Chapter Thirty-One
By the end of the workday Friday, the call came through. Chris was sitting on his couch, nursing his third cup of coffee and watching a baseball game, when his phone lit up with Don’s name.
“Hey,” he answered cautiously.
Don didn’t even say hello. “It’s done,” he said, and just like that, the air left the room.
Chris sat up straighter. “What?”
“The DA’s office called our attorneys. They’re not pursuing charges. There’s not enough to call a grand jury.”
Chris stared at the muted TV screen, as his brain tried to catch up.
“They said more video evidence came in, matched with their own internal investigative findings. Turns out, they agree your use of force was justified, and even the optics aren’t enough to get them to push it through. You’re off the hook, Macklin.”
Chris closed his eyes.
Don continued. “Internal investigation cleared you, too. Suspension should be lifted next week. Paperwork always drags, but it's just a formality at this point.”
There was a pause. Then Don added, in a voice slick with something between amusement and disbelief, “Between us, I heard Ms. Cruz got to the family. Whatever she had on them must’ve been enough to make Lorenzo tell the DA to drop it. Money talks, man.”
Chris gritted his teeth at that. It didn’t sit right. Isabela wouldn’t use a bribe. She didn’t need to. She had something stronger than money. She had the truth.
“Anyway, it’s over. Finally. Breathe easy, my boy,” Don said.
Chris offered his sincere thanks and ended the call.
He didn’t breathe easy though. He stood up and walked the length of his apartment, arms folded, jaw tight.
The internal turmoil persisted. The air was lighter, but the ache hadn't left him.
After six months of living in limbo, it was hard to believe this catastrophe was over.
He picked up his phone again and called Beth. When he told her the news, the scream that met his ear was so loud he had to yank the phone away.
“Oh my God, are you serious?!” she shouted.
Chris couldn’t help the grin that broke across his face. “Dead serious.”
“This is the best news! Sophie’s at Lily’s right now but I’m telling her the second she walks in. This is incredible. I’m so proud of you. I’m so relieved.”
He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear those words. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Thanks, Beth.”
“Dinner next week, you're not getting out of it. Especially now that we have something to celebrate.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
As soon as they hung up, Chris grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He needed to tell his support network in person.
****
Randall’s house in West Seattle felt like it always had, like solid ground. When Chris reached the door, he knocked once, and it opened right away. Randall stepped outside and without a word, pulled him into a bear hug. A deep, grounding one.
The tension he’d kept wound so tightly for so long began to slip loose. He didn’t try to stop it. Chris’s arms wrapped around his best friend. The pressure finally cracked, emotion spilling out in a few silent, broken sobs against his friend’s shoulder.
Randall didn’t say anything. Just held him and patted his back. When they finally pulled apart, both men’s eyes were glassy.
Randall clapped him on the shoulder. “About damn time.”
Of course Randall already knew. Probably found out before Chris did. There were no secrets in the precinct.
Inside the house, the smells of soy sauce and melted cheese blended, making Chris’s mouth water.
“Pizza and sushi night,” Jeanine announced with a grin, emerging from the kitchen.
“Still doing that?” Chris smiled.
“Tradition’s tradition,” Randall replied. “Don’t question it.”
A squeal sounded from the hallway, followed by fast, chaotic toddler footsteps. RJ barreled in like a windup toy on overdrive.
“Unka Chris!”
Chris dropped to a squat just in time to catch the tiny body launching into him. He scooped RJ up, settling the little boy against his chest as he laughed, a sound so unfamiliar it surprised him.
“Hey, buddy. You miss me?”
RJ nodded solemnly, then patted his cheek with both hands and declared, “You come eat!”
“Demanding, like his dad,” Jeanine said, rolling her eyes fondly.
They ate dinner around the coffee table. RJ insisted on sitting beside Chris, dropping sushi rice into his lap while babbling non-stop. Chris didn’t care. It was the best dinner he’d had in weeks.
He didn’t flinch at shadows. Didn’t brace for tension. For the first time in so long, he let himself just be. The ever-present pressure behind his eyes eased. There was no spotlight. No war inside his own head.
Chris leaned back against the couch cushion, exhaled long and slow, and truly relaxed. The night went on until RJ half drooped beside him. Jeanine scooped him up and took him up to bed.
Randall returned from the kitchen with two sodas. He handed one to Chris, then sat down heavily beside him. They drank in companionable silence.
After a while, Randall asked, “Have you asked Ms. Cruz out yet?”
Chris stared at his soda bottle. “Nah.”
Randall turned to him. “Why not? Case is over. No more ethical lines to worry about.”
“There’s always complications.”
Randall tilted his head, trying to read between the lines. Then he said, “She called me Wednesday night.”
Chris turned to him sharply.
Randall nodded. “She needed access to a report in New York state from nine years ago. I put her in touch with an old colleague now a detective in NY who could access what she needed. Also, helped her track down a Torres family member. From what I can piece together, it sounds like that was what blew this whole case open.”
Chris couldn’t speak. He felt like the air had been punched from his lungs. Isabela had tried. She’d fought. All this time he’d believed she’d chosen her career over him, sold him out. But now he wasn’t so sure.
What would he have done in her place? Anything and everything. Whatever it took to protect her. That’s what she’d done. Not to him, but for him. His heart twisted. Guilt and hope tangled like vines.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, soda bottle dangling from his fingers. “I don’t think I’m good for her, Rand.”
“You should probably let her decide that,” Randall said. “But don’t walk away because you're scared.”
Chris didn’t answer, because that was exactly what he had planned to do.