I arrive at the precinct, where I used to work, and leave my car double-parked on the busy road. I didn’t give a flying fuck if I got ticketed, or towed, or caused an accident. I was going to get arrested for murder or die avenging my son. Either way, parking doesn’t really make much difference when you have nothing left to lose.
Reporters stand outside the precinct, some looking disheveled and not well-rested. Maybe they recognize me, or maybe they can feel the anger emitting off of me because they part for me to pass.
I swing the door open, accidentally smacking the cameraman’s face with it.
His howls and shouts die down when the door closes behind me. The large lobby of the precinct is busy. Too many uniformed cops stand around me, each of them a suspect.
Your precinct.
It takes a significant amount of energy to reclaim my body back from my primal instinct. Without tipping anyone off, I stealthily cut toward the stairs, carrying the bullet and the proof in my purse.
Cap’s office has large floor-to-ceiling windows that give him a direct look at the floor below. His blinds are down, but I’d drag him out of whatever meeting he had.
For once, my son was going to be more important to him than anything else. This had been my home once. Now, I was ready to burn it down if I had to.
When passing the cheating asshole’s door, I consider taking the sticky notes in my bag and writing out, “You’re a cheating bastard” letter by letter, and tell Kace where to shove his firsts, seconds, and any other number that follows.
He can go fuck himself.
I don’t bother knocking. The captain’s door is always open, so I swing it back calmly. Cap’s sitting at his desk, Kace sits in front of him. Both of them look at me with slack jaws and wide-eyes.
“Get out!” I hiss, not at all calmly, my fixated glare aimed at Kace. The items in my purse won’t let me forget his lying ass.
Kace furrows his brow and stands up, chancing an approach when everything about my body emits warning signs.
I’m hyperaware of them, and to emphasize them, I narrow my eyes to nearly thin slants and cross my arms tightly. “If I were you, I’d make yourself scarce.”
I touch my necklace, the one with a snipped piece of Tyler’s hair.
Kace’s eyes are drawn to the movement. “What are you doing here, Eleanor? I specifically told you to stay the fuck home.”
“To be frank, I could give two shits about what you want or say.”
No doubt using his detective skills to figure out I know about his cheating, he bows his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “How did you find out about the—”
“Shut up!” I growl at him and step aside, hinting his presence is not required. “I need to talk to Cap.”
Kace steps forward. “Eleanor, you need to calm—”
The captain clears his throat and calmly nods his head. “We were just talking about you, Eleanor.”
“Talking, huh?” I pass my ex, take a seat on one of the chairs in front of Cap’s desk, and put my purse in the other, on top of Kace’s phone.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your lips are better skilled in other things.” I may be jumping to conclusions, but those images of him did not lie. I sure as fuck didn’t have blonde hair.
All this time, I’d been so blind to the tells. Before Nolan, he was barely home, he didn’t kiss me much, and he was always on his phone. These last ten days flash before my eyes, revealing signs I quickly shut down. “I said, take your lying ass and get out.”
Confusion hits first and then a slight lean back on his heels. “What are you talking about, Elle?”
I’m not interested in his words, just his movements, so I wink at him and shrug, purposely instigating a fight. “With all the bullshit coming out of your mouth, I’m surprised your breath doesn’t stink.”
He steps forward with a locked jaw. “Elle,” he clips loudly and looks at Cap, who has not said a word. “This is not the place to talk about what happened at home.”
“Nothing important happened,” I throw back at him.
His lips drop to my mouth with a pinched expression.
Good. I’ve got his attention. I reach into my purse and pull out a little black box. He immediately checks my hand for my ring. It’s still there, but not for long.
I place the box on the captain’s desk and push it in his direction while looking at Kace. “Get out, Kace. I need to talk to Cap about the Bullet Man case.”
Kace shakes his head and glances at Cap for help. “I told you she knew we picked up the suspect. It’s all over the fucking news.”
I had not. TV-time was not on my agenda yesterday. I spent all fucking afternoon going through Kace’s files, looking for any clue as to who the Bullet Man was, and instead, the Bullet Man found me.
“And like I said, Detective Dalton, we need Eleanor on board with this interrogation. In less than twenty-four hours, we have to let her go, and then what? Do you think you’re going to be able to pick her up again? She’ll sue us for defamation so quickly, we won’t be able to touch her with a ten-foot pole.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
Kace resigns and looks at me. “We have the Bullet Woman in custody.”
I scoff at his audacity. “Bullshit. Just bullshit.”
A quick glance at the captain tells me, Kace isn’t kidding. So, I open the ring box to reveal the bullet. “You got the wrong person. This was delivered this morning. The courier said they were using an app called ‘Money-Life,’ and it was posted late last night.”
“We’ve got a few calls of random deliveries this morning, but after the first ten
turned out pranks, we didn’t even think to continue,” the captain says.
Kace almost stumbles, not because of his error, but because he knows what the ring box holds—answers.
Or more questions in this case.
He doesn’t approach me, and he doesn’t even look at me. The silver bullet is all he sees. He mouths words that never make a sound. His hand slides up to his heart, gripping his shirt before he steps forward.
“Is that?” The pitch of his voice is too heavy for the words he wants to express. “How… Did you…”
I don’t clarify. If he can hide things, so can I. “I need you to get out.”
His eyes glisten in the bright light of Cap’s office, and though he tries to hide the hurt, he does a poor job. “You can’t be serious, Elle. He was mine too.”
Fuck you. I glance at Cap, who has now put on gloves and retrieves two evidence bags from his desk. “This is the name you received?”
Location? Yes.
Someone in this precinct shot me or was responsible for shooting me, and while Cap figures it out, I’ll be busy following my own lead.
“So many fucking shit applications.” The captain grumbles as he places the bullet inside the bag, and then does the same for the ring box. “Detective Dalton?” Cap snaps his head up. “This can be a copycat. I need you to get in contact with Money-Life and explain the ongoing investigation. Maybe they will cooperate and release the records. If not, get a warrant.”
“Sir…” Kace swallows his anger. “With all due respect, the name of the person who murdered my son is in that bag.”