White Night

Chapter 53

Her heart was in her mouth as she stood outside the door.

Connors had called Ross before she interviewed Nikolai, but he hadn't answered, not even to tell her to go to hell. He didn't need to, she was already there.

Grinair had been cuffed and escorted to holding. IAB would interview him and then take him to central booking.

Perez had launched at her when Grinair was brought out, slamming her into the outside wall of the captain's office, sending "success" pictures crashing to the floor inside. She'd deflected his punch before Saunders and Gage pulled him away. The captain had flown out of her office and ordered Perez out of the house to cool off, but the look Saunders gave her was clear: she was garbage who'd ratted out one of their own.

Grinair would be kept in isolation for his own safety, but eventually he'd be part of the general population and spend the rest of his days watching his back for attacks from other inmates or the Romanos, and she'd put him there. For what? Protecting children from sickening abuse.

It wasn't that simple—it never was—but in the eyes of the rest of the house, she'd sunk a good cop to save rich boy Ross. Her partner didn't need his monthly paycheck. Grinair's wife would lose his salary and likely his pension. Connors was scum.

She knocked on the door to Ross' apartment, deliberately turning her head away from the peep hole. A baseball cap covered her hair. She needed him to open the door.

The door opened and Ross looked like hell, but at least they were there together. He tried to close it again, but she pushed it back on him and barged in.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled.

"I need to talk to you."

"Get out. I'm done talking to you." He walked away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

His apartment was simple, but the sheer size of it and its location betrayed the owner's wealth. An owner that was unshaven in track pants and bare feet, with the stale scent of alcohol on his breath.

"Didn't the captain call you?" she asked as she took in granite countertops, high ceilings, and an aquarium built into an alcove.

"Yep. Told me that I'm no longer suspended due to new information, and to talk to you about it."

"I've been trying to call you."

"I didn't want to talk to you. I still don't."

"Look, I'm sorr—"

"You just stood there and backed Grinair over your partner!" he shouted, leaning forward and throwing his arms wide. Her gaze instinctively snapped to his hands. Ten feet away, hands empty, reactionary gap intact.

Shock rippled through her body. She knew he'd be pissed but hadn't expected him out of control like this.

"I know, but—"

"And where the hell were you yesterday? Your partner gets suspended and you take off for the rest of the day." His skin was red now, the muscles in his body tight, with one hand balling into a fist.

"I was—"

"You know what's worse than the PTSD? It's the reaction from everyone who's supposed to have your back. Sympathy or loathing, it's all bullshit!" he shouted, advancing on her again.

"I didn't—"

"You know, you talk about me, but I've been there for you every time you needed me on this case, even with my effed-up head." He stepped toward her again, the veins in his neck popping and his finger two feet from her nose. Less than five feet, reactionary gap...oh, screw it...

"Grinair's going to jail." She slapped his finger away from her face and stepped forward into his space.

"What?" Ross said quietly, taking a step back.

"Grinair's going to jail."

"Why? How?"

"Because when I 'took off' yesterday, I spent the rest of the day looking for evidence against him, and last night I located the cell phone that Nikolai had called from the warehouses."

His shoulders sank as he met her gaze again.

"Grinair's fingerprints were on it, along with a message from Nikolai asking him to come get him."

Ross shook his head slowly. "Why didn't you tell me that you believed me, that you were investigating Grinair?"

"Because you were already suspended and I knew you'd want to help, but if you were caught still investigating Grinair, you'd end up on desk duty and you wouldn't come back from that."

A long sigh drained from his torso as he walked away, rubbing the back of his neck. His T-shirt sank into the broad recess between his shoulders as he dropped his head and sighed a second time.

"There's something else..." she said, purposefully letting the words hang in the air. She needed to draw him into the case again; she wanted her partner back.

"What?" he asked, his back still to her.

"White Night is going to explode at 9 pm tonight in Greenpoint, and I need your help to stop it." She held her breath for his response.

Screw needing his help, she missed his quiet company, knowing he was beside her and had her six. Even while she was trying to trap him, he'd shown up and got her out of trouble just in time. The hard fact was that no one else wanted to work with either of them now, they were pariahs together...

When he finally turned around, she knew he was back.

Few cops could refuse a genuine request for help. It was what they trained for since the first day at the academy, to help during the worst horrors of a person's life or in the middle of your stupidest life-altering decision, when you didn't even want them there. They were trained to stop the danger and mop up what was left.

Grinair had it wrong. Standing here in this Midtown apartment, even with the wreckage of his mind, Ross was still a cop.

Fidelis ad mortem. "Faithful until death," the NYPD motto. She hoped it wouldn't be necessary tonight.