Owen sat between his boss and the head of Internal Affairs, watching his career go down the drain. He’d already been told to shut up or risk getting thrown out of the single most important meeting about his career.

“The FBI issued a congratulatory letter. They’re thanking us.” The Captain paced behind his desk.

“Detective King chose to participate in activities that do not reflect well on the badge.” The head of IA wouldn’t even look at Owen anymore.

“You’re—what?” The Captain stopped and stared at the other man. “Making an example of him for doing a good thing?”

“We are setting the standard for your department.”

“You’re putting a good detective down.”

The two men glared at each other.

Owen bit the inside of his mouth and dug his fingernails into his palms.

He knew they had dirty cops. Once the shit with Jaxon, Yuri Gabor, and the FBI went down, it was glaringly obvious that there were cops on the take. From the worst scum on the planet.

Those cops knew it.

Owen knew it.

And now, so did others on the force.

He had to wonder, was he sitting in the room with one of those dirty cops? Was his career on the line because he’d decided to wear the white hat and do something good, instead of follow the rules? How many others would lose their jobs?

“Captain, the ultimate decision about Detective King’s misconduct is up to you. I can’t fire him, but your choice will reflect on you. Think about that.” The IA suit tucked his notebook under his arm, got up and exited the office.

Owen stared at the floor, the war of right and wrong clashing between his ears.

He’d willingly done what he shouldn’t, in the name of saving an innocent woman law-enforcement had failed. Numerous times. That wasn’t on anyone but Owen.

His captain was one of the good guys. The really good ones. If he went to bat for Owen over this, it would paint a target on both their backs. Owen already had one on him because he knew there were dirty cops. If the captain pressed for an investigation, he’d become next on the list.

“I can’t let you put your job on the line for me.” Owen lifted his gaze. “You’re going to be chief someday, if this doesn’t derail you.”

“Owen—”

“Don’t tell me it’s the right thing to do, or you’d do it because I’m good at my job, or any of it.” He leaned forward. “Look, we both know someone is covering their ass here. This is politics. It’s playing the system. Yes, I broke the rules. I am in direct violation of the code of conduct. But, if you go forward with firing me, you cover your ass. You can find out who the bad cops are.”

“I can’t let you fall on this sword, Owen. You’re too good.”

“You’ll find someone else. You know I’m right.”

“I don’t have to like it.”

“That’s what makes you a great captain. It’s what’ll make you a good chief.”

“Fine.” The captain grimaced. “Don’t do anything for a while. I’m going to try my best to get you the whole severance package, and a copy of the FBI letter. You have to promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“You’ll find another department, somewhere that will have you. You’re too good of a detective to quit.”

Owen wasn’t so sure about that, but he wasn’t in a position to argue with his captain.

“It’s a deal.” He stood and shook his captain’s hand. “You have my shield and my gun. I guess...there’s nothing left but to clean out my desk.”

“Actually...”

“Right.” Owen sighed. If this was the route they were going, he couldn’t do that. “Can Wu and Morgan at least walk me out?”

If he was escorted out of the station with his friends, most people would assume they were going out for lunch, not that he was being let go. That would take days still, maybe weeks, but there was no use in denying that the gig was up.

Owen was no longer a detective.

He wasn’t anything.

His gaze zeroed in on the captain’s desk, following the wood grain.

He’d always known he wanted to be a cop. He’d taken college courses while in high school, cramming in all of his classes and graduating in half the time, all so he could get into the police academy, ready to work his way up. Because he wanted to get on patrol so he could clock the necessary number of years to move up to being a detective. He’d had a plan for his life, and...now what?

“I’m sorry, Owen. I’ll go get Wu and Morgan.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

Inside, he was numb. He’d known there would be consequences, but he hadn’t truly thought them through. What it meant for his career. All he’d wanted to do was the right thing.

And now he had nothing. Nothing at all.

He could pick up and start again somewhere else, but this would follow him. It would be a black mark on his career, potential employers would turn him down, others that wouldn’t entertain the idea of hiring him.

That didn’t even take into consideration that he’d be leaving behind the life he’d created for himself here. For the first time, his friends weren’t just cops. He’d become part of a group that reminded him there was more to life than the badge, but that shield defined who he was. Without it, who was he? What did he do?

Owen was nothing.

He had nothing.

It wasn’t fair. The suspension, yeah. He agreed with that. But firing him over misconduct that resulted in saving lives and a FBI commendation? Someone was covering their ass at the expense of honest cops.

Internal Affairs?

Someone higher up?

If Owen found out...

He curled his hands into fists.

The office door opened and the captain stepped in.

“They’re ready for you,” he said.

Owen gathered the growing rage and shoved it down deep. Acting on his emotions would only further the case. He would not do anything which might add fuel to the fire.

He paused at the door, staring into the eyes of the man who’d welcomed him to homicide.

“I’m not going to fight you firing me. It’s the right thing for you to do. But, I’m going to find out who is covering their ass. Someone is trying to hide their illegal activities and they hope this shuts me up. It won’t.”

“I’ve got this. You figure out what your next move is.” The captain slapped Owen on the shoulder, but his eyes were sad.

Owen turned to the two patrol officers he’d gone through the academy with. Owen had been best man at Morgan’s first wedding. Wu had helped Owen refinish the floors in his house. These were people he’d known for a third of his life. And now they likely wouldn’t see each other again.

“Come on, guys. Let’s get this charade over with, shall we?” Owen led the way through the building, past familiar faces, walking the gauntlet of memories.

He’d lost his lunch in that trash can after his first truly horrific case.

He’d sat next to victims’ families on that bench.

That was the spot Blake had pegged him with a pie for charity.

Over there, he’d shaved his head with six other officers, in a show of support for one of their own who’d been diagnosed with cancer.

This building contained his life. Who he’d been. Without it, he wasn’t sure what came next. Who he was. What he would do.

Wu and Morgan didn’t try to cheer him up or broker false words of peace. They let him be, which Owen appreciated.

He pushed the double glass doors open and stopped short.

Blake leaned against the top of the rail, hands in his pockets.

“Hey, Owen,” Blake said.

“Owen?” Morgan slapped him on the shoulder and then held out his hand. “It’s been an honor, man.”

“Thanks.” Owen’s throat was oddly tight.

Wu didn’t say anything. He merely nodded, his expression stony.

Owen had no idea what they knew, and it wasn’t his place to tell them. If those guys knew there were dirty cops on the force, there’d be hell to pay. No one won when the good guys went after each other instead of the bad guys.

He’d have to take care of this one on his own.

Wu and Morgan left Owen standing there on the front steps to the building they’d all reported to for years.

He almost didn’t want to move. As though being here would postpone the inevitable.

Owen wasn’t a cop anymore. He was nothing.

He stared at the gray stone that made up the stairs.

“You’re lost right now.” Blake’s shadow fell across the spot Owen was staring at, his voice pitched low. “You’re wondering how you’ll go on, what you’ll do with yourself. In a little bit, you’re going to get pissed. Angry enough you’ll likely do something you will regret, if you hang around here long enough.”

“What are you doing here, Blake? Come to rub it in?”

“No. Captain thought I might, I don’t know, help you put things into perspective. Like I said, there is a life after the badge.”

“Not for me there isn’t.”

“Why don’t you tell me about it on the drive over to Trinity?”

“That’s the last place I need to be.” All the people, the questions, and not to mention the temptation to drink himself stupid.

Owen needed to...do something. Be useful.

“If you need a ride, I’ll drop you off.” Owen pulled his keys out and headed for his car.

Except the key to the Charger wasn’t on the ring anymore. He’d given that to the Captain already.

He was stranded.

“Where you want to go?” Blake asked, the jingle of his keys sharp.

Quinn’s neighbor had remarked about the brush in their yard, encroaching on the property line. That was at least something useful he could do.

“I guess I need to go home and get my own damn car.” The one he barely drove because he was always working.

“Come on.”

Neither spoke on their way to Blake’s ride. It wasn’t the beat-up, old sedan he’d bought following his wreck six months ago. Where the hell was Blake getting the money for new cars?

Owen dropped into the passenger seat.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Blake glanced at him.

“What?”

“Me driving. You always drove.”

Owen grunted, but otherwise didn’t respond.

This whole day was surreal.

Getting fired.

Blake showing up, much less driving and talking to Owen.

What next?

“Mother fucker,” Blake stomped on the brakes as a car zipped by.

“They’re looking for a ticket to the court house.”

“Did you know that a motorist will curse an average of thirty-two thousand times in their life while driving?”

Owen snorted.

“Where do you get this shit?” he asked.

“Just making conversation. That number seems a little low to me, don’t you think?” Blake merged with traffic, aiming for Owen’s house.

“Captain call you yesterday so you’d know to be here today?” Owen stared out of the window as tiny droplets of water splattered the windows.

“No, when he called I was already here,” Blake said softly. “Sally in records has been keeping me updated. I know you. I know what went on. I just...figured you might need a friend close by today. I hate being right sometimes.”

They rode for a few blocks, nothing but the patter of rain to break up the silence.

“You have options, Owen. Life doesn’t end when you leave the force. Besides, I’m not certain they’ll really let you go.”

“They will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because there’s at least one person, probably more, who wants to shut me up.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’ll find out.”

The only real evidence Owen would have was Jaxon’s eye witness account. As soon as Yuri was dead, someone had torched the Swan Palace, destroying all of the evidence inside. Jaxon could at least point Owen in the right direction to start looking.

“My advice, not that you’re asking for it? Let it go.” Blake pulled into the drive of Owen’s small bungalow and shifted into park. “After my accident...”

Owen nearly held his breath. Blake didn’t talk about himself, what he’d gone through, any of it. At least not to Owen.

“I became obsessed with the guy who hit me. I researched him while I was still in the hospital, made a fake Facebook profile to friend him and keep tabs on what he was doing. Later, the first thing I did when they fitted me with a prosthetic, I followed him. When I could drive, I sat outside his house, watching him with his family. Going on like they were normal. Like he hadn’t ruined my life.”

Owen held his breath.

He hadn’t known.

“Officially, my car accident was because I lost control in the rain. The officers on site blamed it on my prosthetic, but I didn’t lose control. I was driving by where the guy works, didn’t pay attention, and crashed into that eighteen wheeler. What if... What if it hadn’t been a truck? What if it’d been a car with a mom and her kids? What if it was some other innocent person? I realized as they were cutting me out of that tin can, that my obsession could ruin more than just my life.”

Blake turned his head, meeting Owen’s stare.

“Let it go, Owen.”

“I had no idea...”

“Yeah. I’ve been a special kind of fucked up, but I’m better now. At least, I’ve got a plan that doesn’t revolve around watching someone go to AA meetings and then kiss his kids goodnight.”

“This is different, Blake—”

“No, it’s not. Bad shit happened to you. That sucks, but you have to get over it.”

Owen pressed his lips together. Blake could project his recent experiences on Owen all he wanted to, but it didn’t make their situations any more similar.

Blake had suffered from a freak accident. He’d had part of his body cut off.

Owen got caught between a rock and a hard place when it came to criminal cops covering their asses.

Someone had seen justice for what happened to Blake.

Owen wasn’t going to get that.

That was the difference between them. Blake got to move on. He got closure. Healing. Owen...didn’t.

“I’ll work on it,” Owen said.

“Awesome. What are we doing, today?” Blake popped his seatbelt.

“We?” Owen frowned and followed suit.

“I’ve been a shitty friend, but you need someone in your corner. I’m going to be here for you, man.”

Owen got out without responding to that.

He and Blake couldn’t simply go back to being best friends. Not if Blake was going to stop Owen from finding out the truth behind why he was fired, who was dirty. But if he was going to have a shadow, he might as well put him to use. Besides, brush was easier to pull up when the ground was damp, and Owen thought better when he was doing something.

Quinn eyed the plastic crate and briefly considered locking herself inside of it. But the material wasn’t thick enough to block out Anna Beth and Molly screaming at each other.

“Why does she get the bamboo display, and I don’t?” Molly demanded.

“I requisitioned it first.” Anna Beth stomped her foot.

“Girls...” Karen held up her hands but the two women were ignoring her.

Quinn had a bad feeling.

Everyone else in their weekly meeting had something else to look at. Quinn’s phone was dead, and it was up to her to take notes, anyway. She’d saved the display request for last, hoping she could push it off another week.

She hadn’t.

“Quinn should have just approved it. First come, first serve.” Anna Beth crossed her arms over her chest and stared down her nose at Molly.

“That’s not fair. Why should you get the nice display? You aren’t even showing anything new. I am.” Molly jabbed her finger at herself.

“Ladies—please?” Karen pushed to her feet, cane in hand. “Quinn will handle it.”

Molly’s gaze cut toward Quinn.

Shit.

How would they pay for another display? It was too late. And if Molly got the new, shiny toy, the old display wouldn’t be good enough for Anna Beth.

“The rest of you are dismissed.” Karen limped toward the door.

The other employees scurried away, leaving Quinn caught between the two women.

Molly had a list of ideas, and Anna Beth had a rebuttal for each.

Quinn’s eyes began to lose focus and her head throbbed.

The reality was that they wouldn’t get anything figured out today, not when both were armored up for verbal combat.

“We can pick a time to discuss this later. Why don’t you both firm up your ideas and shoot me an email? Let me know when you’re both free.” Quinn picked up her notebook and bolted for the door.

She didn’t have it in her to make magic happen today. She was just one girl, with only so many resources. And bathrooms to clean. What the hell was up there?

“Quinn!”

“Pearl?” She skidded to a stop, blinking at Pearl and Karen facing off in the entry to the HI-Co offices.

“I thought I’d come take you to lunch today,” Pearl said in a sweet-as-pie voice while staring daggers at Karen.

She nearly wept with relief. God, she was so desperate for a moment away.

“I can’t spare Quinn right now.” Karen placed both hands on her cane and stared coolly back at Pearl.

“Everyone’s entitled to a break, Karen. Don’t you know your own staffing rules?” Pearl took Quinn by the arm. “Come on and help an old lady out to her car.”

Quinn was going to pay for this, but at least she’d have a full stomach. Pearl always did take her to the nicest places.

“I had no idea you were coming by today.” Quinn held the front door for her.

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood.”

Hansel Garris flipped through the diner’s breakfast menu. He didn’t need to look at it. He knew it by heart but every so often, he indulged in this one act. Show up, flip through the menu from front to back, then order a number three with bacon, and a number six with a side of egg.

He wouldn’t touch the number three. It would sit across from him, grow cold, the grease would congeal while he ate his meal.

Then he’d tip the waitress generously, and leave.

It wasn’t the same without his brother, but then again, it never would be.

A man slid into the booth across from him, disrupting the routine.

“Thought I’d find you here.” The blond man grinned at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hansel growled the words.

“Found this. Thought of you.”

He tossed a couple folded pieces of paper at him.

Hansel spread the pages out.

The picture of Detective Owen King stared back at him.

The rest of the pages were an article. Words were highlighted, creating another message already jotted down on a piece of scratch paper.

“That’s the guy who shot and killed your brother, ain’t it?”

Hansel’s vision hazed.

Owen King.

That man had forced Hansel to flee without paying his respects to his brother. The job they’d been hired for went sideways. The cop wound up a step ahead of them, and Hansel’s brother had died.

“I just figured, if you were going to kill this guy anyway, might as well get paid for it, am I right?”

“Shut. Up.” Hansel glared at the other man. “Leave. Do not come back here. Ever.”

“All right. Fine. Whatever. I get a finder’s fee though, man. You owe me.”

Hansel stared at the page, the message.

The job wasn’t about Owen King, but it didn’t mean the man couldn’t at least be a bonus. After all, there was such a thing as collateral damage.

It appeared he needed a new umbrella. He was going to Seattle.