Page 69 of More Than a Hero
Sandra let out a breath she’d been holding, and added, “His mother will implement stricter rules about his social activities, and he can work with her cleaning the Legal Aid offices two afternoons a week.”
"Community service," Cedric mused aloud. "Something visible, something that shows the community we're taking this seriously."
Pete felt the tension drain from his shoulders, replaced by the familiar surge of satisfaction that came with victory. "Thank you, Mr. McCalister. You won't regret this decision."
Walking out, he felt like he could breathe again. As he and Jeremy left the DA’s office and started the trek back to their building, he said, “Robert should be released within the hour.”
“You going by to see him again?” Jeremy asked.
“Not sure. I’d like to check in with him later. For now, though, let’s head back and see if there are any updates to work on.”
“Jesus, I hate paperwork,” Jeremy complained.
Pete agreed but simply nodded. Two hours later, Pete and Jeremy sat at their desks, the fluorescent lights overhead giving him a headache. The office hummed with the quiet sounds oftyping, the occasional shuffle of paper, and the muted chatter of deputies passing through the bullpen.
Both men were lost in the familiar rhythm of wrapping up case files—some neatly closed, others frustratingly inconclusive.
Across from them, Cybil, a determined young deputy studying for her detective exam, sifted through a stack of reports, eyes scanning details with the same intensity that had earned her a place working alongside them. She’d proven herself sharp, eager, and capable. All the qualities they respected.
Pete broke the silence first. “We never got anything back from the lab on that old meth trailer we processed a couple of weeks ago,” he said, rubbing his jaw as he stared at the incomplete report in front of him. “No hits on prints or any of the old supplies.”
Jeremy let out a low whistle and shook his head. “Typical,” he muttered. “Thing’s gotta be disposed of properly before it turns into a toxic death trap. I mean, you let that crap sit too long, and you’re asking for a hazardous materials disaster. Not to mention, we don’t want some idiot cooking up a new batch out there.”
“How is it disposed of?” Cybil asked.
“You wouldn’t believe the steps,” Jeremy moaned. “It involves DEA, the local government, HAZMAT, environmental agencies, and then, when everyone is satisfied, a certified meth lab removal contractor comes in to evaluate and destroy.”
“Good grief!” Cybil shook her head. “And who pays for all that?”
“Usually the land owner. But I have no idea what they’ll do with this one,” Jeremy replied.
Pete nodded in agreement, already reaching for the closure form. “For now, I’m going to file it and close out the report.”
Jeremy exhaled, drumming his fingers against the desk. “Sounds good. Always hate to have things left hanging, but all we can do is our best.”
Just then, Terry walked in, his boots scuffing against the floor as he pulled up a chair near them. He carried the weight of experience in the faint lines of his face and the casual yet purposeful way he moved.
“I got a call from my counterpart up in Philly,” Terry said, stretching out his legs. “He knew we had a Lashawn Tate down here and that you’ve spoken to Detective Russo.”
Pete sat up a little straighter. “Yeah, that’s right, Captain. Did he have anything else to add?”
Terry’s expression darkened slightly. “He said they’ve run into some gang members who claim affiliation just for protection, but Lashawn? He was the real deal. Active member. I told him that Lashawn would be spending a good chunk of his life in our prison system. That seemed to make him happy.”
Jeremy smirked. “Bet it did.”
As Terry stood to leave, Jeremy shot him a knowing look. “Oh, by the way, we talked to Cedric about Robert. He agreed there was no reason to charge him, so he’s being released. And, Sandra O’Neill was there.”
Terry paused, his expression carefully neutral, only giving a small dip of his chin in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I heard.”
He turned slightly, prepared to walk away, when Jeremy added, “Pretty lady.”
Pete knew that tone. Knew that grin, too. Terry’s face remained impassive, but his grunt of agreement made Jeremy laugh outright. Pete, unable to help himself, kicked Jeremy’s shin under the desk.
“You fucker.” Pete chuckled as Terry walked away without another word.
“Better you than me getting on the Captain’s bad side. Although, as your partner, if you piss him off, he’s likely to take it out on me, too.”
Before Jeremy could respond, Cybil glanced up from her file, brows furrowed. “What is the G-Shine?”
