"Cop killer." Ash folds the note, slides it into his jacket. "Dirty cop who murdered one of their own. PR nightmare." He looks at Daniels' body, then back at me. "Self-defense. Case closed."
***
The cops arrive in a flood of sirens and flashing lights.
Blue and red strobes through my windows. Footsteps thunder up the stairs. Voices. Radios. Too many bodies in too small a space.
A detective pushes through the uniforms. His eyes sweep the room, land on me.
"Walk me through this." He points at me. "You shot the deceased?"
"Yes. He was going to kill me. I defended myself."
"With what weapon?"
"His backup piece. Ankle holster."
The detective looks at Daniels' body, at the ruined face. "Who did that to him?"
I've written this scene a dozen times. The detective fishing. The witness who says too much. The moment the case turns.
"I don't know." I keep my voice flat. "It happened fast. I was focused on the gun."
"You didn't see—"
"I saw a man with a gun to my head. I got to his backup piece before he could pull the trigger." I hold his gaze. "That's what I saw."
The detective's eyes flick to Diesel—against the wall, barely upright, Crow keeping him there while Maya works. His knuckles are split, his hands covered in blood.
"And him?"
"He came through the door. Daniels shot him. Twice." I don't look away. "After that, I don't know. I was trying not to die."
The detective's mouth flattens. "Doesn't add up."
My stomach drops.
This. This is what Diesel was afraid of.
Ash reaches into his jacket and pulls out the blood-soaked paper.
"Before you make any decisions, you need to read this."
The detective—Miller, according to his badge—takes it with gloved fingers. He reads the note. His mouth goes slack, then hard.
"What is this?"
"Daniels' insurance policy." Ash steps forward. "A forged suicide note in her handwriting. He was going to force her to pull the trigger, make it look self-inflicted. Frame Carver as a rapist in the process."
An older detective pushes through, gray at the temples with deep grooves bracketing his mouth.
"Carver." He looks at Daniels' body. His lip curls. "Just confirmed it. Shot in his car outside his home. Daniels ambushed him like a fucking coward."
"We've got everything. Phone records, bank transfers, a forged suicide note in her handwriting." Ash holds up the blood-soaked paper. "Nova Reyes has the full case file when you need it."
The older detective looks at the note, at Daniels' body, at me.
Miller shifts. "What's the call?"
