Castleton Police Department

  Friday

  Detective Mackey and Deputy Chastain step into the operations room. Silence, and a dozen pairs of questioning eyes, greet the two men. Sergeant Emerson rises from her desk. She looks from James to Morris. However, after a brief moment, she sits back down. The sergeant rearranges items on her desk, attempting to seem busy. Detective Mackey glances sidelong at Morris and whispers.

  "I never thought I'd see the day when Sergeant Emerson has absolutely nothing to say. Since Dave started making appearances on a regular basis...All the woman does is talk. Asking how my day was, asking how Dave's day was, or what's the newest movie showing in town? Today...Nothing. So much for innocent until proven guilty."

  "Oh. Don't worry about that...," Morris begins.

  The junior deputy is interrupted by Chief O'Leary, who chooses that moment to step out of his office.

  "Mackey, get in here! I wanna talk to you," O'Leary barks. "Morning, Chastain. Hang around until I'm done speaking with Detective Mackey. I need to talk to you too. Just hang tight."

  James strolls into the Police Chief's office, a sinking feeling in his stomach. The set of O'Leary's face tells the detective this is not going to be a pleasant conversation. And not a single drop of hazelnut coffee in sight.

  Paul O'Leary waits until Detective Mackey has seated himself at the desk before glancing around the operations room and shutting the office door. He strides over to the desk and sits down opposite James, fingers intertwined and hands pressed against the wooden desktop.

  "Why the hell didn't you just go home last night, Mackey?" Paul hisses, weathered brow knit with frustration.

  "As I told you before, Chief...I was the closest unit. I felt I had an obligation--," Mackey ventures to say.

  "You had an obligation to what?" O'Leary interrupts. "To foul up my life and this investigation. How many times this month have I asked you to step away? How many times, Mackey? Can you even remember? Too many damn times."

  The chief glowers at Detective Mackey from across the desk and shakes his weary head. He rolls his tongue over the back of his teeth, attempting to suppress his growing anger. With a sigh Paul O'Leary reclines in his chair, refusing to look away from Detective Mackey's face.

  "Mitch Turner has been on my ass all fugging night. He's been calling the station just about every hour--on the hour. He even tried to buffalo his way in here a couple of times. The number one thing he keeps asking me...Is why you haven't been suspended while the investigation is underway? I keep telling him to fug off and wait for developments like everybody else. But that won't work forever, Mackey. I need some answers. Why the hell did you answer that call while you were off duty? You got troubles at home? Everything okay?" Paul prods the brooding detective.

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  "No, Sir. Everything is fine at home. I was just doing my job. Like I've always done."

  "Like hell," O'Leary growls. "If one of my patrol officers had been on the scene first...Instead of you...There'd be body cam footage. As it is ..I've only got your word and Officer Melbourne's patrol camera. Her body cam was stolen by who knows who. Until we find the body of that girl you say you saw on the roof...The one who fell through the canopy...We've got zero to go on."

  "I didn't say I saw her, Chief. I actually saw her. I have no reason to make this story up," James responds somewhat bitterly, the implication in the Chief's words very clear.

  "Well, according to Mitch...You might have a pretty good reason. He surmises maybe the lady in the second trenchcoat is a figment of your imagination. Maybe you're cracking under pressure. Or maybe, you just made it all up. He figures, you and Melbourne were having an illicit affair that went wrong."

  Detective Mackey's mouth falls open in shock. He leans forward on the Chief's desk, preparing to launch into a defensive speech. Chief O'Leary holds up a solitary finger.

  "Hold your horses, Mackey. At least, until I've had my say. Now...During his last phone call, Mitch laid out what he thinks may have happened. He suspects that having a newborn babe at home has worn out your sex life, and you went exploring. You and Melbourne had a thing going on...It ended badly...And you killed her out of vengeance. Using this other trenchcoat woman as a convenient cover. I told the smarmy bastard he's full of crap. But he says he's gonna start doing some digging. Said he heard some whispers on the wind. I don't like the sound of that, Mackey. I don't like it at all."

  "Neither do I, Chief. There is nothing wrong with my sex life. I love my wife. And I hardly knew Officer Melbourne. We spoke maybe a dozen times. Always professionally. I did not kill her. The second woman in a tan trenchcoat is very real. The forensics team found traces of blood on the construction canopy and someone definitely fell through it. That's a whole lot of trouble to go through to cover an illicit affair, Chief. There are easier ways."

  "Are there?" the chief says with narrowed eyes, carefully evaluating Detective Mackey.

  "You know what I mean, Sir! We investigate these kinds of situations all of the time. Why put on such an elaborate show? What would be the point? If I was gonna pretend Francine had hung herself...Why not do it at her home? Why not make it look like an obvious suicide? Out at that site...Why even bother with that phony call to the station? It doesn't make sense, Chief. No. Someone else killed Melbourne. Someone else, with a beef and a lot of experience in firearms."

  "Hmmm. Like I said, until we find a body...It's just your word, Mackey. And eventually, I'm gonna need answers to counter whatever crap Mitch cooks up for the evening news. I may have to suspend you. Just for the time being. I hate to do it. But it may come to that, Detective. I'm sorry."

  Detective Mackey scowls, struggling to keep his emotions from bubbling over. Why hadn't he just gone home last night? Like O'Leary said; he should have let one of the normal beat cops handle the situation. If he could undo the last twelve hours, he wouldn't hesitate for a second. The look of fear and confusion on Madison's face, as she kissed him good morning, had nearly broken his heart. He'd never wanted to put her in that position. Ever. But, indeed he has.

  Standing up from his chair, Detective Mackey addresses Chief O'Leary in a low voice.

  "Is that all, Chief?"

  "For now," Chief O'Leary says noncommittally.

  Detective Mackey turns from the Chief's desk and strolls across the office. He leaves, motioning for Deputy Chastain to take his place. Morris notes the dour expression on Detective Mackey's face with a sinking feeling.