Chapter 19
Jack looked up from between Heaven’s legs, glanced over her navel, and appreciated the abundance of shiny curls that draped over her shoulders.
She was a raven-haired beauty—a stone-cold stunner who seemed too pretty for life in blistery Chicago.
Jack always thought she was more suited for Miami or Hollywood, but he was grateful all the same that she didn’t live in either of those places.
“Jack, tell me, how was work?” she asked between sensual moans.
“It was okay,” he said casually. “Humdrum, really.”
“I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Trust me, baby, it was uneventful…. Plus, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
Heaven forced his head up. “Since when don’t you tell me how your day went?”
“I wish there were something worth telling, but I’ve got nothing.”
Jack’s cellphone rang. It was the phone he had exclusively for comms with Chaz. “Damn it. I’m sorry, darling,” he said, reaching for the phone. “I’ve got to take this.”
Heaven gave a frustrated sigh and buried her face in a pillow.
He answered: “What is it, Chaz?”
“Turn on the news,” he said, sounding frantic. “Brass is holding another press conference. They must have something. You think Rory talked?”
“Fuck,” Jack said, grabbing the remote, turning on the TV, and flipping channels.
“What is it, baby?” Heaven asked. “What’s wrong?” She moved toward the end of the bed, where Jack stood naked on the phone.
He located the news broadcast and turned it up loud.
Top brass—high-ranking members of the Chicago Police Department—stood addressing reporters and a large crowd.
The police chief and mayor were behind a podium, while other officers in dress blues and topcoats fanned outward along the steps of City Hall.
“As most of you are aware, we have launched a formal investigation into the shooting of Hollis Montrose, an off-duty Metra police officer,” the chief said.
“The shooting involved four of our officers, all of whom are currently on administrative leave pending the investigation. As of now, no charges have been filed against Mr. Montrose; however, we believe they are imminent. I want to remind the public that investigations of this magnitude take time, and we continue to ask for patience. We now open it up for questions.”
The chief acknowledged a reporter in the crowd and the camera panned to a Black woman in a green overcoat. “Carla Whitlock with WGN,” she said.
“Yes, Ms. Whitlock.”
“We’re hearing reports that a gun was found at the scene, possibly belonging to Mr. Montrose, and that it may have been fired. Is that accurate?”
“There was a gun recovered at the scene, and it is believed to have been in Mr. Montrose’s possession at the time of the traffic stop.”
“Was the gun fired?”
“At this time, we cannot confirm if the gun was fired, but our forensics team will conduct all necessary tests and report those findings.”
“What about body cams? Were the police officers wearing them at the time?”
“None of the officers were using body cameras.”
“Do you think that if they had, you would have a clearer interpretation of the events from that night?”
“What are you implying?”
“That perhaps the body cameras would’ve illuminated the more obscured aspects of this case.”
“I don’t want to waste time with hypotheticals, Ms. Whitlock.”
“I understand that sentiment, Chief,” she said. “But do you intend to have all officers in the department use body cams in the foreseeable future?”
“Body cameras are a critical resource that help protect officers and the public and bring accountability. They are something we’re looking into for all of our districts.
So far, we have equipped three of our districts with body cameras as part of a pilot program and anticipate their use will be more widespread in the coming year. ”
“And one more question, Chief,” Carla said, looking at her notes. “We’ve all seen the video circulating online and on some news outlets. The video appears to depict the traffic stop and subsequent shooting. Have you been able to determine the authenticity of the video and where it originated?”
“No.”
“Is that something you’re actively looking into?”
“Yes, of course. Where the video originated and what it shows are of utmost interest to our investigation.”
“Do you care to elaborate?”
“Not at this time, Ms. Whitlock. But please know this: We are running a thorough investigation.”
The crowd stirred. Multiple reporters raised their hands.
“Fuck,” Jack said again, turning off the TV and tossing the remote aside. He sat at the edge of the bed with his left leg bouncing.
Heaven scooted behind him, wrapped her legs around his waist, and started rubbing his back. “What’s all this about, Jack?”
“People hate us until they need us,” he said. “And then want us punished when we do our jobs effectively, but no one’s focused on the facts.”
“You really think people hate cops?”
“Well, they sure as hell don’t love us.” Jack was beginning to sober up. He was never in his right mind when he drank, and he’d already said too much. “But never mind all that. Some things will never change…at least not in this city.”
“Seems like a glib way of seeing your job. If it’s so bad, then why do it?”
“I ask myself that every shift,” he said. “Not sure I have a good answer.”
Heaven looked at the clock. “It’s getting late,” she said. “I should get back to my place, still have some reading to finish.”
The mood was dead. She got out of bed, put on her bra, and fastened it.
“You don’t want to hang around a little longer?” he asked.
“I probably shouldn’t.”
“I need you to know something, and I need you to really listen.”
Heaven slipped on her lace panties. “Okay.”
“Are you listening?”
She paused and looked him in his eyes. “Yes, Jack, you have my undivided attention.”
“Good, because I’m only going to say it once, and I don’t care if you want to hear it or not because it’s the truth.”
“All right…”
“I can’t get you off my mind,” he said. “And I’ve worked over plenty of reasons why. You’re beautiful, you’re dynamite in bed, you never bore me, and if I’m being honest, I can’t imagine my life without you.”
“Look, Jack—”
“Let me finish…please?”
She nodded.
“What I’m trying to say is, I love you, Heaven. And it ain’t about all the stuff we do in bed, either. It’s beyond that for me. I see us on a beach somewhere or living in the countryside making a life for ourselves.”
Heaven giggled. “You mean like on a ranch?”
He smiled at her. “I don’t know. Maybe? I’m trying to say, I see us together and happy.”
“That’s really sweet, but I want to know you, Jack. The real you.”
“You do know me.”
She walked over to him and gave him a hug. “I know the little bit you’ve told me, which isn’t much. But if this is love, we can’t have any secrets.”
Jack’s thoughts were scattered. She smelled so good, and he leaned into her. Heaven weakened him and made him unable to see beyond what she wanted.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” she asked. “I don’t want us to hold anything back.”
He encircled his arms around her waist. “Yes, I understand.”
“I know you’ve got some things you keep from me, and I’m not saying you need to tell me all of it. I just need to feel like our connection is more than physical, that it’s deeper.”
He exhaled.
“Okay. There are some things I did…some things I let happen. And once I tell you, you’ll either run, or you’ll understand why I haven’t slept through the night in years.”
Then, just above a whisper: “You sure you want to know?”
She nodded once, steady.
“Then I’ll tell you. But after this, nothing will be the same.”