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“I have been doing it the right way for 32 years. The necklace was there. You just missed it.”
That stings like a bitch, Frank thought bitterly as he downed the rest of his whiskey, watching Jerry leave his stool to get a refill from the bartender. Then again, this entire damn case was dealing blows to them left and right. Jerry had been on this like a dog with a bone ever since the serial killer he hunted had shown up as the killer in one of their investigations . . . and if Frank wasn’t known for a silver tongue, then the words “Jerry Ryan” and “silver tongue” would never be put in the same sentence. Hell, it had been Frank, of all people, to get Jerry to stop verbally attacking Sam when the prosecutors consulted the detectives for the case.
Note to self . . . ask Nolan what tequila is Sam’s poison of choice.
And now he was getting a taste of what Bernard must have felt like whenever he butted heads with the District Attorney’s office. Not only that, but Frank was playing the mediator between Jalen and Jerry. Where Jerry ran hot, his anger vitriolic when stoked, Jalen was as smooth, and cold, as ice. It had been obvious from their first interaction that Jerry and Jalen would not see eye to eye on aspects of the case, but while Frank had grown used to Jalen as his personal devil’s advocate, he knew Jerry wouldn’t take it well. Still, all three of them had worked the case to name Niles Harper as the serial killer. Frank thought they had it in the bag.
But while he had struggled to make Jalen see the good in his former mentor, Frank never anticipated learning that their prime piece of evidence was, in fact, a plant placed by Jerry. And suddenly, the lingering taste of whiskey in the back of his throat was replaced by nausea.
Frank set his tumbler down on the bar with more force than necessary, tracing the rim with a fingertip. After seeing the entire trail of massacres, there was no way he wanted Harper to go free. However, even though he was far from the perfect cop, there was also no way he wanted to see a piece of planted evidence be all they had. Hell, if there was a way to scrap the necklace and somehow win the case, he was all for it. But there was no way Jerry would accept digging further unless he skewed the investigation in their favor, and he had a feeling Jalen would be unable to help a few (totally deserved) statements of “I told you so.”
So that left Frank with one option.
He pulled out his cell phone and tapped out a quick message, watching the bar as Jerry waited for his next drink. The response to his message was just as quick, and thankfully, it was a confirmation. Frank flagged down a waiter and handed over the necessary payment for his drink, muttering “Keep the change” as he did.
When Jerry returned to the bar stool, Frank was gone.
He heard the taxi approaching the warehouse before he saw the headlights in the darkness. He silently pushed off where he sat on the hood of his car, seeing Nolan step out of the back of the taxi and thank the driver before it pulled away. While Frank had chosen to leave his suit jacket in the car, his shirt sleeves rolled up past his forearms, Nolan was still in full “attorney attire,” briefcase in hand. “I get the feeling I’ll owe you a bar crawl after this,” Frank told him.
“Well, I was hitting a few dead ends, so you’re doing me a favor,” Nolan shrugged, pointing to his car. “Do you mind?”
Frank shook his head. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks,” Nolan opened the backseat door and placed his briefcase on the floor.
“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “You might regret saying that later.”
Nolan folded his arms with a frown. “What makes you say that?” He took in the warehouse looming over them. “And what are we doing back here?”
“I’m here to make sure we really did find everything,” Frank answered, taking the flashlight he had rested on top of the car. “Because my gut tells me we didn’t, and I would really not rest this case on a damn necklace.”
Nolan narrowed his eyes. “That’s not solid?”
Frank scrolled through his phone, then showed an image of Christina Watkins, their murder victim. “That’s Christina the night she was murdered. Notice anything?”
Nolan examined the picture closely, then closed his eyes. “No necklace.”
“No necklace,” Frank confirmed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “It coulda been in her bag, or a pocket, but she wasn’t wearing it the night she was killed . . . and I checked that area before Jerry said he found it.”
“Damn it,” Nolan seethed, pinching the bridge of his nose and mentally counting backwards. “How did you know?”
“I visited Christina’s mother to confirm the necklace was hers,” Frank answered. “She said Jerry had visited earlier. And when I talked to Jerry just before I sent you that message, he avoided the topic like it was the damn plague.”
Nolan gritted his teeth. “You’re telling me that we’re using - ?”
“Do you really want to say it, Nolan?” Frank interrupted him, giving him a knowing look.
“No,” Nolan shook his head in disgust, glaring up at the warehouse. “Let’s get this over with. The sooner we find something, the better.”
Frank blinked. “That’s it?” he asked incredulously.
Nolan scoffed. “What, do you want me to lecture your ass, Cosgrove?”
At least he would make it a worthwhile one. Frank buried that thought before it could go elsewhere. “Better you than Jalen,” he admitted, walking towards the doors.
Nolan barked in laughter. “You’re just giving me a good reason not to give you one.”
Frank closed his eyes in annoyance. “I hate you.”
Nolan patted his shoulder. “No, you don’t.”
This would be easier if I did, Frank thought, clicking on his flashlight as they entered the warehouse, the beam darting to and fro around the vast space. “Thank you,” he finally said.
Nolan looked at him in bewilderment. “For what?”
Frank paused, turning to look at Nolan. The prosecutor looked genuinely confused. “For not giving a lecture,” he shrugged. “For coming though you had no idea what you were getting into. For being a friend.”
“So I’m being thanked for being a decent human being,” Nolan quipped. “What standards.”
“Can you ever not be snarky?”
“You can tell me to stop whenever you want.”
“ . . . you wouldn’t, though.”
“You know me so well.”
Frank groaned, shaking his head in annoyance. “Bastard.”
“Killjoy,” Nolan countered, eyes sweeping the warehouse, his nose wrinkling. “Ugh. I can still smell the bleach.”
“He was thorough,” Frank nodded, pointing across the room. “I was searching over there before I got called over here to take a look at where he’d cleaned up.”
“And that’s where Detective Ryan . . . ?” Nolan trailed off.
Frank’s answer was short and to the point. “Yep.”
Nolan turned on the flashlight on his phone, searching around where Jerry had planted the necklace. When he looked back at Frank, he looked utterly baffled. “There’s no way in hell you would have missed something like that necklace over here!”
“I know!” Frank nodded in agreement. “You’d think it would be found somewhere a cop hadn’t already looked.”
“Well, ultimately, you got him on it,” Nolan shook his head, crossing the warehouse back to him. “So let’s see if we can find something that means we don’t have to use it.”
“There’s butkus over here,” Frank snorted, gesturing to where the stench of bleach was strongest. “It reeks over here, we won’t find a thing.”
“I know Detective Ryan has the theory he’s a serial killer,” Nolan’s multicolored eyes darted from place to place in the warehouse. “Is there anything that might be something we could find?”
“I don’t think so,” Frank shook his head. “He’s grown bolder with each person killed, but that also means he’s gotten close to perfection with his work.”
Nolan pursed his lips. “What about the building?” he gestured around them. “What do we know about the building?”
Frank hummed, pulling out his phone to check the schematics. “He bought it six months ago,” he answered. “Used to belong to Greenworks before he offered them too sweet a deal to pass up - ”
“Wait,” Nolan held up his hand with a frown. “Say the company name again?”
Frank tilted his head. “Greenworks,” he repeated, seeing Nolan’s eyes widen. “What? You know it?”
“Oh, do I,” Nolan grinned, holding out his hand. “Flashlight?” Frank handed it over without hesitation, and Nolan aimed towards the ceiling, searching the corners and lines where the ceiling met the walls. “I’ve been hired by the company to defend them in lawsuits. Wanna know what the lawsuits were about?”
A glimmer of reflected light caught Frank’s eye, and his jaw dropped. “No way.”
“Yeah,” Nolan grinned triumphantly, aiming his flashlight at the camera lens concealed in the corner. “Hidden cameras installed by the company.” He turned back to Frank with a knowing smirk. “We’ve got work to do.”
“There’s been a change in proceedings?” Jalen repeated Sam’s words incredulously.
“That’s all she told me,” Jerry shrugged in annoyance, watching the attorney set up her laptop at the prosecution table. “Apparently, it was her boss’s call.”
Jalen frowned thoughtfully. “Price wouldn’t change everything on such short notice without a reason.”
“No, I wouldn’t.” Jalen started when said prosecutor strode through the doors of the courtroom and past the detectives, Frank stopping to join his companions. “And believe me, it’s a good reason.”
Before Jerry could ask a question, Nolan strode down the aisle to join Sam, the two prosecutors putting their heads together. “He’s a cheery one,” Jerry muttered, narrowing his eyes.
“He gets like this when he’s in prosecutor mode,” Frank told him with a shrug. “Let him do his thing.”
“Do you know what the change is?” Jalen asked curiously, expecting a denial.
He was surprised, therefore, when Frank nodded. “I do. And we’ve got our guy.”
“So what’s he got?” Jerry asked impatiently.
Frank shook his head, gesturing to the bench on their right as the judge called the court into session. “Ironclad evidence.”
Jalen looked in bewilderment at Frank as they scooted into the bench. How was Frank so certain of that? “ADA Price, I understand the defense has been informed of the change in proceedings?” the judge asked.
“They have been informed, Your Honor,” Nolan confirmed.
“Very well,” the judge nodded. “You may proceed.”
Nolan nodded, folding his hands in front of him as he announced, “The people call Detective Frank Cosgrove.”
Jalen, having fully expected Jerry to still be called, looked at his partner with wide eyes. Frank didn’t say anything as he rose from his seat and strode down the center aisle, exchanging nods with Nolan as he swore himself in as a witness. As Frank took the stand, Jalen recognized the glint in his eyes. It was something he had seen countless times in the hunt for Ava Marchenko’s murderer. This was a man who was not going to stop until justice was delivered.
And judging by Nolan’s steel spine, the Executive ADA wasn’t going to stop, either.
Nolan waited for a nod from Sam, and he pointed his remote at the screen next to the stand. With a click of a button, security footage was displayed for all to see. “Can you tell us what we’re looking at here, Detective?” he asked.
“That’s a three-hour window of security footage,” Frank answered. “This is the time frame that Niles Harper told us he dropped Christina Watkins off at the subway station.”
“And does Christina Watkins appear in it at any time?”
“No,” Frank shook his head. “She does not.”
Nolan clicked another button, changing the video to photos. “What are we looking at here?”
“An image from NYPD Auto Crime around 2:00 a.m. that same night,” Frank replied. “They were in the area looking for stolen cars.”
“Can you identify the car?” Nolan asked.
“It’s registered to Niles Harper,” Frank answered. “And it’s parked in front of the warehouse he owns in the Bronx at a time when he claimed he was home in bed.”
Nolan nodded thoughtfully, drumming his fingers against the remote as he paced in front of the jury. Jalen knew, if the prosecutor stuck with the original planned line of questioning, this would be where he would ask about the necklace.
Nolan didn’t do that at all. “Tell us about the warehouse, Detective,” he said, putting one hand in his pocket.
Jalen blinked in surprise, and he felt Jerry start next to him. “As I mentioned, it’s located in the Bronx,” Frank shared. “It’s located a quarter mile from the park where Christina Watkins was found. Before it was bought by Niles Harper, it was owned by Greenworks. He offered them a deal for the warehouse that they accepted, including a contract.”
Nolan opened a file on the desk, taking a stack of stapled papers and holding it up for Frank to see. “This contract?” he asked.
“Yes,” Frank nodded.
Nolan hummed, flipping through the papers. “And what in this contract caught your eye when looking into the warehouse?”
“A condition on Greenworks’ end.” The smirk on Frank’s face was obvious. “The cameras in the warehouse would stay.”
The way Harper’s face drained of all color would have been comical had the implications not rattled Jalen to the bone. “Cameras that, say, could have recorded what occurred in the warehouse that night?” Nolan asked.
“Yes,” Frank nodded. “The company confirmed they have footage of Niles Harper in the warehouse with Christina Watkins.”
Nolan aimed his remote at the screen. “Is this that footage?”
A clear view of the inside of the warehouse, from an angle Jalen never would have thought could house a camera, appeared on the screen. And clear as day was Niles Harper, armed with a knife and standing over a tarp, Christina Watkins spread eagle on it. On Jerry’s other side, Christina’s mother Patti let out a cry, covering her mouth with both hands. Harper looked ready to faint, and his attorney’s face twisted with nausea. Frank took one glance at the screen and nodded. “Yes. This shows everything Niles Harper did to Christina Watkins that night.”
Nolan nodded, turning to the judge. “Out of respect for the deceased and her family, I would prefer to fast forward to the end.” The judge nodded without saying a word, and Nolan quickly sped forward until they could see Harper haul Christina’s dressed corpse into his arms. “Please tell the jury about the rest of the defendant’s actions in this clip.”
“You see him carry the victim’s body out the doors of the warehouse,” Frank gestured. “Greenworks didn’t have any cameras installed with outside views, but that door leads out of the warehouse to where his car was waiting. That’s the same way we entered when we searched the warehouse for the investigation. He’s gone for the amount of time it would take to dump Christina in the park, then he returns to the warehouse where . . . ” He paused as Nolan sped the tape forward again. “You can see him gather the tarp to dispose of it, and he uses bleach to clear up anything left behind. We could still smell the chemicals when we combed through the place.”
“And yet you kept digging,” Nolan nodded, placing one hand on the railing in front of the jury, his fingers drumming. “Why?”
“Because I’ve seen cases make or break on evidence,” Frank answered easily. “I’ve seen it done on one piece of evidence. I wasn’t about to let this case be one that broke.”
“Thank you, Detective Cosgrove,” Nolan nodded. “I have no further questions.”
He turned on his heel and returned to his table next to a pale-faced Sam. “Cross-examination?” the judge asked, turning to Harper’s table.
Hunt rose to her feet, her eyes wild as she looked between Nolan and Frank. To Jalen’s eye, she was trying to find something, anything, to pick apart the damning testimony. But Nolan’s eyes, usually a swirl of multiple colors, were grey as thunderclouds as he stared her down. And Frank’s were glacial as he waited for a question, his face calm, his stance confident.
And as the woman took a deep breath, Jalen realized with a small thrill that she couldn’t find any chink in their armor. “I have no questions,” she whispered. “The defense rests, Your Honor.”
“As do the people,” Nolan stood from his table.
“Witness is excused,” the judge told Frank, who nodded and stood. “Court is adjourned for the jury to deliberate.”
As soon as the gavel hit, Hunt turned to Harper, the man trembling in his seat. Frank stepped down from the witness stand and crossed to the prosecution table, where Nolan remained standing. The two men inclined their heads towards each other, speaking together quietly. Sam scooted past them and quickly walked down the aisle towards the other two detectives, looking just as adrift as Jalen felt. “Did you know anything about this?” she asked him.
“Not at all,” Jalen shook his head in bewilderment, walking with Sam out of the courtroom, leaving Jerry to escort Patti. “Where the hell did Frank get all that in such a short time?”
“Last night, Nolan and I were doing our own digging,” Sam told him as they found a bench near the elevator. “He got a message at one point and said he would continue out of the office. I never heard anything from him again until he told me we would be changing the procedures.”
By that point, Frank and Nolan had exited the courtroom for the jury to come to a decision, and Jalen was struck by the powerful image they made as they walked together, almost close enough to touch. Those who had decided to watch the proceedings quickly scattered for the pair, not wanting to stand in their way. All had seen how, in one testimony, they took a dubious case and turned it into a case with an obvious outcome. “They did it together,” Jalen stated. There was no other conclusion.
Sam silently nodded. “We just don’t know what brought all this up to begin with.”
“Maybe that’ll be something to ask when this is done,” Jalen thought.
Sam nodded, then looked in her suit jacket when her phone vibrated. Across the room, Jalen saw Nolan do the same. He blinked, checking his watch. “Is that the jury?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, clearing her throat as she stood. “They’re back already.”
“Hopefully that bodes well,” Jalen murmured, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him.
Sam smiled thankfully as they entered the courtroom. “Try and convince Cosgrove to hit one of the bars, and I’ll do the same with Nolan?” she suggested.
“You’re on,” Jalen held up his fist.
Sam tapped it with hers and continued down the aisle to the prosecution table. Jalen remained in the aisle as Jerry and Patti returned, and he gestured for Jerry to enter the bench first. Jerry conceded with a curt nod, and while he turned expectantly when Frank and Nolan entered, Jalen quickly shuffled into the row, forcing Jerry to continue down the bench. Nolan continued up the aisle without a word, and Frank gave Patti an encouraging smile before he joined the detectives in the bench. “Nice work,” Jalen murmured under his breath.
“Got a lot done with way too much coffee,” Frank muttered in reply, flexing his fingers. “Feels like I’m about to vibrate right out of my skin.”
Jalen snorted. “That’s what happens.”
Frank smirked. “Would you believe Price had more than me?”
Jalen’s eyebrows rose, and he looked to the front as Nolan took his place by Sam. “No,” he shook his head, seeing how put together the prosecutor appeared. “Not at all.”
Frank snickered. “He’s good.”
Once everyone had taken their seats, the foreman of the jury handed a folder to one of the security guards. The guards handed it in turn to the judge, who examined the contents. His expression gave nothing away as he returned the folder. “Has the jury reached a verdict?” he asked.
“We have, Your Honor,” the foreman nodded as he stood and took the folder back.
“Will the defendant please rise?” the judge requested. Harper and Hunt stood, as did Nolan and Sam.
The foreman opened his folder, looking at its contents. “In the charge of murder in the second degree, we find the defendant, Niles Harper, guilty.”
With the amount of damning evidence given, Jalen had expected the verdict. He could see the tension in Nolan’s shoulders dissipate with the words, however, and he heard the quiet sigh of relief from Frank as well. “Members of the jury, thank you for your service,” the judge nodded, picking up his gavel as Harper was put in cuffs. “Court is adjourned.”
With the slam of the gavel, everyone began to depart. Patti turned to Frank with a wide smile. “Thank you,” she told him. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome, Mrs. Watkins,” Frank nodded, accepting the hug she gave him. “I’m happy your daughter got the justice she deserved.”
Patti nodded, wiping tears from her eyes as she looked at Jalen and Jerry next. “Thank you,” she told them both.
“Ma’am,” Jalen nodded.
Patti joined the rest of the observers in departing the courtroom, just missing Nolan and Sam as they walked down the aisle. “Is Counselor Hunt still trying to kill me by glaring at me?” Nolan asked dryly.
Frank snorted. “Yes.”
Nolan shrugged. “Her loss.”
“Literally,” Jalen looked between him and Frank. “What the two of you pulled off . . . ”
“I don’t know how you did it,” Sam shook her head, her awe clear.
Jalen did not expect the dark expressions that crossed the two men’s faces. “Let’s just say we had a good motivator and leave it at that,” Nolan said.
Jalen and Sam exchanged confused looks, then Sam coughed. “You rain checked a drink once, Nolan,” she told him. “How about the four of us this time?”
“Yeah, after today, I think we all deserve one,” Jalen agreed, backing up Sam.
“I won’t argue with you on that,” Frank sighed, checking his watch. “Yeah, why not? Nolan?”
“Definitely,” Nolan agreed with a nod. “Sam and I will meet you two at the usual?”
“You got it,” Frank nodded.
Jalen blinked. “You have a usual?”
Sam blinked when Frank set a tumbler of tequila down in front of her at the bar. “This is my go-to,” she said in surprise.
“Yep,” Frank nodded as he sat across from her and next to Jalen. “Rumor had it.”
Sam paused, then looked at Nolan. “Thank you, rumor.”
“You’re welcome,” Nolan smirked, already taking a drink of his bourbon.
“So, come on,” Jalen leaned forward, looking between Frank and Nolan with anticipation. “How did you two make it happen?”
“Yeah, I thought this case was shaky at best, after what the defense managed to get thrown out,” Sam agreed.
Frank sighed, swirling his whiskey around in his glass. “Well, after I talked to Mrs. Watkins, I wanted another look at the warehouse,” he said. “We’d already combed through it, of course, but another set of eyes didn’t hurt. I asked Nolan to go through it with a prosecutor’s point of view. That was when he asked about the specifics of the building.”
“And when Frank mentioned it was Greenworks who had previously owned the warehouse, I took a chance,” Nolan continued. “When I was a defense lawyer, I handled a few cases involving their ‘hidden cameras’ and contracts. Jack got the warrant pushed through in record time, we got the contract they formed when Harper bought the warehouse, and sure enough, it mentioned the cameras were still in working condition.”
“And still recording,” Frank grinned. “They were all too happy to give us what they had when we mentioned we were investigating a murder that happened on their former property.”
“Once we got the tapes, we just had to find what we needed to show in court,” Nolan finished. “That’s all we needed to crucify him. All in . . . ” He made a show of checking his watch, then made a face. “Well. Under twenty-four hours. I’m not doing the math.”
Frank snorted into his whiskey. “What, too much for your brain to handle after today?”
“I will toss this in your face,” Nolan threatened, holding up his drink.
Frank smiled lazily. “I’ll hide behind Jalen.”
“Uh uh,” Jalen threw his hands in the air, making Sam giggle. “Not on this suit, man. I ain’t protecting you.”
“And why waste that good of a drink?” Sam questioned Nolan.
“You want one?” Nolan smirked at her.
“No, thank you,” Sam sniffed, returning to her tequila. “I like my tastes just fine.”
Nolan shrugged, downing the rest of his. “Suit yourself.” He checked his glass, then pointed at Frank, noting his was almost done, too. “Refill?”
“Please,” Frank slid his glass across the table.
Nolan caught it effortlessly. “I’ll be back.”
“I feel like I’m stuck in the twilight zone,” Sam confessed, looking at Frank with her glass in her hands. “I have never seen the two of you like this.”
“What, tolerating each other?” Frank raised an eyebrow.
“As friends,” Sam corrected.
Frank shrugged. “I got my head on straight the last few months, that’s all. We passed a few olive branches, and we got to this point. If it means we’re working together better than before, then that’s an extra benefit.”
“Hey, the better we all work together, the better off we’ll all end up,” Jalen remarked.
“I’ll drink to that,” Sam held up her glass.
Jalen clinked his beer against her glass, then he felt Frank tense at his side. When he looked up to follow Frank’s line of sight, he saw Jerry crossing the bar with a purposeful stride. Unlike in the courtroom, there was no easy way of escape in the throng of people. “Frank?” he asked quietly.
Frank silently shook his head, then leaned back in his chair, watching Jerry reach the table. “Thought you had decided to head home, Jerry,” he remarked.
“We need to talk, Frank,” Jerry said bluntly.
Jalen’s eyes narrowed, almost able to taste the hostility rolling off the older man. Sam had recoiled the moment Jerry stopped at their table, her eyes darting between the senior detectives like she was witnessing a tennis match. Frank’s eyes were expressionless, as was his voice when he finally spoke again. “Sam, Jalen, why don’t you check on those refills?”
Jalen took the offered out, and he walked around the table, extending his hand to Sam. She accepted his help and quickly followed him away from the table, sending a furtive glance back as they walked. When Jalen, too, looked back, he saw Jerry take his former seat, his eyes narrowed to slits as he leaned in towards Frank. “I don’t like this,” he murmured.
“Don’t like what?” Nolan asked from behind them as he walked over, his and Frank’s new drinks in his hands.
Sam swallowed and nodded towards the duo of detectives. “That.”
Nolan stared long and hard at Frank and Jerry, his multicolored eyes narrowing. Jalen knew that face. It was the face of the prosecutor calculating how to intervene on behalf of his witness. “I think I know what this is about,” he said, looking at Jalen and Sam. “Stay here.”
Sam opened her mouth to protest as Nolan made his way through the bar, but Jalen shook his head. “Let them handle this.”
Frank waited until Jalen and Sam were out of earshot, and he rubbed his forehead, bracing for the headache he knew he would have by the end of this chat. “Alright, have your say.”
“We had the bastard, Frank!” Jerry snarled. “We had him with the necklace!”
“And we definitely had him after digging further,” Frank countered. “The prosecution team weighed our testimonies and decided using the video footage was the evidence needed for the conviction, so they called me to the stand. Simple as that, Jerry.”
“Don’t give me that, Frank,” Jerry shook his head. “I talked to Shaw before you waltzed in with Price for the trial. According to Maroun, it was Price’s call to make the change.”
“Who leads the prosecution team,” Frank said slowly. “I don’t see the problem.”
“You know damn well what the problem is, Frank!” Jerry snapped. “In these investigations, we work as a team. We don’t go all vigilante.”
Frank snorted loudly. “Yeah, because there’s been no ‘going vigilante’ from anyone during this investigation.”
Jerry scowled. “Excuse me?”
“Cut the crap, Jerry,” Frank shook his head. “If you seriously thought I would consider our conversation last night closed, you should have thought again. Pictures of Christina Watkins from the night she was murdered were all over the place. She never wore that necklace.”
Jerry scoffed. “It could have been in her pocket, or in her purse - ”
“Bullshit,” Frank interrupted coldly, stopping his mentor in his tracks. “I ran that through my head at first, too, but no way in hell would that be enough to convince a jury. So yes, after you made it clear we were done, I asked Nolan to help me sweep the warehouse again. And I’m sure as hell glad I did.”
Jerry’s face twisted. “You trusted the goddamn attorney over one of us?”
“I trusted Nolan,” Frank shook his head. “Who listened to what I had to say and volunteered to help without me even asking. He didn’t give me a lecture or question choices I made.” He narrowed his eyes. “And he made it pretty clear that I wouldn’t have missed an obvious piece of evidence like a necklace.”
“He’s not a detective, Frank!”
“He’s my friend!” Frank snapped. “And in the moment, that was what I needed when I learned my mentor planted evidence!”
Jerry’s fingers curled into a fist where it rested on the table. “You’re out of line, Frank,” he warned.
“Am I?” Frank challenged. “Or do you not like getting called out, Jerry? Tell me, if I were to go through previous cases of yours, how many times would I find a case with grounds for dismissal until you found a piece of evidence that miraculously saved the day?”
“You wouldn’t,” Jerry shook his head.
“I think I would,” Frank countered. “So stay away from my cases from now on, Jerry. Or I will go through all those cases of yours and find just how many I can tear apart.”
Jerry reared, nostrils flaring. “Frank - ”
“And I’d be right there helping him.” Jerry spun to see Nolan looming behind him, and while Jerry had lost his suit jacket and tie after court, Nolan had chosen to remain in his full attire. He made an intimidating figure as he stood over Jerry, multicolor eyes dark in the dim lighting of the bar. “And I’d be the one who could appeal and get the rulings overturned,” Nolan added, setting Frank’s whiskey in front of him. “So be very careful with your next words, Detective. I don’t like it when my friends are being threatened.”
“Just leave, Jerry,” Frank shook his head, picking up his whiskey. “You aren’t welcome here.”
Jerry’s jaw clenched, and Nolan worried he was about to say something else, but he stood, pushing his chair back. Nolan nodded and moved to sit, then saw Jerry lean in and whisper in Frank’s ear. He couldn’t hear what was said, but Frank froze in his motion of taking a drink, and Nolan could see his entire body tense, his grip on his tumbler tightening until his knuckles turned white. “Counselor,” Jerry nodded curtly, walking around the table.
“Jerry.” Frank’s voice was void of all emotion, and Nolan looked at him worriedly, having never heard that tone before. “With all due respect, never come near me, any of my coworkers, or my children if that’s how you’re going to act.”
Nolan’s eyes widened in alarm at the statement, then he narrowed them, turning to Jerry. “What did you - ?”
“Leave it, Nolan,” Frank shook his head. “Jerry? Out. Now.”
Jerry gave Nolan a mocking nod, then turned on his heel and strode out of the bar without another word. Nolan waited until the door shut behind the elder detective, then he spun in his seat and looked at Frank, who was staring into the dark liquid in his glass. “I swear to God, if he threatened you,” he began.
“He didn’t threaten me, Nolan,” Frank shook his head; Nolan heard a creak, and with a start, Nolan realized Frank had been gripping the table so tightly, the wood had started to protest. Frank looked down as if realizing the same thing, and he eased his grip with a wince. “He just always knew what buttons to press when it comes to getting my attention.”
Nolan frowned, unconvinced, but before he could say another word, Frank raised his hand and waved at the bar. Jalen and Sam returned with full glasses, their younger partners wide-eyed. “All good, Frank?” Jalen asked in concern, dropping into his seat.
“Just fine,” Frank smiled tensely. “Just ready to put this case behind me.”
“I think we can all agree on that,” Sam nodded, raising her glass.
All four of them clinked their drinks together, and as Jalen and Sam took drinks, Nolan put his phone back down on the table, seeing Frank search for his after it vibrated. He saw Frank glance at his screen before smiling.
Say the word, and I’ll destroy his career.
Frank smothered a laugh, turning his phone back down. He shook his head fondly at Nolan before inclining his glass towards him and taking a drink. The touching part was he knew Nolan was completely serious. If he asked, Nolan would rip through Jerry’s cases with ruthless efficiency. And while that was a very tempting thought, Frank’s concern had been Christina Watkin’s case. With that now in the rearview, Frank could relax. Though, as he listened to Sam detail one of her earliest cases with the District Attorney’s office and Jalen recount a jinxed day on the job, Jerry's last scathing words rang in his head.
This is what happens when you get into bed with the District Attorney’s office.