I had the best night of sleep in my entire life, which ended at five Monday morning when my phone dinged.

Reading the message I sighed.

Captain Getty: Need you to come straight into the station.

Studying Ariel’s body as she slept, I admired her smooth skin, a flawless canvas begging to be painted. I refused to wake her and add a little color to mar her perfect skin.

Normally, I clocked in via my radio and patrolled morning traffic before heading into the station. I didn’t normally get an angry text from Captain, though. Something in my head told me that the fucking DA was at it again.

Throwing on my uniform, I clipped my badge and gun on to my belt before heading downstairs. After scribbling a note for Ariel, I headed out to my bike.

As I pulled into the station there were several news trucks. “What now” seemed to be my new motto in life. The second I cut the engine, there was a reporter in my face. “Deputy Christakos, what do you have to say about the accusations concerning lack of ethics on the force?” she asked as she shoved her microphone closer.

If I hadn’t put my hand up to stop her, she probably would have hit me in the face with the stupid thing. I ignored the question and maneuvered around her. It was county policy for all media questions and answers to go through the sheriff and the media secretary, who would then appoint a spokesperson. She knew that. Fuck, all reporters knew that. It was the same for all departments. My morning went from lousy at having to leave a gorgeous woman in my bed to downright ludicrous when the reporter stuck out her foot to try to stop me. Restraint was an under-appreciated virtue, and I had to use every ounce of mine not to lash out at her as I headed toward the door.

“Sergeant Christakos, no comment on the allegations that you requested sexual favors from citizens in exchange for leniency in charges?”

What the fuck did she just ask? I turned to her, cameras flashed in my face, but the station door opening halted my reaction.

“Now, Christakos.” Captain Getty’s massive frame stood in the doorway.

“Captain. What disciplinary action can we expect against Sergeant Christakos?” the reporter asked, but Getty waved her off, refusing to answer.

“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on? And what did she mean about sexual favors?” Standing near the captain’s desk, I seized a paperweight and proceeded to try to smash the damn thing between my hands. I had to do something to alleviate some of this fucking stress.

“I’ll ask the questions,” said a woman in a business suit. “I’m Corporal Grace Wickham with internal affairs, and it seems that you have pissed some people off. I need to clarify some information. You are Deputy Kayson Michael Christakos, is that correct?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You have been with the Orange County Sheriff’s Department since . . .”

This was going to be a long day. One thing most people forget was that, as law enforcement, we had access to a lot of databases. And this woman was going to try to catch me in a lie. Any lie. Whatever it was, however small, a lie was a lie and would lead to instant termination.

“I was hired while still in the academy, just over ten years ago.” I had corrected. Even though I was hired while in the academy, my official start date was six months later when I graduated. Whatever her angle, I wanted to cover all bases.

“And you became a motorcycle deputy when?”

“Two years later.” I kept my answers to the point.

“But on your application, you wrote that you wanted to be a motors deputy. Why the wait?”

“You have to be with the department for two years before applying.” That was standard procedure, which she should have known. I had no clue where she was leading with this line of questioning.

“Impressive. Become a motorcycle deputy almost to the day that you are allowed to apply. You must have been the first,” she said.

This bitch was very condescending.

“I’m not current on that information, sorry.”

“And you’re up for the promotion to sergeant. Head of the motors squad. Also impressive.”

“Don’t be. We lost a great man.” I turned my head at the sight of someone escorting Piper into an adjacent office. Crap, had Brandon brought her into his bullshit?

“Eyes up here, Deputy,” Corporal Wickham said. “Let me explain what exactly is going on.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“In the last forty-eight hours, our office has received five complaints against you. All callers have requested to remain anonymous, so of course, we take that into account. Now, please understand that, on average, we receive about ten calls a day from people complaining about deputies. More often than not, it is after someone has received a ticket, or even out of spite from family members of inmates. To receive five complaints within two days, and all with the same accusations against the same deputy? Well, you understand, I’m sure.”

No, I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand a single damn thing. This was bullshit.

“Before you speak, let me finish,” Corporal Wickham continued. “Deputy, you have an impeccable record, and I admit five calls within two days after ten years with not one single blemish is suspicious. I still have to investigate, though. It is protocol. Unfortunately, this will also be on your record.”

“What the fuck. I haven’t done a damn thing. We have helmet cameras. You can see every interaction that I’ve made.” I was pissed. I was angry that this would be in my file, and even though I would be proved innocent, it would always show that there had been an investigation.

“We know that. Don’t think we haven’t already pulled the videos.”

“Am I done here?” I snapped.

“Sit down, Kayson,” Captain Getty ordered. He used my first name, which meant he was taking on a fatherly role and I was in for a lecture. “Let IA finish.”

Sure, I wanted to hear what else they were planning to do to ruin my career.

“The DA’s office has also filed a complaint against you.”

Fucking surprise, surprise. “That man is messed up. He is upset that I am dating his ex-girlfriend. And we have cause to believe he placed a listening device in her apartment. It’s in evidence now and still has to be processed and run through forensics.”

“Their complaints are a breach of ethics by law enforcement, behavior unbefitting for the line of duty, and fraternization with a subordinate. Until we can get to the bottom of this, take my advice and lie low. He is a powerful man and has set his sights on you. His office’s complaint has come to our attention at the same time as the five female complaints.”

“And you don’t see the connection?”

“They may be separate; they might all be tied together. But we will be looking into each complaint,” she said as she handed me several forms.

“One question. Did your office bother to ask these women when these events happened to make sure that I was on duty? Or even why they didn’t immediately report the incident? Most people don’t naturally think of calling internal affairs.”

“That’s two questions. Yes, we asked both. It seems that the events are all recent and that the women watch a lot of television, so they knew to get IA involved. We are having the recordings analyzed for voice modulation to see if it may be the same caller attempting to disguise her voice. We are also pulling the last six months of your calls.” Corporal Wickham explained. “We aren’t going to suspend you from duty, but I want you to review those forms. I will be in contact with you this week.”

She left the captain’s office, but I was seething. “Am I free to go?” I asked a bit sarcastically.

“You’re dismissed,” Captain Getty replied. “By the way. I find it convenient that the news media knew about those complaints before I did. Don’t you?”

“Very fucking convenient.”

I walked out of the conference room, Getty’s words rolling in my brain. How would the media hear about this, unless . . . unless dickhead had given them a heads up? Captain had already figured this out. At least he was on my side. I passed by the office where Piper sat, spun, and walked back into the captain’s office. “Are there complaints against Piper as well?”

“You know that I can’t answer that.” It was all the answer I needed to know there were.

Pulling out my phone as I headed to my bike I realized that I had missed several texts from Ariel and even a call, shit.

Ariel: Good morning.

Ariel: Everything okay?

Ariel: Something wrong?

Missed call

Immediately texting back.

Me: Sweet, sorry I couldn’t answer, been in a meeting. Brandon is up to something. Please stay at the house today and lock up. Will call in a few.

Each step, I replayed my interactions with Ariel over the last few weeks. I needed to be patient with her, she didn’t talk about being anti-relationship any longer, but she wasn’t ready to admit she wanted more. She was just starting to open up, and I needed to tighten down for her safety without scaring her off.

After pulling out of the parking lot and away from the melee of news trucks still clamoring for a story, I drove to the nearest restaurant to pick up some lunch and tried again to call Ariel, but her phone went straight to voice mail.