Till Life Do Us Part

Chapter 2

Her day started out just like every other normal one, the soft chatter of her colleagues in the Cold Cases Unit around her and a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. It was general knowledge that she hardly partook in their prattles, she just didn't have anything to contribute. Between work and her priceless few hours of sleep, her life was hardly one she would consider interesting enough to share. Occasionally, she smiled up and exchanged pleasantries with people, although she was getting rather sick of the constant "how did your weekend go?" that everyone seemed to find such an interesting question. Her weekend had gone how it always did and she was sure everyone must know that, it was a wonder why they still bothered with such an unnecessary question. At the thump of files being dropped on her desk, she looked up from her computer but already instinctively guessed who it must be. And she was right.

Roy Davis stood in front of her, one of his charming smiles pasted on his lips and his eyes as twinkly as they always looked. He was her colleague and in fact, her teammate. They made an amazing team and Danica loved working with him, she was more than willing to present him with the best teammate award if only he wasn't outrightly flirting with her half of the time. With his auburn hair, bright honey brown eyes and oozing charisma, she admitted that he was a sight to behold, a pristine depiction of Ken doll handsome. She liked her men more rugged, but she wouldn't have said no to him.......if only he could keep it in his pants. It was no news that Roy had been with more than women than the amount of times she laughed per year, and more than half of the policewomen at the Atlanta Police Department were inclusive. She wondered if it was perhaps a sick indulgence of his to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, wherever he went. He smiled down at her and she returned it, leaning back into her seat.

"Detective Davis". She said with a small nod in manner of greeting. "Good morning".

"Good morning, Danica". His eyes held a mischievous glint that let her know he was very intentionally trying to irritate her. She didn't know why he insisted on calling her by her first name, she definitely wasn't on first name terms with him. "How did your weekend go?". He asked, settling down in the seat in front of her desk. There was that annoying question again.

She rose a shoulder in an indifferent shrug. "It was okay". That was a little white lie. Her weekend had been filled with the constant worry of her personal life. It had been 2 weeks since the break up.....and Jackson still hadn't done anything. There was no use deluding herself that he might have forgiven her, his angry texts in the first week were more than enough proof that he hadn't but he hadn't acted yet. That coupled with the fact that she hadn't seen him at work throughout the second week, made her even more uncomfortable than she should be. Despite her racing thoughts, she maintained her mask of passiveness and smiled at Roy. She wasn't even going to pretend to be interested in how his weekend had gone. She had heard enough from his prattle earlier with the others. He leaned forward on her desk and rested his hands atop the files he had brought along, narrowing his eyes on her suspiciously.

"And your toe, is it better by chance?".

Remembering the outrageous lie she had told him during the weekend, she adjusted uncomfortably on her seat but smiled her brightest smile. For as long as she could remember now, Roy had been asking her out on every weekend. And every single time, she came up with a new excuse to hold him off. At the beginning, her excuses had been more sound, but with time, they had come to be more and more ridiculous and unbelievable even to her own ears. Even though she was very aware that he knew she was lying, she really didn't care. It was too bad he was refusing to get the general message that she didn't want to spend a Saturday night out with him. The excuse this weekend had been a non existent case of a stubbed toe. At this point, it was a wonder how he wasn't calling her out directly for her cheap lies, she wondered how long they would play this game for.

"Oh that........" She glanced at the her boot-clad feet. "......it's a lot better thank you. It wasn't so serious to begin with anyways".

The mischievous glint didn't leave his eye. "I'm sure it wasn't. Just enough to stop our date from happening".

She stared at him incredulously for a brief moment before letting her lips widen in a totally false smile. "Right". Suddenly uncomfortable, she gestured towards the file he had brought along. "What do we have here?".

"Oh yes........" He sat up straighter and plucked out the thinnest file at the bottom. "We have something. Marcus Zyon, a 21 year old Latino American found in a park somewhere along the Georgian suburbs, bludgeoned to death". He handed her a thin file and she ripped it open to find a couple of pictures. "The pictures are gruesome". Staring at the mashed mass of blood, tissue and gray matter in the first picture, she didn't disagree with him. She nodded in understanding as he steadily offered more information.

"How cold is this one?". She asked.

Roy flashed her a small smile. "We are in luck this time, Detective. Only 11 years". She reciprocated his little smile for that was indeed great news considering they had just spent more time than she liked in their last case of 37 years. Roy continued. "Prime suspects were his 18 year old step brother, his Namibian girlfriend......and his mum". One of her eyebrows shot up in mild surprise.

"That's interesting". She mused as she went through the vile case report. "Well....shall we?. We have a cold case to steam up, Detective".

                           •••••••••••••••••••••

Danica's heart thumped wildly as she made her way through the pristine halls of the station, towards the COP's office on the last floor. She didn't bother denying the fact that she was scared. Somewhere deep in her guts, she knew this had something to do with Jackson, curse the bastard. A few hours ago, she had been buried in the Marcus Zyon case and had finally had the chance to escape the unwelcome thoughts that raced through her head. And right when she was beginning to think that the day had passed uneventfully thank goodness, she had been summoned. And for some weird reason, she couldn't help glancing at the walls of the station fondly as she made way for the fear that this might be the last time she would walk them as a Detective.

Stopping at the entrance of the COP's office, she gulped a mouthful of air and patted down her hair, all the while trying her hardest to control her racing heart. Through the thick oak door, she heard muffled voices at the other end and that didn't nothing to aid her course. Refusing to give in to the urge to cover her ears and run away, she brought her hand up and planted a soft but firm knock on the door. At the faint rumble of a voice on the other end, she pushed the door open and with her head up and eyes straight, she marched forward to face what might just be her biggest fear.

She had been right. Opposite the Chief of Police, Jackson sat in one of the chairs, looking as handsome as ever in a steel grey suit, a chilling smirk on his silly face. She resisted the impulse to fly across the room and rake her fingers down his face. The room contained one more person, her team chief, Michael Brooke and he was also sat in the lone chair beside Jackson's. Unlike the latter, he bore an expression of deep thoughtfulness and when their gazes connected, Danica saw in his eyes that he was highly conflicted about everything he'd probably heard. A faint sense of embarrassment crawled over her as she realized how disappointed he must be in her but her eyes remained pointedly fixed on the CPO as she marched to his desk.

"You called for me, Chief".

His keen grey eyes assessed her as she came to a stop in front of his desk, roughly planted between Jackson and her chief. She  looked at neither of them. "Detective Parish, I did call for you. We have a bit of a situation here". Her heart thumped so loudly it was a miracle no one else could hear it but herself. She had thought she would be ready for this moment, she had practiced her defensive speech in front of the mirror and yet here she was, tongue tied as Jackson oozed childish satisfaction at the fact that her life was about to turn apart. Refusing to give in to the panic that rose in her chest, she donned her impeccable mask of indifference and looked ahead.

"What do you mean, sir?".

"Oh but I'm sure you know". Jackson countered. She pointedly took her time glancing down at her right where he sat. Her eyes burned with so much coldness it was a wonder the whole room wasn't half frozen. Raising an eyebrow in mock surprise, she asked. "Do I?".

He flashed her a quick smile before turning back to the Chief. From the irritated expression on the Chief's face, it was obvious he wasn't the biggest fan of their little exchange.

"Detective Parish, Lieutenant McMahon here has quite a lot of.......allegations against you.  You are only here to confirm or deny those allegations. Till you do, please be informed that we stand neutral". Even though it felt like the hardest thing to do right now, she nodded in understanding. "You may only reply the questions with a yes or no, is that clearly understood, Detective?".

She made to nod but caught herself just in time. "Yes, sir". She croaked out.

"Are you and Lieutenant McMahon here in a long standing relationship of 5 years?".

She didn't hesitate. "No, we are not......sir". She added as an afterthought. She didn't bother registering the looks on the others' faces but by the COP's expression, that wasn't the answer he had been expecting. Regardless, he turned to Jackson, a fairly annoyed look in his eyes.

"Lieutenant McMahon, your allegation has been duely denied". He said flatly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jackson make to mouth his next lie but she didn't even let him start.

"Lieutenant McMahon and I were in a relationship for 5 years. We no longer are". The two men looked at her in annoyance.

"Detective Parish, you'll only speak when I ask you to". The COP said curtly. Not so apologetic, she nodded a little.

"Apologies, sir".

He eyed her sternly before folding his hands under his chin and leaning forward on his seat. "Detective Parish, did you excel in your vision standards test 5 years ago.....or not?".

It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head. She didn't even realise her heart could thump any harder till she felt the heavily resonating movement in her chest. She made to answer his question and instead, felt a sob rise from her throat. Shutting her mouth, she swallowed and struggled to maintain her mask before answering his questions. "No.....no I didn't, sir". Her voice came out lower than she would have liked.

Leaning back on his seat, the Chief sighed heavily as he toyed with the fountain pen in his hand.

"Did Lieutenant McMahon pull the strings that got you the job and badge you so proudly carry now......Detective?". So much for being neutral, she heard the beginning seep of scorn in his voice. The worst was about to be over with, she assured herself and rose her head higher.

"Yes, sir". She said, her voice a little bit stronger.

His steely eyes regarded her coldly and he humphed before turning away from her. She looked straight forward at the portrait that hung above his head and let the memory wash over her. The night Jackson had bailed her out of the station had been a major turning point in her life. She had been 21 and as naive as she could be. And conflicted if she may add. Since regaining her memories two years earlier, she had struggled with major identity crisis and on more than one occasion, had been tempted to just end it all. But she would tell herself again, she had been born for a purpose and had been made to remember every single thing that had happened in her past life for an even better purpose. She had felt a deep sense of anger within at her confused state, which would later lead to sudden emotional and sometimes physical outbursts and by the end of her time in the Police Academy, she had been on her very last strike. She had only barely graduated.

After graduation, she had spent 2 years conflicted about her decision to be a cop and on one faithful night of a cold January,  mischief had seemed like an easy way to vent all her pent up energy out. She had given in to the restless energy that seemed to brim under her skin and agreed to toilet paper the local post office. They had been found out of course and 3 of them had been caught. In the frenzy, her glasses had been lost and she had been barely able to see her hands as she had been cuffed and dragged to the cold, dank cell of the local station. When Jackson had bailed her out, he had soon found out that she could hardly see his face and instead of finding her intense squinting comical, he had told her she looked adorable. That was probably the moment she had fallen for him. He had driven her back to retrieve her glasses and when she could see her feet once again, she was more than impressed by the tall, handsome, older man that had taken to her.   He had been highly surprised to find that she had in fact, gone to a Police Academy but had promised to handle whatever criminal records had been jotted in her name. With time, he had rekindled her love for the law and then convinced her to take the police standards test. She had excelled in everything but the vision standard test and while she had tried not to show how deeply heartbroken she was by it, he had seen through it. He had never really told her what he did exactly but a week later, he had passed on the news that she had been taken up as a probationary officer in the Atlanta Police Department where he worked. Even though they never really discussed it, she knew he had played a big role in getting her the job. It hadn't sat right with her that she had gotten a job through such means but she had been happy regardless and had sworn never to make him regret doing what he did for her. Within her first four years, he had pulled even more strings alongside her hard work and she had been promoted to the rank of Detective. Even though she had been tentative about his means, she had been more invested in the ends and had since, never taken the title for granted. 

With him in her life to give her the peace of mind she needed, she had also learnt to chase away her demons. She had learnt to balance her rioting emotions and with time, she has overcome her identity crisis. She was Danica, Melaniá reborn and she wasn't going to throw away her strength wavering under personal pressure. She and Jackson had been the perfect couple.......till he had started the taunts, picking fights with her over the most insignificant things only to get the opportunity to remind her that he could bring her world crashing down in a blink. He had changed and with time, she had felt her love dry up more and more with his petty ways. She had still been ready to tolerate him but the discovery of the little tracking device he had planted on her had been the last straw. She knew she didn't have the Jackson McMahon she had fallen in love with anymore. Or maybe, she was the one that changed. Her naive 21 year old mind had totally casted him a perfect light but with every passing year, her bubble deflated a little more and she was gradually hit with the reality.

She was jerked back to attention by the Chief clearing his throat. Bringing her gaze to clash with his, she regarded him keenly and hoped by some miracle that his next words wouldn't be what she dreaded most.

"Well......that's a lot to take in

". He mused silently as he eyed her. "Do you have anything more to add, Detective?".

Her eyes burned but she refused to show any signs of weakness. "I might not have come into this organisation with the noblest of means, sir, and I'm deeply regretful of that fact. But I think we'll all agree that I have earned my stay with the little service I've been able to offer. If you'll let me sir, I'm willing to offer mo.........".

She was cut short by the Chief's raised arm. "That'll be enough, Detective". His voice carried a stronger tone of scorn and she flinched a bit at the open bite of insult. Looking at his cold eyes, she knew then. It was over. At least for her. "If you'll excuse me now, I'd like to inform the board of this regrettable action of a high ranking lieutenant and a detective of the station. Together, a verdict shall be made. In the meantime, you are relieved of your duties". She nearly sagged in despair. "Please note that you haven't been totally dismissed, but you will have to go off for the while. Hopefully, a lot of reflection will be done during that period and a deep sense of remorse will be developed. Do be kind to leave your gun and badge behind as you make your way out". She felt her breath catch in indignation. How dare he think her so impertinent as to not be remorseful? "Lieutenant.......". The Chief continued, turning to Jackson, his voice suddenly softer. ".......we will have to talk about your involvement too".

And that's when it all became clear to her. She already knew how it was going to go. Right there in the cold scorn in the Chief's eyes, she saw it. She was going to be fired. The excuse of a board was just that.......an excuse. The decision was already made and she was going to be fired. And Jackson was going to get away.......as he always did. A low flame of fury burned in her core and she took in the injustice of it all. How dare they humiliate her like this? She could practically feel Jackson's oozing satisfaction as his plan clicked into place. No, she wouldn't let him totally have the satisfaction of humiliating her like this. Using the flames of rage that burned in her as incentive, she blinked back angry tears and rose her head higher, her mouth set in a firm, tight line.

"On the contrary........" All heads turned to her. "I'll quit".  She heard Chief Brooke's sharp indrawn breath as he cursed silently beside her but she didn't so much as spare him a glance. She had never been so certain of a decision. She wasn't holding back. Raising her head straighter, she repeated. "I'll quit". The Chief rose one eyebrow in mock surprise. He must be stupid if he thought she was letting him off so easily. "For a so called reputable law enforcing body, it's too sad that the justice system isn't what one would expect it to be". She pointedly glanced between him and Jackson and she saw something like unease flit briefly through the Chief's eyes. "But what do I know in the face of lieutenants and chiefs? I'm just a lowly detective......". She lowered her voice dramatically. ".........aren't I?".

Without wasting any further time, she unclasped her badge and removed her gun and it's holster, proceeding to carefully lay both of them on the desk. She felt the tears begin to sting more and she knew she couldn't stay here one more minute without ruining the image she worked so hard to maintain. With a curt bow, she turned away from the desk and marched towards the door, head held high even as a single tear escaped and slid down her cheek.