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When she was done, Garcia held out his hand. “I have to turn this over to Internal Affairs.”
She turned over her gun and her badge. She looked at her boss, maybe wanting some reassurance, some hope. She saw nothing but disappointment.
XV.
Skye was already three sheets to the wind.
Her dad watched her, clearly unhappy with her drunkenness, but he didn’t cut her off.
“It’s Thursday night! I have nowhere to be tomorrow. Let’s start pouring the good stuff.” She pointed to the bottle of reposado tequila on the top shelf.
Silently, he took it down and poured her a shot.
She tapped the bar for him to leave the bottle within reach. He did.
Brian was drinking with her, but he wasn’t drunk yet.
“Skye, I think they’ll just slap you, not fire you.”
“I’m toast,” she said. She’d spent all day Monday talking to Internal Affairs. She was officially suspended pending an investigation. She was going to be fired. She knew it. They were just dragging it out, but that was fine, right? She deserved to suffer. “I told you what we did. So out of bounds. So illegal. So wrong.”
“Skye—”
“I don’t care,” she said, much too loudly. “Trent Calderon is a fucking rapist and killer, and he attacked a cop, but hell, we can’t compel him to give his DNA! No, that would be too easy. We have to wait until he screws up. Gets caught on tape! Well, guess what? He hasn’t!”
“The crime scene techs were all over Maggie’s place. They’re going through everything. They’ll find something,” Brian said.
She snorted. “He’s connected. He works for the fucking governor. Sleeping with the governor’s daughter. He’s Teflon. Nothing is going to stick, and even if we find something? A thread? A hair? A drop of blood? He’ll find a way to get out of it. Scumbags like him always do.”
She poured herself another shot and downed it. Motioned with the bottle to Brian, and he just shook his head.
“Get out!”
Her father came out from around the bar, pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out right now.”
Skye and Brian turned in unison and saw Trent Calderon and Natalie Brown standing inside the doorway. Natalie looked nervous and uneasy; Calderon had a warm, satisfied smile on his face. He held Natalie’s hand and patted it. “It’s okay, Nat,” he said.
“You’re not welcome here,” Nick said. He was standing between Calderon and Skye.
Skye got off her stool, wobbled a bit, unsteady on her feet. Yeah, she was drunk. “You bastard.”
Brian held her back.
Calderon held up his hand, palm out. No cuts on them, no injuries to his face. He’d attacked Maggie while she slept, used a blunt object to beat her. Stabbed her with a knife he’d found in her kitchen. He could have killed her. He wanted to kill her.
“I didn’t know you’d be here. We’ll leave.”
“Like hell you didn’t,” Skye said.
Natalie bristled. “Let’s go. She’s unhinged.”
“You’re unhinged,” Skye shot back. “You’re screwing a rapist and a killer.”
Natalie blanched but stood her ground.
Calderon scowled. “That’s enough. I didn’t know you’d be in this bar. We’ll go someplace else.” He looked around. Every cop in the room was staring at him. He didn’t flinch. “I will be suing you for slander if I read my name in the newspaper connected to these horrific crimes.”
Skye lurched, and Nick and Brian both had to hold her back. Natalie practically pulled Calderon out the door. He looked back once, right at Skye, and smirked.
