That was a step too far. Stan’s face grew red. “I said, you’re out, Madden.”
Sylvie shook her head slowly as the shock of her new reality settled in. “Please. Come on. There must be something I can—”
“You’re lucky I’m not writing you up for internal affairs to investigate. But if you plead your case one more time, I will, and I’ll withdraw you, and it’ll go on your record as such.”
“Stan.”
He crossed his arms, looked down, and shook his head. “Get out, Madden.”
She stood up, turned on her heel, and managed to get all the way to her desk before the bomb in her chest went off. She started shaking and her stomach rebelled, sending nausea through her.
And then she looked at her desk blotter. Someone had left a brown manila envelope in the center. Without giving it much thought, she opened it and out fell a photo of her and Alex together with his hand on the small of her back as they left the restaurant that night. The photo was taken from a distance with a telescopic lens she was sure.
Written across her body in bold red Sharpie was the word SLUT.
She stared at the photo while trying not to puke. Her hearing sharpened as she listened to the chatter going on around her, trying to pick out any laughter or that horrible word directed at her. One of her fellow officers had done this, had stalked her with the intent of sabotaging her career. Not just that—intimidating her. Putting her down for no other reason than that she was a woman.
The nausea went away, replaced by rage. How many of them routinely stepped out on their wives and girlfriends—which was bad all on its own, but also set them up to be compromised? She’d seen it dozens of times, heard them joking about it later. What would prevent her from taking a camera and snapping off a few pics of an officer getting into a woman’s car in the parking lot of their favorite hangout, then using it as leverage to get anything she wanted?
My morals and sense of brotherhood, that’s what.Guess I was naïve thinking that sentiment was returned.
She sighed as she got her breathing under control. She’d been panting, shooting her heart rate up. Sylvie needed to figure out her next move. She could go to HR or back to Stan and demand to know her accuser, but it would probably land her in more trouble instead of solving the problem. They’d tell her it was her fault. She was out with Alex, after all. Guilty.
And what about Alex? Watchdog would be embarrassed by the whole incident. Or worse—they could lose their contract.
She made a fist but resisted hitting the desk. She thought she’d gotten past this crap, being harassed as a woman on the force. She thought she’d earned their respect through her actions, but no.
Not as long as someone felt it was okay to label her a slut for just being human.
Sylvie opened her drawer and pulled out a pair of gloves and an evidence bag. She put the gloves on and dropped the photo and envelope into the bag, then put the bag into her purse. She doubted anyone would be stupid enough to leave a print but you never know. Locard’s Exchange Principle—the idea that a criminal would always leave something at a crime scene as well as take something—went through her head.He was cocky enough to take the photo, label me a slut, and leave it on my desk in broad daylight, so why not?
She didn’t want to dust the photo for fingerprints herself or have it done in the department because as of now, she trusted exactly no one. And if this became an issue, she might be accused of evidence-tampering.
Jesus. How messed up is that?
Or, she could ask George to do it.Except… She put her face in her hands.Sure, yeah, run to Daddy like a little girl who’s taunted on the playground.
Whoever left the photo might even expect her to do that. And then when Sergeant George Williams stepped in, he could be accused of nepotism, or tampering with evidence, or any number of things.
Plus, he tended to get a little twitchy when someone messed with his daughter. She didn’t need her dad to be labeled a loose cannon.
No. She’d take the photo to Watchdog, maybe approach Arden as a favor, and have someone discreetly check the photo…
Wait. She couldn’t do that either because Alex would know. That was another can of worms. Not that he wouldn’t discover pretty quickly that she’d been kicked out of the Unit. But if he knew the reason why, then he might try and take full responsibility. The thought of him saying that he’d seduced her or coerced her in any way brought back the nausea. He loved his job, too, and she didn’t want to see him put it in jeopardy for her. She at least could continue as an officer, so long as Stan didn’t take this higher. But Watchdog could lose the training contract with the Boulder police, and how wouldthatlook to Lackland? Kyle might fire him on the spot.
God, why did we do this? Why didIdo this? Why didn’t I wait?
Slut.
Nope. Fuck that.
Sylvie woke up her computer and opened her intraoffice email program. It killed her to do it, but she typed up her formal withdrawal from consideration for the K9 Unit. She CC’d Stan on the message. Her finger trembled as it hovered over the enter key when it came time to send.
She closed her eyes and punched the key.
“Hey, you look weird. What’s wrong?”
Carla’s voice made her jump.
