1. Handcuffs on Holidays
I saiah wanted to strangle whoever had outed his little investigation into Poppy Roe to Captain Roberts. He suspected it was the blood technician he had asked to look at the blood spatter again at the latest murder scene. Not many liked having their work questioned.
He wouldn’t have minded the lecture if he hadn’t been so hungover. He didn’t remember all of his friend Axel’s bachelor party, but he’d undoubtedly remember this hangover. Even running his hands through his dark hair hurt.
“Three murders all connected to Ms Roe; I don’t know how you can’t see it,” he said, cutting off his captain as she started to turn purple. He wasn’t sure if she had breathed since he’d closed the door to her office.
Captain Roberts took a deep breath, confirming his suspicion. “Detective Rivers, you’re wasting time and resources searching for a connection between cases that don’t exist,” she said, rubbing her forehead.
“A choreographer who worked with Ms Roe only weeks before she was found strangled in her studio,” Isaiah began, sliding the first file onto her desk.
“Ms Devin had dozens of clients, and the place was ransacked. It was a B I just want to interview her. Her proximity to the victims shouldn’t be ignored.” Isaiah tapped his pen against the desk, trying to rid himself of pent-up frustration.
“They aren’t your cases; you need to let it go,” Michael warned, quietly so the other officers coming and going from the station couldn’t hear them.
“I know, and I don’t have much choice. Roberts will suspend me if I don’t give it up,” he grumbled, resigned to leaving a question mark over the whole thing.
“You can’t help anyone if you’re suspended. Once the funeral is over, Poppy will be out of the country, and you can move on to other cases,” Michael said, drinking from his World’s Best Dad mug.
“Funeral?” Isaiah asked, pulling at his navy tie.He’d been giving evidence in court early that morning, so it was mandatory.
“Martha Roe? Poppy’s aunt? She was a big Hollywood actress back in the seventies.
Took a tumble down the stairs and broke her neck.
Tragic way to go – Poppy found her,” Michael said, shuffling through the papers on his desk.
“I have the report somewhere in this mess; I thought you’d already taken a look into it, considering your—”
“Obsession?”
“I was going to say curiosity,” Michael said.
“You get a look at the scene?” Isaiah asked, wishing he had heard about this sooner. The other officers must have kept it under wraps to stop him from prying.
“No, it was a clear-cut case. Accidental death. Her tox report read like a medical encyclopaedia, and her injuries were consistent with a fall,” Michael said, reading from the report.
“Four bodies in six months? The captain has to listen to me now.”
“Martha Roe’s case is already closed. Case and casket, for that matter. Ms Roe will be six feet under in a few hours. Roberts won’t look kindly on you interrupting a funeral without cause.”
“I’ll stop by and pay my respects,” Isaiah reasoned. “We did investigate, after all, so it would be good to have an officer there to show our respect. The funeral will be packed; what’s one more person?”
Michael stared at him like he had lost his mind. “Gatecrashing a funeral? No wonder the captain’s worried about your mental state.”
“My mental state is fine, and I’m simply going to talk to Ms Roe, off the record.
” Isaiah picked up his third cup of terribly diluted coffee, which was cold, thanks to the length of Roberts’ scolding.
Still, he’d take coffee any way he could.
“I’m sure she’d appreciate a kind word from the department. ”
“I think you want the captain to suspend you. Is that it? You want to be fired?” Michael stood over him, thankfully still keeping his voice down.
“Roberts wanted me to take some time off, and as a member of the public, I see no reason that chatting with a public figure should break any rules.” He prided himself on being discreet. With the captain’s threats, he wouldn’t mention Poppy’s case again without concrete evidence.
“There’ll be so many people and media at the funeral.
With her security, you won’t be able to get anywhere near her.
If you cause a scene on live TV , you’ll never hear the end of it,” Michael exclaimed.
Looking out for him, as always. “Why not wait until after the funeral? Her social media says she’s going on some cruise – stepping away from the limelight to grieve for a while – so wait until things calm down. ”
“Away? Where’s she going? Probably somewhere without extradition.” Isaiah frowned up at his friend. It was a change, as he was the taller of the two, though that wasn’t saying much since they were both over six feet. Michael was leaner, whereas Isaiah was stockier from his school rugby days.
“That’s all you got from what I said?” Michael shook his head. “See for yourself.” Grabbing his phone, he scrolled for a moment and then showed Isaiah Poppy Roe’s social media page. She’d shared a photo outside a church.
A legend can die but can never be forgotten. Please respect my need for space during this hard time. I’ll be back once my heart has had time to heal.
Despite it being posted only an hour ago, there were thousands of comments and likes.
Isaiah took the phone from Michael and flicked through his feed for a moment.
Poppy Roe is rumoured to be setting sail with her long-term actor boyfriend following the death of Hollywood legend Martha Roe.
He watched a few seconds of the live footage outside the church.
“The funeral starts at 11. I can make it,” he decided, getting up and slapping his friend on the back. There was no way he would let Poppy slip away to God knew where when she was so close. “Thanks for the tip.”
“I didn’t show you this so you could confront her at her aunt’s funeral! What exactly do you plan to do? Stroll up to her – if you get past her security and all the other grieving spectators–flash those beautiful brown eyes at her and expect her to answer your every question?!”
Isaiah grinned. “You could never say no to this face.”
Michael rolled his eyes. “Keep pushing your luck, and the captain will wipe the smirk off that handsome face.”
“Tell Roberts I’m taking that holiday she suggested. What I do on my time is my own business. If I happen to run into Ms Roe, it’ll just be a happy coincidence,” Isaiah reasoned, but Michael didn’t look pleased.
“I want to state for the record that I think this is a terrible idea.”
“You worry too much,” Isaiah told him, putting on his jacket. Despite the summer settling in, it was still Ireland.
Michael was his oldest friend.They’d both made detective the same year after cracking a big case, but Michael loved the rule book.
While Isaiah understood the need for the rules, he knew the law didn’t account for the many shades of grey.
He had seen too many innocent people locked up while guilty ones walked free to feel as confident as he once had in the justice system.
His dad had been a detective, and his grandfather had served in the military.
Serving was in his blood, but he cared more about protecting those who needed it than preserving a system.
“You don’t worry enough,” Michael said, returning to his desk. “I don’t even know why you stick at this job. You can’t follow the rules, and if you’re not careful, you’ll end up without a desk.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not going to cause a scene.”
“Don’t call me if you get arrested for trespassing,” Michael said, giving up.
“Fine, I’ll call Francis instead. He’s always had a soft spot for me, and he wouldn’t let your partner rot in jail,” Isaiah said, grabbing his files.
“Don’t even think about dragging my husband into your nonsense,” Michael called after him.
A holiday is the perfect excuse to figure out what’s going on without anyone breathing down my neck, Isaiah thought as he stepped out into the drizzle and hurried to his car.