On a chuckle, Heather leaned back in her chair.
“Excuse me.” Captain Perry rose. “Time to kick off the evening.”
“You’ll do great, honey,” said her husband.
They shared a smile before Tiana headed toward the front of the room, stepped behind the podium, and addressed the audience.
“Good evening. I’m Captain Tiana Perry, Arlington County Police Department. On behalf of Chief Watson and everyone in the ACPD, we’d like to welcome you to the twelfth annual Fallen Heroes Fundraiser.” She paused for applause. “Losing one of our own in the line of duty is devastating for family, friends, and fellow officers. By supporting the families of the fallen, we honor their lives and ensure their legacies live on. Your generous support helps them get back on their feet by providing them with the funds needed to stay afloat. It also allows children of fallen officers to attend college. If you’re sitting at a table with someone who’s lost a beloved friend or family member, we hope you’ll share a kind word. Thank you for being here with us this evening.”
As Captain Perry made her way back to the table, Emerson fought against the pain and the sorrow. She wanted to let the tears roll down her cheeks, but she’d never show emotion in public. Never appear weak or draw attention to herself. She missed her brother every single day and now, this. This wonderful event was being shoved down her throat and she was forced to sit there and face her own loss. Her brother would not be honored for his years of service. He would not be labeled a hero. He had been labeled a drug addict, and it was killing her.
Her chest tightened, tears threatening. “Excuse me.”
With her gaze trained on the exit doors, she kept walking. As soon as she stepped into the quiet hallway, a small choked sob escaped into the air. Fortunately, no one was around to hear her.
* * *
Before pushing out of his chair, Stryker glanced over his shoulder. He had no idea what tragedy Emerson had suffered or how his aunt was helping the Eastons deal with their grief, but he was not going to leave Emerson alone with her pain.
He could tell something was wrong the moment he saw her. There was an anger in her eyes that mirrored how he felt most days. A gnawing frustration that plagued him. Every. Fucking. Day. The loss never left him. He’d replayed his mother’s death hundreds of times, but always changing the outcome. The paramedics had saved her. He envisioned her one of the region’s top prosecutors. Or, or maybe she’d retired early to spend time with her grandchildren.
Those fantasies only fueled his anger. His mother was dead and no fucking daydream could change that. The only ounce of justice he would garner would be hunting down and killing the motherfucker who took her life.
He strode out of the ballroom and into the quiet hallway. No Emerson. She wasn’t at the nearby bar. He spotted the restroom sign and headed in that direction.
After opening the door, he called out, “Emerson, you in here?”
“Yes.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
He found her at the sink and glanced to make sure the stalls were empty. “You okay?”
“Just needed some air.”
The brief flash of anguish in her eyes wasn’t lost on him. “You wanna talk about it?”
“This is a tough night for me,” she said.
“What can I do to help get you through it?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing anyone can do. My brother should be one of the officers being honored. Instead, he’ll be mentioned in passing.” She broke eye contact. “Like his sacrifice didn’t matter. Like his service didn’t count.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I see the contempt in your eyes,” she whispered. “I know you resent me. And I get it. And now, you have to help me solve these cases. Nothing like teaming with the enemy to really piss you off.”
“Emerson, stop.”
Silence.
“We can’t change what happened between us,” Stryker continued. “Sometimes life is fucking cruel. I haven’t been making this easy on you. I hold grudges. It’s part of my charm.” He gave in to a quick smile. “C’mon. Let’s get through this event.”
She didn’t budge. “I believed the sex worker who told me you were running the prostitution ring out of your club. I didn’t question her again. I didn’t push her for the truth. I jumped to a conclusion and I made a colossal mistake. I’m a better detective because of it, but I’m very sorry I made your life so difficult.”
Stryker wasn’t about forgiveness. He was about revenge, but he would make the effort for Emerson. “Forgiven.”
