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"My best friend's annoying sister's boyfriend."

"That's a mouthful," Bert said.

"She's a mouthful." Sawyer took a slow sip of his drink. He watched the booth without blinking for another few seconds. Then he turned back to the table and picked up the conversation where it had left off, and the moment passed.

The morning of my next shift, I walked into the office with a plan. I'd say something to Abbott during the handover. Captain to captain. I've been through a divorce. I know what it does. If you need to talk, I'm here.

His bottom drawer was stuck half open. I pulled it to clear the jam and found two prescription bottles with names on them that weren't his.

One was a painkiller. The other was a benzodiazepine.

I was still holding them when Abbott walked in for the briefing.

"You went through my things."

"These are yours?"

He didn't answer.

"Your crew told me about the divorce. I came in today planning to talk to you about it. I've been through one. I know what it does." I kept my voice where I kept it on bad calls. "But this isn't just a divorce."

"You don't know what I'm dealing with."

"I don't. But your crew does, and they're scared." I nodded toward the bottles. "Those aren't yours. Which means someone else's name is on a prescription you're using. That's not something I can look away from."

Abbott looked at the bottles for a long time.

"My wife left me. I'm not sleeping. I'm doing what I have to do to show up for my crew."

"With someone else's prescription?"

"You don't know the first thing about what's going on in my life."

"You're right. I don't." I leaned forward. "But I know what your crew sees. And I know what the chief is going to see if this comes across his desk."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's the opposite. I'm telling you before I tell anyone else. That's the only thing I can give you. Get help, Soren. If you do it yourself, you keep some control over what happens next."

He stood there and I watched him calculate whether to deny it, report me for opening his drawer, or walk out and pretend this conversation never happened. He had options. I could see him running through every one of them.

He picked up the bottles, took his jacket off the hook, and walked out into the bay without saying a word.

CHAPTER 21

Five Miles Away

JANINE

Most dispatch centers separate fire and police. Ours doesn't. We run a consolidated center, which means on any given shift I could be sending an engine to a kitchen fire and patrol units to a domestic in the same hour.

"My daughter. He has my daughter. He came to the house and they were arguing and now he has a gun and he won't let her go."

The woman on the line was talking so fast I had to ask her to slow down twice.

"Ma'am, I need you to tell me where you are."

"I'm in my kitchen. They're in the living room. I can hear him through the door."