Badge of Respect Chapters

Author of Page-Turning fiction

ONE

Cassie looked at her Maurice Lacroix watch as she pushed open the gym door. The anticipation building inside her was like nothing she had ever felt before.

“I can’t believe you’ll be gone an entire month,” Jill said as she tossed her gym bag over her shoulder. “No wonder you’ve been putting in extra hours at the gym.”

“Yeah, right!” Andrea said belligerently. “Cassie has been a perfect size three for the five years I’ve known her.”

Cassie tensed at Andrea’s backhanded compliment. Even though her friend was right, no one knew the real reason Cassie worked so hard to maintain her perfect figure.

No. Don’t go there. Things are better now.

“Tell me again where you’ll be going?” Jill asked as they crossed the parking lot.

“Ireland, London, Spain, Italy, and Switzerland,” Cassie listed, excited just thinking about it. “Then we’re taking a ten-day cruise down the Rhine through France and Germany. After that, we go to Amsterdam where we’ll be staying in a penthouse suite overlooking the Amstel River.”

“I’ve seen brochures for those river cruises,” Jill said. “They’re not like those massive cruise ships with tennis courts, water parks, and screaming kids running everywhere. They’re sophisticated and romantic. They attract a completely different clientele.”

“And Mark insisted we book the most expensive suite on the ship. It has its own wraparound balcony, a spacious sitting area, and gorgeous furnishings. It’s going to be incredible.”

“But why go now? It’s going to be cold this time of year.”

Textbook Andrea. If there was a negative, she was sure to find it. “Because this was the best time for Mark’s schedule. Besides, we will be indoors a lot of the time, touring museums and art galleries, exploring restaurants and cafés. And when we’re on the ship, we will be snuggling together on the balcony of our amazing suite watching the scenery pass by. It will be quiet and intimate. Just what we need.”

“I could never talk Dan into something like that,” Andrea whined as she passed her foot under the back bumper of her Mercedes. “Last year, his idea of a grand vacation was a trip to the Bahamas with a business meeting sandwiched in the middle.” She dropped her gym bag in the trunk, then passed her foot again. “I already told him I’m going to Italy this year without him. And, the money I save by leaving his workaholic butt at home is going to buy me a whole new wardrobe.”

“You’re not actually going by yourself, are you?” Jill asked.

“No, I’m taking my sister. I need someone to count my drinks and keep me in line, so I don’t do something reckless.”

Jill and Andrea continued to debate the finer points of the perfect vacation while Cassie’s thoughts turned inward. She was both nervous and excited about their upcoming trip. Not only was it a dream vacation, but it would give Mark and her a fresh start—a chance she never would have imagined possible just a year ago.

“Cassie!”

She flinched, not realizing she had tuned out her friends kibitzing. “Sorry, Andrea, my brain is all over the place today. What did you say?”

“I asked—for the third time—when do you leave?”

“Ahh . . . tonight. I have some last-minute errands to run this morning, then I’m going to surprise Mark at work with lunch.”

“What’s he doing at work on a Saturday? Especially the Saturday before vacation?” Andrea asked.

“He’s been putting in extra hours these last few weeks, tying up loose ends and making sure his VIP clients are evenly divided among his associates. I’m hoping by the time I get there; I can persuade him to leave early.”

Jill squealed with excitement. “How exciting! You’re going to have such an amazing time. Take lots of pictures.”

“Of landmarks,” Andrea clarified with a dry laugh. “I don’t want to see a complete pictorial of what you did while you were gone. There is only so much you should share with your friends.”

Jill laughed while Cassie blushed at Andrea’s outrageous comment. Exchanging hugs all around, Cassie hurried to her car feeling giddy and excited, and all the things she hadn’t felt for so long.

Okay, Cassie said to herself as she pulled out from Fitness Sphere’s parking lot and into the stream of traffic. First the nail salon, then the cleaners, then lunch with Mark. Please, please, please, let him be willing to leave early. She knew she was taking a risk; Mark did not like it when she showed up at the office unexpectedly. He’d ranted on more than one occasion how unprofessional it looked when wives showed up unannounced and distracted their husbands when they should be working. But since it was a Saturday, and none of the partners should be there, Cassie figured it wouldn’t be that big a deal.

I’ll play it by ear. If he’s too busy, I’ll just drop off lunch and go. Besides, I’ll have him all to myself for a whole month without work monopolizing his time. What’s one more afternoon?

Cassie waited for the traffic signal to turn green, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

What if he’s engrossed in a deal? Or meeting with one of his partners? I don’t want to upset him by interrupting. Maybe I should call?

“Call Mark’s phone,” she said to her voice control, but before it connected, she canceled it. “Where’s the fun or spontaneity in that?” No. I just won’t ask him to leave. I’ll bring lunch, no strings attached.

In the ten minutes it took Cassie to drive to the nail salon, she changed her mind half a dozen times regarding lunch.

Why am I acting like this? Things are different now. Mark has changed.

Cassie shuddered, an emotional trigger whenever her thoughts traveled to darker times. Mark’s work had been a major obstacle in their marriage, but it was not the most hazardous.

Shake it off. Dwell on the good, not the bad.

It had been her mantra for the last year.

Only the good.

Cassie thought back to the first time she’d seen Mark. She’d been in New York three years and had just started working the late shift at an all-night café. It was only her second night on the job when Mark strolled in looking like a fashion model straight from a photo shoot. His deep complexion, coffee-colored eyes, and charismatic smile mesmerized her, and the designer silk suit he wore had suave sophistication written all over it. But Rachel—one of the other waitresses—gave her the quick 411 on him. Business office around the corner. Routinely stopped in on his way home. A major workaholic. Always ordered a Black Tie to go. Never had time to sit down.

But that night, Mark’s routine changed. He went out of his way to introduce himself to her, then sat at the table she was clearing and struck up a conversation. It was the first of many.

Night after night, Mark showed up at the café, sat in Cassie’s station, and swapped stories with her. His stories were all about business; hers were about art school and crazy customers. Cassie found him charming, and his commanding presence filled the room, but never once did she consider Mark might be interested in her. He was so far out of her league it wasn’t even funny. She just figured they were sharing polite conversation, anecdotes about their day, nothing more.

But soon enough, Mark invited her out. The first time he did, it caught her completely off guard. She deflected his invitation to a business function, using her hectic schedule as an excuse. She explained that juggling school, work, and her studies allowed no time for a social life. Mark accepted her refusal with a gracious smile but insisted he would ask her out again. Cassie wrote it off as harmless flirting. He was a gorgeous businessman, wealthy, and probably had supermodels on speed-dial. She, on the other hand, was just a third-year art student, barely making ends meet. She knew the novelty of their relationship would eventually wear off, and when it did, he would go back to spending time with his high-end friends, and she would go on being a barista until the art community discovered her talent.

Then he asked her out again.

When she refused a second time, he asked if their age difference bothered her. She assured him age was just a number. Even so, when she found out he was nine years her senior, she was shocked. Never would she had guessed he was that much older than her. Clearly, he wore his age as easily as his Tommy Hilfiger ties.

Two months into their nightly repartee, Cassie finally conceded. Mark showed up later than usual and proceeded to tell her about his latest venture. She sat down at the end of her shift and completely lost track of time. When she realized they had talked the night away, and there was no way she could make it to class on time, Mark convinced her to play hooky. Laughingly, he claimed it was a sign they were meant to spend the day together. His smile was so engaging, so charming; she agreed to go.

From that day on, they spent every spare moment together. At first, their dates were simple. But soon, movie dates turned into Broadway openings. Hot dog cart dinners in the park evolved into fancy dinners at five-star restaurants. And when Cassie embarrassingly explained she didn’t have the wardrobe for some of his favorite haunts, packages from swanky boutiques showed up at her apartment.

Cassie soon realized Mark wasn’t only wealthy, but influential. No matter the restaurant or the time, not a dinner went by without someone walking over to their table to shake Mark’s hand or give him a pat on the back. Even women would interrupt their candle-lit dinners to make time with Mark. Cassie found these intrusions awkward and intimidating. It was obvious these women were flirting with Mark, and at times, he seemed a little too accommodating, kindling insecurities in Cassie. But Mark assured her it took different kinds of grease to keep the wheels of business turning, and she had nothing to worry about.

But Cassie did worry. She knew Mark wanted to take their relationship to the next level. After all, he was a thirty-year-old man, not a college junior. And as much as Cassie liked to think of herself as a rebel—leaving home at an early age, striking out on her own, turning her back on the do’s and don’ts of her childhood—she couldn’t shake the conversations she’d had with her mother regarding abstinence and intimacy. Her mother had challenged Cassie not to sacrifice her virginity for anything short of amazing, passionate, lasting love, and never to confuse love with sex. And even though Cassie hated her mother for leaving her, she was afraid if she disregarded her advice altogether, the memories of her mother would evaporate, and she would have nothing left.

Until Mark, abstinence had been a non-issue. She was in New York for one reason, and one reason only: her art career. That was her main focus. That and a job to pay for the expenses not covered by her scholarship. She’d been driven and had stayed on course, and Mark respected the boundaries she had laid down.

Until the night he took her home.

They had been dating for two months before Mark took her to his Fifth Avenue apartment. That was when she realized the extent of his wealth. Mark’s apartment wasn’t on the twenty-fifth floor. It was the twenty-fifth floor.

The penthouse.

When the elevator doors opened, she stepped directly into the entryway of Mark’s lavish, magazine perfect apartment. The view, the architecture, the decor, everything fit together flawlessly.

Immediately, Cassie felt out of place in the opulent surroundings. She didn’t feel she had what it took to fit into Mark’s world. She was a nobody from a no-nothing town. She didn’t come from a prestigious family, have a career, or even a degree. In fact, she had missed so many classes in the last two months—because of time spent with Mark—she had dropped out of art school before they could kick her out. She gave the associate dean an elaborate story about complications with an ongoing health issue. And since she had a stellar record with a promising future—according to one of her professors—she was given the semester off to take care of her health without jeopardizing her scholarship.

But standing in Mark’s elaborate penthouse, knowing the elite circles he traveled in, Cassie wondered if she would ever be able to measure up.

“What do you think?” Mark moved closer, staring at her with his warm brown eyes.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said as he gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

She wanted to believe him, wanted to belong in his world.

“Here, I’ll show you around.” Mark reached for her hand and gave her a tour. From the terrace balcony, to his richly paneled study, to the gourmet kitchen, everything in Mark’s apartment was done on a grand scale. Then they walked the marble hall that led to the master suite. Mark opened the double doors, and Cassie nervously looked around, knowing she shouldn’t be there.

Mark stepped closer. “I want to share my life with you, Cassie. I want to give you all of this.” Then, dipping his head to the nape of her neck, he uttered his ultimate desire. “I want all of you.”

Cassie’s inhibitions slid to the floor along with the silk dress Mark slipped from her shoulders. That night she had made a decision. She would never go back to the town of Liberty, her efficiency apartment, or the world of Cassidy Martin. She would only move forward into the world of Mark Grayson.

As she lay awake that first night, Mark pressed against her back, she struggled with what she’d done. Her mother’s words taunted her. The self-deprecating barbs from her conscience condemned her. She muffled her cries, turmoil and resentment churning inside her, giving way to anger.

If you cared, Mom, you wouldn’t have left me. You and your god abandoned me a long time ago. It’s my life, and I am going to live it how I want to. You can’t tell me what to do anymore. I’m a grown woman. I will make my own choices. And I choose Mark.

Cassie moved in with him the very next day.

TWO

“Okay, Cassie, you’re all set,” the manicurist said with a smile.

Cassie looked up, realizing she’d been daydreaming. Withdrawing her newly polished fingertips from the drying contraption, she stood, carefully laying her purse strap over her shoulder. “Thanks, Amy. I’ll see you next month.”

“Yes, you will, and I’m going to want to hear all about your trip.”

“Deal.” Cassie smiled, then headed to the new BMW Mark had surprised her with the previous month. She slid into the supple leather interior already planning her next stop.

The dry cleaner, then Mark’s office for lunch.

As she drove, she couldn’t help but smile as she fantasized about all the fun things they would be doing in the weeks to come. A romantic walk along the Thames, a gondola ride at sunset, coffee and dessert at a French café.

It’s going to be perfect.

Rushing from the dry cleaner, Cassie carefully laid Mark’s cleaning on the back seat and made sure it was secured so it would not move around. She flinched involuntarily, remembering the time Mark shoved her to the bathroom floor and berated her because his suits got wrinkled. Stupid! That’s what you are, Cassie! The most important meeting of my career—of my life—and you expect me to wear this? He threw the crumpled suit on the tile floor, then pushed her face in it like a dog being punished.

Stop it! She scolded herself.

It’s different now. He’s changed.

She tried to shake off the negative memory, angry her conscience trampled her excitement and replaced it with doubt. But she couldn’t help it; the memory was strong.

It was the first time Mark had been violent with her.

The first time she saw the crack in his armor.

They’d been married less than a year when she realized there were two sides to Mark. The charmer—the man who won her heart, and the tyrant—the man who was controlling and abusive. She had learned fast what she needed to do to avoid the back-handed side of Mark’s temper. Unfortunately, she wasn’t always successful. However, over the last year, his dark moods had become a thing of the past. That’s why the second honeymoon—a chance at a fresh start.

Everything is going to be fine, she reassured herself as she drove to Mark’s favorite deli and picked up lunch.

Cassie entered the prestigious office building where Mark’s company leased a floor of suites. With her new Gucci sandals clacking on the marble tile, she crossed to the elevator banks, noticing the atrium and lobby weren’t nearly as crowded as they would be on any given weekday. Balancing the to-go box from the sandwich shop in one hand, she pressed the button for the twentieth floor with one of her newly polished fingers. The door immediately opened, and she stepped in. When the elevator doors reopened, Cassie rushed down the hallway, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. Barely containing her excitement, she swung open the large glass door with the name Gray and Sons etched on it. She always smiled at the play on words but hoped one day soon they would have a son who would follow in Mark’s footsteps. Hurrying to his office, she burst through the door and cheered, “Surprise!”

Mark quickly scrambled to his feet, leaving the woman he was entangled with on the couch. Cassie watched as he attempted to tuck in his shirt, then she turned and saw Amanda—his assistant—buttoning her blouse and straightening her hair.

Cassie stood, unbelieving, her hands shaking. Dropping the carton of food in the doorway, she stumbled backward out of Mark’s office and hurried toward the large glass double doors. Pushing through those, she bolted toward the elevator at the end of the hall. She heard Mark yelling at her to stop, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Once inside the elevator, she repeatedly pressed the Close button.

Close already. Come on, close.

Looking up, she saw Mark turn the corner and rush toward her. He was within inches of the elevator when the doors finally closed. She heard him shout a string of profanities, and bang against the closed door before the elevator started its descent. Pressing herself against the back wall, she tried to slow her breathing, but her heart raced so fast she felt like she was going to pass out. She bent over, fighting the pinpoints of light, but nausea crept up her throat threatening to explode onto her new sandals.

How could you, Mark? How could you do this to me?

The atrium. The lobby. The parking structure. They were all a blur as she hurried to get away. Her hands were shaking so bad, she fumbled with her key fob, dropping it on the cold cement. With quaking fingers, she picked it up and pressed the button. The taillights flashed, and the alarm chirped. Quickly, she pulled the door open and slid in. Just as she pushed the ignition button, her cell phone chimed. Mark. She wanted to answer it, scream at him all the questions running through her head, but she couldn’t do it. She did not want to hear his excuses. She did not want to give him a chance to explain. As far as she was concerned, there was no explanation. There was no excuse. Mark had played her for a fool, and she had been naïve enough to believe him.

Racing home, she nervously paced around their apartment like a caged animal. Crying hysterically, she felt like she was losing control of her body. Of her life. Of everything. When the phone rang, she ignored it. Knowing she had to get out of there before Mark came home, she hurried to their bedroom. There, at the foot of the bed, sat her already packed suitcases. Grabbing the collapsible handle of the largest one, she stacked the smaller suitcase on top, and threw the overnight bag over her shoulder. As she headed for the door, she heard Mark’s voice fill the living room.

“Cassie . . . Cassie, baby, let me talk to you. Come on, Cassie, pick up! Cassie!” he shouted. “Pick up the phone! Let me talk to you!” She stood like a zombie staring at the phone, terrified to move, terrified to defy Mark. But if she stayed, and allowed him the chance to explain, he would manipulate her like he had done so many times before. But how much worse would it be if she ran? He would find her. Then what? Cassie leaned against the elevator door, knowing she couldn’t stay, but afraid to leave.

Where can I go? I have nothing without Mark.

The courage she felt just seconds ago was gone. Dropping her overnight bag onto the floor, she backed away from the elevator. Then, from out of nowhere, she heard a whispered voice telling her to run. Startled, she swung around, expecting to find someone standing behind her. She scanned the living room and hall, but no one was there.

I imagined it.

Her mind was playing tricks on her. Stepping away from her luggage, she turned toward the bedroom.

Run, Cassidy. Go home!

There it was again. It had to be the voice inside her head. Her gut. Instinct. Whatever it was people called it. Or she was going crazy. Nevertheless, the urgency she felt that very second was empowering. Looking over her shoulder at the phone, she listened as Mark cursed and swore. “Don’t you dare defy me, Cassie! I’m warning you!”

Flinging her purse and carry-on over her shoulder, she pressed the elevator button. The doors opened immediately, and she quickly dragged her suitcases inside. She had nothing to say to Mark; nothing worth staying for. She had tried to make it work, tried to believe him, but his actions pretty much said it all.

She was done trying.

Driving proved difficult through the blur of tears. Cassie kept reliving, dissecting the last several months, questioning everything. She thought the change in Mark’s behavior was proof he cared. A rekindling of his love for her. A renewed dedication to their marriage. Now she realized the changes started about the same time Amanda was hired as his new assistant.

Cassie replayed the phone conversations she’d had with Amanda. They exchanged pleasantries and compliments like friends would. From time-to-time, Amanda encouraged Cassie to come by the office and steal Mark for lunch or even the rest of the day. She helped by clearing Mark’s calendar and freeing up his time. Cassie thought Amanda’s support and encouragement had been instrumental in the revitalization of their marriage. Now she realized nothing could be further from the truth. She wasn’t helping me; she was just making sure I didn’t stumble upon their escapades. How could I have been so stupid?

An hour later, Cassie found herself standing in the middle of JFK Airport, clueless what to do next. She had used a travel agent to book their trip, and before that, Mark had always taken care of their travel arrangements. The most she’d ever done is book a one-way flight to New York. Now she had to figure out how to take a first-class ticket to Ireland and exchange it for a destination stateside.

By the time Cassie had her ticket, made it through security, and found her gate, she was numb. She had walked from one end of the concourse to the other, fought with three different ticket agents, two supervisors, and a manager, insisting she didn’t care how much money she lost by transferring her ticket; she just needed it changed. And if that wasn’t enough, her phone vibrated in her purse every few minutes sending chills down her spine. And when it didn’t vibrate, she was terrified she would turn around and find Mark standing behind her. Now, with her phone in her hand, she ignored the list of calls from Mark and dialed a number she had pushed to the recesses of her mind. She waited, listening as the phone rang. When the familiar voice on the other end of the line said, “Hello,” she took a deep breath.

“Dad, it’s me . . . Cassidy.”

PROLOGUE

It was the perfect day. Joanna, along with her parents, was on her way to a fancy restaurant to celebrate her mother’s thirtieth birthday. Joanna and her father sang “Happy Birthday” while her mother laughed, begging them to stop. Everyone was having such a good time until her father cried out for God and slammed on the brakes. In that instant, her mother let out the most chilling scream Joanna had ever heard.
She had no time to react. The next thing Joanna heard was the horrifying groan of bending metal and the terrifying sound of shattering glass. Dazed and confused, she tried to shake off the deafening sounds that swam around her as a pain shot through her chest.
“Mommy, it hurts,” Joanna screamed. “Help me, Mommy!"
But her mother didn’t answer.
Joanna gagged on the smoke that began to fill the car, and her chest hurt every time she coughed, but still her mother did nothing to comfort her. Struggling to free herself, Joanna pulled on the seatbelt wrapped around her but it was no use. When she realized her legs were pinned behind her father’s seat, she became hysterical.
“Daddy! I can’t get out!” Joanna cried. “My legs are stuck! Help me Daddy!”
But he too was incredibly silent.
Joanna looked past the front seat to see the hood of their car crushed and smoking. The windshield was pushed in and pieces of twisted metal hung from the roof of the car like angry claws.
Petrified, Joanna tried again to free herself, but the safety belt pressed against her chest and the door was crushed against her shoulder, making it hard for her to move. Joanna cried again and again for her parents but they didn’t answer. She could see them through the smoke that began to fill the car, but still they did nothing to help her.
It’s a nightmare. That’s what it is.
Quickly, Joanna squeezed her eyes shut and waited. But when she opened her eyes, the nightmare had not gone away. Closing her eyes again, she tried to wish it all away. That’s when she felt a hand take hold of hers.
“It’s all right. I’ve got you now. You’re going to be okay.”
The voice was deep and kind. Joanna looked to see a policeman staring at her. He smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to stay right here with you, Sweetie, until the firemen can get you out, okay?”
She nodded timidly.
Smoke continued to fill the car. Loud voices yelled and hollered around her−scaring her even more. A fireman in a bright yellow suit spoke to the policeman holding her hand and told him he needed to back away. Joanna clutched his fingers even harder, afraid he would leave, but he smiled and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Work around me,” he said to the fireman. “I’m staying right here.”
“Then get this blanket around her,” the fireman instructed. “We need to get the jaws-of-life in here, and we’re running out of time.”
The policeman turned to her and smiled. “What’s your name, Sweetheart?”
“Joanna,” she said through sniffles and tears.
“Hi, Joanna, my name’s Matthew. I’m going to put this blanket around us, okay? That way the firemen can help to get you out.” Matthew gingerly laid the heavy blanket across her and pulled it over both of their heads.
“It’s so dark,” she whimpered.
“I’m sure a big girl like you isn’t afraid of the dark,” Matthew said to her in a kind voice. “But I’ll tell you a secret that helps me when I’m scared. If you close your eyes and sing your favorite song, the darkness doesn’t seem so scary. Can you do that for me, Joanna?” he asked while squeezing her hand. “Can you sing a song while the firemen work around us?”
She nodded her head slowly, and quietly began to sing “Happy Birthday”. It wasn’t her favorite song, but it was the only one she could remember.
“You’re doing great, Joanna. We’re almost done.”
“Is someone helping my mommy and daddy?” she asked, when she got to the end of the song.
“The firemen are going to get them out too, Sweetheart. I just need you to be brave right now. Okay?”
A loud noise filled the air as the car began to whine and the door pulled away from her side. Joanna could smell smoke through the blanket, but continued to sing as tears streamed down her face. She was trying so hard to be brave−like Matthew had asked her−but she was afraid. More afraid than she’d ever been in her life. She wanted to believe everything was going to be okay.
But somehow she knew something was terribly wrong.
“Okay. We got the door free,” the fireman yelled over the noise and the chaos.
Matthew squeezed her hand. “Joanna, I’m going to have to let go of your hand for just a moment while the firemen move the door. But I’ll be right here. “I promise.”
The blanket slipped from around her shoulders as Matthew’s hand pulled away from hers. She cried out for him, scared of being left by herself. But as soon as the firemen removed the door, Matthew reached inside the car, unbuckled her seatbelt, and carefully lifted her into his arms. He pulled her to his chest, and she could feel his heart beating just as fast as hers. Slowly, he laid her on a funny mattress with wheels, but never let go of her hand. When two men in blue shirts began to touch her, she pulled away; clinging to Matthew’s arm.
“It’s okay, Joanna, these men are here to help you. They’re doctors and they want to make sure you’re okay.”
As soon as she lay back down, she began to cough. But it wasn’t like when she had a cold or choked on a potato chip. It hurt more than that. One of the men in the blue shirts tried to put a funny mask over her face, but she pushed it away.
“It’s okay, Joanna. It’s just a mask, like at Halloween. It will help you breathe and make your coughing go away.”
“Is it going to hurt?”
“No, Joanna. I promise.”
After the mask was back in place, one of the doctors looked at her and smiled. “Joanna, my name is Jacob, and this is Steve.” He pointed to the other man standing beside her. “We’re going to listen to your heart and look into your eyes, okay?”
She nodded bashfully.
Joanna tried to lie still as one doctor pressed the funny heart tube thing against her chest and the other flashed a light in her eyes. They talked about the cuts on her arms and the gash on her knee, but didn’t say anything about her mommy or daddy.
“Where does it hurt, Joanna?” Matthew asked, while stroking her hair back from her face.
With her eyes closed, she pointed to her chest with a shaky finger and then to her tummy. She pulled at the mask the doctor had put on her face and asked in a quivery voice, “Where’s my mommy? I want to see my mommy.”
“She can’t come here right now, Joanna, but I promise I will stay with you all the way to the hospital.” Matthew stroked the side of her face just like her daddy did when he tucked her in at night.
Suddenly, Joanna felt very tired and no longer had the strength to keep her eyes open. The last thing she remembered was the policeman’s reassuring smile as he held her hand.

CHAPTER ONE

Officer Joanna Anderson sat at a desk by herself as she listened to the morning briefing. Sgt. Blackstone paced at the front of the room as he informed the day shift officers of a few fires that appeared to be arson, another death of a prostitute in the downtown district, and the continual rise of gang activity.
“We’re still hearing murmurs of tension on the west side,” the sergeant said. “The Outlaws are trying to expand their boundaries but the Lost Boys and the Compadres are beginning to push back. Tensions are high, so keep your ears to the street and your presence known. Watch yourselves out there; it could get ugly.”
“No uglier than it is in here,” Officer Brewster said from behind Joanna as he gave her chair a shove with his foot.
Joanna ignored him, or at least she tried to. She had expected to take some heat regarding her recent actions, but she’d never expected the harassment to get this bad.
She blocked out the caustic remarks and whispered threats. She sat in her seat with her head down, eyes closed. She relived for the hundredth time her partner pushing the teenage kid through the plate glass window; and the threats he’d aimed at her if she didn’t keep her mouth shut.
I did the right thing. He was out of control. I had no choice.
The noise level rose around her. She looked up to see the sergeant had finished with roll call. The briefing was over and the other officers were beginning to disperse. Sgt. Blackstone approached the desk she was sitting at and stopped.
“Anderson, Captain Armstrong wants to see you in his office.”
Immediately, everyone stopped moving and looked in her direction. “Maybe the snitch is going to get a taste of her own medicine,” someone mumbled.
Without acknowledging the comment, Joanna got to her feet and headed down the hall, preparing herself for what might happen. She had done the unthinkable just a month prior, and now she was going to pay for it.
She took a deep breath as she stood outside the door to the captain’s office and said a quick prayer before knocking.
“Enter!” the captain barked.
Joanna swallowed hard but refused to allow his commanding voice to intimidate her. She walked into the captain’s office and shut the door behind her, then stepped forward.
“Sit down, Anderson.” His tone was firm.
She did her best not to look threatened by his stare or his rank. She took a seat in one of the two worn upholstered chairs across from his desk.
“Do you know why you’re here, Anderson?” he questioned.
“No, sir.” But I can guess.
She assumed she was there once again to be interrogated about the grievance she had filed against her partner. But Cummings had given her no choice. His use of excessive force when dealing with arrests or even in the questioning of delinquents had gotten out of hand. The final straw came when he pushed a teenage boy through a plate glass window. Yes, the kid had run, and yes, they had chased him for blocks; but when Cummings had finally caught up with the teen, he wasn’t satisfied with an arrest. He was angry and wanted the kid to pay.
Everyone cleared out of the laundromat where Cummings had the boy cornered. When Joanna caught up with them, Cummings was clearly assaulting the kid. She yelled for him to stop, but he was out of control. The altercation ended with Cummings pushing the kid through a large plate glass window at the front of the store. She was the only witness to the assault, and he assumed she would keep her mouth shut like she had so many times before. This time he was wrong.
That evening, Joanna had filed a grievance, stating multiple incidents where she felt Cummings had used excessive force. He was assigned a desk job until the disciplinary board could review her allegations. When they convened two weeks later, Cummings was suspended a month without pay, and Joanna had become the outcast of the department.
She was horrified when the majority of the officers−the same officers who had sworn to uphold the law and serve the community−were siding with a man who clearly abused his power. She was being ostracized and harassed for doing the right thing.
No one came to her defense. Not one person. While some expressed their hatred for her openly; others just ignored her. She couldn’t believe after being in the department for three years, friends she had made since day one would so easily turn against her. She’d thought about transferring to another department, maybe even somewhere out of state. But she refused to be bullied. She had done the right thing and wasn’t going to let intimidation win. Now she sat before Captain Armstrong for the second time, and wondered what kind of reprimand she was in for this time.
The captain cleared his throat before speaking.
“What I’m about to tell you, Anderson, is coming from my superiors. I don’t agree with the decision and want you to know that up front. Despite what people say, affirmative action is alive and well, and breathing down our necks regarding the ratio of females in the upper divisions. You were the female that tested highest for the open detective’s slot, so we have no choice. You are being promoted to detective. Effective immediately.”
Joanna was shocked.
“This is not going to be a popular decision among the ranks,” the captain continued. “I tried explaining this to my superiors, but they thought my concerns were unfounded. It will look as if you’re being rewarded for your latest actions, but let me assure you, Anderson, you’re not.” His look fell just short of contempt. “This is a political move, a quota that has to be met.” The captain eyed her, clearly looking for a reaction.
Joanna was so excited she wanted to scream and shout. But since the captain was making it very clear he didn’t think she was deserving of the promotion, she kept her revelry to herself.
“I’m going to warn you,” he went on. “You have a squad room of detectives to win over. They’re not going to be to accepting of someone with your reputation. In fact, I doubt you’ll even last the month.”
He was clearly challenging her, but Joanna didn’t take the bait. He might not think she was capable, but she would prove him wrong.
“Who will be my partner?” she asked, trying to invoke the sound of confidence in her voice.
“Owens.”

Inwardly, Joanna cringed. Owens was one of the detectives she had already gone rounds with. Unfortunately, the captain picked up on her displeasure.
“Is there a problem, Anderson?” he asked pointedly.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with Owens, sir.”
He laughed out loud. “Oh. I wasn’t aware of the fact that I was here to make you feel comfortable. Do you want to tell me why you have a problem with Owens?”
Joanna knew the question wasn’t optional.
She cleared her throat. “He’s made advances towards me in the past, and I’m afraid being partnered with him might become awkward.”
“Oh really?” The captain’s words were laced with sarcasm as he reached for the button on his intercom. “Rose, send Detective Owens in here right away.”
Joanna realized too late she was only making matters worse. She sat in silence as the captain shuffled papers around on his desk. When the door opened behind her, she sat up a little taller. Detective T.J. Owens stepped into the room and stood directly in front of the captain’s desk. She chanced a glance at him while he focused on the captain.
T.J. looked like he had just stepped out of the pages of Surf Rider magazine. From his tousled sun-bleached hair, to his tanned complexion and baggy jeans, he looked nothing like a cop. That’s why he was so good at what he did. Of course, that didn’t stop him from being arrogant and obnoxious, as well.
“You wanted to see me, Capt.?”
“Sit down for a moment, T.J.”
T.J. took the seat next to Joanna and gave her a sideways glance. He was clearly confused by her presence.
The captain looked squarely at T.J. and asked, “Have you made sexual advances towards Officer Anderson?”
“What?” T.J. jumped to his feet.
“Sit down, Owens.” The captain’s voice boomed.
Joanna spoke up quickly. “Captain, I never said he made sexual advances. We’ve just had a few awkward exchanges.” She didn’t dare look at T.J. even though she could feel his eyes boring straight through her.
“Okay, Anderson, let’s get this straight.” The captain folded his hands on his desk and leaned towards her. “What kind of exchanges are we talking about?”
She swallowed hard and strained to make her words sound business-like, and void of feeling. “He’s asked me out repeatedly after I clearly made it known I wasn’t interested.”
“Yeah, well,” T.J. chimed in. “I can assure you I lost all interest after you showed your true colors.” He locked eyes with her to make his point.
“Officer Anderson,” the captain continued, unwilling to let the situation go. “Surely an attractive woman such as yourself has been pursued before.” The captain had a way of making even a compliment sound like a reprimand. “Did Detective Owens make suggestive comments about your physique?”
“No, sir.” She looked directly at the captain, trying to hold her ground.
“Did he ask you to have sex with him?”
“No, sir.” Joanna’s answer softened as her confidence faltered. Her stare settled somewhere among the paperwork on his desk.
“Did he touch you inappropriately?”
“No, sir.” Her shoulders slumped as her focus dropped to her lap; the heat of humiliation rose in her complexion.
“Good, then there’s no problem, right?” He looked to Joanna for an answer.
“No problem, sir.”
“Well, I have a problem.” T.J. shot back. “I want to know why she’s in here making accusations about me."
“T.J.,” The captain looked directly at him. “Anderson is being promoted to detective. Meet your new partner.”
“She’s what?” T.J. once again shot to his feet. “No way! No way am I going to get saddled with some broad that screwed over her old partner and now has me in her crosshairs.”
“Sit down, T.J.!” the captain barked.
“No freakin’ way!” T.J. continued to rant. “I’m not taking the chance of getting called before the review board because it’s my word against hers.”
“Relax, T.J.” The captain stood to get his full attention. “I think Anderson can assure us that’s not going to happen. Right, Anderson?” He looked at her directly.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Then we’re all clear. T.J., you can make the announcement to the rest of the men.” The captain fixed his stare on Owens, daring him to balk. When it was clear T.J. was not going to show further defiance, the captain glanced between them. “That’s all.” He turned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk.
The matter was settled.
Joanna got to her feet while T.J. made a beeline for the door. He swung it open wide and walked out. She followed after him, expecting him to stomp off, but as soon as she stepped into the hallway and shut the door, T.J. backed her up against the wall.
“Look, I’ve worked long and hard to get where I am. I’m not going to let you screw it up, understand?”
“I have no intentions of screwing anything up.” Her tone was as caustic as his.
“Oh sure, is that what you told Cummings right before you got him suspended?”
“Look, he deserved what he got. As long as you don’t push a kid through a plate glass window, you have nothing to worry about. I’m a good cop, but I won’t lie for someone who abuses their authority.”
T.J.’s complexion turned red. He leaned in closer to Joanna, ready to give her more of the same, when he looked to see Rose−the captain’s secretary−absorbing the whole scene. His actions were harassment, plain and simple. He took a few steps back, giving Joanna some breathing room before he stormed off, expletives punctuating every step. Joanna pushed off the wall she’d been pinned against and slowly walked down the hall. And I thought the last few weeks had been difficult. They’re going to look like a walk in the park after a day in the War Room.
There were ten other detectives besides Owens. All men. Unfortunately for her, they were all at the station for a special briefing. Nothing like being baptized by fire, she thought to herself as she took a deep breath and walked into the firestorm that surely awaited her.