Chapter 4: Into the storm
Jess stepped out of the station's kitchen, coffee in hand, the scent of burnt espresso and stale paperwork trailing behind her. The scene was finally wrapped, reports submitted, and the evidence logged. Lilly had been taken to the hospital for evaluation, and Jess would be heading there later. First, she needed to make sure CPS was looped in and a child advocate was present before she could even think about interviewing the little girl.
There were protocols—especially with someone so young, so fragile.
She also had an APB out on Emily's boyfriend—Lilly's father—Dale Mongramy. His record spoke for itself: prior assault charges, including one filed by Emily, a weapons charge, and a string of drug offenses.
From everything Jess had gathered so far, Emily and Dale had been deep into meth—making it, dealing it. But somewhere along the line, Emily had decided she wanted out. She'd moved back into her mother's house, trying to get clean, maybe give Lilly a chance at something better.
Her mother had passed away two months ago. The house, modest and worn but stable, had been left to Emily. She was an only child—her father had died years earlier—so the home was hers, and hers alone.
Dale, from what Jess could find, was also an only child. His parents were long gone, and no other relatives turned up in the system. Jess had already started the search for a next of kin for Lilly, but right now, the only legal tie was Dale.
And that didn't sit well with her.
Not after what she'd seen. Not with Lilly still flinching at sudden sounds and refusing to let go of Jess's shirt at the hospital.
The idea of handing that little girl back to someone like him made Jess's stomach turn.
And there was something else she had to deal with.
Miller and Evans.
Jess's jaw tightened at the thought. Their sloppy sweep of the property could've cost a child her life—or worse. What if the killer had still been on scene? Clearing the area was crime scene 101, and they'd failed it. They'd missed the signs. Missed the damn shed. Missed the child. It had taken Jess less than five minutes to spot what they hadn't—the high chair, the pink sneakers by the back door, the quiet presence of a life too small to speak for itself.
It wasn't just about being thorough—it was about being aware. And Miller and Evans hadn't been.
That kind of oversight wasn't just careless. It was dangerous.
Jess walked over to her desk and sank into the chair with a quiet exhale. Just for a second, she let herself crash. She wasn't someone who liked confrontation, and she wasn't big on lecturing—never had been. But she was the lead detective on the case, and that meant the mistakes Miller and Evans made were on her too.
She rubbed her forehead, already rehearsing what she was going to say when she called them in. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it had to be done.
"Hey," a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.
Jess looked up.
Don stood at the edge of her desk, coffee in hand, concern softening the edges of his face.
"Hey," Jess said with a small smile, grateful for the pause he offered—however brief.
"Rough one?" Don asked, setting the second coffee on her desk without needing to be asked.
Jess nodded, fingers curling around the cup. "Found the kid in a shed, Don. They cleared the damn scene and missed her."
Don's expression darkened slightly, the lightness in his eyes replaced by quiet understanding. "Miller and Evans?"
Jess didn't even have to answer.
He gave a low whistle and leaned a hip against her desk. "You gonna talk to them?"
"I have to." She took a sip of the coffee, the warmth grounding her. "I don't like dressing people down, you know that. But this? This wasn't just sloppy—it could've cost that little girl her life. What if the guy who did this had still been there?"
Don didn't say anything right away. He let her sit in the weight of it, the way he always did when he knew she needed to get it out before hearing anything back.
Finally, he said, "You've got good instincts, Jess. And you don't get to lead without holding people accountable. Doesn't make you the bad guy—it makes you the one who gives a damn."
She looked up at him, the corner of her mouth twitching. "When did you get so good at pep talks?"
"I've been living with you long enough to know when to bring coffee and wisdom," he smirked, giving her shoulder a squeeze.
Jess let out a breath and nodded, setting her coffee down.
"Alright. Time to deal with Miller and Evans."
Don straightened, his expression back to business. "You want me there?"
She considered it for a second, then shook her head. "Nah. I've got it."
But she appreciated the offer more than she could say.
Jess stood, rolled her shoulders back, and headed for the hallway where she'd seen the two officers earlier.
Time to do her job—even the parts she hated.
Jess walked back into the squad room, her expression unreadable. She'd just finished tearing into Evans and Miller—by the book, but firm. They'd tried to shift the blame, argue that it wasn't entirely their fault. But Jess wasn't having it. Protocol was protocol, and this time, the stakes had been too high.
She filed the write-up, no pleasure in it, just responsibility. It wasn't about making a point—it was about accountability.
Back at her desk, she checked her phone. Kim, the child advocate, had emailed—she'd meet Jess at the hospital in an hour. Dana, the assigned CPS worker, had also sent a note to confirm.
Jess tapped out a quick text to Jo Danville in the lab.
Need you at the hospital. Can process Lilly for evidence. Child advocate & social worker will be there.
- Angell
Jo had taken over after Stella left, and while no one could quite fill Stella's shoes, Jess liked her. She was sharp, professional, and had a calm, grounded energy that made hard scenes a little easier to navigate. They were starting to become friends—the kind where no one said it out loud, but it just was.
Jess finished her coffee, dropped the empty cup in the trash, and grabbed her coat. It was time to check on Lilly.
And make sure no one failed that little girl again.
"Angell," O'Bryan called from his office. "Can I see you for a moment?"
Jess looked up from her desk and nodded. She stood, smoothing her blazer, and crossed the room. She closed the door gently behind her and stood at ease, waiting.
Captain O'Bryan looked up from a report, his expression unreadable for a beat before he gestured to the chair across from him.
"Have a seat."
Jess did.
"I've gone through the preliminary reports on the Clark case," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Want to walk me through what happened on scene? Specifically, why did it took so long to locate the child?"
Jess gave a short nod, already prepared. "Miller and Evans were the first to clear the scene. They declared it secure, but they didn't do a full sweep of the property. Missed the shed entirely. I arrived about twenty minutes later, noticed signs of a child in the house—high chair, bottle rack, drawings on the fridge. That's when I found Lilly."
O'Bryan's brows pulled together slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
"I addressed it directly with them," Jess continued. "They tried to shift responsibility, but the oversight was serious. I wrote them up and documented the failure per protocol."
"Good," O'Bryan said, his voice even. "That could've gone bad, Jess. Real bad. If the child had been injured—or if the perp was still there—"
"I know," she said quietly. "Believe me, I know."
"What about Johnson? He was on the scene," O'Bryan said, glancing down at the report.
Jess shook her head. "He wasn't first on scene. Miller and Evans cleared it before he got there. Johnson didn't do anything wrong—if anything, he backed me up the second I flagged something was off."
O'Bryan studied her for a moment, then leaned forward. "What's your next move?"
"Lilly's at the hospital," Jess replied. "I've coordinated with CPS and a child advocate. Jo Danville is meeting me there to process evidence properly, with the right people in the room. In the meantime, I've issued an APB on Dale Mongramy—Emily's boyfriend and Lilly's father. He's got priors: drug charges, a weapons offense, and an assault charge filed by Emily. Right now, he's the only legal connection to Lilly... but if he's involved in her mother's murder, he's not going anywhere near that little girl."
O'Bryan gave a slow, approving nod. "Good work. Thorough. Controlled."
There was a pause as he sat back in his chair, watching her closely.
"I've been keeping an eye on how you're handling things," he said. "You've stepped up. Quietly. Consistently. You've taken lead without chasing the spotlight—and that matters. You hold your team accountable, but you also have their backs when it counts. That's what leadership looks like."
Jess blinked, a little surprised by the unexpected praise.
"I've got my eye on you for lieutenant," he continued, his tone steady. "Not tomorrow, but soon. When Sythes retires, you're at the top of my list for recommendation. Keep doing what you're doing."
Jess nodded, a flicker of something warm settling in her chest. "Thank you, sir."
"Now go see that kid," O'Bryan said, a trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "She's going to need someone steady in her corner."
Jess stood, her spine a little straighter. "Yes, sir."
And for the first time that day, she felt the smallest flicker of hope—like maybe, just maybe, she was doing something right.
Jess stepped into the hospital, the familiar antiseptic smell and quiet hum of machines already setting her on edge. She'd never liked hospitals—too sterile, too full of strange beeps and low murmurs. And after getting shot, waking up hooked to tubes and monitors, her dislike had turned into something deeper.
She made her way down the hallway, her steps instinctive, until she spotted the room.
Lilly's room.
Officer Johnson was just stepping out into the corridor as Jess approached. He looked up, his posture relaxing slightly when he saw her.
"Oliver," Jess greeted him, using his first name.
He gave a small nod. "Hey. She's in there. How is she?" she asked quietly, her eyes drifting toward the closed door behind him.
"She's... tired," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Been sleeping on and off. Nurse brought her a few toys, but she didn't really care. Barely touched the lunch they gave her, either." He paused, his expression heavy. "Kid's been through something."
Jess nodded, eyes softening as she glanced through the small window into the room. Lilly looked even smaller in the hospital bed, curled up beneath a thin blanket, clutching the worn sleeve of a stuffed animal. Jess's chest tightened.
"I need to interview her when Kim and Dana get here," Jess said gently. "Jo's on her way too—she'll process what we can with the right people around. You've been here for hours. Go get some rest."
Johnson looked like he might argue, but then his shoulders sagged slightly in quiet relief.
"Thanks, Flack," he said, a half-smirk playing on his lips.
Jess raised a brow. "Still Angell."
He chuckled. "Right. Thanks, Angell. For having my back today."
Jess gave him a soft smile. "Anytime."
She watched him head down the hall before turning back to Lilly's room. She took a breath, steadying herself. The hard part wasn't over yet.
But she'd be there for it.
Jess stepped into the house and let the door shut quietly behind her. It had been an incredibly long day—and it still wasn't over. She was only home for a quick shower, a clean change of clothes, and maybe, if she was lucky, a short nap.
Jo and Lindsay had spent the day running evidence, and everything pointed to Dale Mongramy. He was still out there, but the working theory was clear: he'd come looking for Lilly.
Emily had been keeping him away—refusing to let him see their daughter. Jess had also learned Emily owed him money from their time using meth, and it was clear Dale wanted that more than anything else.
It had ended in violence.
And the worst part? He hadn't even looked for Lilly.
Emily must've hidden her in that shed, doing whatever she could to protect her daughter in those final moments. The team was piecing it together now—building a timeline from the physical evidence and the fractured story left behind.
But so far, Lilly hadn't spoken a single word. Not one.
She was traumatized, withdrawn. No one knew exactly how much she had seen... or heard.
Right now, she was still in the hospital. Jess had her brother Ryan, who was on call tonight, keeping an eye on her, along with a uniform stationed outside her room—just in case Dale tried to show up.
Dana, the social worker, was working on placing Lilly in a foster home, but Jess wasn't ready to let her out of protected care just yet. The hospital was the safest place for her—for now.
Jess sighed, running a hand through her hair as she headed up the stairs and down the hall. She had twenty minutes—maybe thirty if she really pushed it.
"Jess?" Don's voice called from the bedroom, the sound of it grounding her more than she expected.
"Yeah, it's me," she replied, dropping her bag and collapsing onto the couch.
Don stepped out of the bedroom, sleeves pushed up, a laundry basket tucked under one arm. He'd been putting clothes away—his quiet way of picking up the slack while she was knee-deep in a case. Without needing to ask, he set the basket aside and crossed the room, sitting next to her.
Jess leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder with a soft, exhausted sigh. The weight of the day clung to her like a second skin.
"Going back in?" Don asked, his hand gently settling on her knee.
"Yeah," she murmured, yawning. "Just needed a shower... and maybe twenty minutes of sleep if I'm lucky."
Don didn't say anything right away. He simply wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, anchoring her. The quiet between them wasn't awkward—it was needed.
"You want food?" he asked after a moment. "There's leftover pizza in the fridge."
Jess shook her head lightly. "Nah... Jo and I grabbed burgers on the way back from the hospital. I can't eat anything else right now. My stomach's twisting."
Don gave a small nod, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "Just rest for a bit. I'll wake you if you oversleep."
She gave him a soft, tired smile. "What would I do without you?"
He smirked. "Probably forget to eat and fall asleep on your desk."
Jess let out the faintest laugh and closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself breathe. It wasn't over. Not yet. But this—this moment—was enough to keep her going.
Jess let out another slow breath and started to stand, but Don gently tugged her back down, just for a second longer.
"You sure you don't want to sleep here? Just a little while?" he asked, voice low.
"I can't," she said, though she wanted to. "Lilly's still at the hospital. I need to be there. I just... I needed to come home for a second. Remind myself I still have one."
Don didn't push. He just nodded, his hand trailing gently down her arm.
"You should go to bed," Jess said quietly. "I might not be back tonight."
"I figured," Don replied. "But promise me something—get some sleep at some point. This case... it doesn't sound simple."
Jess offered a tired smile. "I promise. I'll come home tomorrow night."
He reached out, catching her hand. "Be careful," he said, his voice soft but steady. "And I love you."
She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, lingering there just long enough to let it say what words couldn't. "I love you too."
As she pulled herself to her feet, Don rose with her, walking her toward the stairs.
"You've got this, Jess," he said, firmer now—not just reassurance, but belief.
Halfway up, she turned and looked back at him, silhouetted in the soft light of their home.
"Yeah," she said, her voice low but sure. "I do."
Then she disappeared down the hall, and a few moments later, the hum of the shower filled the quiet house—steam rising, washing the weight of the day from her shoulders. She had clean clothes, a clear mission, and just enough fire left to walk back into the storm.