Hidden in the Blood: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 5)

Chapter Fifty-Four: Joanie, Tuesday

Fucking #hotcoplangley!

In the two days Joanie spent grieving the loss of her boyfriend, the creeps made hay with the pictures and videos of her giving her statement, and the rumours of her relationship with the deceased. She was all over the Internet now, the subject of lewd gossip and innuendo. She couldn't even make herself read the comments on the various social media sites, not if she wanted to stay sane; thankfully, she had no social media presence, because she was sure the trolls would have found her there, and she already felt low enough.

Worse, she couldn't even lean on Fatima for support. Fatima had changed since the last time Joanie saw her. She was polite but cool with her now and obviously in mourning for Patrick. The two were paired for patrol today, maybe ill-advisedly, and neither of them spoke to each other except to perform their duties. Joanie surmised Fatima felt betrayed by her swooping in on the man on whom Fatima had called dibs, never mind that the woman had never made a move or that Patrick hadn't been interested. Joanie could sympathize. Sisterhood had its unwritten rules, and Joanie should have respected them; maybe if she had, she wouldn't be feeling so terrible right now, and she and Fatima could have supported each other through this challenging time.

She sat and ate her lunch while her partner performed her prayers at the prescribed times of day, and Fatima thanked her but said no more as they drove off. It was a routine day of patrol, but a bubble of tension seemed to build between them, threatening to burst at any moment.

Finally, when the day was nearly over, she couldn't take it anymore and said, "Look, Fatima, I'm sorry, okay?"

The other woman gave her the side eye as she drove, keeping her focus on the road. She cleared her throat and said, "You have nothing to apologize for."

"No, you're wrong. You're more than my colleague, Fatima, you're my friend. I let my hormones get the best of me and went after someone you had your eye on. That wasn't cool."

Fatima shrugged with her hands on the wheel. "I had no real claim to him and, like you said, work relationships are a bad idea. You proved that point quite well."

It was both absolution and reprimand, and Joanie accepted both equally. "Still, I'm sorry you had to find out about Patrick's death that way, that he was driving away from my house when it happened. I didn't even have the courage to tell you because I knew you--"

"It's fine, all right?!" Fatima snapped irritably. 

Joanie flinched and shut her mouth, staring straight ahead.

After a minute, Fatima sighed wearily and said, "Look, I'm mainly grieving the loss of my partner. Your relationship with him matters little to me right now; I'm trying to grapple with the fact that I'm never going to see him again."

Joanie saw a tear rolling down her face and felt wretched. "All right," she said. "Look, I've asked Baker to be part of any team that arrests these guys. If you want to avenge his death, you should do the same."

Fatima grunted in disgust. "I'm not like you, Joanie. I'm not a decorated hero who thinks strapping on and charging into battle is the way to solve everything."

Joanie felt stung. "That's not how I am. I got that medal for being shot after making a split-second decision. I might not even do it the same way if I had a chance to do it over again." She stopped herself from saying more. It was the closest she'd ever come to confessing to a colleague that her shot wasn't clean.

"Well, whatever. You were terrifying at that podium. I wouldn't want to be the guys who did this if you catch them."

"Well, thanks, but the likelihood I'll be on that team is low, seeing as I'm too close to this."