Chapter 3
I smacked the paper against Marlon's chest hard enough that he let out a muffled grunt.
"Captain Marlon, doesn't sneaking into a closed amusement park count as breaking the law?" I teased.
Marlon started sweating bullets.
"And this raincoat," I said.
I fished it out of the trash can.
"Since when did you start rocking crop tops, Captain Marlon? Especially ones with frilly lace trim?" I teased.
I held the raincoat up against Marlon, and it was hilariously tiny compared to him. Everyone around us couldn't help but laugh out loud.
"That girl said she lent it to you?" I shot Irene a look that could burn holes through steel.
"Something this personal, and on a stormy night. Were you two having a little dress-up party up there or what?" I pressed.
Irene snapped, flustered. "That's not true! It was just an emergency..."
"So an emergency means you get to wear a woman's raincoat? Or are you telling me you just happened to have a backup with you when Marlon showed up to rescue you?" I pressed.
I kept pressing her, not letting her get a word in edgewise.
"Hey, reporters, this raincoat is what you'd call 'date night gear', a hot seller at adult shop online," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
As soon as I said that, the live chat exploded.
[Holy crap! What a plot twist!]
[This isn't a rescue, it's a secret rendezvous!]
[A cop in a sexy raincoat? That's a sight I can't unsee!]
Marlon finally snapped.
"Lynn! Are you crazy? You're destroying the Criminal Investigation Division's reputation!" he shouted.
I shot him a cold look.
"You're the one dragging our name through the mud. If you've got the guts to do it, don't be scared when people start watching," I said.
"By the way, Captain Marlon, I called you twelve times last night. You said you were busy rescuing someone and didn't hear your phone," I said.
"But for Irene, you answered right away when she sent you a video call? Is that your idea of an emergency?" I pressed.
With every word, Marlon's face lost more color.
Finally, he could only point at me in impotent rage. "Get out! Get out of here!"
"I don't need you to tell me to leave. I'm out of here," I shot back.
I slammed the food container down on the floor.
"If you want to play the hero so badly, then knock yourself out. I'm done," I said.
As I turned to walk away, the rapid-fire clicks of cameras erupted behind me.
Early the next morning, I got a call from the bureau.
"Lynn, this whole mess... it's really not looking good," Stanley Young said.
Stanley let out a long sigh.
"The bureau wants to keep the media quiet about this. Marlon's the captain of the Criminal Investigation Division. He represents the whole force," he said.
"Chief, are you asking me to go along with it and say the whole thing was just a misunderstanding?" I asked.
Stanley rubbed his hands together, looking a bit embarrassed.
"It's not really about faking it, it's just... we need to look at the big picture. The 'Top Ten Detectives' award is coming up, and Marlon's a top contender. We can't let anything mess that up right now," he said.
"If you just put out a statement saying you and Marlon are getting along fine and that night was just a misunderstanding, the bureau will acknowledge your contribution," he added.
I looked at the old man who once taught me to never compromise my principles, and it made me feel a little hollow inside.
"Chief, do you remember that case we worked on together five years ago?" I asked quietly.
Stanley hesitated, avoiding my gaze.
"If it hadn't been for that negotiation screw-up, I wouldn't have been pushed to the background," I said.
I locked eyes with him, enunciating every word.
"You know exactly how many of Marlon's achievements are really his own," I said.
Stanley's face darkened.
Marlon was the kind of guy who was always putting on a show.
For the past five years, I was the one burning the midnight oil, writing all his glowing reports and every psychological profile for those tough cases.
Even that "legendary detective" title of his? Piece by piece, I built that up for him from the shadows.
Even that whole fear of heights thing.
It wasn't some medical issue. It was pure childhood trauma, thanks to his father tossing him off the second floor.
I was the one who sat with him through every meltdown in the training room, crying, yelling, puking, just so he could barely stand on the third floor.
But he never really got over it.
Not until he ran into Irene Ellen, that internet celebrity who could send his adrenaline through the roof.
"What are you getting at, Lynn?" Stanley's tone turned serious.
"Nothing in particular," I shot back.
I stood up and straightened the collar of my police uniform.
"I'll be at the awards ceremony. But don't expect me to make a statement," I said.
But before Stanley could say another word, I was already out the door.
Three days later, the awards ceremony went ahead as scheduled.
To save face, the bureau tried to paint the whole mess as a good deed and gritted their teeth as they handed Marlon the award.
Marlon hobbled onto the stage with a cast on his leg, leaning on crutches and flanked by two officers.
The applause from the audience was half-hearted, and the veteran cops shared some pretty complicated looks.
*****
Marlon put on a heartfelt performance, going on about how he "conquered his inner demons" and "put his life on the line for others."
When he got to the dramatic part, he even forced out a couple of tears for effect.