3
RAFFERTY
CHRISTMAS EVE
“Hey,Raff. Judge Espiritu said the divorce was finalized yesterday. Sorry to hear about that.” Ronnie Strait, head of the Gang Suppression Unit, patted my shoulder. “Divorce at Christmastime is the worst.”
“It’s all good. Never shoulda gotten married to begin with.” I sent her a thin-lipped smile. “Nice to see that the Austin law enforcement community is still a bunch of gossips though.”
She knocked her shoulder into mine, her expression worried. “You know how it is, Raff. We’re like one big high school cafeteria. Bad news makes the rounds at lightning speed.”
“Yeah, well,” I said on a sigh, “definitely looking forward to seeing this year in my rearview.”
It’d been what my grandma liked to call achange year, and she’d always insisted that, once you survived a change year, you’d look back on it with a sense ofnostalgia. I wondered if she’d still say that knowing this was also the year I lost both her and Grandpa.
They’d raised me, so between their deaths and my divorce, I’d never felt quite so alone.
All I had at the moment was my job, a temporary rental, and the lakeside cabin they’d left me. I was grateful for all of it, but when I reflected on the hopes I’d had for this job, I either wanted to laugh hysterically at my naivete or sob uncontrollably for the state of humanity.
Unsurprisingly, I’d been avoiding the department psychologist like the plague.
“Not to add salt to the wound,” Ronnie said, “but did you hear about Jesse Travis?”
Fucking hell. What now with that guy?
“Did he get jumped again?”
I’d made headlines with that punch, which had put a spotlight on him. Last I heard, he’d been moved to a different unit after he nearly killed another inmate in self-defense. The thought that he had to defend himself like that made my stomach tighten.
Hell, I hadn’t even pressed charges, despite my old boss insisting. Whatever unearned guilt I had about the situation he’d put himself in, I really needed to offload that—like yesterday.
With this first eye-opening year of working with the GSU, it’s possible I’d finally lost a little of the compassion that’d always found a way to kick my ass. Also, why was my protective instinct making anappearance for a career criminal and someone clearly capable of defending himself?
I bet it was hard to defend himself with three cracked ribs.
Ah, there was that feckless empathy. Right on time.
By the way, his ribs were fine.
Yeah. Now.
“Actually, he was granted a conditional release,” she said, shaking me out of my annoyingly persistent internal monologue. I caught her expression—eyes wide as she slanted her bottom lip. As if waiting for my reaction. Which…? How the fuck?
Ah. Yes.
“Did he flip?” I guessed.
“Like a gymnast.”
“But he attacked me in front of a judge,” I protested, despite the relief I felt down in my guts. “And seven sheriff’s deputies.”
Ronnie’s grimace widened. “He never made any direct threats against you.”
I tipped my head to the side. “You saw the video. He came right at me, Ro. That’s a pretty direct threat if you ask me.”
“I know,” she said with placating hands. “But you know how this works. They wouldn’t have made this deal for some small-time bullshit.”
I mentally ticked through the case files. “The only fish big enough for that would be his dad.”
