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Stacy rolled over and vomited. She felt something recoil from the bed next to her.
“Shit.”
Stacy opened her eyes to see that she had covered Gavin’s shirt in vomit.
Stacy sprang up in the bed. “Gavin, what the... Oh no! I’m so sorry.”
Still wearing his shirt from yesterday, Gavin looked down at the streams of fresh bile running down the shirt’s pleats. He looked at Stacy, his eyes showing a gentle concern. He laid his hand lightly on her shoulder. Instead of flinching like Stacy normally would, she was soothed by the gesture.
“It’s okay,” he said. “It needed dry-cleaning anyway.” He looked down, wide-eyed. “Got some on my pants, too.”
Stacy pulled the cannula from her nose and reached over to turn off the machine. “Let me help clean this up.”
Gavin held up a hand. “I’ve got it. Stay there and rest.” Sleep-smeared, Stacy wasn’t sure of the day or time. “It’s morning. I stayed here last night.”
Stacy felt invigorated after the rest. Gavin took off his shirt and pants, both tailored and fit him perfectly. His hair and eyes glinted in the shadowed room. Gavin had smooth, flawless skin that hugged the faint traces of rippled muscles around his torso and back. His sharp lips were attractive and captivating. Stacy thought back to those lips pressed against her head and how his breath was soft and warm in that gentle kiss. She wanted it again but decided to do nothing.
Gavin had shown more than a professional interest when he transferred to the Robbery/Homicide Unit of the Cleveland Police Department. During the mentally and physically taxing investigation into the death of Cleveland Browns football player Devon Baker in September, Gavin had taken Stacy to the Blue Point Grille in downtown Cleveland, one of the best and swankiest restaurants in the city. Stacy appreciated the respite and enjoyed the company but dating or even seeing colleagues who worked together in various law and order capacities within the department was explicitly against the code of conduct. Stacy could lose her job as a result.
Since then, Gavin had remained a close confidant and always treated her with tender respect that she found endearing. Now, their relationship would become more complicated because Gavin had seen her in a vulnerable position that few had before. Now he knew of Stacy’s condition, and its impact on her was more than just conjecture and hearsay.
Stacy swung her legs from under the covers. Gavin fumbled with his soiled clothes. Stacy nearly bumped into him. “Here, let me have these,” she said, pulling the shirt and pants from Gavin’s hands. He blushed as Stacy stared at him for a moment.
“I can’t believe I’m standing here almost naked.”
“Don’t get used to it. And sorry I puked on your clothes.”
“How bad is it?”
Stacy looked at Gavin and arched an eyebrow. “How bad is what?”
Gavin held out an arm and swept it around the room, eying the oxygen machine as he moved. “This.” He looked up and locked eyes with Stacy and then pointed at her chest. “And that.”
There was a part of Stacy that felt powerless to resent his questions. Stacy took a deep breath and turned around. Melancholic waves commanded her body to halt, to stop hiding, stop denying the seriousness of her condition, to stop wanting to hide it—to just stop. Her cheeks became wet with tears. She hadn’t noticed she was crying.
“I’ve lost another eight percent of my lung function,” she said placidly.
“Stacy, my God,” he said. He took a step toward her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged and clasped her hands so tightly together that the palms began to burn.
She turned back around, avoiding eye contact with Gavin. “I don’t want or expect any pity. This is something I have to deal with for the rest of my life, and I am capable of managing it.”
“This isn’t something to be faced alone. I’m here now.” Gavin reached out to touch her with his gentle hands, but Stacy brushed past him, pulled open the door to the bedroom, and marched down the hallway, her footfalls heavy and purposeful. Gavin had spun around the room to watch her leave just as the doorbell rang.
Gavin ignored it, but then a loud banging on the heavy steel door leading into her loft rattled the walls. The doorbell rang again, followed by more loud banging. Gavin heard the whirring and swishing of water coming from a room down the hall but did not hear Stacy.
The doorbell rang again, followed by heavy pounding.
“All right, all right,” Gavin called out, speaking to himself and nobody at the same time.
Gavin’s feet felt cold against the concrete steps that led downstairs. He shuffled across the hall and grabbed the arched handle, then pulled back.
As soon as a crack of light from the hallway emerged, a man began speaking.
"Jesus, Stacy. I was scared that something had happened...."
After Gavin pulled back the door, Austin attempted to walk in but froze in mid-motion.
“Gavin?”
His face flushed red. “Hi, Austin.”
Both men looked at each other, then stared down at the floor. Gavin’s face burned red while Austin shuffled his feet.
“Apparently, this isn’t a good time. I can come back.”
“No, actually, it’s fine.”
Austin arched an eyebrow. “Uh, Diana sent me over to check on Stacy and to let her know that Houston PD went into Colton DeVito’s apartment and didn’t find anything. No cell phone. No computer. Nothing.”
He paused, and his face paled. “I didn’t know about...” his voice trailed off, and he looked over Gavin, “about this.”
Stacy traipsed down the steps. “Who’s at the door? Gavin—”
A look of shock registered on her face before she could hide it. “Austin.”
His face was washed blank with confusion like his brain couldn’t turn fast enough to take in what his wide eyes were seeing.
“Obviously, I’ve interrupted something.”
He gave Gavin a scornful look and then shot a glance at Stacy.
“Austin, this isn’t what it looks like.”
He flung a hand back at her as he walked away. “I’ll see you back at the station.”
***
When Stacy arrived at her cubicle, Austin was typing on the computer keyboard.
As he felt her presence, he stopped typing for a moment. “I don’t need an explanation.”
Stacy had changed into a black pantsuit with a white high-cut top. She dropped her gaze to the floor and hooked her thumbs into the loops on her pants. “Actually, I need to explain.”
Austin was red in the face, and the color set against his dark skin made him look ill. Stacy knew that he controlled his anger well, but she could sense his frustration smoldering beneath the stony expression.
"Gavin and I...."
His nose wrinkled, and he drew his head backward. “I would really appreciate it if my partner would have the courtesy to tell me she’s fucking the prosecutor assigned to our unit. That way, when I come to do a welfare check on her after she collapses in our building, I won’t be shocked when he’s standing almost naked in her living room.”
"Austin, I can explain...."
Austin looked up and glared at her. His nostrils flared, and his lips curled. "Gavin already did the explaining. He called and left me a voicemail. I don't believe him, but if the two of you want to play house, fine. By the way, I covered everything with the captain. She's glad that you're okay." He slapped his hand on the table. "Dammit, Stacy. The department policy for this shit is quite clear."
Stacy kept her gaze off him. She couldn’t bear to look his way. “Gavin kissed me.”
Austin became slack-jawed. “Excuse me?”
“It just happened. Or it almost did. He was trying to comfort me when I was struggling to breathe.”
“I bet he was.”
“Austin, that’s all that happened. I’m not going to risk my career or the work we’ve done together for some easy fling. I’d like to think you know me better than that.”
Austin dropped his pen and leaned closer. “Sometimes, I wonder.”
The conversation was interrupted by the high-pitched blip of her office phone. Stacy locked eyes with Austin as she answered. “Lieutenant Tavitt.”
“Ah, Lieutenant.” Cuyahoga County Coroner Dr. Adam Myers cleared his throat before speaking. “I have some news about Ms. Crawford.”
Stacy snapped her fingers at Austin. “Okay, great! I’m going to put this call on speakerphone.”
“Be my guest,” he replied genially. Stacy found Dr. Myers to be a wealth of information for everything concerning trauma and death to the human body. However, his diligence and pace of investigation naturally took time. The fact that he already had a preliminary report on Brooke Crawford’s autopsy was unexpected and, she hoped, meant good news.
“Adam, Austin is here with me.”
“Hello, Detective Cerrera.”
“Hey, Doc.”
Dr. Myers paused for a moment before speaking again. “I have finished the preliminary report on Brooke Crawford. I am ruling the cause of death as a homicide. The two bullets fired into the upper posterior occipital area of the skull is what killed her. It looked like one bullet hole, but I found two bullets lodged inside. One of the bullets clipped her brain stem, and the other was lodged into the skull but did little damage.”
“Must have been a good shot done by someone with some skill,” Austin said.
Stacy nodded. The information matched what she observed at the crime scene.
“Also, I didn’t find any marks or abrasions on the body. And no signs of sexual assault. I did find some type of grease on one of her hands. I wasn’t able to identify it, but my guess is probably cooking oil or something she might have been using to cook a meal for herself.”
Stacy and Austin exchanged looks.
“I still have a little more work to do, but I’ll send over the final report as soon as it’s ready.”
“I appreciate it, Doc,” Austin said and nodded at Stacy to end the call.
“So,” he said, sitting back and resting his hands on his head. “Other than the gunshot wound, there are no signs of physical violence.”
Stacy considered his words for a moment, then shook her head to signify resigned and quiet comprehension.
“That also means someone staged this scene.”
“If that’s the case, then that fact raises another red flag.”
Stacy made a face. “Where are we on the search warrant on Colton DeVito’s cell phone and bank records?”
Austin smacked his lips. “Well, that is something that Gavin managed to do in between making house calls. The warrants are filed. As soon as it’s signed, we’ll start.”
“Let’s get Charlie in on this. Chad Means, too. We need the help.”
Chad Means was another officer Stacy recruited and relied on when investigating the murder of Cleveland Browns’ football player Devon Baker. Means was strong but quiet and observant. Stacy had depended on him to provide a strong physical presence as she and the team interrogated suspects and traversed Cleveland Browns Stadium looking for clues.
Austin got up. “I’ll let them know.”
“One more thing,” Stacy added. “Find out about the date and time of the press conference, and let’s make sure that public affairs alert the media. I want them all there.”
“And you want them both at the podium at the same time?”
Stacy nodded. “I want to see if Dad feels the same way about dear old Colton as Mom does. His nonverbals will give us some idea.”
Austin made a face. “Fine. Give me ten minutes.”
As Austin left, Stacy picked up her cell phone. She had two new voicemail messages that she didn’t have time to listen to now. She sighed at the thought of them and called Gavin instead. The call went straight to voicemail.