We walk past the desk, and that’s where I stop. Charlie takes a few more steps before she realizes I’m not with her, and then she swivels to face me. “Coming?”
I shake my head. “This is your news to share.”
Her scowl is more serious than I thought it’d be. Surely she knows she needs this without me hovering close by. I raise my eyebrows at her, daring her to challenge mefor what I know is best for her. And then she rolls her eyes.
Closing the short distance between us, I bring her into my arms and say, “You can do this. You don’t need me. Go tell your captain, and then we can go home.”
“Fine,” she huffs before letting me go. She takes a few backward strides, eyeing me with annoyance, before she circles on her sneaker and heads fully into the building, disappearing around the corner.
“What news?” a female voice says behind me.
I look over my shoulder. By now, having studied the files of all those arrested, I know who this woman is. I fully turn and tip my chin in greeting toward her. “Rochelle?”
She tucks her coat tighter across herself. She looks haggard, as if she’s barely sleeping. Nodding, she says, “You must be Feenix.” There’s no hostility in her tone, which is surprising. I thought, on some level, she’d blame me for what her husband was involved in, maybe even his arrest, even though I had nothing to do with either of them.
“I am.”
She gives me a weak smile, but it’s a genuine one. Her eyes shift behind me to where Charlie disappeared. “What news is she sharing?”
I glance with her before returning my gaze to hers. Stuffing my hands into my jacket pockets, I answer, “She’s quitting.”
A shocked look takes over her face. “But . . . this is all she’s ever wanted, and this is her big break. You’re joking, right?”
I shake my head. “It’s the right thing to do, at the right moment.”
Her brows pull together. “What do you mean? What does she plan to do instead?”
“We’ve opened a foundation for sex trafficked victims. She’ll be running that. With me.”
During her bed rest, it had taken us all of two days to decide what to do with all of our money. With the income I had made from the business, we took a majority of it to open a foundation for those who need it most, starting with the victims of the business itself. So far, we’ve paid for all of them to return home and offered services for them to get the help they need to recover. But it’s not going to end there. We have much more to do because both of us know damn well that the operation we just brought down isn’t the only one out there.
Donations have been pouring in since the case was brought to the news. We’ve been featured in the articles about what we plan to do and how we want to help. Our little idea had gotten bigger than we had ever planned it to.
Yesterday, I put in my notice with the Department. Today, Charlie is putting in hers. And tomorrow? We go shopping for a building and begin looking at applications for the foundation’s employees. Noll is at the top of that list, which doesn’t take much consideration. He’d be useful, and truth be told, I want him around.
Rochelle breathes out through loose lips. “Wow. I can’t think of a better thing for her to do, to be honest.”
I nod and then look at her, really look at her. Then I ask in a rare show of concern, “How are you doing?”
Her shoulders sag. “I just want this to be over. I’m here to collect Miles’s things, and the first place they’re going is the dumpster around the corner. I don’t know what I’m going to do after that. Find a job, I suppose. Maybe move in with my sister until I can find my way.”
I give her a small shrug. “The foundation is looking for a secretary.”
She blinks at me, shocked at my offer. “I couldn’t.”
“You could. And I know Charlie would want you there. You could do a lot of good, erase what your husband did.”
Her eyes get a little glossy as tears gather in them, and for as long as it takes her to respond, I almost think she’s going to outright refuse. But then she rushes forward and hugs me. “You don’t know what this means to me,” she whisper-sobs into the leather of my jacket.
I gently pat her back until she pulls away. “Give Charlie a call tomorrow, and we will get everything set up.”
“Okay,” she murmurs, wiping away tears. “I will. Thank you. Truly. I’ve been a little lost and this? This . . . it’s exactly what I need and exactly what I want to surround myself with.”
“Good,” I murmur back then gesture behind me. “Go gather his stuff and burn it. The dumpster is too easy.”
She gives me a watery smile but says nothing more as she passes me and bends around the same corner Charlie went through. I don’t know how long I stand there, waiting for my woman to return, but eventually, she does, and in her hand is a box with her things inside. Trailing above her are a few congratulations balloons.
The set of her eyes is uncertain, but a mischievous grin brightens her face. When she reaches me, I ask, “How’d it go?”
