Chapter 3
AVA - THE SMIRK
I was sitting on a stiff vinyl bench with Jack pacing in front of me, his jaw clenched so tight I was pretty sure his molars were one exhale away from cracking.
The station had gone quiet. And I knew why: people were behind closed doors, whispering, second-guessing.
They sensed it, they had fucked up and now they needed to assess damage control.
Across the bullpen, Harlan Gray stood inside his office, pacing, talking low and fast to two of his officers.
His arms were tense at his sides, hands flexing like he didn’t know what to do with them.
His face was set, but not hard. He looked.
.. shaken, like someone who’d just realized the foundation beneath them might not be as solid as they thought.
I studied him, close cropped hair, military style that could be seen as light brown or dark blonde. Eyes that could be blue but looked like a stormy grey. He looked like he was in shape, fit in the way military men born into it were. His whole presence screamed order.
He could be considered handsome if he wasn’t such a stuck-up asshole.
I took a steadying breath trying to calm the rage inside me, the fear... and then held one as I watched him step out of his office, cross the bullpen, and disappear down the hallway toward holding. Toward Remi.
A minute passed. Then five.
When he returned, he looked pale. Ashen, actually. He didn’t say anything to anyone. Just went back into his office and closed the door.
Everything was on pause. Remi hadn’t been booked, not officially. No charges, no further processing. Just a holding pattern, like the whole place was waiting for someone to say what everyone else was too afraid to.
I was doing everything I could to not scream.
I’d been trying to call Sofia for the last thirty minutes. Straight to voicemail. Her aunt didn’t answer either. The clinic was locked and dark. Sofia hadn’t shown up for her appointment. Instead, her violent ex had, with a weapon.
And no one seemed to be asking why.
I stood, pacing now, scrolling through my contacts again. Nothing from the shelter line. Nothing from the emergency backup phone we gave Sofia last week. Just static. Dread building behind my ribs like water building pressure behind glass.
Jack watched me, but he didn’t say anything. He knew better. When I was in fight mode, words were useless; actions spoke louder.
The door to Harlan’s office creaked open again, and Sergeant Erin Voss stepped out, all smug self-importance and sharp eyeliner.
“Sergeant,” I said, voice sharp. “I need a car sent to check on Sofia Cross. She’s the client. The one whose ex attacked me and Remi today. She never showed up. No one’s heard from her.”
Erin didn’t stop walking. “This isn’t your personal security service, Ms. Sinclair. You don’t get to demand police dispatch every time someone ghosts you.”
I stepped into her path, trying so hard not to grab her by her perfectly slicked back bun and drag her to the Cross home with me.
“This isn’t ghosting, Voss. It’s a potential DV escalation.
If you won’t call it that, then do it as a wellness check.
As her counsellor, I’m within my rights to request one. ”
Erin sneered. “Still doesn’t mean we jump because you snap your fingers.”
“I don't understand how you are in law enforcement,” I said, fury tightening in my chest. “I will make sure to let her family know how enthusiastic you were to help.”
That stopped her, but only for a second. Her lips curved in a thin, mocking smile. “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of telling us how to do ours, your client wouldn’t be in this situation.”
I was about to launch into her when the front doors opened.
And he walked in.
Sofia’s ex.
Dane.
Cold smirk. He had his hands in his jacket pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world.
I froze, because I knew. In my gut, I knew. But my heart was still holding out, still hoping.
“Officer Reid!” Erin barked, and the rookie jumped, escorting Dane toward the interview rooms.
I stepped into his path.
His gaze flicked down to me, amused. Like I was part of some game he thought he’d already won.
“What did you do to her?” I asked, voice low, shaking.
He smiled, a wide crooked smile. “A bit late to be worried about that, don’t you think?”
My stomach turned, and I wanted to cry. Scream. Do something.
“That a confession?” I snapped.
He leaned in, dropped his voice just for me. “I didn’t say anything. You’re the one making assumptions.”
Reid smiled softly at me and gently steered him away.
I stood there, heart in my throat.
I didn’t have proof yet. But I knew.
Something had happened to Sofia.
And this bastard had blood on his hands, whether anyone else could see it yet or not.
An hour passed. Then two.
Jack was on the phone in the corner, arguing with someone at the courthouse, his voice sharp and low enough to stay professional but just shy of volcanic. I had paced the length of the bench so many times that I was going to burn a line in the linoleum.
When Harlan finally came out of his office again, he looked like he’d aged a year. His tie was slightly loosened, and there was a crease between his brows like he hadn’t stopped frowning since he walked into holding.
He made his way toward me slowly, clearly rehearsing something in his head.
“Ms. Sinclair,” he started.
I cut him off. “Send someone to check on Sofia Cross. Please. I’m begging as someone who knows the signs.”
Before he could respond, Erin’s voice sliced through the tension like a dull blade. “What, because she’s fucking the prosecutor, she gets to demand whatever she wants from this station?”
I turned, smiling so cold it could cut steel. “That’s rich, coming from you. Word around town is you’re fucking the Chief. Is that how you made Sergeant... Voss?”
Jack groaned and dragged a hand over his face.
I crossed my arms. “AND... For the record, I’m not the one sleeping with Jack. Remi is.”
Erin faltered for a second, then sniffed. “What’s the difference? You and Remi are like a two-for-one special anyway.”
I lunged.
Jack caught me by my middle. Barely.
Harlan’s eyes ping-ponged between us like a man watching his world implode.
Then, finally, he snapped out of it.
“Enough,” he barked. “Sergeant Voss, not another word.”
She opened her mouth.
“Not. One.” He cut her off.
Erin retreated with a scoff, and Harlan turned to me.
“For the record, I haven’t had any sort of relations with Sergeant Voss since accepting my role as her superior and Chief of Police.”
I snorted at the audacity of this man. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck who you diddle, Chief. You could be hosting department-wide adult-consenting-orgies for all I care. Just make sure your people do their damn jobs.”
Jack and Harlan groaned at the same time.
I took a step forward. “Now. Are you sending someone to check on Sofia or not?”
Harlan hesitated. “On what grounds?”
I stared at him, incredulous. “On what grounds? Are you kidding me right now? She was supposed to be at the clinic and didn’t show. Her ex showed up instead, with a weapon. She hasn’t answered her phone. Her aunt hasn’t either. And you want a list of legal justifications?”
He didn’t answer fast enough. Just stared at me wide-eyed like I was speaking a language he couldn't understand.
“Fine. I’ll go myself,” I said, spinning toward the exit. “Jack, get Remi out of here. Call me if anything changes.”
Harlan called after me. “Ms. Sinclair, you still need to be questioned.”
I didn’t slow. “Wasn’t important hours ago. You can wait now.”
And with that, I walked out of the precinct, praying I wasn't too late and that, for once in my life, my gut was wrong, and Sofia was ok.