Chapter 25
Athena’s mood had worsened throughout the day as the investigation seemed to stall.
Phone lines and cellular networks were overwhelmed with calls.
The internet service was spotty. Either the website pages spun and spun before opening, or her indicator read “offline.” Hernandez didn’t even make it into the office.
A tree fell on his car, putting a significant dent in the roof and breaking his windshield.
He’d stayed home to cut it up with his chainsaw and watch over his family.
She knew that the city’s criminal elements would take full advantage of the crisis, and so did the Houston Police Department.
Detective Bach escorted Shoops in and then informed Athena that headquarters ordered everyone off their regular cases to serve and protect citizens in peril.
She supposed it was more urgent, especially since they had no leads as to Nexus’ identity.
Athena and Ice had spent the better part of the morning interrogating Whitmore’s security guard, who claimed he’d been in the area on other business.
“I was meeting someone at a bar Thursday night,” Tyrell Jenson retorted. He rolled his shoulders and rubbed his back, appearing very uncomfortable and irritated.
“Didn’t enjoy your night in lockup?” she’d asked.
“No,” the muscled man in his mid-thirties grumbled.
“What bar? Who did you meet and at what time?”
He went on to name the establishment and explain he’d been talking to a young woman he’d met there a few weeks ago, an environmental activist, no less. “Her name’s Faith Hunter,” he said, and wrote down her phone number. “I’d rather Mr. Whitmore and my wife not hear about this.”
“Must have been a long conversation for you to be issued a ticket at 5:30 Friday morning,” Ice had observed. “Or did you get lucky?”
Tyrell shrugged. “My wife’s out of town, and Faith and I have been talking for a while.
I went with her back to her place. Look, Whitmore will think I’m fraternizing with the enemy, and my wife?
” He offered them a pleading look. “She just doesn’t need to know.
It’s not like I’m in the habit of having affairs; it’s just that Faith is so passionate.
I’ve paid the ticket already. What’s the big deal? ”
Athena finally reached the activist and crystal shop employee, Faith Hunter, who verified Jenson’s story.
She told Ice to drive him home and tell him they’re investigating the bombing at Gulf Allied Chemicals.
Travis said Jenson spent the entire ride trying to convince him that his side piece had nothing to do with it.
Cutting the team loose early, Athena closed the door to her office, her eyes falling on the redwood plaque Flash had brought back from her wildfire-fighting trip to California. Keep calm and carry on, it read. She checked her phone. No messages.
Even though she knew Flash would be swamped with calls all day, she shot off a text.
How are you holding up?
A knock tapped lightly at her door. Wondering who it could be, she called, “Come in.” Travis Ice filled her doorway, bundled in the same fleece-lined coat he’d worn that morning.
“Did you want a ride home, or did you decide to stay here tonight?”
Athena was about to say she’d stay when her cell phone buzzed with a notification. Flash had responded. Athena held up a finger.
Not good. You?
That didn’t sound like Flash. She always claimed to be fine, peachy, on top of the world. Athena texted back, My power’s out.
Stay at my place. The building generator’s running. Everything works.
The invitation felt like a warm hug. She glanced back at Ice, who waited patiently for her answer. “Can you drive me across town? Lieutenant Cash’s building has lights and heat.”
A smile spread between his trim beard and mustache. “No problem. Point the way.”
Athena texted back. Thanks. Call when you can, and we’ll talk it out.
Paulson had given up and was watching the Olympics on the big screen. “Goodnight, John. Let me know if you need me to bring you anything.”
“My boy’s coming in about half an hour,” he said. “We decided it was easier for me to bunk here until it thaws. Howard went home, though. I’ll be safe as a bug in a rug.”
“I trust you,” Athena said.
“Where are we in hockey?” Travis asked, his eyes following the action on the screen.
“Haven’t lost any games yet, so here’s hoping.” Paulson held up crossed fingers.
Athena used the key Flash had given her, entering the loft to familiar, homey smells. It was warm, and the light switch responded. She half expected Snuffles to race over, Flash’s strong arms to pull her close, some teasing words on her lips. The image made her smile.
But something was wrong, and she wished Flash would call and talk to her about it. Had she or one of her friends been injured, or was she just exhausted, overwhelmed with calls?
Athena laid her coat on the back of the couch and walked to the window, looking out at the frozen street.
Though the snow had quit falling, it covered every car, bench, tree, and shrub.
Asphalt peeked through in ruts left behind by tires.
A cardinal perched on a utility pole, its red feathers bright against the white.
Across the way, murals covered old brick.
A bundled-up patron exited a craft coffee house.
There was a bicycle shop with a sign reading “We make repairs,” another old warehouse-turned-apartment building, a Vietnamese place, and a neighborhood bar, its rooftop patio blanketed in snow.
Farther down the street rose the steeple of an old church and the rolled-down tin door of an auto repair shop, closed for weather.
Crape myrtles, eastern redbuds, and Texas lilacs lined the two-lane street, with a large, old magnolia dominating a vacant lot.
Even her neighborhood has character, Athena thought.
She left the drapes open as she turned toward the refrigerator.
Leftover baked ziti from the other night, fresh fruit, lettuce and tomato, and some frozen, ready-to-heat-and-eat meals filled the shelves, along with a vast array of dipping sauces and condiments.
And, of course, ice-cold beer. Flash had shown her the fully stocked pantry with cans, boxes, and paper products, but she figured eating things that would go bad if left too long made the most sense.
She pulled out the pasta container and stuck it in the microwave.
Flash’s ringtone startled Athena, and she answered quickly, taking the phone to sit and focus on the conversation. They might not have long.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she answered. “What’s wrong?”
“Just, people are stupid,” Flash blurted out in irritation.
“Isn’t that the truth!” Athena laughed in agreement, but intuition told her there was more to it.
“Yeah, well,” Flash huffed, her voice clipped. “I’m one of ‘em.”
So, that’s it. Flash is upset with herself about something.
“You’re not stupid, Flash. What happened?”
“I made a wrong call,” she lamented.
Athena wanted to hold her tight and kiss away her doubts.
“I knew there was ice on the roof, but not that the chimney fire would melt it and it would go sliding down the pitch in a giant avalanche. I should have thought of that, anticipated it.”
“Was anyone hurt?” Athena remembered what agony Flash went through when her rookie was killed by the pizza bomb. That really wasn’t her fault, but she’d found a way to blame herself.
“No, but I sent Woods up to check the roof, and he slipped. It almost pulled him over the eaves of a two-story house. At best, he’d have broken a leg. At worst …”
“But he didn’t,” Athena emphasized. “You said no one was hurt.”
“Only because he grabbed the ladder. It was a close call, and it shouldn’t have been.”
“Did he blame you for almost getting hurt? Did your captain call you out on it?”
“No,” Flash answered, sounding calmer. “They said none of us know how to handle these winter conditions. If I wasn’t already spent from rushing from one emergency to the next, maybe I’d have been thinking clearly enough to realize the heat from the chimney fire—which had spread to the attic—would cause the ice to melt and slide off. ”
“Listen to me, hot stuff,” Athena said, assuming an authoritative tone. “Did you attend a training course on fighting fires in freezing weather?”
“Do they have those?” Her voice pitched with interest.
“And have you ever worked under these conditions before?”
“In 2021,” Flash said. “This is just like that, only now I have to call the shots.”
“Which you didn’t back then,” Athena reminded her. “Did every call run smoothly in ’21?”
“No,” Flash sputtered out in a disbelieving huff. “Of course not. But I learned stuff that winter, and I should have been able to transfer—”
“And I should have caught whoever started the Gulf Allied Chemicals plant fire that killed four people by now, right?”
“Not so!” Flash snapped. “It takes time to gather and analyze evidence, to track down every witness and person of interest to interview. It took you guys two weeks to catch the smugglers in Laredo. How’d this switch from me screwing up to you taking too long to make an arrest?”
“Because they’re the same, sweetie,” Athena answered patiently. “Just because you’re an officer now doesn’t mean you’ll magically get everything right. We all make wrong calls from time to time and just hope and pray no one gets hurt because of it.”
A pang of old guilt poked Athena, reminding her of walking her team into a trap that had gotten Agent Martin Cruz killed. She knew exactly what Flash was feeling, why it wasn’t helpful, and that it would pass.
Athena heard another station alert in the background. She quickly added, “Thanks for letting me crash here in the warm and cozy.”
“Anytime. Sorry. Gotta run.”
“I know,” Athena said. “And hey, you’ve got this. Whatever the emergency, I have faith in you, Lieutenant Cash. Now, go do what you were born to do, and don’t let anything shake your confidence.”
“Damn, I love you!” Flash clicked off the call, doubtless rushing to save someone from danger.
Hoping her encouragement would help Flash snap out of it, Athena returned to the microwave to get her dinner.
As she ate, a mini-documentary played in her mind of all the times she’d been wrong or failed to solve a crime.
While her track record was solid, it wasn’t perfect.
Nobody’s was. Well, maybe Alexander the Great, the only general in history to have never lost a battle.
I’m no Alexander, she admitted. But in her heart, she knew that’s who Flash strove to be. She’ll learn and be a stronger leader for it.