Cause to Kill

“That’s my partner,” he said. “You see that? We solve crimes. Fuckin’ killers don’t stand a chance with the Black and the Finley at her back.”

“Back to work.” O’Malley clapped from his office door. “Black,” he called and waved her forward. “In my office.”

Connelly watched her from his desk; gave a curt, grimaced nod to Avery before he turned back to his desk. To Avery, it seemed like he was just shuffling papers around to try and look busy. She kept her eyes on him. After a few seconds – as suspected – he glanced back up. Pissed that he’d been caught, he growled and walked away.

“Close the door,” O’Malley said. “Sit down.”

Avery closed the door and sat.

“Good to have you back,” he said with averted eyes. “How you feeling?”

“I’m better. Thanks.”

“As I told you in the hospital, we have a few questions to tie everything up. Let me just go through those first.”

He read something off a piece of paper.

“Why did you abandon the crime scene at Villasco’s house?”

“He wasn’t our guy,” she said.

“How could you know that?” he asked and looked at her with curious intent. “The guy shot himself in the head. He worked at Devante. Case closed.”

Avery frowned.

“It didn’t feel right. He said something, something about family. I can’t remember it exactly, but it was like he was covering for someone. No minivan at the house, no room for taxidermy. He seemed lonely, lonely and afraid. It was bugging me, I couldn’t let it go, and on the list McGonagle gave me, I had one more lead to check.”

“How did Edwin Pesh become a suspect?”

“He lived in Watertown. It made sense that the killer lived in either Watertown or Belmont given the direction of his car from Lederman Park and Cambridge.”

“So on a hunch, you abandoned a crime scene, and your partner, and you headed over to Watertown on your own.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Hold on,” he said. “Not now. First answer the question.”

“Correct,” she replied.

“What made you call Ramirez? He’s out of commission. And 911?”

“As soon as I saw the minivan, I called Dan. I realized I might need help. The 911 call was made in the house. I was getting creeped out by all the animals.”

“Why not call Connelly? Or Thompson? Or even Finley. All of them were on your team.”

Avery looked up.

“Honestly? I wasn’t sure I could trust them.”

“So you decided to trust a guy that was recovering from a stab wound? Not a smart move, Avery. It worked out. Ramirez was smart enough to call for backup, but I expect more from someone I just promoted to lead detective. They’re your new teammates and you’ve got to learn how to play well on a team.”

When Avery was an attorney, it was every man for himself. Even when she’d been assigned to other lawyers in a research group, everyone was always trying to outdo the other so they could look good in front of the boss. It had been a cutthroat, soulless existence, and that existence had followed her into the A1.

“I can do better,” she said.

“Yeah, well, no one’s been very welcoming to you since you came upstairs, I get that. And until you personally handled those West Side Killers, you were pretty much persona non gratis downstairs too, right? Things are different now, Avery. You just solved a really big public case.”

“Am I back on Homicide?” She asked.

O’Malley raised his brows.

“‘Am I back on Homicide?’ Seriously? You defied my orders to stay away from the case. You left a crime scene. You ignored your partners and nearly got yourself killed. Do you think you deserve to be back on Homicide?”

“Yeah,” she said with a determined glint in her eyes. “I do.”

O’Malley smiled.

“How can I say no to a hero?”

He grinned wider.

“Of course you’re back!” he said. “Now get out of here. Take the rest of the day off. Come back Monday and start the week fresh. And while you’re basking in your current glory, do me a favor?” He ruffled around for a few pieces of paper. “Call the mayor. Here’s his personal line. And Miles Standish, too, the owner of Devante. I noticed both of them sent you flowers and a card.”

He stood and saluted her, and she was touched by the gesture.

“Great work, Avery.”

CHAPTER FORTY

On Saturday morning, Avery purged her apartment.

Boxes of photos were sifted through, along with newspaper articles from the time when she’d defended Howard Randall; clothing she’d worn as an attorney, everything from her past life – a life that no longer defined her. She kept photos of Rose, clothing that had special meaning, but most of it went into the trash.

Lights were turned on – all of them, which she’d never done before – and when she viewed the painted walls and the carpet and kitchen, she thought: you bought this place after Randall and right before you became a cop; it still reeks of your misery from that time. Just like you, this place needs to change.

It’s time, she realized, to sell it. To move on. To buy a new place in town, maybe somewhere closer to Rose – if she’d let her.

Avery stood out on her porch and stared at the sky and realized there was still something she had to do, something that would really put an end to the past.

She grabbed her car keys and headed out.

The ride to the South Bay House of Corrections was easy for her now; she’d made the trip so many times. She made a call on the way to reserve an appointment with Howard Randall.

“You can’t make appointments on the day of,” the woman said.

“This is a big step for me,” Avery replied. “I’m making an appointment.”

“I’m sorry, but we…”