The next day, the police station was a hive of activity. Officers moved swiftly through the halls, exchanging clipped words and determined nods. The air was thick with tension—not just from the usual daily hustle, but from the weight of the ongoing case that had thrown the entire precinct into disarray.
The daily briefing was already in progress when Liam stepped into the room. He took a seat toward the back, his expression unreadable as always. The Sargent stood at the front, running through assignments with brisk efficiency.
"Now," the Sargent said, pausing as he scanned his list, "we need to discuss the case involving Officer Emily Carter."
The room went silent. Whispers died instantly as every officer turned toward the front with varying expressions of surprise, discomfort, and curiosity. Liam raised his hand slowly.
"I'd like to take the lead on this investigation," he said, his voice cool and composed.
A ripple of murmurs traveled through the room. It was a bold request. Rarely did anyone ask to handle a case involving a fellow officer, especially one as controversial and emotionally charged as this.
The Sargent's gaze fixed on Liam, thoughtful. He nodded once. "Everyone else, dismissed. Liam, my office."
Liam followed the Sargent into his office, closing the door behind them. The older man sat behind his desk, gesturing for Liam to take the seat across from him.
"You're not one to make impulsive decisions," the Sargent said, his tone even. "So, explain."
Liam kept his voice level. "Emily was a respected officer. This case has too many inconsistencies to be left to chance. I want to ensure we uncover the truth."
The Sargent leaned back, fingers steepled. "You're aware of the scrutiny you'll face. Colleagues, internal affairs, the media... they'll all be watching."
Liam gave a small nod. "Let them. I'll be impartial."
After a long pause, the Sargent relented. "Fine. You've got clearance. Just remember, your badge doesn't protect you if you screw this up."
Liam didn't respond. He didn't need to.
Heading to the holding cells, Liam's footsteps echoed down the corridor. His thoughts churned—not with emotions, but with questions, timelines, possibilities. Emily Carter wasn't just another suspect. She was one of them, a cop. And if there was even a slight chance she was innocent, someone had to find it.
He reached her cell and motioned to the guard. "I need a private session with the suspect."
The guard nodded, unlocking the door. Emily was sitting on the edge of her cot, her hands clenched in her lap. Her eyes lifted slowly as Liam entered, and for a split second, hope flashed across her face.
Then he spoke. "Officer Carter, I'm here to gather your statement regarding the events of the night Alex Stanton was killed."
The cold, professional tone cut through her like a blade.
Emily's shoulders tensed. "You're calling me a suspect now?"
Liam didn't flinch. "That's what you are until proven otherwise. Walk me through everything. From the moment you arrived home."
Emily swallowed the lump in her throat, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. "I came back late. Alex was already inside. Drunk. He must've used the spare key."
Liam nodded slightly. "Go on."
"He was slurring his words, staggering. I told him to go freshen up. I didn't want to deal with him like that. I thought... maybe if he sobered up a bit, we could talk."
She paused, her hands shaking now.
"But he got angry. He said I was pushing him away. Then he tried to—" she broke off, struggling. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. I kept saying no. I told him to stop, to go and bathe. But he wouldn't listen."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I thought I was going to be assaulted in my own home."
Liam kept his tone neutral. "And then?"
Emily closed her eyes. "He pinned me to the couch. I kept struggling, trying to grab something to push him off. Then, out of nowhere, there was a gunshot. He froze—then slumped."
She was crying now, but quietly. "I didn't shoot him. I didn't even see the gun. It just... happened."
Liam made a note on his pad. "Was the weapon found?"
"The gun? No. But the bullet was…was..on his body when he went….limp"
Liam nodded again. "Were there any signs of forced entry? Anyone else who could have been there?"
"No signs. But someone could've come in through the back. It's never been the most secure."
Liam leaned back in his chair. His expression didn't change, but his mind was racing. The logistics, the angles, the timing—everything had to be accounted for. And right now, her story introduced more questions than answers.
Still, her trauma looked real. But that wasn't evidence.
"We'll verify the timeline," he said simply. "Forensics is analyzing the trajectory of the bullet. If your story checks out, it'll show."
Emily gave a weak nod. "So you believe me?"
Liam didn't answer. Instead, he stood. "I'll return tomorrow. Don't expect favors from me, Emily. I'm here for the truth. Not justice. Not loyalty. The truth."
She didn't say anything as he walked away, the door clicking shut behind him.
Liam strode through the halls back to his office. His jaw was tight, eyes sharp. The pieces didn't fit. But neither did the idea that Emily, no matter how shaken, would commit cold-blooded murder.
But personal feelings had no place here, if she was guilty she would face the consequence of her actions if not she'd be set free. It's one of the two options.
He sat at his desk and opened a new file. On the tab, he wrote: Case File: Stanton – Carter Homicide Investigation.
He began typing, methodically entering everything she had said, comparing it with the preliminary reports. It would be a long night. But Liam was ready to dig—deeper than anyone else would.
Because if there was a shadow hiding in this case, Liam was going to find it.