Thirty-Two

On Monday, September 12, 2018, Detective Leah Uley was finally allowed to return to work. There were no words that could adequately explain how relieved she felt when she entered the police station without being sent home minutes after. Unfortunately, her reunion would be short-lived—her work-email had hundreds of unread messages; there was a pile of reports on her desk, and then there was the environment…

Leah could feel the impending headache as she tried to concrete on her word and not on the horrible, powerful combination of odors.

Her discomfort didn't go unnoticed. "Sensory overload?" Jacob asked from the desk right across from Leah. He was studying her, concerned, worried. As always.

Leah curtly nodded as she tried to ignore everything, all of the sounds, all of the smells. But the sensory overload continued to hit her like a load of bricks. "Tell me it gets better," she practically begged.

"You'll get used to it," Jacob promised. "Concentrate on what matters the most and tune out the rest."

Leah wanted to believe him, but the stench of coffee, body order, cologne and perfume, the station's dirt and its old equipment, the cleaning fluid on the floor... the combination was making her nauseous. Ignore it, she told herself on repeat. Ignore it.

Her mantra, unfortunately, was soon interrupted by the sudden desire to eavesdrop on the conversation currently happening inside Paul's office.

"We can't keep this incident quiet."

Thanks to Leah's enhanced hearing, she could pick up the words said and the movement of furniture and footsteps. There were six people inside, including the captain, his supervisor (the commander of the Extraordinary Crimes Division), the ASA, a couple of representatives from federal agencies, and the head of CPD's Public Affairs Department.

"We did with Saint Patrick's," Paul argued; the comment was directed at the commander.

"Did we? I distinctly remember being bombarded by the media every step of the way," the commander grumbled. "I distinctly remember the goddamn State Senate requesting a hearing and not to mention—"

"We simply won't tell the whole story," the head of Public Relations suggested, more to appease the crowd. "Just like Saint Patrick's. The last thing we need is mass panic."

"So, we're just going to keep on letting this happen?" Jenks asked, voice laced with frustration. Leah understood his plight; all he wanted was to have a few high-profile prosecutions under his belt. Unfortunately, the bureaucracy was giving him (and the police) a hard time.

"No," one of the feds said. "No. We need a solution without getting the media involved. If the press finds out, then we can kiss this whole-supernatural-anonymity goodbye."

The commander slid back in his chair, presumably to stand up in a booming voice, "There's more to life than—"

Leah tuned out the conversation before the commander could finish his statement. She glanced at her partner, who, based on his exasperated expression, must have overheard the conversation as well. "This won't end well," she said.

Jacob shook his head. "No, it won't."

Later that afternoon, Leah asked Jacob and Embry for any updates relating to Emmett McCarthy's case. Based on the noncommittal response from both cops, Leah figured the case had once again stalled—it wasn't the best news, but she couldn't be that surprised. Despite the amount of evidence against the mobster, the ATF seemed to have their sights solely on other members of the Olympic Coven.

When asked if Emmett had mentioned anything useful during the numerous interrogations conducted, Jacob provided, "He confirmed Jessica's affair with Carlisle. But insisted that Carlisle wasn't the killer because he had an ironclad alibi."

"On paper," Embry added. "The guy was a mob boss; I'm sure he knew a thing or two about soliciting hits—Speaking of said-mobster, are we still looking into Carlisle's demise?"

"Benjamin said he died from his injuries," Leah said. "But I don't even he believes that's the whole story. Call it a coincidence, but I find the timing pretty convenient."

"If Carlisle was truly murdered, then it must've been an inside job," Embry said.

"He didn't even leave the house…" Jacob said, trailing off as he rubbed his chin, deep in thought. He snapped his eyes and told his partner, "You think she did it."

Leah shrugged. "I didn't any say anything."

"You didn't have to—Esme does have a very good motive, though."

"Hell yeah, she does," Embry said with a nod. "She can't be too thrilled about his unfaithful ways, and she would have the most access to her husband while he was on his sick-bed."

"Of course, we do not have the proof," Leah added, disappointment evident in her voice. "We have no body. We're not going to get permission to enter the Cullen home even with a goddamn warrant."

Come to find out, Aisha shared Leah's suspicions about Esme's involvement in her husband's demise.

"There was this Chinese drama I watched a few months back," she told her friend the next day over lunch. "Terrific show called Empresses in the Palace. It took place during the Ming Dynasty, centered around the drama between the Emperor's concubines."

"Nice," Jared remarked with a shit-eating grin on her face as he walked past the detectives.

The detectives rolled their eyes.

"Anyway," Aisha continued. "It's a very fascinating show about the hierarchy within the imperial harem and what women would do to get on top… I didn't realize this until the tenth episode, but the HBIC wasn't the Empress. No, it was the dowager empress who had everything on lock."

Leah cocked her head to the side, pondering the message behind her friend's words. When the realization hit her, she leaned forward and said, "So, the Dowager Empress is Esme? And the Emperor is… Edward?"

Aisha nodded. "I think, all things considered, Esme is a decent lady. But she has a hold on Edward. And something tells me she'll do anything to make sure the family stays intact."

Leah finally understood. "Like kill off Carlisle."

"Like kill off Carlisle—He and Esme had been married for decades. I'm sure they've both been through hell and back, and I'm even more sure that Jessica wasn't his first mistress. But I think she was the first one to step out of her lane, and it messed with the marriage and family dynamics."

Leah took a bite out of her roast beef sandwich. "Jacob says he has a plan to get to the bottom of Carlisle's death," she said.

"A search warrant?"

Leah shook her head. "That won't do shit. They've most likely disposed of the evidence and the body, and you know no one's going to talk until there's a gun loaded with a UV aimed at their heads." She took another bite. "You know Benjamin's working for them."

Aisha's eyes widened in amazement. 'How is he still alive?"

That was an excellent question.

"I don't know," Leah said honestly. "But I'm sure the ATF's going to pull him soon. The families can't be too happy about how the raid went. Sure, no one too important is in police custody, but someone's in police custody."

"Someone must be vouching for him then," Aisha suggested. "If he's indeed a plant, then the Volturi must have really trusted him."

Aisha was right. A scrub couldn't gain a mobster's trust unless he did something to impress another high-ranking member. Trust and efficiency were essential in this business.

When Leah asked Benjamin about his viability in the investigation (and seemingly lack of self-preservation) sometime later, he insisted that neither coven suspected him of anything, but he would be on high-alert.

He then confirmed Martinez's intel about the purge: the mob bosses were becoming antsy, worried that the authorities were closing in around them and would launch around raid before the year ended.

"Don't be surprised when more bodies start dropping," he advised.

"As long as it's not you," Leah said.

Benjamin smiled at that, somewhat relaxing in Leah's and Jacob's presence. For quite a while, he was tense, especially Leah. It was as if the moment he had lied eyes on her, he had realized that she was a shapeshifter. He appeared more surprised than anything.

"So, you'll find out about Carlisle's death?" Jacob asked the agent, following a moment of silence.

Benjamin nodded. "It's the least I can do, especially after that debacle that was the raid," he said. "I'm trying to stay on your captain's good side, so of course, I'll you guys out."

Jacob shook the agent's hand. "Appreciate it."

"It's been confirmed, our favorite supernatural gangsters are indeed doing a purge," Martinez announced to Leah, Jacob and Embry, right before they heading out for a mid-morning meeting with Bella at the Officer of the Medical Examiner.

Leah's eyes widened, Embry almost fell out of his chair, and Jacob nearly choked on his coffee,

"As the Volturi Jane?" Jacob asked.

"The one and only."

Leah swallowed.

"Holy shit," Embry said. "It's like an end of an era."

"Why is she in trouble?" Leah asked Martinez; this was a development indeed. "She had nothing to do with us knowing about the tunnel meeting. Unless she went off when she found out about Alex."

"It could have been a mutual split," Jacob offered and asked Martinez, "Is she dead?" When Martinez shook his head, he followed up with, "Then there it is. The Volturi has no issue killing off their own. If they're letting her walk, there must have been an agreement involved."

"Do we know where Jane is now?" Leah asked.

"No, but we're keeping an eye out for her. She may look like she shops at Hot Topic, but she isn't someone to fuck with," Martinez said. "Our source claimed that the Volturi offed a few low-level soldiers. All newborns. And Victoria isn't too happy with her band of newborns—"

"How is she not in jail?" Leah interjected. "She's implicated in over fifteen murders."

Everyone else shrugged.

"Haven't heard much from the Olympic front," Martinez continued. "I doubt with Edward being in charge anything crazy is going to be happy; he's been a little cautious. But then there's Tanya. You never know what's up with her."

"And news about Carlisle's death?" Leah asked.

Martinez shook his head. "Nope," he said. "Everyone's tight-lipped about it. Which leads me to believe that he hadn't died from his injuries."

"Did you know Monica?" Leah asked one morning, admittedly out of the blue. She didn't know why, but the woman was on her mind, and it wasn't like she and Embry had anything exciting going on.

They were both standing outside in the station's parking lot, waiting for Jacob to emerge from the station. Even with the raid shit storm still brewing, the trio was still assigned to the Dahlia murder while the task force and the feds handled everything else; Leah was glad to hear it. She had joined the task force to get to the bottom of Jessica's murder; she didn't want the case to be pushed aside because rival gangs were going at it again.

Embry raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee. "From Vice?"

"No," Leah said, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. She was starving; if Jacob could make an appearance in a few minutes, they might be able to get some food before heading off to the Office of the Medical Examiner. "Jacob's ex-wife."

"Oh."

Leah eyed the younger cop, "So, you knew her."

"Nice lady. The last time I checked, she's a nurse at Swedish." Embry finished the last of his coffee and tossed the empty cup in the garbage several feet from him; he grinned when he made the shot. "Her cinnamon buns were crack. She'd make it every Sunday, and if Jacob were nice enough, he'd bring some over. They were together since high school. Crazy about each other, but then things got bad."

Leah sighed. "Yeah, he told me."

"He used to be… different. Like Jared, in a way, if you can believe it." Embry snorted. "But that sex ring case fucked him up, and he had started spending more time with the pack. Going on more late-night runs to clear his head…"

"She thought he was cheating on him," Leah realized.

"More or less, but he wasn't," Embry insisted vehemently. "But I can't blame her for thinking that. The idiot never told her about being a shapeshifter. Maybe if he had, she'd understand." He shrugged. "Or maybe not. People react to things differently…" He sighed. "He could've handled the situation better."

Even Jacob admitted that.

"I don't think she could handle it anymore," Embry continued. "Especially after finding out about the wolf. It was too much to digest."

Jacob admitted that too.

"You think he still loves her?"

"Define love."

"You know, in love?"

"You both are in the same boat," Embry said, eyeing the detective. He was silently trying to tell Leah, but she couldn't catch on. Or maybe she did but refused to acknowledge it. "In regards to how you two feel about your ex's."

Leah frowned. This conversation wasn't about her. "I'm still married."

Embry gave a curt nod. "Yeah, on paper," he said. "But in reality, everyone knows your marriage is done. You were done months ago."

Leah crossed her arms, staring at the younger cop, wondering what right he had to tell her about her relationship's vitality. Even though he was absolutely right. She huffed. "And how would you know that?"

"Dude, I saw the way you two looked at each other at the Slaughterhouse crime scene," Embry said, stopping to wave at Jacob, who was finally leaving the station. "That relationship was, is, and will forever be over."

"Thank you for stopping by," Bella said as she led the trio down the hallway. "I know this is the last place you want to be at after everything…" she trailed off as she looked back at Jacob. She was trying to catch Jacob's attention, but he was indifferent to her. Friendly, professional, but not entertaining her advances.

Bella was obviously disappointed. Leah wished she could tell the other woman that they were other fish in the sea (with less baggage), but something told her that it wouldn't help the situation. So, she, like Embry, was going to stay out of it.

Anyway, that wasn't important.

Bella had called them over for a reason.

"Why this victim?" Leah wondered.

"Something tells me that he's involved in your investigation," Bella replied, opening the doors to her lab. She was the only one working inside the lab. Eric had taken the entire week off to handle some family business. "I hope I'm wrong."

So, did Leah.

"If people can stop getting killed, that'd be nice," Embry remarked, and then with a sigh, he asked. "What's the body count now?"

"I stopped counting after the Slaughterhouse Murders," Jacob admitted.

Bella gave everyone a forlorn look. Directing the trio following her, she approached the examination table, currently occupied by a corpse. She then pulled back the white sheet.

Leah's heart skipped.

Jacob cursed.

Embry was speechless.

Bella seemed surprised by the trio's reaction. "Did you know him?" she wondered.

Without a word, Jacob and Embry looked at Leah for the answer.

Leah took a deep breath. "The name's Riley Biers," she replied quietly. "He worked for Victoria…" She looked away. "He just wanted to avenge Bree's death. He was gonna get—" she paused to compose herself, and then added, "He was going to start a new life after this bullshit."

"Well, crap," Bella said, understanding the gravity of the situation. "He was found late last night in Little Village. A couple of teens found him. Shot execution-style. Judging by the state of the body, he wasn't killed by a high-quality UV, but it was enough to kill him."

"Anyone else looked at him?" Jacob asked.

"A couple of detectives stopped by earlier, but once they realized that the victim wasn't human, they refused to look more into it," Bella said. "Apparently, it's true after all that vampires aren't priorities."

"It's complicated," Embry said. "Really complicated."

"We need the police report," Leah finally requested, clearing her throat a couple of times as she tried to digest the situation. None of this was her fault, she knew that. But she wished Riley's story didn't have to end this way. "Whoever did this killed an informant and needs to pay for it."

Jacob refrained from suggesting otherwise.

"I guess this is what Martinez meant by purging," Embry said, deeply frowning. "Riley won't be the last one."

When the gang told Paul about Riley's death, it took everything in the captain's power not to punch a hole through the wall. Instead, he vowed to them that Victoria and Laurent would be in CPD's custody by the end of the night.

"And that's a promise," Paul declared; the stormy expression on his face proved that he wasn't playing around. "They're not getting away with this. As far as we are concerned, the James Coven is dead."

Leah appreciated the determination, but arresting Victoria and Laurent wasn't going to be the walk in a park. Paul might have to bring in the SWAT team and guns loaded with UVs.

It turned out, she'd learn hours later, that was just what he had done.

And more.

Thanks to Paul's actions, Victoria and Laurent were being now held without bail at an off-site. Paul didn't want to risk keeping two volatile vampires in a regular jail. He didn't want a blood bath.

"You're giving us the Riley Biers case?" Jacob would ask Paul later that night. "I thought this case was going to be the feds'?"

"We'll deal with the feds later," Paul said. "Those fucks can be charged in both federal and state court. After all, you guys have more an incentive to get to the bottom of this murder. He gave you information about Jessica's murder, which as of right now, isn't a part of a federal investigation."

Leah raised an eyebrow. "Wait, but why not?"

"They're more focused on the raid," Paul said. "Everything else is being pushed to the backburner. The feds even took some agents off the Slaughterhouse case." He took a breath, folded his hands on his desk. "So, I'm entrusting you and Martinez's team to send Victoria and Laurent to Alcatraz."

"They're not saying shit," Jacob would later complain to the captain. A week has passed since Victoria's and Laurent's arrest. "Even after the indictments. Even after their lawyers said, they wanted a deal."

Paul was surprised. "Jenks told you that?" he asked.

"We overheard him," Leah said. "If we're going to do something, we have to do something soon. They want to invoke the Deal."

Paul slapped a hard hand on his table and cursed. "I'll talk to the high powers," he decided. "Hopefully, they'll realize the gravity of the situation and piss on that goddamn Deal—"

"But if they don't?" Jacob asked.

"We'll have to give the case to the feds," Paul said, obviously not wanting to resort to that plan. Referring a case to the feds that during normal circumstances could be handled by the police department sent the wrong message. He was tired to be held back by the Deal.

Jacob threw up his hands in frustration. "They need to grow some goddamn balls," he grumbled. "I'm getting sick and tired of this shit. We can't even do our jobs!"

Jenks ended up telling Leah and Jacob the bad, but expected, news later that week.

"The brass doesn't want to touch the case," he said. Disappointed, but not surprised. "Your captain did try to knock some sense into them. But you know how it is, politics." He then added, "The Deal doesn't bind the feds."

"We shouldn't be either," Leah maintained, and then asked, "There's nothing we can do? Those assholes killed off my C.I. He was an integral part of the Dahlia and the Slaughterhouse investigations. "

"The feds can toss the book at them," Jenks reasoned. "At this time, we can't. Unless something changes on top, we can't do anything with Victoria and Laurent but provide support to the feds."

"Bullshit," Jacob grumbled. "This is absolute bullshit."

"Sometimes, I hate this job," Leah declared, Leah continued, as she played around with her half-eaten Happy Hour serving of hot wings. The snack was generally delicious, but her appetite was shot.

Jacob deeply sighed. "Yeah, me too..."

"I didn't want him to die," Leah continued. "I didn't want anything bad to happen to him. He was a good kid, you know? A little misguided in his actions, but he wanted out." She turned her attention the beer next to her and sneered, sorely disappointed in its lack of effectiveness. "This is my third one," she said, taking a sip. "And I'm not even tipsy."

"You wouldn't be. You need some WB in that drink," Jacob softly pointed out.

Leah blinked. "Can't that shit kill you?"

"Yeah, too much of it will kill you, but a minute amount won't," Jacob explained before calling out, "Hey, Quil, gimme a beer with WB!" Moments later, Jacob uncapped the beer and handed it to his partner. "Try it."

Leah did so. She soon grimaced at the burning sensation in her throat. She hadn't felt that since her first time downing a shot of tequila. "Fuck, that's strong."

Jacob grinned. "One beer's enough. But it'll do the trick."

I'll say, Leah thought as she tried another sip. She then asked in a quiet voice, "When you shift, does everything go away? Like feelings?"

Jacob shook his head. "Wolves have emotions, too," he said. I mean, sure if you go on a run, you'd forget about everything for a few hours, but when you're done, everything comes back. Trust me, I've tried—Your phone."

Leah hadn't realized her phone was buzzing inside her suit jacket pocket. She quickly pulled it out, fully intending to put it on silent when she noticed Embry was on the other line. "This better be good," she grumbled in lieu of a greeting. "I had a shitty day, and—What?"

Leah didn't need to tell Jacob; he had overheard the conversation. Cursing under his breath, Jacob slapped a twenty on the bar and slid off the stool. "Tell him we'll be there in twenty," he told his partner.

Jacob then took out his phone and quickly dialed a number. "Yo, Captain," he said, watching Leah as she took a few more sips of the beer before gathering their things. They had to leave pronto. "We got a problem."

Embry had received a frantic message from Jared that a young woman was found dead in her Edgewater apartment.

Mike Newton had confessed to her murder.

"I've had it. I'm transferring to another state," Bella declared as she exited Jacob's car. She slammed the passenger door shut before following the detectives to the newest crime scene located inside a high-end Edgewater condo. "I think Charlie would love to see me in Forks. He thinks that my life expectancy's been but cut by a decade ever since living here."

Jacob chuckled while Leah didn't add to the conversation as the trio headed to the entrance. They flashed their respective identification and were let inside.

"But wouldn't you be bored in Forks?" Jacob wondered in an amused voice, trying to lighten the mood, but he was clearly frazzled as well. He pushed the elevator button. "You're a city gal."

Bella sighed. "Maybe boredom is just what I need."

Leah couldn't fault the other woman. Tonight was supposed to be everyone's night off. It was supposed to be her night to grieve of Riley over a plate of wings and beer. She cursed Mike of thinking it was a splendid idea to commit murder at this time of night.

And confess.

What the hell was up with that?

The trio soon found Embry standing outside of the crime scene, drinking a from a can of Red Bull; he looked exhausted. After stepped aside to allow some more officers to enter the apartment, he noticed his partners and Bella and waved. "That was more than twenty minutes," he said, attempting to add his usual charm, but it fell flat.

"You know how Lake Shore Drive is, and we had to pick up Bella," Jacob said, peering through the slightly opened door, leading into the condo. "Who's the victim?"

Embry didn't say anything. Instead, he motioned the trio to enter the apartment with him—

Leah had seen this coming. She had seen this coming, but her foresight still hadn't prepared her for the sight in front of her. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," she exclaimed. Jacob stood right now to her, rendered speechless. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Lauren Mallory.

Mike had confessed to killing Lauren Mallory.

Embry looked down at the victim, lying only a couple of feet away from the ground, on her side with blood still pooling from her torso. He ran a hand down his face. "Oh, I wish I was."

Bella went straight to work. She reached into her work bag, pulled out the necessary equipment. "Only her?" she asked, putting on a pair of latex gloves.

Embry nodded.

Leah went to Bella's side and crouched down. Two shots—one to the abdomen, right above the pelvis, and one to the torso; judging from the location, the bullet must have pierced an intestine. No matter how quickly the EMT's had shown up, Lauren wouldn't have survived; she had practically bled to death.

She had been shot from the front, Leah couldn't, meaning Lauren hadn't been running away from the assailment—She looked around. No other bullet casings or holes found.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."