LineofDuty (4 page)

Tonight’s fucking was tame, impersonal and quite frankly,
her last.

She dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers laid out in the
closet. In short order she filled her suitcase with the essentials, enough
basic items to mix and match for work for two weeks, a few vibrators since she
wouldn’t have a cock for a while, toiletries and what she couldn’t live
without. The rest she’d have to take a chance on losing.

Jake had always told her he didn’t believe in divorce. It
was one of those arguments they couldn’t resolve, so she’d let it go. Sometimes
things didn’t work out and you had to cut your losses. For her, this was it.
And Jake wasn’t going to like it but then again, this was about her. Not him.

She rolled her luggage out of the bedroom, pausing in the
doorway to make sure she’d blown all the candles out. A wealth of memories
stared back at her. Some happy, others sad. But it was time to say goodbye. She
flipped the lights off and took her things to the front of the house.

Nicole piled her luggage in the foyer, studiously not
looking down the dark hall toward the rooms she never ventured into. At least
not in months. Momentarily she considered just leaving, no backward glance. She
sucked down a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. She couldn’t
run away without one final look.

The hall seemed to stretch out longer than it really was.
Her hands began to shake as she came to the first door on the left and turned
to peek into the room. A nightlight provided enough illumination for her to
make out the furniture, but she didn’t need light. She’d painted the room with
Jake. They’d laughed and cursed, getting pink paint on the carpet.

Almost everything in the room, to an item, was pink or
white. A little girl’s paradise. The pink cradle had a canopy of gauzy white
and pink ribbons hanging over it. Fanciful toys sat on shelves, just waiting to
be played with. Wooden letters Jake had carved using some fancy tool in his
workshop spelled out their little girl’s name—Willow.

Jake fought her on the name, but Nicole had won out. She’d
wanted that little girl so much. There would have been a closet of pretty
dresses and sparkling bows. Nicole’s luck, Willow would have turned out a
tomboy and her daddy would have her decked out in camo with a cap gun so he
could teach her to hunt like he had growing up. Nicole dreaded it, but if her
baby girl had wanted to be like Daddy, she’d have figured out a way to add a
little sparkle somehow.

Nicole wrapped her arms around herself and drew in another
shuddering breath. She’d shed so many tears in this room, it was a wonder she
couldn’t taste salt in the air. It was time to put all this behind her, but
Willow, her darling baby, would always reside in her heart.

Nicole took a little stuffed doll from a shelf next to the
door and hugged it. She’d made it with Jake’s mother guiding her every step of
the way. It was hideous, the eyes were mismatched and uneven. The dress didn’t
even fit and the skirt was higher on one side than the other, but she
’
d
made it. Maybe someday there would be another little girl to love it. Nicole
wasn’t shutting the door on her future.

With a final glance at boxes of diapers that had never been
opened, Nicole closed the door, returned to her luggage and tucked the doll in
her purse.

The last thing she did was pull a set of folded papers from
her work tote and leave them on the kitchen table. Chances were Jake wouldn’t
find them until sometime tomorrow. She didn’t know if her nerves of steel would
hold, but for now, she left them on the table without a backward glance.

She loaded up her convertible with the matching luggage set,
a few extra bags and her doll, and backed out of the drive for what felt like
the last time. In reality, she knew she’d be back, maybe to pick up belongings
or to sort out the divorce, but this was goodbye.

Nicole kept the top down as she drove through Metro City,
the evening breeze whipping her hair out behind her. The best thing was it
dried her tears almost as soon as they fell, which was fine by her. She was
tired of crying, tired of the hurting, tired of it all.

* * * * *

Jake pulled on a t-shirt and wiped the grit from his eyes.
The meth house had burned for hours, destroying all the evidence, but there
were stacks of dirt on Jose Garza. He didn’t doubt the dealer was about to face
a very lengthy prison visit. Jake couldn’t help but feel a sense of
satisfaction. He’d chased Jose and his partners years before, but caught only
one, Diego Cruz.

The charges against Diego were minor, possession of
narcotics with intent to sell. Jake had never found hard evidence to link Diego
to the murders he was suspected of committing. They rarely found the bodies,
and what had been found was so mangled and the evidence so contaminated it was
always beyond usable. Diego’s possession sentencing hadn’t been anywhere near
as heavy as what Jake had hoped for, but at least Diego was off the streets.

Around Jake, the other guys were packing up, heading home
after a long day and an even longer night. There weren’t that many hours before
Jake needed to be back at the station, but he couldn’t wait to spend a little
time at home. For the first time in months he didn’t even consider rounding up
a few of the others for a drink or something to eat. He just wanted to see
Nicole.

“See you in a few hours.” Cole slapped him on the shoulder
as he stood from putting his boots back on.

“What? No pancakes?” Aaron leaned around the row of lockers,
water droplets racing down his cheeks.

“Not tonight, man,” Jake replied. He closed his locker and
fastened the lock in place.

“Oh come on, I’m starving.” Aaron slung a shirt over his
shoulder.

“Go home. Cuddle up to your fiancée.” Cole grabbed his
duffle and hefted it over his shoulder. “See you.”

“Yeah. Later.” Aaron’s face twisted as if he’d smelled
something rancid, but considering the fragrant nature of the locker room, it
was anyone’s guess what the other man was thinking.

“I bet Becca would go get something to eat,” Jake offered.

Becca was one of the three women on SWAT, and the only one
Jake thought had any business being with them. She might as well be one of the
guys. It wasn’t easy for women to be part of the team, but she’d found her
place and now they were all stuck with each other.

“Nah, I guess I’ll go home.” Aaron pushed off the lockers
and ambled back across the room.

“Suit yourself.” Jake gathered the rest of his equipment and
uniform in his duffle bag and hoisted it on his shoulder.

He left the locker room, whistling as he went. The sound
echoed off the metal lockers and concrete floors.

Things were starting to look up, just like he’d always told
himself. Enough time, plenty of space and life would settle back into normal
once more. They’d heal. Get better.

During the drive home, he kept the windows down, feeling the
fresh breeze against his face. The trip took only a little over twenty minutes
in the dead of night. During the day it could take upwards of an hour to make
the journey. All the houses in his subdivision were dark, families tucked away
in bed for the night. At the end of the street the porch light was on, like old
times.

Jake didn’t bother with the garage. The noise might wake
Nicole, so he parked in the drive behind his bike and let himself in the front
door.

The scent of the candles had long since expired, but he
remembered it. If he weren’t bone weary, he’d consider waking her up for round
two. Instead, he just wanted to slip in next to her and be with his wife.

He dropped the duffle in the washroom off the kitchen before
tiptoeing into the bedroom. As soon as he crossed the threshold the hair on the
back of his neck rose. Something wasn’t right. He tilted his head to the side
and listened for the steady sound of Nicole’s breathing, but silence met him.

“Nicole?” he whispered, padding toward her side of the bed.

He reached inside the closet and flipped on the light.

The bed was neatly made though the pillows were scattered.
He had a vague memory of knocking them off during their lovemaking.

“Nicole?” he said louder, wheeling and striding back into
the living room, turning on lights as he went.

Everything was perfectly in place. The afghans folded across
the back of the sofa, decorative pillows situated in an artistic, messy manner
only Nicole could master.

He strode down the hall, past the nursery and spare rooms.
Nothing out of place. That left the garage. He strode through the kitchen and
pulled open the door, flipping the switch.

Nicole’s convertible was gone.

Where would she be at almost three a.m.?

Jake turned and stood in the kitchen. Her purse was gone,
which made sense if she’d driven anywhere.

“Fuck it.” He pulled out his cell phone and pressed her
speed dial.

The line rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And rang.

“Mm, hello?” a sleepy voice said on the other end of the
call.

“Where are you?” Why wasn’t she home waiting for him?

“Jake? What time is it? God, it’s three in the frickin’
morning.” She groaned and he could hear the sound of sheets rustling.

“Where are you?” he demanded. She was supposed to be there
when he got home.

For a moment she didn’t respond. The silence stretched taut.
“Um, did you look at the papers I left you on the table?”

“Papers? Where?” What was she talking about?

“Kitchen table.”

He spied the creased pages on the mahogany table and crossed
to smooth them out.

His gaze skipped over the first few words, over and over
again. He recognized their meaning, but rejected the reality of them every
time.

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way this was right.

“Jake?”

“No,” he said with more force than he intended.

They were not getting divorced. This couldn’t be happening.
What about earlier? They’d made love. It had been perfect.

“Jake, we’ve been headed down this road for a while now.” She
spoke slowly, as if she were some reasonable, patient woman. Not his hot-tempered
wife.

“All couples have problems.” He crumpled the papers in his
fist.

“And most couples talk it out. They work on their issues. We
just fight, ignore the problem and don’t speak.” Her voice steadily rose in
volume. When Nicole got angry, she was pretty amazing.

“We can fix it.” He began to pace, through the kitchen and
living room, then back again.

“Then why haven’t we fixed it yet? Some things can’t be
fixed, Jake.”

“We’ve just been getting over things.”

For a moment neither spoke. He could picture Nicole biting
her lower lip, winding up for her rebuttal.

“Willow. You can’t even say our daughter’s name. She died.
And you checked out on me. When I needed you, you left and you’ve never come
back. I will not wait around for you to wake up. I want a divorce, and I want
to do it quick and civil. You can sign the papers and bring them to the old
house. I’m staying here until we figure it all out. There’s no reason to drag
it out.” She kept talking about how they could split assets, that it didn’t
have to be nasty, but they were just words.

Nicole was leaving him.

He’d given her space after the miscarriage. Walked on damn
eggshells. It wasn’t as though he could bring their baby girl back to life.
What did she want from him? He’d been torn up too.

“I’m not signing the fucking papers and you can’t make me,”
he said over her damn logic.

“Don’t fight me on this, please. I-I just can’t pretend
things are okay when they aren’t, and I don’t want to be with someone who isn’t
there for me.”

“I have been there for you.”

She blew out a breath. “Really? You want to do it this way?”

“I don’t want to give up on us.”

“There is no giving up. This isn’t a contest. It’s just how
things end sometimes.”

“No. Not like this.”

“It’s three in the morning. I’m not having this conversation
with you now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Good night, Jake. Hope everything
turned out okay tonight.”

“Nicole, do not hang up on me. Nicole?”

The line went dead.

Jake hurled the phone across the room. It hit the front of
the refrigerator and scattered into several pieces. He gaped as the broken
screen flickered once, twice before it went out.

This wasn’t him.

He sank into his recliner and buried his face in his hands.

How had things gone so terribly wrong?

He could still remember the first day he’d caught sight of
Nicole, how she’d turned his head so fast he’d pulled an illegal U-turn and
skidded into a parking lot just so he could deliver a horrible one-liner to a
pretty young redhead. She’d strolled up to his truck and told him to try again.

From the beginning he’d known Nicole was out of his
league—stylish, well-educated, way too young for him. He’d wooed her to the
best of his ability. And wonder of wonders, she’d fallen for him, the misplaced
country boy. It had begun as a whirlwind romance, all passion, sex and
excitement.

That was it.

Jake sat up straight and rolled the idea around.

He needed to seduce his wife back into love.

Nicole kicked the door shut and winced as it slammed home.
She’d forgotten how light it was. She hauled her load of groceries and
essentials into the long galley kitchen by way of the empty dining room to the
right of the entry.

There was almost nothing in the old house except for a few
pieces of furniture Jake had taken out of storage to stage it for potential
renters. She had a bed, a couch that dated back to their third year of marriage
and a few other mostly useless pieces. But the house was quiet, well-maintained
and didn’t cost her anything she wasn’t already paying. It really couldn’t get
better than this.

Except all around her were memories of a happier life. A
life full of love, joy and promise.

The kitchen backsplash Jake had insisted he could do on his
own. To a one, their renters had commented on the artistic combination of tiles
when really Jake had screwed up so much and she couldn’t stand to tell him. The
wall she’d put a hole in trying to erect a Christmas tree by herself because
she hadn’t wanted to wake Jake. They’d hung a wreath over the hole and stuck an
LED candle in it just to be funny until he could fix it. So many memories.

In a way, staying here was harder than the brick house
because these were where they spent the happiest years of their marriage.

The neighbors were a mix of people she knew and new buyers.
She’d avoided speaking to any of them the last two days by luck alone, but
eventually someone would catch her in the drive and she’d have to admit her
failure.

She went through the motions of putting everything away,
clearing her mind and focusing on the simple tasks. After holing up all day
Saturday, half terrified Jake would come over for a face-to-face fight and half
hoping he would, she was ready to put on her big girl panties and accept this
was the best move. Both for her and Jake. He didn’t want to fight to keep her
and she didn’t want to stay with someone who couldn’t be there for her.

It didn’t make being here by herself any less lonely. Even
when Jake was out working, she’d had pieces of him around her. A dirty shirt,
his cross-trainers or just his clutter there to remind her he was coming home.
She’d known he’d be back, or at least she’d hoped so. There was always the
danger when you married a cop things wouldn’t work out. But Jake had always come
home.

Her phone rang from the depths of her purse.

Nicole scrambled to dig it out of her purse, almost scared
to see who it might be. It rang so infrequently lately. She’d pushed most of
her friends away and her family wasn’t exactly the type to call for a chat. If
it was Jake, she didn’t know if she could hear his voice again.

Tanya Westling
scrolled across her screen.

There was no reason for Tanya to call her. Still, Tanya had
been awfully nice to her when Nicole hadn’t given her reason to.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Nicole. It’s Tanya.” As usual, her tone was full of
sunshine and joy. Maybe Nicole needed someone like that around.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She jammed the phone between her ear
and shoulder and kept putting away the groceries.

“Nothing much. Cole just left for the station, so I thought
I’d give you a call and see how you were doing.”

Nicole bit her lip. Did she ’fess up to what was going on?
The sad truth was a lot of officers got divorced for any number of reasons. It
wasn’t like it was easy being married to someone who could be yanked away from
you at any moment.

“I’ve had better days. Sorry about Friday.”

“No need to apologize. Everyone has a rough patch now and
again.”

“Thanks for being so understanding.”

“Anytime.”

Nicole didn’t know how to respond and the conversation
lulled to a stop. It wasn’t as if they were the best of friends. At most they
saw each other at officer functions or whenever someone had a cookout. There
was no reason to talk about anything else.

“I asked Jake for a divorce,” Nicole blurted out.

Tanya’s gasp was audible over the phone.

“I—did not mean to say that.” Nicole shut the refrigerator
door and rubbed her temple. “Sorry.”

Tanya’s voice was a small, quavering thing when she spoke
again. “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

“It is.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have just thrown that out there.
Could you not tell anyone? I mean, Cole will probably find out from Jake, but
I’d rather not have it run through the gossip mill.” There were a number of
wives who seemed to have nothing better to do than talk about everyone else.
Nicole had no time for them.

“No one will hear it from me.” Tanya paused. “Do you want to
talk about it?”

Did she? She didn’t honestly know. Over the last year she’d
put so much space between her and her closest friends, she felt truly alone
now.

“I don’t want to bother you with our problems.”

“Please, bother me.”

Nicole chuckled.

“What? Was it something I said?” Tanya asked.

“No, sorry. I have a thing for movie quotes.”

“What did I quote?”

“You didn’t, but it made me think of it. There’s this
cartoon movie called
The Last Unicorn
and the prince is trying to win
over this woman and he tells her, ‘Please, trouble me’. It’s stupid, I’m
sorry.”

“Sounds like a cute movie.”

“Yeah.”

“Hey, why don’t you come over here and we can eat, watch a
movie or something. Don’t feel like you have to, though.”

No
was on the tip of her tongue.

“Yeah, okay,” Nicole said.

Maybe that was what she needed after all. Just some plain
human companionship.

Diego gripped the wheel of the car, hyperaware of the first
signs of life within the house. He’d come by every few days, but each time it
was empty, the furniture almost gone, not a sign of life. But now someone
stirred. He hadn’t had time to do more than a brief search for the bastard
who’d ruined his life. No, he’d been too busy setting his old friends up to get
what they deserved. They’d pay. All of them.

The lights in the front of the house were on and a
bright-red convertible sat in the drive. Both were new additions to what had
been a dead-as-a-doornail house.

He killed the engine and got out, leaving the car several
houses down from the white house with the blue shutters. The block was quiet
this Sunday afternoon, no one to watch him as he strolled. No one to remark on
his presence as he happened by this residence.

The blue door opened and a woman with unmistakable red hair
emerged.

His step faltered, and for a moment he nearly turned and
bolted for the car. But why should he be worried about one woman? She’d never seen
him in her life. Oh, but he knew who she was.

Nicole Vant.

He continued to stroll, going past the house and down the
block as she left for whatever destination he didn’t know. After circling the
block on foot, he slipped through a vacant house adjacent to the Vant residence
and hopped the fence into the backyard.

Nothing had moved since the last time he’d stayed at the
house, just after being released from prison. Of course the Vants weren’t aware
that he’d crashed at their place, but it had helped him get the wheels rolling
for his revenge. He went to the back door and in a matter of moments let
himself in.

Signs of life peppered the interior. Discarded grocery bags,
a trash bin. He searched the premises with glee until he realized only one
person’s belongings resided in the bathroom and closet. Everything was for a
woman, not a man.

Where was Jake Vant?

He could make the woman tell him, but not yet. If he had to
go that route, it would be later. For today, he scoured the rest of the house
for clues. In time, he would have what he wanted.

* * * * *

Jake stumbled over the threshold into his house, an arm
slung over Cole’s shoulders. The room spun and he had a funny sensation in the
pit of his stomach. His mouth began to water, and it wasn’t because someone was
cooking up a storm in the kitchen.

“I think…I think I’m going to hurl,” Jake managed to get out
with minimal slurring.

“Shit,” Cole muttered and physically dragged him into the
guest bath across from the nursery.

Jake tried to move his feet, but the mix of liquor and beer
in his stomach was an unfortunate cocktail. Voices of the other guys mixed
together, echoing off the hall walls too loudly. His head pounded and his
stomach clenched.

Getting trashed after a full day of being on shift had
sounded like the great way to end a Monday. Drowning his sorrows had been the
idea. Now it felt as if there were weights around his throat, slowly
suffocating him.

Cole pushed him toward the toilet and lifted the seat. Jake
sat down on the edge of the bathtub and stared at the pristine porcelain bowl.
Had they ever even used this bathroom? Maybe when they’d painted the nursery.
Nicole had just edged into the stage where she had to pee every few minutes. He
couldn’t remember stepping foot in it in the last year.

It was a nice little bathroom, as far as bathrooms went, he
guessed. Nicole had decorated it, picking out the paint and little tissue
covers. He would never understand why everything in the damn bathroom was
white, the tiles, the walls, the tub, even the damn rug and shower curtain.
They’d known it would be the closest bathroom to their child’s future room, and
yet she’d gone with white. Except for the towels, those were bright blue.

Aaron stepped into the doorway, not getting too close. They
were all aware of the man’s weak stomach, a point Becca liked to razz him about
whenever the opportunity presented itself. Too bad she wasn’t there now. Becca
could hold her liquor better than half the guys and would probably still be at
the bar with him had the guys not dragged him home.

“Aaron, get some cold water from the kitchen. Maybe
something with electrolytes in it.” Cole rummaged below the bathroom sink,
pulling out a few crummy towels Nicole had probably stashed there for messy
emergencies.

This qualified. Though the intention more than likely was
for the baby variety.

“We’re going to take care of you, man.” Cole patted him on
the shoulder and spread out a towel on the floor in front of the toilet. “You
going to be sick on us?”

Jake swallowed several times, the taste of bile coating the
back of his throat. Sitting down seemed to have helped his situation. “Maybe.
Not sure.”

“It might be better to go on and get that stuff out of your
system. You slammed those last few rounds pretty hard.” Cole leaned against the
counter a safe distance away and studied him.

Jake had thought forgetting his problems for a little while
might ease his burden. Instead, his mind circled round and round the same
topic.

Nicole wanted a divorce. Their baby girl was dead. His worst
nightmare was a reality.

“Here’s some purple powder mix I think is a sports drink,
and water. There’s some pickle juice in the fridge if you think you can hold
that down.” Aaron set two plastic glasses on the lip of the tub next to him and
backed up to the other side of the bathroom.

“Did the others leave?” Cole asked Aaron.

“Yeah, his truck’s in the garage. They took off,” Aaron
replied.

“I’m not going to sign the damn papers. She’ll get those
signed over my cold, dead body.” Speaking took thought, forcing his lips and tongue
to work together, but he was pretty sure the words all ran together anyway.

“What did he say?” Aaron muttered.

“I know, man. You’re going to work this out,” Cole replied.

What a change this was. A few months ago it had been Cole
and Tanya on the rocks. Hell, Cole had even made an off-the-cuff remark about
wishing Tanya did things with him like Nicole. The man had been seeing only
what he wanted to. Sure, Nicole showed up to the necessary functions, but they
weren’t around each other. They stayed at opposite ends, driving separate
vehicles. And it was all his fault.

Jake hadn’t been there for Nicole like he should have.

“Where’s my phone?” Jake patted his pockets. “Did I leave it
at the bar?”

“No, man. I have it.” Aaron shook his head.

“Give it to me.” Jake held out his hand. He needed to call
Nicole, set it all straight. He’d make her listen. They’d fix this. It could be
fixed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Aaron crossed his arms
over his chest.

Jake sized up the other man. Aaron was stockier, but Jake
had a few inches on him. In an outright fight, Aaron would win. Even inebriated
he knew that was a losing battle.

“Hey.” Cole reached over and patted Jake’s knee. “You don’t
need your phone right now.”

“I need to call Nicole. Just give me the phone.” Jake held
out his hand. “Give it to me.”

“No, man. You don’t want to talk to her like this,” Aaron
replied.

“Stop being a dick and give me my fucking phone,” Jake said
louder. These were supposed to be his friends. They should be helping him get
his wife back, not keeping her from him.

“Think about it, dude. You’re drunk off your ass. I’ve never
seen you so trashed. What are you going to prove to Nicole like this?” Aaron
asked, leaning forward slightly. The golden boy could be a menacing prick when
he wanted.

“Fuck you,” Jake growled.

“You going to puke or not?” Cole asked.

“Fuck you too,” Jake added for good measure.

“You’re a ray of fucking sunshine, let me tell you,” Cole
replied, completely unruffled.

“I need to talk to Nicole. She needs to come home.” They
were a family, even if it was just the two of them.

“Fine. Here.” Aaron handed the refurbished phone across to
him.

Jake snatched it up and started pushing the buttons, but the
screen didn’t light up. Nothing happened. He smacked it against his palm. The
last phone he’d been issued had problems with all the little circuits. The one
he’d smashed over the weekend had actually worked. What was wrong with this
one?