CHAP 2 — Want Another Beating?
Sophie stopped breathing.
I saw it through the office blinds.
Her body folded inward. One hand rose to cover her mouth. The other clutched the torn shoulder of her sweater.
Margaret saw her and pointed.
“There you are. Get up.”
Officer Brady stepped forward. “Ma’am, you need to lower your voice.”
Margaret did not even look at him.
That was how money behaved when it believed rooms belonged to it.
I opened my office door and stepped into the lobby.
“Margaret,” I said, “back away from my office.”
She laughed.
Not nervously.
Not politely.
Like I had forgotten who she believed she was.
“Do not start acting official with me, Claire. That girl is my daughter-in-law, and I am taking her home.”
“She is not going anywhere unless she chooses to.”
Margaret’s face tightened.
“She chose to make a scene.”
One of the lawyers touched her elbow. “Mrs. Whitaker—”
She jerked away.
“No. I am done watching this family be humiliated by weak women.”
Sophie made a small sound behind me.
Margaret heard it and leaned sideways, trying to see past my shoulder.
“You think running here makes you safe?” she snapped. “After everything we did for your parents? After all the money we poured into that bankrupt circus your father called a business?”
I moved fully in front of the office door.
“Margaret, this is a police station. Choose your next words carefully.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You are the one who should be careful. You married into my family and forgot your place.”
I felt the whole lobby watching us now.
Good.
Let them watch.
Let them remember.
Margaret pointed toward Sophie.
“You want another beating to wake you up?!”
Silence slammed into the room.
Officer Brady’s face changed.
One lawyer closed his eyes.
The other whispered, “Margaret, stop talking.”
Too late.
I turned my head just slightly.
“Officer Brady.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“Record this interaction immediately.”
His phone was already in his hand. So was the desk audio recorder.
Margaret blinked.
“What did you just say?”
I looked back at Sophie through the glass.
“Sophie, do you want protection tonight?”
Her eyes moved from Margaret to the lawyers, then to me.
For a moment, she looked impossibly young.
Then she nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
I faced Margaret again.
“Then Sophie Whitaker is now under police protection as a victim and witness in a domestic violence investigation.”
One lawyer lifted both hands.
“Captain Donovan, there has clearly been a misunderstanding.”
“No,” I said. “The misunderstanding ended when your client admitted physical violence and threatened more of it inside my station.”
Margaret’s face went crimson.
“You ungrateful little street cop.”
May you like
I stepped closer.
“No, Margaret. Tonight I remembered exactly where I stand.”
