making his way to the elevator.

Elijah took the elevator with him, but when they reached the second floor, he nodded toward the empty roll call room. “I’ll be hanging out here when you’re done.”

The handful of officers present on the second floor mid-shift greeted him as he made his way toward the chief’s office, and he did his best to pretend as if the walk wasn’t kicking his ass.

When he reached Chief Russell’s office, he and Lieutenant Aldred were waiting.

“Morning, Officer Calder,” he said. “You’re looking a hell of a lot better than I thought you would.”

Jackson held back a satisfied smile. “Recovery’s going well, Sir.”

He’d even suffered through pulling on a pair of loose pants that day, instead of the gym shorts that had become his wardrobe staple.

“I’m glad to hear it. We look forward to having you back.”

As much as Jackson had been dreading the meeting, at least it was off to a good start. Still, this wasn’t about him or his prospects for returning to work. It was about Sanders.

Lieutenant Aldred had called him a few days ago and informed him that the chief wanted to personally hear Jackson’s account of what had happened that night.

“Have a seat.” Chief Russell indicated the empty chair beside the lieutenant’s, across from the desk.

He did so, barely holding back a sigh of relief as he took his weight off his leg.

“I’ve reviewed the body cam footage from the night you were shot,” Chief Russell said. “I’ve also spoken about it with Sanders. I probably don’t need to tell you that we’re concerned with how he handled himself that night, and his future with the department is uncertain. Now, I want to hear your side of the story in as much detail as you can recall.”

Jackson nodded, his gut knotting. He remembered what had happened prior to being shot and didn’t have a problem with retelling it. That wasn’t what was bothering him – it was the thought of what Sanders might do if he was fired.

Which he probably would be. It was no secret that Sanders had had two complaints filed against him within the last year by city residents. One of them had been over Sanders allegedly using abusive language during a traffic stop, and the other a complaint from a woman who claimed he’d refused to help her when she asked him for help locating her missing daughter.

“That won’t be a problem, Chief.” Jackson said. “But everything will make more sense if I explain the incident that led to me arresting Officer Sanders first. It was still a cause of hostility on the night of the shooting. Back in August…”

* * * * *

“How did it go?” Belle couldn’t help asking as soon as she walked through Jackson’s apartment door Wednesday afternoon. He’d been stressing so much over the meeting, and she’d been wondering about it all day.

“All right,” he said as she closed the door behind herself.

She let out the breath she’d been holding. “I’m so glad. Tell me about it.”

She grabbed one of his hands and squeezed.

He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, doubling her relief. She’d half expected to get there and find him seething.

“Things aren’t looking too good for Sanders. At least, that was the impression I got. I told the chief what happened that night, and I also told him I was worried about Sanders’ family and how he might react to being fired.”

“And?” She sat down at the kitchen table.

He joined her, his expression darkening.

“The chief said he can’t let that affect his decision whether or not to fire Sanders. It’s his responsibility to determine whether or not Sanders is qualified to enforce the law, and he can’t let outside factors influence that.”

“Oh.” It made sense, but…

“He’s right,” Jackson said. “I get what he’s saying. But I really pushed the thing about Sanders’ family, with the newborn and everything… He said it’s still possible that Sanders can be prosecuted for the assault I arrested him over.”

Belle frowned. “But Kate Sanders recanted.”

“The chief said I can testify, even if she won’t.”

“I had no idea that was possible.” Belle felt her eyes go wide as a whole new slew of possibilities opened up.

“Some prosecutors will prosecute without a victim’s testimony if there’s other evidence, such as photos or other police documentation. Now, I didn’t see him hit her, but the department has a written statement from Kate, though she later recanted. That combined with my testimony might be enough to hold him accountable in a court of law. I didn’t see any marks on her the day of the arrest, but there was a bruise on her jaw the next time I spoke to her.”

Her heart lightened, even as she thought of the months ahead. It wouldn’t be easy for Jackson to balance his recovery and a court battle like the one he was describing.

“I’m glad there’s something that can be done,” she said. “He needs to be held accountable, and maybe it’ll give Kate the courage to leave him.”

“I hope so, Princess. Shit like this always gets worse over time. A lot of victims feel like they can’t leave, but I hope she’ll see things differently.”

“Well, she has the support of the police department. That’s more than some victims can say.”

“She does, but her husband is a cop too and God knows what kind of threats he’s made. I doubt the police are synonymous with safety in her mind.”

He had a point. Still, the possibility of a trial was something. If nothing else, maybe it would show Kate that there were people paying attention – that if she could find the courage to leave, she’d have support.

The department wouldn’t turn a blind eye to Sanders’ actions anymore. Not even if he was one of their own. His true nature had come to light at a heavy cost.

* * * * *

“Maybe we can hit the beach for a walk afterward,” Jackson said as Belle pulled into the parking lot beside Moreno’s.

“That’d be nice.” She tried not to let her surprise show. He was certainly feeling ambitious today.

“I could use some ocean air; I can only take so much of the recirculated AC stuff in my apartment. I feel like I’ve been living in an isolation cell.”

The sweet and salty smell of sea water drifted to them as they climbed out of the car, and she felt torn between pride and sympathy.

It was great to see Jackson enthusiastic about their evening, but he walked toward the restaurant with the air of an animal that’d been caged too long. Maybe they should’ve tried an evening out sooner.

“Do you want to bring your cane just in case?”

He’d left it in the backseat.

“Nope.” He raised an arm, bent at the elbow. “Princess?”

She looped her arm through his, and they approached the restaurant together. Its lights glowed softly against the October evening, inviting.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked, nodding toward the blue and silver gift bag she carried.

“Wine. I don’t know the guest of honor very well, and I figured a nice wine would be a safe bet.”

“Smart.”

Inside, the restaurant was crowded. Light and noise permeated the main first floor dining area, and a haze of kitchen smells sent hunger pangs flying through Belle’s stomach. She hadn’t eaten since lunch, and it was nearly seven o’clock in the evening.

The hostess led them to the private room that’d been booked for the party, and they found a couple dozen people from the college already there.

“I probably should’ve mentioned this to you sooner,” Belle said, “but you’re a little bit of a celebrity in the eyes of my colleagues. At work, I get asked how you’re doing all the time, and everyone saw the newspaper article. I have a feeling I’ll be introducing you to a lot of people tonight.”

He snorted at “celebrity,” but otherwise seemed ready to grin and bear it.

Belle smiled, her arm still linked with his. “What do you say we sit down?”

They found an empty seat near the center of the table, sandwiched in between Keira and another woman Belle barely recognized. Zackary sat on Keira’s other side and shot both her and Jackson a friendly hello.

There were already appetizer platters set out, and Belle ate in between the introductions she facilitated between Jackson and the guests sitting nearest them.

“I think it’s just wonderful what you did for that girl,” said an older woman Belle was pretty sure taught RN classes. “How’s that leg feeling, hon? Healing well?”

He responded with good humor, and the conversation quickly grew technical.

Yep, the woman was definitely a seasoned nurse – after she started talking about wound drainage while simultaneously heaping cocktail shrimp onto her plate, Belle was sure.

All in all, Jackson was very popular. Belle just had to make sure he didn’t outshine Nancy, the guest of honor who was retiring from over a decade of work at the college.

Luckily, the food at Moreno’s was good enough to distract people, even from Jackson. When the main courses arrived, the chatter all but ceased.

The seared, sliced tuna with wasabi dipping sauce that she chose was heavenly, the fish a rich red-pink and almost translucent inside a sesame crust. Fresh seared tuna was one of her favorite treats – pricey, but worth it. And besides, the fact that Jackson seemed to be handling his first real night out since the shooting well was something to celebrate.

“How are you feeling?” she leaned in and asked quietly when no one else was paying attention.

Jackson set his spoon down in the bowl of spicy gumbo he’d ordered. “I’ll make it. Don’t worry about me, Princess.”

She sipped her rosé. “Still thinking about that walk on the beach?”

“Damn straight.” He shot her a smile that doubled her confidence.

“Okay. I hope you’ll be willing to stick around for dessert first, though.” Moreno’s had the best vanilla bean crème brûlée.