Standing on the sidewalk, Grace’s pulse raced. She was a rookie cop, albeit currently suspended. Yet, she’d had a life beyond the force—one that included her share of former boyfriends and flirtations. In short, she’d been kissed before today.
So, what had happened between her and Camden in the doorway? Why was she drawn to him like she’d never been to any other man?
Had he really been ready to kiss her?
Getting involved with this IA investigator would be career suicide.
Yet, she couldn’t lie to herself—she’d thought about kissing him, too.
What was worse, she wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d tried.
What did that make her? A horrible person? Desperate? Or was she inexplicably drawn to him because he was the one guy she shouldn’t want?
It wasn’t like her to make bad choices...well, until she pulled the trigger last night. Still, she knew better than to kiss the IA investigator. Never mind that he was intelligent, focused on finding justice and handsome.
Sun broke through the clouds, and mist clung to the ground as the puddles started to evaporate. She should say something to Camden. But what?
He still stood in the doorway. “Come on,” he said, stepping toward her. “We should go.”
She held the set of sketches, drenched and ruined. “These won’t do me any good.” A recycling bin sat at the curb. She tossed them inside.
He checked his watch. “It’s already after eleven o’clock. Let’s get something to eat. I skipped breakfast.”
Did the guy never eat on time? Grace worked the night shift and still she made time to eat regularly. “You have to get on a better schedule for meals.”
“I know. I know.” He lifted his palms in surrender. “You’re right. But don’t keep me from my lunch now. Come on. I know a good pizza place.”
Having lunch together was a decidedly bad idea.
Especially since Grace had to admit that she was attracted to Camden Kingsley. She was drawn to more than his good looks: his self-possession, as well. Camden was calm, collected and able to think on his feet. He was everything that Grace—passionate, reactive, talkative—was not.
Besides, they hadn’t actually kissed. It was just a reaction to the moment, right?
Still, she needed to get away for her sake—and his.
Tell him you can’t go out to lunch. Tell him you have to go.
She knew she was right. She opened her mouth, ready to decline the invite. Instead, her voice betrayed her. “Pizza sounds nice. Which way?”
“Left at the corner, then two blocks down.”
“So,” she began, as they walked.
“So, what?”
“So what comes next in the investigation? We’ve showed the sketches. No luck in finding the witnesses, though. The gun is missing. What do you do now?”
“I still have to do some more interviews,” he said.
Was he being evasive? “And then?”
“I bother Ellie and see if she’s gotten anything else from the body cam.”
“What happens after that?”
“I’ll look at all the evidence. If there’s enough, I’ll write a report with my findings. If I need more facts, I’ll keep looking.” He stopped in front of a restaurant. A green and red canvas awning hung over the doorway. Painted on the glass door in gold and black were the words Paola’s Pizzeria: New York Style Pizza. Beneath was a similar gold and black skyline of Manhattan. “You ever eat here?”
Grace had grown up in Grave Gulch, but whenever she ate out, she ate at her father’s restaurant.
“Never,” she said.
“You’ll like it.” Camden pulled the door open. He smiled as she passed. “Trust me.”
Maybe that was another problem. Grace did trust Camden.
A counter stood between the dining area and the kitchen. A glass hood covered a long line of prepared pizzas, ready to be reheated by the slice. A large dome brick oven was attached to the back wall.
“Hey, Camden. Good to see you, buddy.” A man with dark hair and a graying mustache stood behind the counter. He smiled as they approached.
“How’s it going, Stu?” Camden asked.
“Busy. Lots of protesters downtown, and they get hungry. But I’m not doing as good as you. Are you going to introduce me to your lunch date, or what?”
“I’m not his date. We’re, um...” How could she categorize their relationship—especially since she didn’t want to admit that she was one of the reasons protesters had been out in force?
“This is my colleague. Grace.”
“Nice to meet you, Grace.”
“Likewise.”
“So what’ll it be?” Stu asked.
She scanned the line of pizza choices. Buffalo chicken. Margherita. Cheese. Hawaiian. Veggie. She wasn’t hungry, but there was something comforting in the idea of sitting down with a hot, saucy and greasy slice of pizza.
“I’ll take the lunch special.” A slice of pizza, a side salad and a drink. “Cheese.”
“Make that two,” said Camden.
“But you’ll want sausage and pepperoni on your slice, am I right?”
“You are,” said Camden.
Stu handed over two empty plastic cups. A drink fountain stood in the corner. “Your order will be up in a minute.”
The restaurant had seating for two dozen. Round tables, covered with a checkered vinyl cloth in red and white, filled in the middle of the room. Three booths, all in a row, were placed along the window.
Grace and Camden were the only patrons. Since the shooting, Grace had felt as if everyone knew exactly who she was and what she’d done. What’s worse, they hated her for her actions.
She didn’t feel judged by Camden, despite the fact that his job was to investigate her guilt.
“Is here good?” Camden pointed to the booth in the middle.
Grace looked up from where she stood, filling her cup with unsweetened iced tea from a metal dispenser. “Works for me.”
She approached the table and set her cup down. After stripping out of her sodden jacket, she hung it on the corner of the bench. Sliding onto the seat opposite from Camden, she took a sip from her drink.
Usually, she had an easy time with chitchat. But what was she supposed to talk about with Camden? The restaurant was empty save for the two of them and Stu at the counter. Maybe now was the perfect time to have a candid conversation.
“Last night you said you were only interested in the truth,” she began, then felt not entirely certain where to go after such a bold statement.
He’d gotten himself a soda and sipped before nodding. “I am. The truth. The facts. Those are the only things that matter.”
“But they’re different, aren’t they? The truth and facts.”
Camden shook his head. “Not to me, they aren’t.”
“Facts are like a math problem. Two plus two is always four. The truth is what you can convince people to believe.”
He took another drink, seeming to consider her words. “I guess you’re right, although I never thought of it quite that way.”
“Tell me this, then. What’s the truth about my case?” Staring out the window, she watched a car drive by. “Right now, it’s my word against Grimaldi’s. I say he had a gun. He says he didn’t. The gun hasn’t turned up, so those facts prove Grimaldi’s truth—not mine.”
“Basically,” he said.
She waited for him to say something. Anything.
He didn’t.
Grace continued, “My body cam was broken, so there’s no video evidence. There are witnesses, but they haven’t come forward. There’s a lot of anti-police feeling in the community.” She paused and met his gaze. “I’m a cop. I know what kind of narrative those facts create. It makes me look guilty as hell. But here are the facts. I’m innocent. Grimaldi had a gun, and he pointed it at me. If I hadn’t fired first, he would’ve shot me.”
Camden wiped a bead of sweat from the side of his glass. He opened his mouth, ready to speak. But Stu approached with a tray of food, and Camden snapped his jaw shut.
The other man set down two salads in bowls, along with two gravy boats filled with dressing—creamy ranch and tangy Italian. He also had two wedges of pizza, bigger than the plates, and he set those down, as well. “How’s that look?” Stu asked, tucking the tray under his arm. “Can I get you anything else?” He quickly removed two sets of silverware rolled in paper napkins from the pocket of his apron and set them on the table. “Aside from these,” he added.
“It looks great,” said Grace. Her stomach clenched in a hard knot of anxiety. She’d never be able to eat much more than a few bites.
“All righty, then. Enjoy.”
Stu retreated behind the counter as Camden unrolled his silverware. With the other man out of earshot, he turned back to Grace. “If there’s evidence that proves your story, I’ll find it.”
“And if you don’t?”
“I will.”
“Do you swear that you won’t give up on the case?” Grace asked. “On me?” She shoved a bite of salad in her mouth and chewed. Had she really just pressured him to make a personal promise? That was a bad move. “Never mind what I asked. It was wrong.” She washed down her salad with a swallow of tea.
“Grace, listen,” he began. “I need to tell you something from when I was a kid...”
His phone started to ring, and he quietly cursed. He’d already told her that his dad was a cop. Was there more? Fishing the cell from his pocket, he glanced at the screen. “It’s Ellie.”
“Ellie?” Her chest was tight. Had the IT expert recovered the missing footage? Was this nightmare about to end? Wiping her mouth with the napkin, she leaned forward. “Let’s hope she has good news.”
Camden swiped the call open and put it on Speaker. Setting the phone on the table, he said, “Hey, Ellie. I’m here with Grace. What have you got for us?”
“Nothing,” she said, her voice flat. “I tried everything I know. But there’s nothing more to get off the body camera. I’m sorry.”
“Can you tell if anyone tampered with the camera?” Camden asked.
The chain of evidence was well-established. The camera went from Grace to Brett to Ellie. But weirder things had happened recently. Holding her breath, she waited for Ellie’s answer.
“The video and physical evidence suggest that the camera broke when Grace was hit with the bag.”
Grace’s pulse went sluggish. Having footage of Grimaldi pointing a gun at Grace was the only sure way to clear her name. Without it, would Grace have to live with a stain on her reputation forever? A wave of despair washed over her, and she began to sweat. “Sure,” she said. “Thanks for trying.”
“What else can be done?” Camden asked. “There has to be something.”
He was definitely trying to exonerate Grace. She knew that she should be pleased. Yet Melissa’s warning not to trust anyone from IA was still fresh.
What did Camden really want? Before Grace could wonder anything more, Ellie spoke.
“I’ve done all I can.” She paused. “I am sorry.” She ended the call.
The single bite of salad now sat like a rock in Grace’s gut. The phone, screen blank, lay on the table. Camden picked it up and tucked it into his pocket.
Grace pushed the bowl away. Finding more footage on the camera had been her final hope. Now, that was gone. She knew one thing for certain—she’d been defeated. Her eyes stung, yet she refused to cry in front of Camden. “Well, that’s a dead end.”
“I know that you’re disappointed,” he began. “But you need to consider some other facts.”
She held up her hand, stopping Camden before he got started. “I appreciate whatever you plan to say. But I’m not in the mood for a pep talk.”
In fact, there was really only one person Grace wanted to talk to right now: Melissa. She’d know what Grace should do.
Just because Melissa had stepped down from being the chief of police didn’t mean that she’d lost any knowledge. Her jacket hung on the corner of the bench. Standing, Grace patted down the pockets until she found her phone. “Give me a second. I need to make a call.”
Striding through the restaurant, Grace opened her contacts. She pushed out of the restaurant. After the morning rain, the sun had come out, and the sky was now a cloudless blue.
Melissa answered the call on the third ring. “Grace, where are you? I just heard from Ellie. She wasn’t able to get anything else off the body camera.”
“Yeah. I heard that, too. Where are you?”
“I’m still at headquarters, cleaning out some personal stuff from my office. I looked for you after the presser, but Coleman said you were gone.”
There was a lot more to talk about than just last night’s shooting and the lack of evidence. Her cousin had stepped down from being Grave Gulch’s chief of police, and it was in part because of Grace. “I took a set of the sketches and canvased a few blocks. I was hoping that someone would recognize the witnesses.”
“That’s a smart idea,” said Melissa. She chuckled quietly. “You always were smart.”
“I wasn’t the one who thought it up. It was Camden.”
“Camden? As in Camden Kingsley? You’re working with him? Are you serious?”
Grace bristled at Melissa’s incredulous tone. “He’s looking for the truth,” she said, paraphrasing what Camden had told her earlier.
“He’s looking for someone to hold accountable, and don’t forget it.”
Grace glanced at Camden through the window. He sat at the table, slice of pizza in hand. He took a bite and looked up. Wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he nodded at her.
Her heart skipped a beat. Despite herself, she smiled. “I haven’t forgotten anything.” Grace changed the subject. “How are you? You must be devastated about having to step down.”
“Actually, I’m not. Antonio and I had a long talk last night after I got home. Even before now, we’ve been talking about getting married and starting a family. It’d be hard to be chief of police and a new mom all at the same time.”
A hard kernel of disappointment lodged in Grace’s throat. “Is that it? You’re quitting?”
“I’m not quitting.” Melissa drew out the last word. “I’m taking time to evaluate what I really want.”
Grace knew what she wanted. She wanted to clear her name and get back to work. But would the GGPD be the same without Melissa around, even if Grace was eventually exonerated? Would Grace ever find a guy she loved enough to stop being a cop? She thought not, and yet she felt Camden’s gaze on the back of her neck. She tried to think of something else to say but had nothing. “I need to get off the phone.”
“Chin up, okay? You’ll get through this.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
“Because it’s true,” said Melissa. “Will I see you tonight?”
Oh, yeah. The party for Palmer and Soledad. She had no place else to go. “I’ll be there.”
Grace ended the call and folded her arms across her chest. She should go back into the restaurant. But her life was falling apart, and worse, she didn’t know how to put it back together.
Camden tried not to watch Grace as she stood on the sidewalk. Or to appreciate how her jeans hugged her hips and rear. Or that the sun, just beginning to peek through the clouds, turned her hair into a golden halo. He also tried not to wonder what she was telling Melissa—or what advice Melissa was sharing in return.
On all accounts, he failed miserably.
Maybe now was the time to ask Arielle to intervene and get him taken off the case once and for all. He looked around the restaurant, still empty, and removed his phone. Arielle answered his call on the first ring.
“I’ve got a meeting in two minutes,” she said. “What have you got for me?”
“The body camera was damaged. The IT expert can’t get any more video off the device.”
“That’s convenient, isn’t it?” said Arielle, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Chief Colton’s cousin shoots a civilian. At the time, she claims that the person had a gun. Then, the camera is so damaged that they can’t get any video of the incident.”
“Melissa Colton stepped down temporarily,” said Camden. His jaw tightened. “She’s not able to manipulate the investigation, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“And she named Brett to replace her. Interesting, don’t you think? Especially since I heard he’s involved with Annalise Colton, Grace’s older sister.” Arielle sighed. “They’re all a big family at GGPD. Literally. You have to find out more about what’s happening.”
“Here’s what happening, Arielle. There’s a conflict of interest.”
“A what?” And then, “You’re right, we do have to talk, but not now. My meeting is starting. Stay on the case, and I’ll call this evening.”
“Arielle,” he said, his teeth gritted. “Do not hang up the phone. This is important.”
Whatever he was about to say was for naught. She’d already ended the call. Camden muttered a curse in frustration.
Grace opened the door to the small restaurant. She came back to the booth and sat.
He said, “Your pizza’s gotten cold. Stu can throw it back in the oven if you’d like.”
Grace shook her head. “I’m not really hungry.”
“You want to take it to go? We can canvas a few blocks from here...”
“Listen,” she began. Grace tightened her jaw. From the resolute look on her face, Camden knew that he wasn’t going to like whatever she had to say next. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, really. More than that, I understand you’re going beyond what’s expected of someone from IA. But...” She exhaled, her breath ruffling her hair. “I should probably just go. There’s not much more that can be accomplished by us walking around, you know.”
He’d just been asking to be taken off the case. Maybe now was the best time to part ways. Why was his chest suddenly tight?
She asked, “What do I owe for lunch?”
Camden waved away her offer to pay. “I’ve got this.” He held out her plate and bowl. “Take this with you. You don’t want to waste food. Besides, what’d you tell me? To get on a regular meal schedule?”
“I guess I did say something like that.” Taking both salad and pizza, she stood. “Thanks.”
At the counter, Stu wrapped up Grace’s lunch and tried to get her to buy a cannoli. Then, without another word, she was gone. He should be happy, or at least pleased, that she’d left. His attraction to her was more than a distraction; it was the best way to ruin his career.
But Camden pushed his salad through a pool of dressing. He took a bite and swallowed, despite the fact that his throat was closed like a fist. Working his jaw back and forth, he wondered if he’d ever see Grace again. Or was she gone from his life for good?
Chastity Shoals lay on the sofa and scrolled through her newsfeed. She glanced at a post and clicked on the link. The headline read Police Chief Steps Down Amid Scandal, Police Shooting.
Her heart pounding, she opened the article and read.
Once again, the Grave Gulch Police Department is forced to investigate one of their own. This time, the scandal has cost Chief Melissa Colton her position—at least temporarily. In a press conference at GGPD headquarters, Melissa Colton spoke to reporters and the public. In her statement, she took responsibility for the police’s mishandling of several investigations, including last night’s police-involved shooting. Detective Brett Shea will take over the role of police chief until Colton’s return.
The officer in question, Grace Colton, has given a statement that Robert Grimaldi, 29, of Grave Gulch, brandished a firearm while she was trying to apprehend him. Officer Colton fired her weapon first. No weapon of Grimaldi’s has been located, despite an extensive search of the area. Grimaldi claims that he was unarmed at the time of the shooting. Officer Colton has been placed on administrative leave.
The police report that there were witnesses to the incident. They are asking the public for their help in identifying the couple. If you know those pictured below, contact the Grave Gulch Police Department.
Two sketches accompanied the article. Her nose was a little bigger, and Thad’s eyes were farther apart. But without question, the pictures were of Chastity and Thad.
“Thad.” She stood. For a moment, the floor seemed to tilt. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes. Holding onto the side of the sofa, she waited for the dizziness to pass. “You have to come here and see this.”
Thad sat at a table. He was huddled over a laptop, where he worked on his newest project as a game designer. “What is it?” he asked, without looking up.
She crossed the small living room and shoved her phone in his face. “See?”
He focused his vision on her hand and the phone. “What is it?” he asked, again. This time, his voice was sharp with alarm.
“Us,” she said. “Our pictures. We witnessed that shooting. Now the cops want to talk to us...”
“We aren’t saying anything to cops,” said Thad. He returned his gaze to his computer.
“We shouldn’t have split last night. I told you that.”
“Yeah, you told me after we got home, and you drank like half a bottle of wine. It wasn’t helpful in that moment.”
“Maybe we should call,” Chastity began.
“Maybe we shouldn’t, and you should let me get back to work.”
“No need to be nasty.”
“Listen, Chas, I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m on a deadline, and you know how that makes me stressed.”
She did know that deadlines left Thad stressed. He had a degree in computer programming, but he did so much more than write the codes. In fact, he was more of an artist. And like he always said, Art can’t be forced. It has to be found.
Still, she didn’t like that the police were looking for them.
“What should we do?”
“Well.” Thad lifted his arms over head. His shirt rode up, exposing his stomach and his abs. “Do you have classwork?” he asked. “Or you could find a workout video on the internet. Get a head start on the weight you wanted to lose.”
She pulled her T-shirt lower over her leggings. “I’m not asking what I should do right now. I’m asking what we should do about the police.”
“Oh, that.” Thad turned back to his work. “I say we do nothing.”
“Nothing?” she echoed. “Where’s your civic duty?”
“How many times have you told me that you hate the cops? Or how often have you said that cops are just schoolyard bullies but with badges?”
The single time she’d dealt with the cops came back to Chastity with a sharp clarity. The memory stabbed her in the chest. She had said that before. “A lot.”
“Yeah, a lot. So, why aren’t you happy that we took the gun? It sounds like the lady cop is up crap creek without a paddle.”
“They know about the gun, though.” Annoyance, hot and sticky, bubbled up from Chastity’s gut. Did Thad really not care about the truth? Or maybe he didn’t understand what kind of trouble they’d be in if the police found them and the weapon they’d taken from the scene of a crime. For Thad, everything was like the games he designed. There was always a secret work-around for any problem. Only this time, there wasn’t.
Sighing, Thad turned toward her. “They don’t know jack. Obviously, we have the gun. The guy—” he glanced at the article on her screen once more “—Robert Grimaldi isn’t going to say anything. If he admitted to pointing a gun at a police officer, he’d be in deep, deep trouble. There’s no video of the incident—or us. All we have to do is lay low for a few weeks. And also, we have to get rid of the gun.”
“Lay low? Get rid of the gun? How’re we supposed to do both?”
“We stay in the apartment for a few weeks and keep the gun here. When this story blows over—and it will blow over—we dump the gun in Lake Michigan. Or we ditch it at the town dump.”
Chastity could feel the walls of the small apartment closing in on her. “Have you thought about food? How’re we going to eat if we’re stuck in here?”
“What’s the matter with you? Order groceries for delivery. Order food from restaurants online, too. My work is online. Your classes are online. We just moved here at the beginning of the month. The only person we’ve spoken to more than once is the old man who lives downstairs. I don’t know if he remembers us all that well to begin with.”
Thad was right. He always was. Chastity slunk back to the sofa and flopped onto the cushions. It’s just that she had hoped Grave Gulch would be more than a place to live, that the town would become their home.
For a moment, she let her favorite daydream swirl around her. She pictured the apartment filled with smiling faces of friends they hadn’t yet made. Laughter. Light. Happiness. Chastity would stand in the galley kitchen. A glass of wine would sit on the counter, as she mashed avocado for her soon-to-be-famous guacamole.
“Who’s hungry?” she’d ask, bowl of chips in one hand, dish of guac in the other.
Thad, while taking both from her, would kiss her cheek. “My girlfriend,” he’d announce. “Pretty. Smart. Talented.”
The party disappeared as the last tendrils of Chastity’s fantasy faded to nothing.
Of course, Thad was right. They only had to stay inside for a few weeks. By then, the whole story would be forgotten.
Still, Chastity couldn’t keep from asking a single question. If Thad was right, why did all of this feel so wrong?