FAÇADE Chapter 21

Always told you not to love me

I got poison in my pocket, told you I was bad news

My demeanor made you wait, but the consequences stayed

I killed everything we were

It's been 27 hours since we even saw the sun

~Banks, 27 Hours

When I was made to pay for all that I had done.

The next day was shitty to say the least. It was pouring down rain as I drove in to work to face the firing squad. I was so fucking happy to be in my own apartment the previous night, with my own clothes and familiar surroundings. I was happy to throw my brown contacts in the trash can and to stare at my normal self in the mirror. I’d tried to savor it, to find the good in all of this, but it was long gone now.

Black was waiting for me, a stern expression on his face but an extra coffee in his hand. We were sort of friends, allies in what we did for a living, but he wouldn't go easy on me, nor did I expect it of him.

We settled in a conference room alone, but it might as well have been an interrogation room; that's what it would become before much time had passed. There was a stack of folders on the table, a pitcher of water and a stack of cups. Typical for any meeting, but this was not a typical meeting. This was where I found out if I would be fired or arrested.

We sat, and he started immediately. “How close did you get to the subject?”

“Not as close as I would have liked,” I replied as I took the lid off my coffee and blew on it.

“How close did you get to Isabella Swan?”

“Closer than I should have,” I answered honestly, then took a sip of the scalding liquid. Singeing the tip of my tongue brought clarity.

His brows knitted together. “Did it gain you intel?”

“She told me that Carlisle Cullen killed Eric Yorkie, Charles Swan’s attorney. That dates back about two years now, unsolved.”

“Did you find proof of such?”

“I did not.” I sipped my coffee again and watched him.

Jake sighed, looked down at the folder he’d opened, and rubbed his face hard. “What of the murder of Peter Caplan?”

“I witnessed Emmett and Jasper Cullen drag him onto the main floor of their club, Façade, and Jasper shoot him in the back of the head. They were hoping to have someone in their midst confess to being a fed.” I looked Jacob in the eyes. “Isabella informed me they were flexing their power but that they did not actually believe there was a fed.”

He flipped that folder closed and pulled over another one. “Riley Biers?”

My gaze never wavered. “Speculation was that a rival Family was looking to take down Emmett Cullen using Riley Biers. It is still unclear who killed him.”

“His body was not found in his office, and no evidence of a crime was discovered, despite forensics doing a deep search for blood and other fluids.”

I knew he was dead. I’d held the photo in my hands. “I don't know enough about that to formulate an educated opinion.”

“James O’Malley, alias Greasy Thumb. What do you know about him?”

“I heard that he was the one responsible for killing Charles Swan, that he was paid by Emmett and Jasper Cullen to set up the hit. The rumor was that nobody could prove it, so instead he flaunted his mistakes while thinking he was above their rules. He skimmed money off the top of his tributes before turning them in, things like that. That’s why they called him greasy. He slipped by punishment until he didn't. Bullet to the head sniper-style is what I heard.”

Jake shuffled some things around again. “What happened the night you reported Emmett Cullen to me?”

This could get tricky for me. I probably should have let it go instead of reporting it. “I drove Bella to work that night. The atmosphere was hyped up after Greasy Thumb was killed, and I was hoping to hear something about who did it. I was laying low at the bar when Emmett took the stage while Bella was dancing. He manhandled her, embarrassed her, that type of shit. I stayed out of it.” I sighed and cracked my knuckles under the table. “Bella told me later that night after her shift that Emmett attempted to sexually assault her in the backstage area with another dancer present. Façade’s bouncer, Felix Romanov, stepped in and put a stop to it.”

He hummed, moving the photos in front of him around with the tip of his pen. “And you did nothing about it?”

“I retained my cover and didn't show my feelings, yes.”

“What about Emmett Cullen’s death?” he asked without preamble.

“I can honestly say I had no clue about it until you called me and informed me of the video recording.”

He nodded and didn't say anything for a minute, merely staring at me. “All right, let’s take a break for lunch,” he finally said.

I glanced over my shoulder at the clock on the wall. It was fucking twelve thirty. I stood and stretched.

“I’ll have Cope order something from the diner. What do you want?”

I thought of his assistant, Mrs. Shelly Cope, as I told him what I wanted for lunch. She was the personification of the term ‘old battle ax’. She was great.

I walked out to the main room of the office and looked out the glass doors. It was still pouring down rain, and I hoped Shelly wasn't going to go out in that. I turned to ask Jake and spotted her instead. Wearing a dress that showed off her mile long legs and talking to Ben a few feet away. She was facing away from me, but I knew it was her.

A throat clearing behind me caught her attention and mine. Just as she raised her head I looked back at Jacob. “Shouldn't she be in the hospital?”

His tough expression slipped for a second before he recovered. “Someone claiming to be her brother signed her out AMA. She came in to give her statement regarding Jasper and the information he gave us about Gianna Cullen’s death.”

I couldn't answer him. I wanted to know what she’d said, what they’d asked her, if she would be arrested. So many things went through my head, but I had to keep my mouth shut or give it all away.

“So, uh, Shelly isn't going out in this rain, is she?” I said instead.

“No, she called the order in, but I was going to brave the weather and pick it up for us.”

I cleared my throat. “I’ll do it. I, uh, need a breather from this place.”

One eyebrow went up, and I wondered if he’d order me to stay. “I would tell you not to drown, but I think that’s inevitable.”

I laughed awkwardly at his attempt at a joke and jogged out into the rain. It was coming down in sheets and my clothes and hair were plastered to my body by the time I opened the door to the diner across the street. I had to wait in line at the pick-up area, and after I told them I was there and confirmed that Mrs. Cope had paid over the phone, I backed up to a corner to wait in solitude.

There was no doubt in my mind the second half of the day would be worse than the first. I’d have to hear about whatever Jasper had claimed and what information Bella had given them. I’d be grilled about all the things I had done wrong and what I should have done differently. The fact that Jake let me leave the building hinted at the fact that they weren’t planning to charge me with anything. I would take any suspension he threw at me without complaint and flee to Chicago to visit my family so I didn't see Bella around every corner like I would here.

As if I’d summoned her by thinking her name, the bells over the door clanged as it was pushed open, revealing an umbrella first and a pair of long, toned legs next. She closed the umbrella and tried to hold it away from her body to keep it from dripping on her clothes. Her dark doe eyes searched the confines of the small eatery, first near the counter and then past the heads of those in line to pay. She spotted me and a flush crept up her neck.

I was leaning against the wall, wet leather jacket and boots, jeans and a black t-shirt. My hair was probably sticking up since I’d run my hands through it several times in an effort to dispel the rain. She approached hesitantly.

“Hi.”

I didn't straighten from my casual stance, didn't throw myself at her feet or wrap my arms around her like I wanted to.

“You shaved.” She took a step closer. “And your eyes aren't really brown.”

I didn't remark on the bruises covering her face, the butterfly bandage over one eyebrow, or the dark circles under her eyes. I didn't scream at her for almost getting herself killed. Again. I didn't ask about her part in Emmett’s death or if she would be charged with anything. I didn't tell her I loved her, how that emotion had made me do anything and everything I could for her and it hadn't been enough. I didn't ask if she was the official Dona, and I didn't beg her to run away with me to a non-extradition country and start a new life.

Instead, I sealed away that part of my heart that yearned to tell her all of the things I was thinking and feeling. I closed myself off to her and just watched her watching me. About the time it became incredibly uncomfortable, the girl behind the counter called out my order. I walked swiftly over and accepted the bags with a thank you and made my way back out into the rain, into the life I chose years ago, and in the opposite direction of what could never be my future.

Back in the office, Jake barely let me get my food scarfed down before he started in on me again.

“Jasper Cullen alleges that he witnessed Carlisle Cullen shoot Mrs. Gianna Cullen in the middle of an argument. He claims that just yesterday Carlisle informed him that he is not, in fact, a legitimate Cullen heir, which places heavy motive behind what he claims Carlisle did.”

“I was not aware of this information. Not one word about their parentage ever came up in discussion.”

“Carlisle Cullen will be charged with one count of murder in the first degree, as it is the only crime we have anything remotely resembling evidence to charge him with. Isabella Swan came to us to offer herself up as a go-between while Cullen is hospitalized. She stated on record that Cullen will give up all of his information on the other three mafia Families in this territory as long as we offer him protection. Cheney has been in touch with the Marshall service, and they have agreed to meet with Carlisle to hash out the possibility of witness security and protection, dependent on the validity of the information he is willing to divulge.”

“Okay.” I wasn't sure if this was quite the victory Jacob had been looking for. Carlisle would essentially be free to live his life, albeit under a pseudonym and in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere.

“I don't think we have anything to charge Isabella Swan with, but that remains to be determined after we question all of the others we currently have in custody. There has been a failed attempt to locate one Garrett Russo, alias the Garrotter. Any ideas?”

I coughed. “Deceased, I believe. Shot in a warehouse raid.”

Black’s fingers drummed over the top of the table. “You know everything and yet nothing, Masen. How is that possible?”

“Rumors, sir. I kept my head down and overheard a bunch of rumors, but that’s all just speculation.”

“You and I both know what we did wrong with this investigation. Don't we?” He looked at me steadily, and I didn't know if he truly knew what I had done, but I wasn’t about to open my mouth and incriminate myself. “Between the two of us, if Bill makes any effort to audit my case notes, I’ll be in more trouble than you currently are. As it is, I’m going to take a sabbatical, and you will accept the suspension I hand you without complaint.”

“Yes, sir.”

He groaned and sat back in his chair. “I hate this, Masen, just so we’re clear. Sixty days on the bricks. I don't want to see your face or hear your name.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

I went home, packed my bags, and sat at my computer to look into flights home. I made a simple dinner and tried not to miss the apartment on the other side of town or the mansion that held too many memories to count. I watched the evening news to replace the look on Bella’s face as I pushed off the wall at the diner and walked away without a word. I laid in bed and thanked God that the only punishment I’d received was a suspension, and vowed to find a new career path during my two months back home.

I knew I would spend the rest of my life punishing myself for all that I’d done.