Chapter 3

I said, "I didn't make an enemy out of him. I just didn't make an exception for him."

"You—" Captain Garrett was so angry that he couldn't finish his sentence. He waved me off. "Go write up an incident report. And stay off the internet for the next few days. No interviews."

I went back to the office and opened my computer. The story was still blowing up, and the comment sections had picked up tens of thousands more posts.

Someone had dug up my badge number. Someone else was threatening to show up at the precinct with protest signs. And another commenter was claiming I'd "definitely been paid off by Kyle Warren".

Doug walked over with his mug and glanced at me. He looked like he wanted to say something and thought better of it, but he said it anyway.

"Quinn, just hear me out on this. Swallow your pride and apologize. You're still young. Don't throw your whole career away over this."

Kevin chimed in from the side. "For real, Quinn. Why pick a fight you don't need to have? Chief Holt said as long as you send the dispatch now, he'll let the whole thing go. No hard feelings."

I looked up at Kevin. "You think this is about that?"

The look in my eyes startled him, and he shrank back a little. "That's not what I meant."

I didn't say anything else. My fingers found the brown envelope tucked in the very back of my desk drawer.

Inside was a single yellowed sheet of paper, so brittle that it was nearly falling apart. The edges had been taped and retaped multiple times.

On it was a dispatch log from 32 years ago, written in Frank's own messy ballpoint handwriting.

"Request denied."

The time wasn't right. I put the envelope back and closed the drawer.

On the third day, a state news station sent a reporter from their public interest segment. They were going live.

Captain Garrett couldn't stop it, and neither could the department brass. The story had burned too far and too fast to contain.

"Officer Avery! What's your response to people calling you cold-blooded?"

"Officer Avery! Are you connected to Kyle Warren?"

"Officer Avery! Why did you refuse to send officers?"

I didn't answer a single question. They had me cornered at the end of the hallway, microphones thrust toward me like bayonets.

Captain Garrett stepped in front of me. "Back up, everyone, back up! Officer Avery is not taking questions!"

But nobody moved.

A female reporter's voice cut through from the back of the crowd, sharp and piercing. "Officer Avery, answer this directly. Did you deliberately delay the dispatch because of a personal grudge against former Chief Holt?"

That question landed exactly where it was meant to. The live stream had already crossed a million viewers, and the chat was a wall of noise.

"Heartless animal!"

"Fire her! Revoke her badge!"

"Is she working with the kidnapper?"

"Doxx her! Destroy her!"

I stood in front of the camera, and my expression didn't change. "I will handle this according to regulations."

That was all I said. Then I pushed through the crowd, walked into the duty room, and shut the door.

On the other side, there was nothing but shouting. On my side, I sat in a chair, pulled the yellowed dispatch log out of its envelope, and stared at it for a long time.

"Just a little longer," I told myself.

Another day passed. Frank gave an interview to one of the media outlets and sighed for the camera. "Quinn's young; she doesn't understand how things work. But what can I do?

"I'm retired now. Nobody listens to me anymore."

He played the role of a hurt old man perfectly. The comment sections erupted all over again.

"Bullying a retired public servant? She's shameless!"

"She should be fired!"

"We stand with Chief Holt!"

The pressure on the department kept building. Internal Affairs brought me in for a talk, and then the disciplinary board showed up too. Everyone asked me the same question. "What exactly is your issue with Frank Holt?"

"There's no issue," I said.

But they didn't believe me.

Captain Garrett pulled me aside afterward. "Quinn, be straight with me. Do you know Denise? Or her daughter's ex-husband?"

"No."

"Then why the hell are you dying on this hill? Would it kill you to send one patrol car?"

I looked Captain Garrett in the eye. "If I make an exception for Denise today, tomorrow there'll be someone else at my desk asking why they don't get the same treatment. Captain, rules aren't supposed to bend depending on who's asking."

That shut him up for a second. Finally he sighed. "Fine. If you want to be stubborn, be stubborn. But you'd better be able to take what's coming."

I could take it. After all, I'd waited 32 years. A few more days were nothing.