Chapter Three

Lio

M onday morning rolled around too quickly, but I couldn't blame my surly mood on the day of the week as I stared at the empty pillow beside mine. It only took me a few hours to become addicted to sleeping in Abe's arms, and I wasn't sure when I'd get the chance to do it again. I'd tried like hell to get him to stick around Sunday after brunch, but he'd claimed he had pressing business that needed his attention. I hadn't doubted it was true for a second, but there was something sheltered about his countenance, even when he'd woken holding two handfuls of my ass. His body said hell yeah while his eyes said whoa, Nelly . Getting Abe to stay for food required a lot of cajoling, which was very telling. Abe didn't miss a meal, not even a snack. He'd been ready to throw back the covers and hightail it out of my house. I'd battled the urge to text or call him all day long but decided to leave the ball squarely in Abe's court. I'd already leaped to horrific assumptions the previous night and made a fool of myself. Abe promised we wouldn't repeat what happened five years ago, and I needed to trust him. It was hard not to assume the worst when I hadn't heard from Abe since he left.

Damn you, Abe. Or maybe I was madder at myself for lowering my shields. I knew better than to allow further entanglement without having an in-depth conversation with Abe. A bruised heart and twisting guts were precisely what I'd tried to avoid in the first damn place, but there I was, feeling chewed up and spit out. I couldn't just bury my head under my pillow, but I could bury my face in the one Abe had used and breathe in his scent. That thought made me throw back the covers and leave the bed without a backward glance. If I lingered long enough to make the bed, I'd hug Abe's pillow like a lovesick fool. Maybe I was one, but I didn't have to act like it.

I put myself through a brutal workout in my home gym, blaring death metal over the Bluetooth speaker to drown out my needy thoughts. My body felt like a wilted flower afterward, but my mind felt sharper, and my emotions were back under control. I prepared an egg white omelet, wheat toast, and a cup of strong black coffee to replenish my empty tank before getting ready for work. And that's where all my good intentions died because I remembered Abe had used my shower on Sunday. He'd smelled like my soap and shampoo when he'd sat across from me at the small kitchen table. It had felt like something promising and new until he made his excuses to get the hell out of there. My adrenaline-fueled brain and body stirred at the images of Abe beneath the spray, steam rising all around his glorious body. What I wouldn't give to be a water droplet sliding down the planes and valleys of his beefy body. The droplet would only get one ride before it disappeared down the drain, but what a journey it would be.

I took my dick in hand and stroked myself like I'd done every damn day since breaking things off with my last boyfriend. Abe was single, I was single, and we loved each other. This was supposed to be our time, but I was still jerking off to what could be. My orgasm was a warm hum through my body, but it wasn't the euphoric fireworks display I would experience with Abe. To hear his sounds of pleasure and to have his hands grip my body tightly as he spilled into me was all I craved in the world. I couldn't accept that it would never happen. No. This was our time.

I shut off the water more forcibly than necessary and roughly dried off. By the time I'd dressed and headed out the door with a second cup of coffee, I was in a better mood. My phone buzzed with an incoming message, and I checked the screen. Seeing Abe's name stirred a mixture of excitement and fear. What if he said he'd changed his mind? What if he hadn't? We'd never be able to cross back over the line and settle for friendship after we stepped into a romantic relationship. I swallowed hard and tapped the notification to open our chat thread.

I would've much rather woken beside you. Pretty sure you've ruined me. Sorry for the way I bolted yesterday. I got hit with a wave of grief and didn't know how to process it. Next time, I'll let you help me. Thank you for opening your door, your arms, and your bed to me. I do love you, even if I act like an idiot sometimes.

I expelled a long, shaky breath as my heart pounded in my chest. I hadn't lost ground with Abe. I grinned as I tapped out my response. You're my favorite idiot. Everything I have is open to you. I stopped typing and stared at the message, then debated erasing it until I recalled Abe's chief complaint about me. He'd always said there was private and then there was me. "No one weaponizes their need for privacy like you do," he'd said more than once. I did have a terrible habit of internalizing everything and wielding my independence like a sword. It made me come off as cold and aloof, which was the furthest thing from the truth. But how would anyone know that if I didn't let them in just a little bit?

So instead of deleting what I'd written, I continued typing. I realize that sounds like a come-on, but it doesn't make it less accurate. I love you too. I want you to know I'm listening. No man is an island.

Abe sent back a boat emoji and added, I'm going to row myself to your shores.

My face went up in flames as I thought about the things we'd do once he landed. I put my phone away and headed toward the precinct. The joy from the text exchange stayed with me until I pulled into the parking lot and remembered Alyssa's interview with Dylan Eads was happening that morning. I wanted him off the street and behind bars if the guy was dirty. If he was a victim of coincidence, then I'd feel bad about the scrutiny he'd face. But I didn't believe in coincidence. Ten cases out of hundreds were flagged for malicious prosecution, and seven out of the ten had Dylan Eads as the lead investigator. The odds weren't in the detective's favor, but because Alyssa hadn't shared any of her findings with me, I had no idea how badly they were stacked against Eads. I understood Alyssa's reasons for keeping her investigation close to the vest, but I didn't want to get blindsided by a scandal that would rock the department and shatter the trust I was building within the community we served.

I relaxed the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and reached for my coffee and phone. I was halfway across the parking lot when I heard my name ring out behind me. I'd been deep in thought, so the intrusion caught me off guard, and I flinched. I told myself to get a grip and paused so Sergeant Royce Locke could catch up with me.

"A little early, aren't you?" I asked him.

His students fulfilled their required classes at their county high schools in the morning and wouldn't arrive at the Explorer academy until early afternoon. Locke raked his fingers through his blond hair, which was slightly longer than regulation allowed. It was something I could knock him for but wouldn't. I acted like the guy drove me to madness, but I deeply respected Locke and anticipated he would hold my position someday.

"I need to grade a few more assignments and prepare for our guest lecturer," Locke said. "DA Babineaux is talking to the cadets about the importance of obeying proper procedures and the consequences when they don't."

How apropos . If I had known today's lesson, I would've asked Alyssa if the students could sit in on Eads's interrogation. That would scare them into walking the straight and narrow. I nearly snorted out loud but caught myself in time. "Deputy Chief Shidaker with Internal Affairs would be a great one to talk to the kids," I suggested. "I can put in a good word with her."

"You know Shidaker well?"

I paused to open the door to the building and gestured for him to go first. This was an instance where I could let down my guard with Locke. "We used to be married," I said, "and we have a son."

Locke halted in the doorway and looked over his shoulder. "Get out of here."

"But I just arrived, Sergeant Locke."

"How did I not know this?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. I shooed him inside so I could enter the building. "Alyssa and I started our careers in different police departments and didn't transfer to Savannah until after we divorced," I replied. "I transferred here first, and she followed a few years later. She returned to her maiden name after our divorce, so no one had reason to suspect our prior relationship. We made it easy on everyone around us because we got along so well. More than a few officers have tried to set us up on dates with one another."

Royce laughed. "That must've been awkward."

"We shared a good laugh each time it happened."

Commissioner Rigby had known the truth when she promoted us to our current positions, and that's what mattered to me. I figured our privacy would be over once Eads blabbed his mouth to everyone in the precinct.

"I'd love an opportunity for Shidaker to speak to the cadets," Locke said. "Do you mind asking, or would you prefer I approach her?"

"I'm going to see the deputy chief later this morning, so I'll ask her for you."

"That's great, sir. Thank you." I knew damn well he had more questions about my relationship with Alyssa, just as he suspected there was more than friendship between Abe and me. Locke was an exemplary detective with impeccable instincts, so it was illogical to think he wouldn't pick up on the undercurrents whenever I was in a room with Abe.

"No problem," I said before we parted ways.

I immediately dove into work the minute I sat down in my chair so I wouldn't dwell on what had occurred over the weekend with Abe and what might happen during Alyssa's interview with Eads. I would ignore the nagging voice in my head that chalked up Abe's turnaround to his grief. I hated standing on the sidelines, but I trusted Alyssa implicitly and would prove it by not trying to seize control of the situation. My assistant, Greg Stromberg, arrived thirty minutes later with another cup of hot coffee in one hand and his ever-present tablet in the other. We went over my schedule for the week, which included a variety of speaking engagements, meetings, and performance evaluations for the higher-ranking officers in the department. Greg departed after we concluded our meeting, and I returned to my tasks until it was time for me to observe Alyssa's interview with Eads.

I ducked inside the AV room before the other parties arrived and greeted Officer Clarissa Eubanks, who would ensure the audio and video equipment was working.

"Good morning, Chief," Eubanks said.

"Good morning," I replied.

I sat in the empty chair beside her and noticed the bank of monitors was all dark.

"Tanisha went over to turn on the recording devices." A moment later, the screens lit up, and Officer Tanisha Briggs came into view. "Got a visual, Neesh," Eubanks said into her microphone. "Let's check audio."

Briggs gave her a thumbs-up, then turned on the recording device. "Did you catch the latest episode of Love After Lockup ?" she asked.

Eubanks chuckled and shook her head. "Affirmative that audio is working and negative on the reality show."

"You don't know what you're missing, girl," Briggs replied.

"I'll take your word for it," Eubanks said, "and you should know I have company. Chief Mendoza will be listening in on the interview."

Briggs laughed and waved at the camera before removing her earpiece and exiting the interview room. She appeared in the AV room a moment later. "How's it going, Chief?" Most officers preferred to tiptoe around me but not Tanisha Briggs. I found her demeanor refreshing.

"It's going well, Briggs, but don't spoil what happened on Love After Lockup . I haven't had a chance to watch the latest episode."

Eubanks jerked her head in my direction so fast it was a marvel she didn't wrench her neck. "You watch that crap?"

"Hey now," I said. "Don't yuck our yum. Everyone has at least one guilty pleasure, and reality television is mine." It seemed I couldn't stop sharing once I started.

"It's my guilty pleasure too," Tanisha said. "This world is tragic enough. I don't need that angst in my entertainment too." She held out a fist, and I bumped it.

"What's your guilty pleasure?" I asked Eubanks.

She lifted her Star Wars mug. "I love all things sci-fi."

We passed the time in casual conversation until Alyssa popped into the AV room. She greeted everyone warmly and asked if she was good to go.

"Yes, ma'am," Eubanks said. "Audio and video are working."

She handed Alyssa an earpiece, which she fitted into place. They did a quick check to test the functionality, and she disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived. Moments later, the door to the interview room opened, and Alyssa stepped inside. Behind her came Commissioner Rigby, Eads, and a woman I assumed was his attorney. I sat up straighter, and Tanisha excused herself from the room, leaving just Eubanks and me.

Everyone inside the interview room took their seats, and Alyssa removed a file from her messenger bag and set it on the table in front of her. She folded her hands on top of it and notified everyone in the room that she was recording the interview. Alyssa informed Eads he was not under arrest, but she read him his Miranda rights, emphasizing that everything he said could be held against him in a court of law. Eads remarkably didn't react. She asked if his legal counsel was present.

"Yes, ma'am," Eads said politely, then gestured to the woman on his right. "This is my attorney, Juliette Remington."

Alyssa documented the date, time, and names of everyone present before she started with softball questions, asking Eads his full name, rank, and how long he'd been with the Savannah Police Department. For the most part, Eads showed no outward signs of nervousness except an occasional glance in Commissioner Rigby's direction. Her presence during the interrogation lent credence to the importance of the interview.

"Do you know why you're here today, Detective Eads?" Alyssa asked. Though her posture and tone remained neutral, a crack in Eads's cool veneer showed when he briefly clenched his jaw before answering.

"No, ma'am, but it feels like a political witch hunt."

Alyssa tilted her head slightly. "Your position with the Savannah Police Department isn't a political appointment, so why would you say that?"

Remington looked over at her client. "Don't answer. It's irrelevant to this interview." Eads shrugged and gestured to his attorney.

"I'm not sure it's fair to say my question is irrelevant since I was only expanding on your client's answer," Alyssa said. "But I have no problem moving on." She shifted her attention back to Eads. "Are you familiar with Adam Savant?"

Eads's shoulders stiffened slightly. "Yes, ma'am. He's a former prosecutor."

"And have you worked with him professionally in the past?" Alyssa asked.

"Yes, ma'am. Detectives and prosecutors frequently work together."

"Does your relationship with Mr. Savant extend beyond a professional one?"

Eads narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but his attorney held up her hand.

"Don't answer," Remington said.

Alyssa flattened her hands on the file folder, drawing Eads's and Remington's eyes to it. The attorney remained calm, but a blush crept up Eads's neck.

"You should answer the question, Detective Eads, because your job is at stake." The detective notched his chin up higher and simply stared daggers at Alyssa. "Are you aware that every case Adam Savant tried in Chatham County has been reevaluated?"

"Witch hunt," Eads snarled.

Remington turned to her client. "Do not say another word unless I tell you it's okay."

"Seventy percent of the cases where malicious prosecution was identified had one thing in common," Alyssa said. "You were the lead detective."

"Are you going to tell a story or ask my client a question?" Remington asked.

Alyssa opened the file, removed seven pieces of paper, and lined them up in front of Remington and Eads.

"Are these my bank statements?" Eads asked.

"Not another word," Remington warned.

"Yes, these are your bank statements," Alyssa said. "I obtained them by subpoena." She removed a copy of the legal document and handed it to Remington, who took her time reading it before confirming the records were legally obtained. "There are five-thousand-dollar cash deposits into your account, which coincide with the dates of seven investigations where evidence and witness tampering occurred."

I couldn't resist leaning closer to the monitor.

"I don't hear a question," Remington said. All the stalling in the world wouldn't help her client. Alyssa had this punk right where she wanted him.

"Did you accept cash bribes from former prosecutor Adam Savant—who we discovered is your wife's cousin by marriage—to alter your investigations?"

Eads banged his fist on the table, and Remington placed her hand on his forearm. "Are you charging my client with a crime?"

"Not at this time," Alyssa said, then turned to Eads. "However, I am placing you on paid suspension until I've completed my investigation."

"You can't do that," Eads said.

"Keep it together," Remington warned again.

"She can and she will ," Rigby said, breaking her silence. "I want your gun and badge right now."

Eads unclipped his badge and slammed it down in the center of the table. I tensed as he reached for his gun but relaxed when Rigby and Alyssa moved their hands to a drawing position. The disgruntled detective wouldn't catch them off guard if he decided to turn on them, but he peacefully removed the ammunition clip from his gun and set it next to the weapon on the table.

"It would be in your best interest to come clean now," Alyssa told Eads.

The detective's face turned bright red, and he visibly trembled. "It would be in your family's best interest if you just dropped your witch hunt altogether."

"Shut up, Dylan," Remington said. "This interview is over. I want the cameras and audio off right now."

Alyssa ignored the attorney's request and leaned closer to him. "Are you threatening my family, Detective Eads?"

Remington stood up. "We're leaving. Now, Dylan." When he didn't budge, she gripped his bicep and pulled until he rose to his feet.

"Your husband's career will be over when this gets out," Eads snarled. "The boys in blue won't stand for this. He better watch his back."

Beside me, Eubanks snorted. "Usually, I'd be pissed he overlooked the female officers, but I'm glad he acknowledged we're too smart to fall for his shit." I would've laughed if Eads and Alyssa weren't squaring off like two gunslingers as Remington physically tried to extricate her client from the room.

"My husband is a parole officer, so you must be referring to my ex-husband, and you must know Chief Mendoza is more than capable of taking care of himself."

I felt Eubank's scrutiny and met her gaze. She lifted a brow and I nodded.

Eads laughed. "Really?" He looked at the camera mounted in the corner. "Is that why you're hiding behind two women while they do your dirty work for you, Chief?" he yelled.

Remington managed to wrestle him out the door. I balled my hands into fists and barely managed to resist confronting him in the hallway, which, of course, was what he wanted. Alyssa switched off the recording devices, then reappeared in the AV room to return the earpiece.

"Do you have a minute to talk?" she asked me.

"Of course. Let's head to my office."

We both thanked Eubanks before heading out into the hallway. Neither of us would utter a word about Eads or his investigation outside the privacy of my office, but walking in silence felt awkward, so I told her about Earl's passing.

"I hate to hear that," she said. "Please give my love to Abe."

"Will do. Abe is having a small gathering at the cabin this weekend to celebrate Earl's life. Would it be okay if I picked Alex up on Sunday night instead of Friday? I want to be there for him."

"Of course. Abe is family."

Once alone in my office, I gestured for Alyssa to have a seat. "I understand there's a lot you can't share with me right now, but I'm dying to know about the stuff you mentioned in the interview."

"As you know, we look at officers' lifestyles and financials when we suspect them of being dirty. Eads's wife is a schoolteacher, and nothing about their home or vehicles looked suspicious, but we hit paydirt when we subpoenaed the bank records. As you heard, there was a big cash deposit during each of the seven investigations. The money didn't land at the same time, but it usually came after Eads had formally handed the investigation over to Savant's office. The money usually lined up with witnesses recanting or changing their statements or evidence going missing before it could dispute the new narrative." She shook her head. "The guy isn't very bright. I wouldn't have much to work with if he hadn't deposited the cash."

"What about the family connection? You said he's related to Eads's wife through marriage. A cousin?"

Alyssa nodded. "A stepcousin. Savant's wife is Larissa Eads's stepdad's niece. One of my investigators found the connection through Larissa's social media postings. Larissa hosted a bridal shower for the future Mrs. Savant. There were additional photos of Dylan and Larissa at the wedding a few months later, looking pretty cozy with Mr. and Mrs. Savant. There were several other images of the two couples on vacations and at other outings before and after the wedding."

I laced my fingers behind my head and leaned back in my chair. "Interesting."

"Larissa Eads, or someone with her passwords, deleted those photos right after I pulled Dylan in the first time. He must've called her as soon as he left my office, but it was too late. We'd already made the screen grabs."

I gestured toward her messenger bag. "What else do you have in his file?"

She quirked a brow, and I shrugged. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

"I believe you said the same thing when you hit on me the first time, and I refused to give you my phone number."

I laughed at her wry expression. "Okay, so I need new material."

She tilted her head to the side and considered me for a moment. "It's probably why you and Abe are still dancing around the obvious after all this time. You idiots are so right for each other, and yet…" Alyssa's exaggerated sigh expressed her annoyance more than words could.

"Hey now," I said. "I don't interfere in your love life."

Alyssa crossed her arms over her chest and quirked a brow. "Really? You're the one who introduced me to Russ."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "And you're welcome."

Alyssa giggled and stood up. "I need to get going."

"Before you do, I promised to ask if you would give a lecture at the Explorer academy."

"Tell Sergeant Locke I'd be happy to talk to his cadets. He can email me with available dates, and we'll pick one that works for both of us." She tilted her head to the side. "You do know Alex is planning to apply to the academy once he's old enough."

"I do," I replied.

"And you're sure Locke is the best fit to mold these young kids? Don't they call him a wildcard?"

"There's no one better for the job," I replied. "You have the same access to Locke's personnel file as I do, and I'm sure you've already checked him out after Alex first started making noise about the academy."

"Guilty," Alyssa admitted.

"Then you know his record is exemplary. He's earned the wildcard moniker because of his pranks. I teased him about giving me grayer hair on the first day we met, and he gave me a box of Just for Men hair dye."

Alyssa laughed and visibly relaxed. "I trust your judgment, Lio."

I smiled and said, "Right back atcha. I hope the rest of your day gets better."

"Same to you."

I dove back into my work after Alyssa left and didn't let up until Greg's voice came over the intercom to let me know there was a reporter from Savannah Morning News on the line for me. I assumed Eads had already gone to the press, but Greg explained he was calling about Alex's baseball game.

"One of the parents recorded Alex hugging the pitcher and sent it to the newspaper," Greg said.

"Very well," I said, then accepted the call. "This is Chief Mendoza."

"Good afternoon, Chief. My name is Jimmy Skye, and I'm a reporter from Savannah Morning News ." I was familiar with his articles and relaxed a little more. He wasn't a gotcha journalist or even a sportswriter. Skye wrote heartwarming, human-interest stories. "I'd like to interview you about the baseball game this weekend."

"Sure," I said.

Jimmy asked a few questions about the incident before digging deeper into the relationship between father, son, and baseball. Something about the reporter's unassuming, conversational style lulled me into sharing the similar experience I'd had with Abe when I was a teenager and how badly I'd reacted.

"What happened after the dust settled?" Jimmy asked.

"Well, we continued to be bitter rivals for a few years, but Abe eventually became my best friend and Alex's godfather."

"Life is funny sometimes, isn't it?"

"It really is," I said. "I hope Alex builds a friendship with Clint that lasts a lifetime too."

"Thank you for your time, Chief."

"My pleasure, Mr. Skye."

After we hung up, I was stunned by how much information I'd divulged about myself to a stranger. It made sense that I'd opened up to Locke, Eubanks, and Briggs. Either Skye was exceptional at his job, or I was learning to let my guard down. I also realized much of the interview, if printed, would sound like a love letter to Abe. I waited for the panic to hit, but it never came.