28. Twenty-Eight

twenty-eight

Charlotte

"WHERE THE FUCK IS MY LAWYER!?" Karl hollered, growing aggravated the more he struggled moving his hands, courtesy of them being handcuffed to the table.

He'd been hostile ever since Phoenix and Chief escorted him in, demanding for his lawyer before they could ever get Karl inside an interrogation room. Ben still hadn't arrived yet and until he was actually here and with Karl, neither detectives could begin the interrogation.

A tear slipped out of my eye, and I quickly swiped it away, torn and utterly broken by all of this. I just couldn't believe it, but it was hard denying the truth when it had been embarrassingly staring me right in the damn face not even ten minutes ago. It was bad enough Karl's DNA matched in Amber's case, but to make matters worse, the GPS in Karl's police cruiser put him inside a parking lot across the street from the sanctum on the night Delilah was attacked. Spike did mention that he couldn't exactly recall each time I went to the sanctum—and unfortunately, neither could I—but he'd also shown me that there had been multiple occasions dated three months back where Karl was camped out in that exact spot for long periods of time.

Spike was right.

Karl knew all along and I never had the slightest fucking clue.

"CHARLOTTE!" he screamed, and I shrieked, jumping back from the window with my hands against my mouth as he glared through the glass like he had X-ray vision. "I know you're there! Come in here and tell me what the fuck is going on!"

The door behind me opened, and I abruptly twisted around, expelling a relieved breath when Phoenix and Spike walked in with Ben, who nodded briefly at me before he departed inside the interrogation room to be with his client.

"It's about fucking time," Karl hissed, and Spike scoffed, turning off the speaker box.

"Are you okay?" Phoenix asked me.

I shook my head, another tear helplessly sliding down my cheek. "I'm not."

"You don't have to stay here for this. Chief called Harley."

I groaned at the mention of Harley, my heart sinking. "She's going to take me off these cases."

"You don't know that, Charlotte," Spike said gently. "Let's just get through questioning Karl and then we can worry about the rest after."

I began to open my mouth, but instead of arguing over a matter I was far more educated in, I just let them get to work, watching nervously as they entered the room and took their seats in front of Karl and Ben. I turned on the speaker and overheard Ben politely asking one of the detectives to uncuff Karl from the table.

"Tough shit," Spike carelessly replied. "Given his track record, he stays cuffed to the table."

"What the hell is this about?" Karl asked, seeming completely clueless as he gaped between Spike and Phoenix.

Phoenix opened the file he was holding and one by one, pulled out each gnarly photo of Delilah Fields and Amber Strickland, placing them neatly in rows atop of the table.

"What's wrong, Karl?" Spike growled angrily when Karl cursed heavily and turned his head away, his throat bobbing. "Can't stomach to look at your own handiwork?"

Karl's eyes immediately locked with Spike's, and my heart sank at the dark look flashing through them both.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Their names are Delilah Fields and Amber Strickland," said Phoenix, who surprisingly sounded much calmer than Spike. This was the first time I'd ever seen them in action with a suspect, so I could only assume Phoenix's role had to be the good cop and well… Spike was just an honest asshole.

"You're telling us you don't know and have never met these girls?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," was Karl's stern response.

My guts twisted the longer and harder I studied Karl's expression. How he was able to school his emotions and hold a straight face was utterly disgusting.

"Listen, Detectives," said Ben. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing with my client, but this is clearly harass—"

"We have his DNA."

Ben clamped his mouth shut, clearly stunned, and then glanced worriedly at Karl, whose skin was paling.

I took in another breath as Phoenix began explaining the situation between Delilah, Amber, and our DNA findings on Amber, just for my heart to painfully sputter behind my ribs when Karl leaned over toward Ben and began to whisper. Whatever was said, I hadn't a clue, but Ben nodded and then together they turned to give the detectives their undivided attention.

"I do know Amber," Karl muttered, the admission gutting me in half. "But the other girl, I swear I don't know who she is. I've never met her."

"We'll start with Amber then," said Phoenix. "How do you know her?"

"I met her in a grocery store about maybe two, almost three months ago. We exchanged numbers and yeah, we hooked up a few times, but it was nothing serious. Hell, I didn't even know she was married. She wasn't wearing a ring when I met her, or the two, maybe three times she was at my apartment."

Karl cursed when he tried to move his hands and couldn't.

"Look, I have no idea who did this, but I swear to you, it wasn't me. I'm obviously being set up here."

"What makes you say that?" Phoenix asked as Spike scoffed beside him, shaking his head.

"Because I haven't seen or spoken to Amber in over a month. I have no clue how my DNA ended up on her body, but I fucking swear on my life that I haven't been anywhere near her. I can prove it too. Just check the data on my ankle monitor."

My lips parted, and it was at that moment when Spike and Phoenix exchanged weird looks that I knew they hadn't considered it or hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Then again, with the DNA results putting Karl at the scene, they probably thought they didn't have to.

But still, I knew Karl, and I swear on my goddamn life that this was not me being the worried, remorseful ex-wife here. I could plainly tell just from the look on Karl's face and how he kept worriedly gaping at Ben like he was his life vest that something wasn't right. If Karl really was being truthful and was able to prove it…

Then how in the fuck did his DNA end up on Amber's body?

"Excuse me for just a moment." Phoenix got to his feet, leaning down long enough to whisper something in Spike's ear.

Spike nodded, and all I could do was stare nervously at Phoenix as he entered the room I was in and closed the door behind him.

"We need to talk, and we have to make it fast before Spike decides to go rogue and gets physical."

"What is it?" I asked around the lump in my throat.

"I know this is hard and an awful lot to process, and I'm sorry. But I really need you to listen to me right now."

"Okay," my voice shook as I nodded. "I-I'm listening."

"We still have a lot to do, but I have to be honest with you about this, Charlotte. It's not looking good for either of you."

"For me?" I questioned with a hand to my chest, forcing myself to swallow down the massive lump. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Spike and I both agreed to do everything we possibly can to keep your name and involvement with the sanctum out of this. Spike's theory was only supposed to be a theory, Charlotte. We never expected him to find what he did."

Phoenix scrubbed tiredly at his face and then blew out a hoarse breath.

"Karl's DNA may not be on Delilah, but it doesn't excuse the fact the GPS in Karl's patrol car proves he was in a neighboring parking lot on the night she was attacked. That automatically makes him a suspect, Charlotte, and you know it, especially given how long he was camped there that night. As far as I know, outside of me, you, and Spike, nobody else knows this information. But since Chief called Harley and filled her in on everything, knowing what we do puts all of us, especially Spike and myself, in a real fucked-up spot. We care about you, Charlotte. We… We love you," he whispered, coming closer and cupping my face in his hands.

"We don't want to hurt you, or worse, lose you."

Tears filled my eyes, and I shook my head, not believing this was happening right now. As sweet as his words were, I knew I couldn't be dumb about this. I had to really listen and consider everything he was telling me.

Captain Burgess knew the drill, as did Chief.

And now, Harley knew about the texts and the dead cat, plus the DNA match on Amber.

Fuck.

"I don't want you two covering for me," I whispered, sniffling as I raised my head and locked eyes on his, letting him know I was serious despite what I knew this would mean for my career. "You're right. We are in a fucked-up spot, but we have to do our jobs, and we have to do this right despite how much or who it hurts."

"Charlotte," his voice cracked as he pulled me close to him, holding on tight.

"It's okay, Phoenix," I promised. He was so damn sweet, and the fact he was so goddamn perfect for me should be a goddamn crime. "Whatever you have to ask him, ask away. Either way, with or without the package or texts, I'm done, Phoenix. Harley won't let me continue."

"Right you are," the devil's voice boomed through the room.

Phoenix released me, and we both shared a gulp as we laid eyes on Harley with her back pressed against the outer door and a hand against her hip, her head cocked to the side.

"How," I started, already knowing the answer as she narrowed her eyes at me. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough."

She stepped away from the door, and then eyed me and Phoenix, her glare darkening.

"Long e-fucking-nough."

I winced as Harley paced Captain Burgess's office, shouting obscenities that made me shrivel down in my seat like a child getting scolded by their parents for getting caught in a serious fib.

"I'm sorry, Harley," I said, my voice coming out pitifully weak, my shoulders slumped. "I know I should've told you about my connection with the sanctum, and that I was there the night Delilah was attacked. I mean, I was there, but I wasn't inside the building when it happened. I'd already left and was headed home."

My breath caught then, as something important, crucial—a memory, flashed in my head.

That was the same night Karl pulled me over.

He followed me from the club.

"Yes, you should have," she'd all but screamed at me, and I looked up, finding her face twisted in a rage so intense that it had sent a dreadful chill spider-walking down my spine.

"Go home, Charlotte."

She heaved in a deep breath and raised her shaking hands, balling them into tight fists and sighing before she turned away, her arms falling back to her sides.

"Just go home."

My heart sank. "Harley, I—"

"I've issued a search warrant for Karl's apartment, phone records, the whole nine yards. It's with the judge now and as soon as Hutch and Rhodes are finished with Karl, he's going in lockup, and then I'll be assisting the detectives with the search. I haven't fully decided what I'm going to do with you just yet, but for now, you're suspended."

"Suspended?" I repeated in disbelief, rising to my feet with tears shimmering in my eyes. "For how long?"

"Until I decide I'm done being pissed off with you," was her heated, soul-crushing retort.

I knuckled under my eyes and sucked in a painful breath. I felt sick. My heart hurt so fucking much it was all I could do not to fall to my knees and scream—beg at the top of my goddamn lungs for her to reconsider, but I knew it was pointless because she outright refused to spare me another glance.

"Charlotte," Peter's voice floated across the room when I left the office, hiding my sobs. "Char—hey, what's wrong?" He caught up to me while I waited for the elevator to open. "What the hell happened in there?"

I looked away, not in the mood to answer any of his questions, and just shook my head, cursing when Harley fled the captain's office and made way for the interrogation rooms. What I wanted—needed—was Phoenix, and yes, Spike too despite he was an impulsive asshole. I needed to be inside that room listening to what was being said. I needed to know what the fuck was really going on here so I could figure this shit out.

The elevator opened, and I wordlessly stepped inside with Peter flanking me, turning to him when the doors closed.

"She took me off the cases."

"Fuck, Char." Peter grasped me by the shoulder and pulled me close to him, holding on tight. "I'm sorry."

"I worked so hard for this, Peter. So fucking hard. And now it's gone."

"It's not gone," he said, pulling away as the doors opened. He matched step with me and held open the exit door until we were both out of the precinct and making the trek back to our cars. "I know losing these cases suck and all, but you still have your job."

I internally snorted, opting to remain calm despite my tears. After Harley's reaction, I wouldn't be returning to work anytime soon, at least not until these cases were closed.

And that… That was if—

"Seriously though," Peter's voice cut through my thoughts. "What happened in there? Since you're not working the cases anymore, then you should be able to—"

"Why the fuck do you care?" I stopped walking and whipped around to face him, my head cocked and wet eyes narrowed. "So you can gloat? Throw in my face how stupid I am and how I should've listened to you? Because I think we both know that ship has long sailed."

"No, Charlotte," Peter said with a sigh, "that's not—"

"You told me you were done with this," I reminded him, his words from the other night still fresh on my brain. "With me, Karl, all of it. So answer the damn question, Peter. Why do you want to know so damn bad?"

"I did say those things," he agreed, nodding as he frowned. "And I'm sorry. The shit with Karl…" He paused, taking a moment to swallow as he stared deeply into my eyes. "I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you like that, and I'm sorry. It's not Karl I care about, Char, it's you. It's always been you. I hate you're going through this. I hate you're hurting and yes, I'll admit that maybe I've been riding your ass a little too hard about pressing charges, but that's only because Karl has done nothing but escalate ever since you served him divorce papers, and I was worried you'd get hurt."

He paused again, drawing in a breath.

"I'm only asking because I can see that what ever the hell's going on has you struggling not to break down in a puddle. I may not be your lawyer anymore, but you're still my best friend, and I care about you. As you know, I have the entire day off to do what ever I want. I will be more than happy to spend it with you to talk, go out—whatever you want to do to keep your mind off things. Hell, if you want, you can call up your friend Blaire and the three of us can go out to dinner or get drinks at a bar in town."

I considered everything he'd said, even his offer, and despite wanting to say yes, I couldn't stop thinking about what was happening inside that interrogation room, or worse, what may possibly happen to Spike and Phoenix once the captain and chief discovered they were willing to conceal case evidence for not only the sake of my dignity and reputation, but my career. Unless she decided to personally confront them over the matter, there were zero doubts in my mind that Harley would keep her mouth shut. Spike and Phoenix were the only connections I had left in this case and…

FUCK.

I had to hurry and get back to the office before it was too late.

"That sounds great, Peter." I swiped the wetness glued to my cheeks away and gave him a smile that earned me an even bigger and brighter one, his eyes dancing with relief. "I have a few things I need to take care of first. Is that okay?"

He nodded, grinning ear to ear.