Castleton Police Department

  Saturday

  3:14 a.m.

  Sergeant Mills returns from the cafeteria carrying a metal tray on which two 6-inch turkey subs and a Caesar salad take up almost equal space. The few other officers in attendance are either shooting the breeze at the whiteboard, completing week old incident reports, or dozing at their desks. Sergeant Mills shakes his head at the latter. Rookies.

  Every shoulder mic within the room chirps almost simultaneously, causing the sergeant to nearly drop his tray of delectables. As if out of a nightmare, Mitch Turner enters the operations room at that exact moment. Sergeant Mills listens to the message being broadcast with a heavy heart. However, Mitch's mouth twists into a knowing grin.

  "All available units to Ninth and Escobar...Off the pier. Witness states a body has been recovered. Female. All available units respond."

  Sergeant Mills glances in the direction of the Police Chief's door just as Chief O' Leary wrenches it open. The Chief looks positively livid, having chosen to stay the night to work out some additional case details. Were it possible for him to have pulled the solid door from its hinges, Sergeant Mills is certain the Chief would have tried.

  "Why the fug are they announcing it over the radio? Goddamn it...These new kids don't know a damn thing about discretion. If someone is manipulating our calls with dispatch...The last thing we want them to know is that we've found the body. Fug!"

  "Caught you by surprise? Eh, Chief?" Mitch Turner says, motioning for his cameraman to get a closeup of the furious Police Chief. "I've known about the body for over twenty minutes. Even had time to come down here to the station before your boys could even get their asses in gear. Maybe you oughta retire, Chief?"

  "And maybe you oughta shut the fug up?!" Paul O'Leary roars, pointing a finger in Mitch's direction.

  "Not a chance, Chief," the smug reporter retorts. "Not to mention, I want to be here when my theory about the detective is proven correct. I have it on a reliable source. Detective Mackey...Isn't what he pretends to be."

  Chief O'Leary swivels and motions to Sergeant Mills.

  "Sergeant...If you would be so kind as to remove this...Fugging idiot from the building? If I touch him...He's gonna end up in a cell."

  "I don't think so Chief," Mitch says, going on the defense. "As a member of the press--."

  "As a member of the press...You have the right to shut the fug up like anyone else," Paul O'Leary roars. "I suggest you heed my warning. Get out. And stay out of here until me and my officers have had a chance to thoroughly investigate this matter. Anymore...Of your inconvenient interference, Mitch. And you're gonna be put under arrest for tampering and obstruction. Got it?"

  "What?" Mitch gasps in disbelief.

  "You heard me," Paul says, his jaw clenching.

  Mitch shifts his gaze between Chief O'Leary and Sergeant Mills. Deciding he'd better take the Chief's advice, Mitch waves to his cameraman.

  "We'll come back later. After the fine police have had a chance to actually do their jobs."

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  The last part of Mitch's statement is said with a sarcastic nod of his head. Sergeant Mills takes a menacing step forward. Chief O'Leary seethes in silent anger, cruel thoughts dancing around in the convoluted folds of his brain. Mitch backs toward the entryway, holding up his microphone like a white flag.

  "I'm going. We're going. Good luck, Chief."

  O'Leary's nostrils flare with his anger and he snatches his peaked cap from his head.

  "Officer Truman, Officer Jefferson...You're with me. I want to visit that scene...Personally," the Chief growls. "I'll not be swayed by hearsay. Not when one of my best officer's career is at stake. Not when I've got another officer cooling in the morgue. Someone get Mackey down here. Now!"

  "Yessir," an officer by the whiteboard answers in an official tone.

  Chief O'Leary, and officers Truman and Jefferson, practically storm from the operations room.

  -

  -

  Madison's head rests on James' bare chest, a slender hand placed on his right pec. She is pretending to be asleep, listening to the steady beat of her husband's heart. The detective is wide awake, one arm draped over his wife's shoulders. The fingers of the hand attached to that arm absently toys with the strap of Madison's nightgown.

  For the first time ever, Jamie Junior is asleep in their bedroom, his bassinet located to the left of the large bed. Mackey had insisted on it. If things manage to go from bad to worse, he wants his family close for as long as possible.

  Madison stops pretending to be asleep and raises her head. She studies James in the dim light of the room. He studies her as well.

  "James, I love you," Madison whispers. "And I'm scared. I almost feel like...I've brought this on you. This is the sort of luck I've always had. Oh gosh, James. You don't deserve this. I know you're not a cheater. I don't know what that stupid reporter is trying to prove. I hate him, James. I hate him for what he's trying to do to our family. We have a newborn baby. How can anyone be so cruel?"

  "Facts...Don't often make for sensational television, Maddie. Turner has always been somewhat of a news exhibitionist. He digs where other reporters wouldn't dare to tread. He's gotten used to finding dirt people would prefer stay hidden. He's applying the same methods in my case...Hoping he's right."

  James shifts on the bed, he wraps both arms around Madison's waist and stares deep into her eyes.

  "But he's wrong, Madison. He's wrong!"

  "I know, James. You don't have to convince me," Madison insists. "I love you."

  Mackey's cellphone rings as the last word of Madison's statement leaves her lips. Madison and James make eye contact, uncertainty etched on both of their faces.

  "Maybe...There's been some developments?" Mackey says in a soft whisper. "Maybe...This is good news."

  "I...I hope you're right, James," Madison says.

  James takes a moment to compose himself, removing his arms from around Madison. He scoops up his phone from the bedside table and presses SEND.

  "Mackey here."

  James listens to the voice on the other end of the line in complete silence. Madison watches as the expression on James' face goes from indifferent to mortified. Alarm bells ring in the back of the young mother's mind, her heartbeat increasing.

  "Right. Okay. I'll be right there. Thanks."

  James ends the call and meets Madison's gaze again.

  "Definitely not good news," James explains. "They found...What they think is the young woman's body. The woman, I told them about, who plummeted from the building. I'm expected back at the station. I love you, Maddie."

  "Don't you dare say it to me like that, James," Madison protests in a hoarse whisper. "Like you believe it's the last time. We're going to make it through this, James. Just like we made it through Aquarius' insanity. We're going to be fine."

  "I wish I had your faith, Maddie," James says, sitting up and sliding his lower body off the side of the bed. "The Chief already seems as if he's ready to believe the worst of me. You should've been there yesterday...In the operations room. You could've heard a pen drop. Without some serious evidence to back up my story..."

  Madison takes Detective Mackey's face between her hands, looking him straight in the eyes.

  "Stop it, James. The law is...Innocent until proven guilty. I know you're a man of integrity. So does Morris...And Sergeant Emerson. You told me so. And what about Dave and Octavia? They can vouch for you. There are plenty of people who won't allow you to get steamrolled, James. I know, I won't."