Page 10 of Shield

“I’ll do my best,” I say, holding my hands up in surrender.

She hesitates, then strides toward the chair across from my desk and sits, crossing her arms defensively. She just stares at me, so I offer her a small smile. “What’s on your mind?”

Her eyes dart toward the glass windows lining the office, then back to me. “I got a situation,” she says quietly, her voicetense.

“The windows are tinted,” I assure her. “Nobody can see you in here.”

She exhales in relief, nodding slightly. “My baby’s father likes to get rough with me when he drinks,” she admits, her tone edged with shame and anger.

I nod, keeping my face neutral.

“I keep my baby safe,” she adds quickly. “But I’m scared to go to the cops. They might take my girl away. It happened to my cousin, and I can’t let them put her in the system.”

“That’s a valid concern,” I say carefully. “But your safety matters, too. You’re just as important as your baby.”

Her cheeks flush as she looks down, fidgeting with her long, polished nails. “I know that. And I left him. But… I need something from him, and I can’t cut him off completely until I get it.”

I frown slightly. “What is it that you need from him?”

She meets my gaze, defiant despite the tears pooling in her eyes. “I think he knows who killed my cousin.”

My stomach tightens. “Do you think he did it?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “He was with me that night. But I’m sure he knows who did, and he won’t tell me.”

I nod slowly, considering her dilemma. “How do you plan on getting that information from him if he doesn’t want you to know?”

Her composure cracks as a tear slips down her cheek. She swipes at it angrily. “I don’t know! That’s why I came here,” she says, standing abruptly. “But this is pointless. No one can help—”

“Wait,” I interrupt, motioning for her to sit. “Give me a chance?”

She glances over her shoulder toward the window, then slumps back into the chair. “Fine. I guess I’m already here.”

“Alright,” I begin, steepling my fingers. “There are ways to approach this, but staying safe is the top priority. We’re not doing anything that puts you or your baby in danger. Understood?”

She rolls her eyes and shrugs in agreement.

“You could appeal to his ego,” I suggest. “Play innocent. Tell him you need his help to figure it out. Make it about him being the ‘hero.’”

She starts to get up again. “I told you; that’s some old lady shit. I’m not doing that and no way would he buy it if I did.”

I suppress a smile. “How about this? You could put it on his love for your child, tell him it’s important for your baby to feel safe as they grow up, and knowing who to avoid might help both of you.”

Her eyes flicker as she considers. “Maybe. Keep going.”

“Or,” I continue, “you could make it about his wellbeing. Say you overheard someone talking about the cops looking at him for the murder. Tell him you want to help clear his name, but you need him to help you find who really did it so they will stop looking at him.”

“But he has an alibi. He was with me,” she says, wrinkling her brow.

“That’s true, but you’re his baby’s mother. The cops could think you’d lie to cover for him. He might get defensive and tell you who really did do it so you can help him point the police away from him.” I lace my fingers in my lap. “You think that might work?”

Her face lights up. “It could. He’s no rat, though. He hates the cops.”

I shrug. “Most people do.” I have no problem with cops, but Franco’s face flashes across my mind. With officers like him walking around, it’s no wonder the police have a PR problem. I shove the thought aside. “But let’s talk about how we can get you and your baby into a safe place—”

She stands suddenly and leans over the desk, throwing her arms around my neck in an unexpected hug. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” Turning, she runs out the door.

“Wait! I didn’t get your name!” I call out, but she only waves over her shoulder as the door swings shut.

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