Chapter Text
Unsettled breaths hissed through the teeth that were clamped over her lip. The hospital cast a long shadow over the parking lot, multiplying the chill of the evening. Her stiff fingers dug into the corners of her pocket, shivering more from urgency than from the cold. Finally, she numbly gripped the Canadian dollar. She could hardly feel the grooves of the coin’s design as she desperately rubbed it. The warm smiles and hugs of a family reunited already felt distant as the unease she had been so professionally hiding began to seep out.
Meryl threw the door open and curled into the safety of her car. The Canadian dollar began to writhe away from her slickening grip as her breathing picked up. She tried to bring herself back to a state of calm control, but it fell out of reach just beyond her fingertips. She kept reaching and grasping for it, sinking lower in the seat and praying that no one else could see her.
She brought her arms tightly against her chest and held the Canadian dollar against her lips.
“Everything will be okay and nobody gets hurt.” She had to tug the words out. “Everything will be okay and nobody gets hurt. Everything will be okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut, whispering a final entreaty. “ Please .”
Gazing one last time at the coin, Meryl put it back in her pocket and sat up. Though still shaky, she buckled her seatbelt and started the car. She pressed her cool sleeve into her face and blew out the remaining puffs of infested air before she felt ready.
Meryl nodded toward the hospital, sending off a pledge to Percy that she would accomplish what she’d promised, before pulling out of the parking lot and driving toward the precinct.
***
“Wait, wait! That’s the button to whistle!”
“Gah! I don’t know what all these buttons do!”
“Run, run! The whole camp noticed you and I don’t think you can beat them!”
As Ramsey played his game with Molly coaching him over his shoulder, Percy stood up for a gentle stretch. She was sore from the night’s activities, but didn’t want to push herself too much. Her fresh scars stung from even her limited movements. Walking to the small window, she looked out over the wide hospital parking lot. She noticed a certain officer in a white coat get into her car and saw no more movement until the car lumbered out of the parking lot after a few minutes of stillness. This case was stressful for everyone involved, one of the more action-packed ones that typical officers only participated in a few times over their careers. Eros always whined about certain cases giving him ulcers, something or other, but this might have actually been the case to do him in.
One thing in particular that Percy was worried about was Meryl. It couldn’t have felt like “just another job” with the dredging up of old memories better left as a speck in the distance. It was difficult enough for her to move on from back when it happened, but seeing the perpetrator again? Percy was going to keep a close watch on her.
***
Meryl pocketed her Canadian dollar as she strode through the doors of the Sweet Jazz City Police Department. A few officers briefly greeted her, looking about ready to clock out. They were all scrambling to finish up the reports of several small problems conglomerating into one big problem that was nearly unbearable to organize. Even when the police had done their part, it would still be months before it would feel final. The lawyers would have to pick over the reports like vultures over a carcass and squawk back and forth over what should be done with the convicts.
As for Meryl, she was ready to start on something new. Another case. More than just another case. It was destiny, or perhaps her birthright, written into the foundation of the world that she would be the one to bring an end to Jasper Maddox.
She drew herself up to her full height, composing her face of hard lines. Despite her facade, her heart began to pulse faster and she willed herself not to grab the coin in her pocket. She used her card to unlock a thick door and came to the single holding cell in the back of the precinct. The guard gave her a nod and stepped aside.
Meryl had to squeeze her eye shut before she was ready to see him. Furrowing her brow, she opened it again. Behind the bars sat Maddox. He had his arms braced on his knees as he stared across the cement floor. His once trim appearance was disheveled. His suit jacket sat unevenly across his wide shoulders, his hair was no longer combed back, a drop of blood was dried on his dimming wingtip shoes. A bloodied bandage was wrapped around his head. His large, cuffed hands were clasped together. The same hands that strangled and slashed Meryl all those years ago.
Morez sat on the opposite bench. Both glared in the proximity of the other, but were each unwilling to make eye contact.
As Meryl came to a stop in front of the cell, Maddox looked up as if to say whaddya want? And at first, she wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that. She wanted justice, one less piece of garbage on the streets. But deep in her stomach, she wanted more. Not just for the crimes to be tied up with a neat little bow. More. She didn’t have to think about how to answer for too long.
“Here to kick me while I’m down, I see,” Maddox said. His narrowed eyes shifted to Meryl’s feet.
That’s all it took before Meryl was quivering with anger. She could feel heat pounding at her face like she was standing too close to a bonfire. Fire that consumed and destroyed, that left its irreparable scars on its victim for the rest of time. She could almost taste the bitter ash in the back of her throat. “I’m just here to deliver some news. We’ll be moving both of you to the prison tomorrow morning where you will be provided an attorney unless you wish to supply your own.”
“I have a guy,” Maddox spat. “Someone competent, unlike your government-provided ones that are bent on making you plead guilty.”
Morez hissed at that remark. It seemed that she would not have the same advantages as her ex.
“Don’t think that you’ll pay your way out of your sentence this time,” Meryl said. She folded her arms and could feel the raised bumps of her scars through her coat. “The man you shot? He’s my friend. You won’t get off so easily as you did with me and I’ll make sure of it.”
Maddox just smirked. “You stood in my way once already. Cross me again and you’ll regret it.” He finally raised his eyes to hers with a carnivorous gleam. “I’ll make sure of it. Now, don’t expect me to say anything more without an attorney.” He turned away to resume his intense staring at the concrete.
“I look forward to every court date to come. Speaking of… Morez. You’ll be coming with me for a few minutes, unless you want a lawyer as well.”
Luciana Morez popped up from her bench as if she already knew what she was needed for and would happily comply. The guard opened the cell and carefully locked it behind her, gripping her shoulder as they followed Meryl to an interrogation room. The guard sat Morez at the lone table and left to find some other officers to watch from the adjoining room, separated by a one-way mirror. She soon heard a rap on the door to let her know that the recording equipment was ready.
Just as Meryl sat down in one of the cold, plastic chairs, Morez flashed a bright, rehearsed grin. Even with eraser cuffs, some of the adjunct habits of her epithet showed through.
“Let’s just cut out the formalities, shall we?” Morez asked. “I already know that you want the insider’s scoop on the crimes of Jasper Maddox. Because, if I’m not mistaken, you’re that same young cop that was the reason for his only stay in prison three years ago.”
“Bingo,” Meryl said flatly, closely watching the woman’s features.
Morez leaned back in her chair, looking up as reminiscing. “That’s just before we finally got divorced. It was the first time he had actually been arrested, so he shoved some cash into everyone’s face to get the lightest sentence possible, made me post his bail so that something like that wouldn’t show up in his banking records, and then changed his name as if he could erase that blemish on his unsolved crimes and opened his bank. Of course, it was my sweet smile that pulled a lot of that together. Something to do with my epithet, whatever it is.”
Meryl nodded, trying not to think too much about that time of her life. “Now, let’s talk about—”
“Not so fast,” Morez said, holding up her finger. At least as high as she could, considering her hands were cuffed to the table. “Sure, I want the old bastard’s karma to blow up in his face, but I don’t work for free. What’s in it for me?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll reward you for your helpfulness.”
“‘Kay, what’s my reward?”
It was hard to hand out rewards when she didn’t even know what she would be rewarding. Hopefully, she would be rewarding legitimate, detailed leads. “We can work out a comfortable arrangement once we investigate the leads you provide.”
“Hm, that won’t work on me,” Morez chuckled. “I want the comfortable arrangement up front or I won’t talk.”
Geez, some people treated their testimony like it was their own copyrighted intellectual property. “Okay, we can bargain now if you insist,” Meryl said. She knew that the Sergeant was a bit of a tightwad with these things and would be eagerly awaiting to hear the results of the interrogation soon after. “For your complete cooperation, how about we shorten your sentence by a year, whatever it may be?”
The woman sighed, knowing she couldn’t hope for much more. “That’s pathetic. I guess it’s too much to ask for a full acquittal?”
A delusion worthy of certifiable insanity, maybe. “Um, yeah. Maybe we can do something more proportional to the help you provide.” Meryl thought for a second. “If we acquit you of all involvement you may be found to have in the thefts that Maddox committed, then that will save you a lot of trials after this one.” Meryl nearly chuckled aloud. Sure, that kind of deal sure sounded nice, and maybe it would be the deal of the century for someone else, but in the case of Luciana Morez… Well, if she got off with anything less than a life sentence for what had transpired in the last few weeks alone, she would have to count herself extremely lucky.
Morez nodded slowly. “I like the sound of that. But can’t we add on something more about what happened last night?”
Morez was sure trying to ask a lot before the truthfulness of her claims were even verified. Meryl had to hold back a sigh. “You’re gonna have a real hard time trying to pull that off. We have a dozen cops that caught you red-handed and the Arietta jury wouldn’t take too kindly to a murder disturbing the peace of their small town.”
“But how do they know that it was really me that—”
“We have strong circumstantial evidence for the murder, not to mention what will come of the in-depth investigation that’s currently underway.”
“And what about—”
“I literally saw you throw a bomb at me.”
Morez sucked on her teeth. She couldn’t find a way around that, even if she had use of her epithet at the time.
“So,” Meryl said, grinning and slapping her hands together, “you’re going to take what you’ve got and we can get started?”
Her red lips puckered like she tasted a sour lemon. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you what I know.”
Throwing a brief glance to the one-way mirror, Meryl returned her face to an expression serious and impenetrable. With unbreakable focus, Meryl watched her interviewee’s face. Every shift of the deadened gaze, every curl of the lips, every flex of the muscles. Nothing would escape her notice. If there was a single clue that could give away furtive lies or veiled truths, she would find it.
“Let’s start in chronological order. Tell me everything you know about these heists,” Meryl said.
“I only know of the ones that happened while we were married. He never let me see his loot. He didn’t trust me,” she growled through clenched teeth. “He was scared that I would use my epithet and steal it for myself, so he kept me in my neat little box and only pulled me out when I would be useful to him!”
To be fair, Meryl would have willingly listened to all her complaints, like simmering together in shared hatred for the man. But there was no time for that and Meryl’s patience was running out after so many hours without sleep. “How did he use you?”
There was a flicker of pain or maybe fury in her eyes. “There are three heists that occurred over our marriage, and I was assigned as the getaway driver, lookout, and occasional sweet talker.” She glanced across Meryl’s face. “Three doesn’t seem like much, but these things took months or sometimes a year of planning before they would do it.”
“You say ‘they,’” Meryl said. “I assume that means there were more people involved?”
“Two. He needed one for tech and one for security. Never even saw their faces. One was tall and slender with tan skin, dark eyes, and dove gray hair. All I know is that they were the electrician and knew their way around computers. The other one was muscular with long purple hair and light skin. She barely spoke, had bifocal glasses, and could crush a little cop like you,” Morez said.
Meryl built a mental picture with the slim description. For whatever reason, she imagined both of them with unpleasant sneers. “Who are they?”
Her gaze shot to the table. “I don’t know their names or how they’re related to Jasper. I was never told.”
That had to have been a lie. Morez seemed to know an awful lot about their features for never having seen their faces. Meryl waited for anything more, both of them remaining silent. She didn’t want to press too hard in case it scared Morez into holding back information, yet she wanted to lay the pressure on. Firm and steady, not too sudden. There would be plenty of time for Morez to reveal more later on, but Meryl wanted her to sweat a little under the spotlight.
Morez shifted in discomfort so subtly that Meryl might have missed it if she blinked. The woman flipped her hair to cover it up and finally continued speaking. Apparently, the accomplices would remain in mystery for now. “Anyway, here’s the stuff you really need to know.” Morez leaned in a bit, inviting Meryl to do the same.
Meryl did so, although this wasn’t a private conversation in any way.
Morez’s gaze slid into Meryl’s face like she was about to spill some hot gossip. “Nine years ago, the Sweet Jazz Museum. Six years ago, the Chanson Treasury Bank. Four years ago, some storage and shipping facility just outside the business district of town.”
“Places and rough dates? That’s a great start—”
“That’s all I know.”
Meryl used all the control she had to keep her face blank. That’s all? That couldn’t be all. She only motioned for Morez to continue.
“I was kept in the dark about what all happened and your memory gets hazy after all that time,” Morez explained, as if somehow reading the surprise from her interviewer.
“No, I’m sure that you remember more,” Meryl urged. “You don’t need to tell me all about the robberies, just what you saw with your own eyes.” She pointed to her head. “Go back in your memory like you’re reliving it. Try to tell me every action, every detail that you can, even if it seems insignificant.”
Morez squeezed her eyes shut, trying to draw the memories out. “He told me early on that he was part of some crime ring, but he paid my living expenses, so I was fine with it even though we fought. The night of the first heist, he told me that he needed my help. Had me drive a black van. The two accomplices met us nearby our condo, wearing dark clothes and masks. Jasper and I got dressed up in black too. After that, we got in the truck and drove to some parking lot near the museum around midnight. He told me to look out for anyone that might interfere and convince them to leave. Two hours later, they were loading up a bunch of bulging trash bags and we took off downtown and parked on some random street. They took the bags somewhere I didn’t see.
“The second heist,” Morez continued, “was a lot like the first one. The night of, he asked me to drive an ugly brown van and basically do the same thing. No idea where the car came from. That time, I parked in an alley near the Chanson Treasury Bank. This time, they had me distract the guards with my epithet. They came back a few hours later, each only holding one trash bag.” Morez groaned and rolled her eyes. “Jasper tracked mud or something in the car, which he had to throw a tantrum over because one of the others made him trip into it. Then we went somewhere downtown again.
“The final heist, we drove in an old maroon van. The only interesting thing I remember happening was that all the boxes didn’t fit in the back. Everyone was getting frantic to leave because dawn was approaching, so they decided to just leave the back doors open. I think I hit something with the open door as I was backing out, but we were in such a hurry that we didn’t stop to check. We were worried that a cop would pull us over, but we were lucky and didn’t run into any and took it all downtown again.” Morez shrugged, having exhausted the extent of her memory.
Meryl was already planning how she could track some information down. It felt almost impossible considering how these details were years old and it was all she could do to keep her discouragement hidden. “That’s great, thank you. Keep thinking on it and let us know if you remember something new. Later, we’ll have you ride with an officer so you can describe things and possibly find this downtown location.”
Morez sighed. “Too bad I don’t know more. The only heist I really know well was the one that took place three years ago. It was all over the news, so of course you already know about it too,” she said, pointing to Meryl’s eye patch.
For the first time in a long time, Meryl felt self-consciousness creep up her arms and she almost turned her face away. She could remember the stares, the raw wounds, feeling the need to wear a giant sign explaining her situation to everyone so that she wouldn’t have to imagine the judgmental thoughts of every stranger that she would never see again anyway. The coals in her stomach burned.
Meryl almost urged Morez to go on about the heist of three years prior. If she felt so much pain, she wanted to know why. Why? The words pushed at her lips and teeth, trying to pry them to open. Do you know why he did it? Why did he attack me when he could have left me?
Morez leaned back in her chair, ready to finish the interrogation. “Welp, that’s all I’ve got, unless… you have something else to ask.”
“N-no. If that’s all the useful information you have to share, then we’re done.” Meryl stood as the guard returned to the room to take Morez.
The woman grumbled as the guard pushed her out the door, probably because his rough hands were going to ruin her perfect beach waves.
“Oh, and by the way.” Both Morez and the guard turned back as Meryl spoke. “Do us a favor and don’t tell Maddox what we interviewed you about.” Meryl casually smiled, but hoped the others didn’t see how tightly she was gripping the back of her chair. “If he doesn’t know, then we might be able to snap up some incriminating evidence before he has the chance to pull any strings.”
The woman grinned back. “It would be my pleasure.”
Meryl watched her leave before walking out the door. She was surprised to see Eros arrive from the room adjoined to the interrogation room. He beckoned for her to follow as he walked back to his office.
“Medic. You’re still here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
She wasn’t sure why he would have expected anything else. “Reporting for duty.”
“Hm.” Eros returned his gaze straight ahead as he walked into his office and sat in his chair. Folders and loose papers were sprawled across the mahogany and Meryl couldn’t tell if there was any organization to them. “Thought you would’ve left by now, but I heard that you were conducting an interrogation, so I just had to watch the drama unfold. It was rather anticlimactic. I could tell you were disappointed.”
“No kidding,” Meryl said. She was hoping for some really solid leads, but hey, she would be able to work with it. “Anyway, I just left earlier to check on Percy and Ramsey.”
“Mm, staying frosty, I presume?”
“As much as they can be.”
Eros squinted at his computer, which showed partially filled data in the evidence management system. “Killers and bombers and thieves, oh my. What a mess,” he muttered. “I thought I wouldn’t see you ‘till your next shift, but since you’re here…” He fished his nightstick out of his belt and stood. “With the power vested in me, I name you,” he said, tapping each of her shoulders with the nightstick, “lead detective on the Jasper Maddox cold case unit. I grant you access to whatever resources you need without inhibiting normal police functions. Now sally forth on swift wings and do me proud.”
This is what she had been waiting for, the case she was raring to get started on. It was more than just an assignment, though. To her, it was her assignment, like it was her unique responsibility to prove to Maddox that she wasn’t weak and she wasn’t going to be a victim. She grinned and said, “Oh, I guarantee I’ll do more than that.”
Eros plunked himself back down at his computer. “Can’t wait to see it.” He paused then peered at her over his sunglasses. “You’re alright with this, right? You’ll be okay?”
Sometimes the guy could be so confusing. “Um, what do you mean? I accepted the assignment.”
“It’s not too personal, is it?”
It took Meryl a second to process what he even said. Of course it was personal, but that only made her the perfect detective for the case. But it wasn’t like she was going to become obsessed with revenge, ruin the case, and end up in jail herself like Eros seemed to be suggesting. She was nothing like Morez. Well, maybe that was a dramatized version of what Eros was asking, but she still did not want to be questioned. “You know that I’ll take this job seriously.”
He shrugged. “Okay, if you say so. I trust you’ll probably exceed my extremely high expectations like you somehow manage to do on occasion.” Eros resumed his typing.
“Exactly! So, what do you want me working on now, Sarge?”
“Eh, going home.”
She frowned. “You don’t have anything that I could help with finishing up?”
“What, you want me to order you to go home?”
Meryl pressed her lips together as nothing but the clacking continued. Well, she was tired. Really tired. But she couldn’t stand the thought of leaving when there could be at least something she could do to nail the coffin closed on the unhappy couple. “Are you sure there’s not a teensy tiny thing I could finish up before I go?”
“You haven’t slept in 48 hours, your best friend is in the hospital, and you’ve been working on the reports for this shit show all day. I think you’re done.”
Meryl chuckled at the blatant hypocrisy. “You haven’t slept either.”
“Bossman doesn’t sleep ‘till the work is done. His subordinates, however, work at his discretion and Bossman says that the Medic needs rest. But if you’re really dyin’ to do something—” he rolled his chair to the filing cabinet behind him and grabbed a bloated file sitting atop it “—then file this and begone.”
“On it, Bossman ,” she said, rolling her eye at the nickname. That was a new one. Meryl took the file and casually flipped through it as she stepped out of the office.
Eros waggled a finger as she left. “Now, I better not see you again until Friday or else I’ll drag you to your apartment myself. I’ll have you know that I can bench—”
“225 pounds,” Meryl finished. Yep, she had heard this before.
“My max being 245, need I remind you. That’s like, I dunno, one and three quarters of a Meryl.” He flexed subtly as he returned to his typing, but Meryl knew him well enough to know that he was totally showing off.
“Don’t you worry, I’ll be quick,” she said, waving the hefty folder.
“Great. Toodle-oo.”
With it being official, it felt like she was cupping her life’s calling in the palms of her hands. And when she said she’d do something, boy did Meryl Lockhart deliver. She made her way to the evidence room with shelves from floor to ceiling and drawers that were ridiculously heavy and squealed when pulled out. She found the correct drawer for the folder and shoved it in, having to rock it back and forth to work it inside. She’d have to get used to this sort of thing. This room would probably be her main hub of operations for a while.
As she left, she took one last look down the hall that led to the holding cell. She felt the strongest feeling of revulsion and knew that she had to keep it from getting too personal, just like Eros said. She shook her head as she walked out of the doors of the precinct, trying to hide her budding tears from the other officers. She hated feeling weak. She hated this burning anger. She hated feeling like she wasn’t in control. As she drove home, she stared intently ahead, not really seeing what was in front of her. Thoughts flew rapidly through her mind like fine china shattering against a wall. The shards of glass clattered in her skull and piled in her vision, all reflecting his face. Meryl squeezed the wheel in a white-knuckled grip, trying to calm her shaky breaths. Geez, she just couldn’t get a grip. When she arrived at her apartment, it was only a little after eight o’clock, but her eye felt like a crusty raisin, so she decided to just get ready for bed.
“Everything will be okay, she whispered to herself, giving the Canadian dollar a squeeze. “Just stay calm and I’ll feel better in the morning.” She drank a cup of juice then changed her clothes and brushed her teeth numbly, her mind still dwelling in front of the holding cell at the precinct.
Turning the lights off, she set the Canadian dollar on her desk. It caught the light from the street lamps outside, just a small stream between the curtains. Bidding it a good night, she laid down in her bed and set her glasses on the window sill. Despite all her wriggling, she ached everywhere and couldn’t get comfortable. Thoughts of her assignment turned over and over in her mind, interrupted by searing memories. Why did those keep coming back? For the weeks after the event, that was all she could think about, but she eventually got to the point where it didn’t bother her anymore. Now, seeing the man that did it again, horrific thoughts came back to bombard her. The inside of her head itched and she just couldn’t stop ruminating.
Maybe solving the mystery would bring her closure. This assignment was big. Something she could not fail. Then finally the internal torment could stop.
Ba-dum-ba-dum-ba-dum…
Meryl’s body stiffened into a plank until she realized that sound wasn’t running footsteps, only the sound of her heart pounding. Still, hoarfrost rushed down her back and her ears magnified her auditory input, sucking in every distant sound from the street noise to the nearly inaudible buzz of electricity. Her pulse sent sweltering heat across her body. Her hands twitched, poised instinctively over her taser only to remember that her belt was stashed away in her closet. She wished her heart could quiet down so she could better hear her surroundings, but it kept writhing uncomfortably in her chest. It was probably nothing, it was probably nothing, it was probably nothing.
Dm-dm-dm-dm-dm-dm-dm-dm-dm-dm-dm…
The throbbing was excruciating as her ribcage squeezed her thrashing heart and her limbs shook and seized so hard that her muscles were surely crushing her bones. Weight settled over her. She opened her eye and choked on her breath when she saw a masked man kneeling over her with a box cutter, blade shining and blood dripping and the icy stench of malevolence soaking into her. She watched the sickening sight, unable to move, focused on the man’s bloodied fingers.
“GET OFF GET OFF!” she screamed as she swung her fists and scrambled out of bed. She tossed away her blankets as if they were burning her and collapsed to the ground. Blood in her bed sheets, blood in her clothes, blood in the fibers of the carpet inches from her face. She clawed for the light switch, having difficulty hitting the blurry white mass barely distinguishable from the dark walls. Finally, she got it and turned around, heaving large gulps of air. There was nothing there. No one. She crept to the window sill, only then noticing that it was sweat covering her shirt, not blood. Electric currents pulsed through her as she grabbed at her glasses, each attempt failing until she could wrap her quivering fingers around them and shove them on. The room felt like it was billowing with hot steam, so she stepped back into her kitchen, lying on the cool tiles.
Not here, not here , she finally managed to think. Her mind was a muddy pit. She must have looked ridiculous, preparing for a life-or-death battle while wearing a pink Sailor Moon shirt and booty shorts. Yeah, she was a grown woman, so what was that all about? She was too old to be afraid of the dark like that. Yet when she sat up and looked into the depths of her bedroom, her stomach felt like it was being crushed at the bottom of the ocean.
She swallowed hard, lying down on the couch instead and leaving the light down the hall on. Every time she tried to get to sleep, she could feel the blade cutting into her face again and would jolt awake.
When morning came, she felt better, sure, but she didn’t feel back to normal. For the rest of her time off, she couldn’t stop replaying that odd panicked episode in her head. It would take her twenty minutes to realize she was staring blankly at the wall before she would reach for the Canadian dollar in her pocket, hoping it would refill the hollow chasm in her chest.