class. Sixteen-week course. Half washed out before the end. Ex-athletes with beer bellies couldn’t even do a push-up. Academy was okay. Learned the phone book, spit and polish, a few training scenarios, but not much about actually being a cop.”
“Phone book?”
“Policies and procedures, general orders. Paperwork basically. Plus physical training. Near the end they put me on a Christmas detail in Georgetown by myself with no gun and no orders.”
“What’d you do?”
“Wandered around, wrote some parking tickets, and smoked some cigarettes.”
“Law school was boring too.”
“I started out on the north end of Georgia Avenue. They called it the Gold Coast, because it was relatively safe.”
“And?”
“And I hated it. Didn’t put on the shield and gun to be safe. I wanted to get into Crime Patrol. They hit the whole city, not some lousy five-block radius. They went after the good stuff.”
“Not drug dealers then?”
“Lock up druggies you’re just padding crime stats. CP went after the burglars, the armed robbers, the murderers, and the drug dealers turned exterminators. That was where the action was.” She paused. “Now I’m on probation and working for a college professor. And I can’t even dream about holding my Glock 37 again without heading back to lockup. Whoop-de-do.”
“I know we don’t know each other that well, but if you ever want to talk about things, Mace, I’m here.”
“I’m more of a forward thinker.” She stood. “Ladies’ room,” she said. “Be back in a minute.”
After doing her business Mace came out of the stall, went to the sink, and splashed water on her face. As she stared in the mirror Beth’s words came at her like hollow-points.
Quit screwing up. Trust me.
Mace didn’t want to screw up. She did trust her sister. She sure as hell didn’t want to go back to prison. Agent Kelly’s words also came back to her, though.
She groaned. This was a total mental conflict. Her head felt ready to explode from the pressure.
At least you’ll have a shot.
She splashed more water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror again.
“Scrub as hard as you want, the scum won’t come off.”
Mace whirled around to see Mona Danforth standing by the door.
CHAPTER 35
ARE YOU following me?” Mace snapped at D.C.’s chief prosecutor.
In response, Mona locked the door to the ladies’ room.
“If you don’t open that door I will use your head to crack it open.”
“Threatening an officer of the court?”
“Engaging in unlawful detainment?” Mace shot back.
“Just thought I’d do you a little favor.”
“Great. You can slit your wrists in the stall over there. I’ll call the EMTs once you’ve fully bled out.”
“I know all about Beth’s little plan.”
“Really? What little plan might that be?”
Mona snapped open her tiny purse, sauntered over to the mirror, and reapplied her makeup and lipstick while she spoke. Mace so wanted to stuff her in a toilet, blond hair first.
“Why, getting you reinstated, of course. You were set up, drugged up, forced to commit all those crimes, blah blah blah. Poor little Mace. The same crap the jury refused to believe.” Mona closed her purse, turned and leaned her butt against the sink counter. “So Beth is sending her best detectives to work on the case in the hopes that some miracle will occur that will prove your innocence.”
“I am innocent.”
“Oh, please. Save it for someone who cares. But it won’t work because I’m way ahead of her. In fact, I’m so far ahead of her that I don’t mind telling you all about it. Then you can go running to Beth and tell her like you always do when you’re in trouble.”
Mace tried her best to keep her voice calm. “Tell her what exactly?”
Mona eyed her with clear contempt. “There are six people who would need to sign off on your reinstatement even if Beth finds some evidence of your innocence.”
“And if she does I would assume these people would sign.”
“It’s not that simple. Slam-dunk evidence is never going to happen. If she finds an eyewitness I’ll convince them the testimony was coerced by an overzealous police chief who will stop at nothing to see her beloved little sister exonerated. And anything else she brings to the table I’ll show it was tainted or even fabricated for the exact same reason. And since I’m not a believer in letting the other side hit first, I’ve already spoken with all of the necessary signatories, including the dear mayor, who had me over for dinner last week, and laid the groundwork for the overwhelming validity of my argument.”
“They’ll never