John looked wrecked. His eyes were heavy, his shoulders slumped.
"This morning," he said, voice low, "we got a domestic dispute call. Husband and wife. Size mismatch like you wouldn't believe — he was built like a linebacker, she barely hit five feet. Guy pulls me aside, swears his wife's been beating him."
Jack blinked. "Seriously?"
John gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah. I thought it was a joke. Did some quick mediation, calmed things down, left. Couple hours later, Bishop and I get another call. Same house."
He paused. The table had gone silent.
"When we got there…" John swallowed. "She was on top of him, stabbing him in the neck with an ice pick. Over and over. By the time we pulled her off, he was gone. Too much blood loss. And I just…" His voice cracked. "I had my hands on his neck. I could feel the life leaving him. Five minutes earlier he'd been talking to me."
He shook his head. "I thought I was ready for this job. But nothing prepares you for that."
Jack draped an arm around him, managing a crooked smile. "I thought you'd blame yourself. Or beat yourself up for not saving him. But there's nothing you could've done. When my parents died, I was in a coma. By the time I woke up, it was already over. All I can say is… let time do its work."
John's eyes softened. He pulled Jack into a rough hug. "Thanks, man. Sometimes you don't feel like a kid barely older than my son. You feel like an old friend I've known forever."
Jack shot the two women across the table an exaggeratedly wary look. "You hear that? The old guy's trying to take advantage of me."
They burst out laughing, breaking the tension.
Jack tapped his beer bottle toward Lucy. "Alright, your turn. How was day one? Did Bradford go easy on you?"
Lucy froze, face twisted in indecision. Finally, she muttered, "Honestly? He didn't come after me. I think he's… soft-hearted."
Hannah raised an eyebrow. "Soft? Bradford? No, he's strict. That's different. If you think he's being hard on you, it's because he doesn't want you dying on the street. In this job, incompetence gets people killed."
Jack leaned in with a sly grin. "So how'd you figure out he's a good guy? This morning you wanted to strangle him."
Lucy hesitated again, eyes darting around the table. "I… I don't want this to go beyond us. Promise."
The three of them instantly held up their hands. "We swear."
Lucy took a breath. "This afternoon, we arrested a dealer. While we were cuffing him, a homeless woman wandered over — definitely an addict. Bradford stopped. Talked to her. Then gave her all the cash in his wallet. When I asked why, he said… she was his wife. She's been missing over a year."
The table went still.
"Oh my God," Hannah whispered, hand over her mouth. "That must be Isabella."
All eyes turned to her.
"Tim Bradford's wife," Hannah explained. "She was DEA. Undercover. She got hooked during a mission and disappeared. Tim's been pretending no one knows, but trust me — half the department's been quietly looking for her."
Lucy nodded solemnly, guilt written all over her face.
The others turned toward Jack, who was quietly spinning his beer bottle.
"What?" he said innocently. "Why're you all staring at me?"
"Because it's your turn," Lucy snapped.
Jack sighed dramatically. "Angela threatened me not to say a word. Unless…" He raised his brows. "Second round's on you."
"Four Buds!" John flagged down the waitress immediately.
Jack took a slow pull, then said, "Fine. Today, Angela and I hauled in a pair of burglars. Lesbians. They decided to… celebrate in the back of the cruiser."
John and Lucy practically fell off their chairs laughing. Hannah, however, grabbed Jack in a mock chokehold.
"Angela already? Calling her by her first name? That's fast," she teased, eyes narrowed.
Jack shot her a warning look, then protested, "Didn't you say I needed to get on her good side? That I should learn from her so I can keep up in training? Do you realize I'm cooking breakfast for two and lunch for three now?"
Lucy exchanged a glance with John, then leaned forward with a grin. "So what exactly is going on between you two?"
Jack raised both hands. "Relax. Hannah and I were friends before. Now she's my landlord. I cook three meals a day to cover rent. That's it."
"Hmph." Hannah folded her arms, then smirked. "For now. The LAPD doesn't allow office romances. If one happens, somebody has to transfer — or a rookie could get fired. But it doesn't matter. I've already put in an application to the FBI. Once I'm out, Jack's mine. I love him."
Jack nearly choked on his beer, coughing hard. He didn't notice the sudden stiffness on John and Lucy's faces.
The night wound down. Driving home, Hannah finally asked, "So… John and Lucy? They're together?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah. Started in the last couple months at the academy. We kept it quiet, but Zoe pegged them both for Wilshire anyway."
Hannah scrunched her nose. "The age gap's huge. Weird."
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, staying wisely silent.
After a beat, he changed the subject. "Hey. I was checking out the Wall of Honor today. Saw the names Rick Hunter and Dee Dee McCall. Ever heard of them?"
(End of Chapter 5)