Bernice was looking for an update. She'd called Jen's mobile and got no answer. That was a bit disconcerting. She called the hospital and was transferred to Freeman's room. Bernice had actually spoken to Duncan Freeman who said that both he and Nick were awake and recovering, and the family was having a bit of a break. The children were with Nick's mum, and Bernice assumed they were all getting some much-needed rest.
But as pleased as she was with the personal side of things progressing well, she now needed an update on this homicide case. If Jen was resting, Bernice wanted to use this time to be able to get some information and go check on her and provide the update. She just needed to get it herself first.
Her first stop was to Terry's office. With all the stress of the last two days and being up and at work all night, she could use some information and a bit of a cuddle, too.
Strange how that was, now. Five years ago, Bernice had assumed she'd lost all opportunities for romance or even companionship in that way. She had her work and she had Rhys and she had her friends. But Terry Jarvis, it seemed, had quite a soft spot for her. Well, his heart was soft even if other parts of him weren't. He'd been teasing her their whole careers, but it turned flirtatious. And Bernice inexplicably enjoyed it. And so things had progressed. And progressed. And now they were officially an unofficial item together. They had an understanding and a sort of commitment between them, even if there wasn't really a label for it. They spent more nights together in his bed than not, though she had no intention of moving in with him. Terry accompanied her to all sorts of family functions. The two of them took care of Nick and Jen's children whenever they were given the opportunity. They were Auntie Bernice and Uncle Terry, and, as ridiculous as it might have once seemed, Bernice loved that man and the life they shared more than anything in the world.
But Terry wasn't in his office. Presumably, he was on the Homicide floor. She went down to see the squad.
She found Kingston, Taylor, Smith, Ryan, and Levitt all working hard at their desks. But no Terry in sight. "Is Superintendent Jarvis around?" she asked to no one in particular.
"In the office, ma'am," Kingston replied, pointing to the closed door of Sergeant Buchanan's office. Now what was Terry doing in there? The blinds were closed but the light was on.
Bernice gave one sharp knock and opened the door. She saw Jennifer and Terry spring apart, the both of them looking surprised and upset. "What's going on here?" she asked, closing the door behind her.
Terry gave her a tight smile. "Just having a bit of a cry," he explained softly.
Jennifer was wiping her eyes, grabbing a tissue from the box on Nick's desk. The holder was covered in colored pasta. An art project Cody made when he was in nursery school. His father had been so proud.
"What is it, Jen?" Bernice asked her friend gently.
"I can't just do nothing. You know I can't. You know I can't."
And Bernice did know. She knew the ache of doing nothing when there was work to be done. She knew the absolute horror of being forced to sit out when family was involved with a case. She knew the helplessness and panic of not knowing what was going on and not being allowed to help. But her personal experience with such matters would not sway her now. Because Jennifer's situation was not like hers. And she had a responsibility to Jennifer, too. "Jen, Nick's going to be okay. I spoke to Duncan earlier. And you've got to be there for him and for your children. You can't be here. And I'm sure that's what Terry told you."
Jen's brow furrowed defiantly. "Some madman shot up my best friend's wedding and nearly killed my husband. I want to help get him."
"And that's why you can't. Jen, you know how this works!" Bernice insisted.
"You're really not going to let me even help run background? Do research?" she pressed.
"No!" Bernice's voice was raised now. If Jen hated her, so be it. But Commander Waverley had the integrity of her Homicide Squad and the ethics of policework to protect.
Jennifer was about to start shouting when another knock at the door. Bernice glared at Jen warningly before turning to open it. "Yes?"
Rhys appeared on the other side of the door with a look of determination in his eyes that never failed to make Bernice proud. "We've got a lead."
"Briefing room," Jarvis barked. "You, too, Jen, come on," he added, softer. He put his hand on the small of her back to lead her comfortingly out of her husband's office.
The squad was assembled with their folders and notepads, ready to come up with a plan of action. Jen stood in the back, hoping to not be too noticed or interrupt in any way. Oliver Taylor stood close to her and asked quietly, "How's Sergeant Buchanan doing?"
"He's going to be alright," Jen told him.
There was a visible release of tension in Taylor's whole body. "Good. I've been…we've been really worried. The sarge means a lot to me," he confessed.
Some lightbulb went off in the back of Jen's mind at that. Detective Taylor went to take his seat, and Jen watched the way Allie's eyes followed him. And Jen realized that poor Allie was barking up the wrong tree on that one.
Matt Ryan stood up front with Rhys to present their findings. "Right, so a few years ago, Homicide worked a case with a truck driver and illegal tobacco and found that this guy was getting paid a lot of money to haul chop-chop for processing." He put up a police processing photo on the board. "Colin Rankin."
Jen's breath caught in her throat. She remembered Colin Rankin. And the whole case flooded back to her.
It had been in the early days of rediscovering her life with Nick. They were both on Homicide as detectives. She'd only been back for a couple weeks after she'd been seconded to Counterterrorism. They were working together well but hadn't yet found the perfect rhythm of it again. They hadn't even been sleeping together again yet.
Even in her memories, Jen wasn't sure how she'd done it, how she'd been able to convince herself that she and Nick weren't righto for each other. The working relationship from when they were in SIS was perfect, and it had come right back to them on Homicide. And Jen had never been so attracted to a man as she was to Nick. Christ, even after all the heartache and utter devastation that their relationship had brought her, she had still loved him more than anything in the world. Why hadn't she let herself be happy? Why hadn't she had faith to grab him with both hands and start their life together? Perhaps they'd needed that time, that forced rigidity to bond them in ways beyond the romantic or sexual. They'd ended up just where they'd needed to.
But that case with Colin Rankin, that had been notable for a reason that had nothing to do with Nick. That was the case where Duncan had gone undercover, had posed as a crooked cop to blackmail Rankin. He'd worn a wire and met up with Rankin to get a payoff in exchange for the documentation that guaranteed Rankin's guilt. And Rankin had showed up with two hired killers to shoot Duncan.
That memory was burned in her brain, particularly now. Poised around the corner with her gun drawn and her Kevlar, waiting for the signal. Duncan got shot and fell to the ground and Jen screamed his name as she came out shooting the assailants. Rankin and his associates were arrested, and Jen had sprinted to Dunny's side. And when it was revealed that he had a bulletproof vest under his shirt, he'd started laughing. Nick stood by, laughing with him and helping him up, and Jen smacked him in the arm, scolding him for scaring her like that.
And now, according to the research Rhys and Karin had done, Colin Rankin had just been released from prison. He matched the description of the shooter in the church, though Jen could not quite recall the sound of Rankin's voice nor the voice of the shooter. But Rankin would certainly have a motive against Duncan.
"We're still looking for the getaway car, and we're going to track down Rankin's known associates to see if we can locate him," Allie added.
Rankin seemed to fit the bill of the shooter. The first viable suspect they'd come up with. They just had to find him.