ranks of law enforcement ahead of cops with more policing experience than his own ten years. Kevin supposed his code was more from character than career advancement and was possibly the only way he’d been able to keep sane in a world that was sometimes so utterly out of order.
Very little was ever spoken about Matt Jorgensen’s past. What little Kevin did know was usually talked about in hushed voices. The man had lost his wife in a brutal murder over ten years ago and he’d been fingered. Rumor was, the police hadn’t even looked for another suspect. It had been Matt’s own digging and relentless work with his attorney that eventually got him off the rap. But the case had grown cold and the killer was never found. Matt had gone to the academy soon after.
“Is Daria Carlisle looking to get a restraining order? Did she ask for your help?” Matt asked.
“No,” Kevin reluctantly admitted. Which irritated him further. Daria had to have known George was at her office. Ski had seen Carlisle carrying flowers on his way into the building, but not on the way out. When she’d found the flowers, she should have called him.
“I told you before,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair. “George Carlisle hasn’t broken any laws. And he has a viper attorney who will strike at us if we even breathe George Carlisle’s name the wrong way. Unless you want to get bitten, you need to back off. We have done all we can in this situation.”
“I should have walked away from that meeting as soon as I heard the static in my piece. If I’d done the job right the other night, George Carlisle might be behind bars right now.”
The captain’s shoulders drooped in impatient form.“‘Might be’ is the operative phrase. Look, we’ve been through all this.”
“And none of us came out happy in the end. Least of all Daria Carlisle.”
Matt threw his hands up by his side. “I don’t hear Ms. Carlisle complaining. You told her what happened down at the salvage yard. You offered her a solution and she flat out rejected it. She hasn’t called this office asking for help, as far as I know.”
“Because she won’t believe her ex is capable of murder,” he drawled.
With a shrug, Matt said, “We’ve see that before. Are you really surprised?”
No, Kevin wasn’t. He’d seen women run back to their husbands after a standoff with a loaded gun to their head.
Of course, he knew the reason why they did it. Some women simply refused to believe they were actually in danger. They chose to ignore the signs of trouble. He’d seen it firsthand, when his sister’s best friend had been murdered. Lucy had believed she had nothing to fear from her ex-boyfriend. And now she was dead. How many women had he seen follow Lucy’s path in the years he’d been on the force?
Too many, he decided. He didn’t want it to be too late for Daria, as it had been for Lucy. It had been nearly twenty years since Lucy’s death, but Daria’s case brought all the fear and frustration back.
Daria wasn’t Lucy. But she did need protection. And he wasn’t going to let her down.
“We need department support to tail Carlisle. Between me, Jake and Ski, there aren’t enough hours in the day.”
“Or enough dollars in your bank account to personally pay off-duty officers.” Matt shook his head and darted a pointed finger at Kevin. “Don’t deny it—I don’t want to discuss it. I don’t even want to know what you, Santos and Stanasloski are doing on your off-hours. I have a feeling it’ll just tick me off and I’m sure it won’t make Carlisle’s attorney any happier. And as far as getting the department to authorize the overtime, no can do. I just can’t justify the expense to the commissioner.
“Look, you’ve always been focused on your job. In the seven months I’ve been here it’s been clear something is driving you more than just the paycheck. I know what that’s like,” he said. Then Matt’s attention turned to the people gathered
Learning to Kill: Stories