Double Standards, page 3
Before I could tell him my name, I heard Terry call Sophie’s name. I stiffened, and one look at Sophie told me we needed to leave right then. I half-waved goodbye and ushered my best friend out of the gallery.
I glanced once more over my shoulder to see if he had followed me, but his attention had shifted to an older woman who had stepped in front of him, so I turned back to Sophie and put the whole altercation behind me.
All I was left with was the memory of his touch, the faint smell of his cologne lingering on my skin, and unhinged guilt winding its way through me.
Chapter 1

Callie
10 months later
I sat at my desk in my office, staring frustratedly at my computer. Some jackass was trying to hijack my case over in Manhattan, and I wasn’t having any of it.
Granted, it was a cold case for the both of us, and he was apparently reviewing some cold cases, but I clung to that case for dear life because it was the only one of mine that was left open. Plus, I knew that if I handed it over, I’d never see it again, which would mean it was out of my jurisdiction for eternity, and I just couldn’t give up that much control.
I read his email again to calculate how to respond.
Ms. Eden:
Per my previous email, I have been assigned to review multiple cold cases in my precinct. As such, one of those cases is this one. It’s the only case I have yet to obtain all necessary files to review. You and the officer formerly working on this case did not communicate much, so we have many missing documents that may help us close this case.
I urge you to please either have your case files faxed over or delivered. If you wish to sign everything over to us, we can arrange for the files to be delivered and we are happy to contact the FBI to take over.
Warmest regards,
Liam Chandler
NYPD Detective
Midtown North Precinct
I huffed in response to his bossy email. “Per my previous email” was the professionally etiquette way of saying, “You’re a dumbass.”
I knew deep down that it made more sense to hand everything over to the FBI since it was spread across multiple jurisdictions, but I also knew that since the trail had gone cold the FBI wouldn’t even look at it. That’s where a majority of my hesitations were.
My fingers flew over my keyboard at near lightning speeds as I typed out a response.
Mr. Chandler:
The case files you are requesting must be authorized by myself and my Commanding Officer, Terrence Levinsky, as I’m sure you are aware. However, I’m sure you are also aware that since this is a cold case in both jurisdictions, the FBI wouldn’t give this case so much as a second thought unless the perpetrator became active again.
In the event that were to happen, I would happily reconsider. Given its current state, I’d feel more comfortable if the local crimes were left to me and my team, as we know it best.
I hope you can understand.
Best,
Callie Eden
Homicide Detective
Newark Police Department, 3rd Precinct
I locked my computer, grabbed my purse, and pushed myself away from my desk. It was lunchtime and I was ready to take a break.
My heels resonated on the tile floor below me as I rounded the corner and paused at Sophie’s office. Her door was ajar, so I lightly tapped on it before pushing it all the way open. She was looking over a case file and using a yellow highlighter on what appeared to be phone records. She looked up when she heard my knock.
She flashed me a perfect-toothed smile, her berry-colored lipstick complimenting her dark aesthetic beautifully. “Hey, lady. What’s going on?”
I looked down at my Tiffany’s watch. A brief and distant memory of my one night stand at last year’s Christmas Gala flashed in my mind, as it often did whenever I wore this watch now. “It’s noon. I figured you’d want to go grab some lunch with me.”
Sophie sighed loudly, closed her file, locked it up, and rose to her feet. She was a tad shorter than me, and since we were both very small women, especially for our industry, the use of heels helped people take us more seriously. “I’m so glad you came in and reminded me. I’m starving.”
I giggled but followed my best friend to the stairs and out of our building.
As Sophie and I wrapped up our lunch date, my phone pinged with an email. I groaned and picked up my phone, and instant disdain ran through my veins when I saw the name.
“Oh, no. I know that look. Who’s emailing you?” Sophie asked.
I rolled my eyes and refrained from reading the email just yet. “This guy over in New York. Do you remember the Garrison case?”
Sophie’s already dark eyes darkened further as she recalled the case I was referring to. “You mean the one that almost drove you to insanity and death, who knows how many times? How could I forget?”
I cocked an eyebrow at her, but chose to ignore her dramatic antics.
Near the end, the cases in New York were out of my jurisdiction anyway, but I monitored them from afar. Those detectives ran into every dead end we did, so the trail went cold and everything just… stopped.
“No one from New York bothered reaching out after we put the case on a back burner. But now, this detective from Manhattan is insisting I sign over my case files to him since he’s reviewing cold cases. If I do that, then I’ll never see it again,” I explained to her, twisting my lips at the end as I contemplated what I should do.
My best friend exhaled sharply. “Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. You were in a really bad place for months, Cal. There was a reason Terry mandated you attend therapy.”
I grimaced at her. I knew she was just looking out for my well-being, but I didn’t necessarily think I was in the wrong for feeling the way I felt. “Maybe you’re right, Soph,” I responded quietly. “I’d just hate to look back and regret handing it over. I know this case better than anyone else, and I know the families. No one else can say that about those victims and their loved ones.”
She gave me a sad smile as we stood to leave the restaurant, wrapping a scarf around her neck. “Just think long and hard about it before you make a decision. Make sure you have peace over it.”
I nodded in agreement, and we walked back to the precinct in near silence. It wasn’t awkward; it was the kind of silence that we felt was necessary.
I wasn’t the same woman I was at last year’s Christmas Gala. Then, I’d just started an exciting new part of my career. I had a budding relationship, and my first case ever was that of a serial killer. I was still enjoying everything in my life. Shortly thereafter, things began to change for me, and I wasn’t that happy and fun Callie that everyone knew and loved. This damn case did break me, and for a while I wasn’t sure I could come back from it.
I looked over at Sophie once more, feeling thankful to have her by my side. I was especially grateful that she’d gotten the promotion to detective in March, so we were doing this together, even though we weren’t partners anymore.
I reflected back on when I was presented the Garrison case nearly a year ago, and how it almost destroyed me and my career.
“I see, thank you. No, we’ll head over there right away. Just stay put so you can brief me,” my new partner, Charles Hale, said before hanging up his office phone, while I sat and reviewed some files at my desk, pretending like I wasn’t listening. Hale was in his late forties, and a damn good detective, so I was elated to be his partner.
“It’s your lucky day, kid. A new case has just come in,” Hale announced.
I beamed and nearly fell out of my chair from excitement. “My first case? I’m coming, right?”
“Slow down, kid. I’ve never seen someone so excited to go look at a dead body,” he responded, somewhere between concerned and amused at my behavior.
I rolled my shoulders back to contain my enthusiasm. “Sorry, it’s just that I’m excited to get a case after only five days in this position.”
Hale strolled to the door of our office and then looked back at me still sitting at my desk.
“Well, are you coming or not?”
“Oh, yes! I’m coming!” I cried out. I quickly grabbed my bag and jacket and then raced after him. “So what do we know?” I asked as we hurried to the elevator.
“We know that a 29-year-old woman named Hanna Garrison went missing last Wednesday afternoon. It was reported by her husband, Paul, when she didn’t come home. A few hours ago, her body was found in Liberty Park. I was just waiting to hear back on identification. I guess it’s pretty apparent that it’s her, which is good,” he informed me as we walked off the elevator.
I exhaled, my stomach feeling a little uneasy. “Wow, that’s…”
“Part of the job,” he finished. “It happens, and often. Which I’m sure you know, coming from patrol.”
“I mean, yes, of course. It’s just…” my voice trailed off. “Never mind. I’ll follow your lead.”
Coming out of my reverie, I parted ways with Sophie and meandered back to my office. Charles Hale was a fantastic first partner to have, but back in June he accepted a job offer for Captain up in Massachusetts, where he and his wife were from. He felt comfortable handing the reigns over to me at that point, and I couldn’t say I didn’t miss him.
As I settled back into my desk, I opened my filing cabinet and pulled Hanna Garrison’s case file out. Every once in a while, I would pull it out to remind myself how much I’d learned and grown since I first started this position. As I held the file in my hands, I could feel the all too familiar sinking feeling that had permanently rooted itself in the pit of my stomach.
I opened the file and scanned the crime scene photos quickly before snapping it shut and putting it back in the cabinet. No, I thought. Sophie’s right. I can’t go down this road.
I clicked on the unopened email from one Mr. Liam Chandler, and read his response.
Ms. Eden:
I understand your concerns, however I am within legal grounds to request these case files. We both took an oath to protect and serve our communities, and I truly believe that having all the information in one place would greatly benefit the both of us, as well as our communities in helping to solve this grisly crime.
This is my last week with the Midtown North Precinct, so I’m trying to wrap up any loose ends and give my final notes on these cold cases, so I can brief my replacement prior to my departure.
All the best,
Liam Chandler
NYPD Detective
Midtown North Precinct
I gritted my teeth. He made a good point, and I made the decision then to go down and inform Terry. As irritated as I was by the man I was emailing, I knew it was for the greater good.
I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. No doubt part of my bitterness resulted from pent-up sexual frustration. I was still dating Owen Fisher, and while things got serious fast, they were starting to fizzle out, and had been for a few months. Maybe it was the lack of a sex life, or maybe it was me. I wasn’t sure.
My therapist said I could be feeling a sense of obligation to stay with him after what I’d gone through in the last year, and everything he had done for me. He was there for me, so loving and supportive despite it all. Blah, blah, blah.
She was the expert here, not me, so I definitely wasn’t ruling out her diagnosis.
I believed it ran deeper than that. I needed more than what he could offer me, and I was only now starting to recognize that.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. When was the last time I even got off? I mentally counted back the months it must have been, and before I knew it, I landed on Christmas Eve of last year. I gasped softly. No, that couldn’t have been the last time, because that would mean before that…
I was mortified at the realization that I’d only gotten laid once in the last year, and it was my one night stand. The memory of that night often times kept me going, and I frequently regretted not getting the man’s name. Yes, technically I cheated on Owen, but I was drunk, horny, and at the time Owen and I weren’t serious.
That’s grounds for justification… right?
I groaned in frustration and stormed out of my office. I couldn’t sit and think about my relationship anymore without getting frustrated. Yes, we had agreed to be celibate early on, but I didn’t realize it was a long-term agreement. The conversation to revisit that never went anywhere, even though I told him I needed more physical touch to feel connected to him.
That never mattered to him.
I shouldn’t care so much because I loved him, but I couldn’t help it.
I trotted downstairs and over to my boss’s open office door. Terry Levinsky, the Commanding Officer of Newark’s Third Precinct, a decorated hero, and a genuine, kind man sat behind his large mahogany desk. He glanced up when he saw me appear in his doorway, peering at me over his glasses.
“Callie, dear, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He wondered, sitting back in his leather chair. He wore his Captain’s uniform, the crispy white of his shirt a stark contrast to his deep brown skin.
I gave him an awkward smile before taking a seat in one of the chairs across from him. “So, I’ve been thinking, and I think it’s the right decision to hand the Garrison file over to NYPD. There’s a detective in the Midtown North Precinct that’s reviewing cold case files before he resigns and wants to make sure his replacements are well-informed,” I blurted before I could change my mind.
Terry raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Callie, that doesn’t mean you have to sign over everything. Just send them a copy. It’s as simple as that.” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, as if it were an easy decision I hadn’t spent days mulling over.
I flattened my lips. “Okay. I’ll arrange to have everything faxed over. I just wanted you to know since you’ll have to sign off on it.”
He nodded slowly at me as I rose to my feet. “Wait, Callie, before you leave. I wanted you to know we found a partner for you. He’ll be in this week to get his paperwork signed, and will likely start by next Monday.”
I froze mid-step and half-turned to look at him. “But, sir, I haven’t prepared anything for a new partner.”
Terry smiled up at me with warm brown eyes. “It was kind of unexpected. We’ve been having a hard time finding you a replacement partner, and this gentleman is a top-notch detective. We weren’t sure up until earlier today where, exactly, he’d be going.”
I sucked my lower lip in nervously. “Alright. Do you have any information on him?”
He winked at me. “Callie, I trust you’ll be on your best behavior, right?”
I frowned. “Of course. So, can you tell me—,” I started to ask before his office door opened.
“Sir, your two o’clock is here,” Terry’s assistant, Hailey, announced as she poked her head in.
He looked at me and shrugged. “We’ll talk more later.”
I had no choice but to nod and accept my fate. I left his office, slightly annoyed that I didn’t have any information on my last-minute new partner. I wasn’t really a big fan of surprises, let alone not having all the necessary information I needed to prepare.
I guess that’s what made me good at my job.
Liam
Mr. Chandler:
Thank you for reminding me of the oath I took and the reason I pursued this profession. Upon further consideration, I will be faxing over a copy of everything we have.
Good luck with your future endeavors.
Best,
Callie Eden, Homicide Detective
Newark Police Department, 3rd Precinct
I smirked at my computer screen. After days of emailing this woman back and forth, she had finally conceded to letting me do my damn job. I wouldn’t have been so persistent if I wasn’t in my final days here at Midtown North.
Oddly enough, I was pretty sure I was transferring to her precinct, but I hadn’t reviewed the job offer just yet. Newark was figuring out where to place me when an old family friend, Terry Levinsky, reached out with a job offer. I was elated because I had grown up with Terry, and he was in large part why I chose a career in law enforcement.
I took a break from reviewing cold case files and started to pack up my office. I had to wait for the fax to come through anyway, so I figured I might as well get a head start on my transition.
My decision to transfer only began a couple of weeks ago. My divorce had finally been finalized, and I thanked God for my incredible attorney. Thanks to him I had no alimony; in fact, my ex-wife now owed me alimony for the damages she’d incurred during our marriage. There was so much resentment between the two of us now, and New York City felt too small for us both to be living in. We had the same social circle, worked and lived in the same area, went to the same restaurants. It felt suffocating, like I couldn’t escape her.
I secretly suspected she wasn’t entirely over me, either, because she would pop up in places she knew I’d be. It was why I had to get out of the city and leave. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going; I couldn’t risk it getting back to her. I had never been more grateful than I was for Terry Levinsky in that moment.
Within a few hours, one of the patrol officers began bringing in boxes of faxed case files from the serial killer infamously nicknamed “The Wring Bearer.” Though the cases had gone cold, it was important that someone knew the details of this case when I left. The sergeant detective who had formerly worked this case handed it over to me when she retired, and told me it was one of the cases that kept her up at night.
So yes, it was important to me that this information fell in the right hands.
As my day concluded, I typed out a quick response to the woman who made my final days unnecessarily difficult.
