Eight

Ava

Back at the station, I found it hard to focus with thoughts of my lunch date swirling around in my mind. He’d kissed me. And I liked it. I couldn’t remember the last time a man kissed me and I actually enjoyed it.

“We brought you a sandwich, Ava,” Officer Rollins said, pulling me from my fantasy and back into the real world. “Hope you like turkey and swiss?”

I turned to face him and quickly tried to wipe any lingering googly-eyed expression off my face. “Oh, thank you, Rollins,” I said. “Appreciate that.”

I didn’t want to be rude and tell him I’d already had lunch, so I took the sandwich and placed it on my desk like I was going to tear into it any moment. He stuck around.

“So, any news on the cop killing? Any leads?”

I cringed. “We don’t know they’re dead yet, Rollins.”

“Please, call me Joel,” he said with a sheepish grin.

I didn’t take to calling officers by their first name. I didn’t think it sent the right message and was a bit unprofessional. But the fact that he already called me by mine, well, I didn’t want to seem like I had a stick up my ass or was being purposely aloof.

“Okay then, Joel, we don’t know that they’re dead yet,” I said. “And no, we don’t have any new information.”

“What a shame about those two,” he said. He leaned against the wall and took a drink from his Starbucks coffee cup. “Good guys. I hope we find out who did this. Think it could be the Russians?”

“Not really, no,” I said. “The Russians aren’t usually so messy. And right in front of their warehouse? They know better than that.”

“The Irish then?” he pressed.

As soon as he said it, my heart sank. I’d had an idea that yes, it could be the Irish. I knew there were some dealings between the Irish and the Russians, but the Irish were just as meticulous as the Russians were. That was why I was stumped. The mess at the crime scene didn’t fit the profile of either group, casting some shred of doubt about both in my mind.

“Honestly, Officer–err, I mean Joel–I can’t say anything definitively until we get the lab results back or get a lead of some sort. But I’m sure the fine men and women in homicide are handling it okay.”

“Don’t you ever wish you could be out there with them?”

“Not really,” I said. “I’ve been to my fair share of murder scenes. Definitely enough to know that I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Joel took this as an invitation to take up the seat across from me.

“So tell me, Ava, why did you choose Organized Crime?” he asked. “And why specialize in the Irish of all the different mobs out there? I mean, they’re really not that active anymore.”

In my own mind, I sighed and rolled my eyes. I really had no desire to get into it with someone I hardly knew. Joel Rollins seemed like a nice enough guy and a good cop. But my story and my reasons for following the career path I was on were far too personal to be sharing with him.

“It’s a long story, Joel, and not one I care to talk about honestly,” I said. “It’s too personal and too painful for me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, and I thought that might be the end of it. At least, I hoped it would be. He watched me, carefully, as if he expected me to fill the silence by telling him everything I’d just said I had no desire to talk about if he only stayed quiet long enough.

“It has to do with your dad, doesn’t it?” he finally asked.

I literally jumped back as if I’d been smacked across the face. “Excuse me?”

“I know about your father, Ava,” he said. “The entire precinct does. The story about him has been going around, but I wasn’t sure if I believed it.”

When he said that, I felt exposed and completely raw. Not to mention, more than a little upset and resentful at the intrusion on my personal life. I just wanted to be left alone, but Joel Rollins stayed put, drinking from his cup and watching me like I was a suspect. It was obvious that my glare and the firm set of my jaw wasn’t conveying my irritation clearly enough to Joel. Stupid schmuck.

“What do you know about my father?” I asked, my voice low and harsh.

“Not much,” Rollins admitted. “Just that he was an Irish merchant and police informant. I can put two-and-two together pretty easily.”

The anger surged up within me like a wave. “Please leave me alone, Joel.”

His face contorted as he jerked back, stunned. He looked like I’d hurt his feelings by bringing up his personal history and baring it all for the world to see when it was, in fact, the other way around. And I wasn’t the type of woman to apologize when someone else walked all over me or violated my privacy. So, if he was waiting for an apology from me, he was going to have to wait an awfully long time.

“I didn’t mean–”

“Doesn’t matter what you meant, Officer Rollins,” I snapped. “I said I didn’t want to talk about it, and you insisted on pressing me anyway. So, I would really appreciate it if you left me alone now. I don’t want to be having this conversation anymore.”

He started to say something else, but apparently thought better of it. Instead, he stood up and walked toward the door quietly, the expression on his face saying I’d wronged him. I had no doubt that when he got back to his boys, I would be the bitch from hell in all of this.

“I’m sorry, Ava,” he tried to explain. “I know I put my foot in my mouth sometimes. It’s one of my bad habits, I know. I just really want to get to know you better.”

I gritted my teeth and held onto my desk for dear life in order to not punch something–or someone.

“This is not the way you do that, Joel,” I said. “You don’t do it by forcing someone to talk about something so personal and painful–especially after they’ve told you they don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry, Ava,” he repeated again before leaving.

Never once did I tell him it was okay and he was forgiven. Instead, I waited until the door closed behind him and broke down in sobs. Talking about my father was never easy, but being forced to open up about it to someone I hardly knew was worse. It felt like he’d violated me, and knowing that the entire police force knew about my father–that they had gossiped about it behind my back–hurt in a way I’d never experienced before.

Breathe, Ava. Counting to ten, I managed to relax. There was no way I was going to let this get to me. I’d been through far worse and survived. I’d get through this, as well. This was nothing. They were nothing.