Chapter 66 Pressure
Rowan
Silence.
Then Morales speaks again, slower now, measured. “If Calder acted outside his authority, he will be disciplined.”
“No,” I correct. “He will be finished.”
I step into my office, closing the door behind me. The quiet inside only sharpens my focus.
“You have one hour,” I say. “At the end of that hour, Calder is terminated, under investigation, and that hold at St. Thomas is gone. Or I will end your career alongside his.”
“That is a threat,” Morales says.
“It is a forecast,” I reply. “Choose wisely.”
I hear papers shuffling. A chair scraping back.
“We will handle it,” Morales says. “I promise.”
“You had better,” I say. “Because if that man so much as looks at her again, I will not stop at your department.”
I end the call without waiting for a response.
For a moment, I stand there, phone still in my hand, jaw tight.
Below me, the house is quieter now.
Violet is gone.
And I intend to make sure no one ever puts their hands on her again.
I hear Devin before I see him. His footsteps are unhurried, deliberate, like everything he does. He doesn’t knock. He never does.
“The hold’s gone,” he says, closing the door behind him. “Morales lifted it himself. I just got the call."
I don’t turn around. I’m still staring at the dark glass of the window, the reflection of my own expression barely visible.
“And Evan?” I ask.
“Being transported to Sunnyfields Burial Homes as we speak,” Devin replies. “Direct transfer. No stops. No interference.”
My jaw tightens.
“Good,” I say. “We’ll tell Violet once she’s home. Not now.”
“Agreed,” Devin says.
I finally turn and gesture to the chair across from my desk. “Sit.”
He does, folding his hands loosely, watching me the way he always does when he knows I’m about to cross a line. Or several.
I don’t bother easing into it.
“How do we take down a police department?” I ask. “Legally or otherwise. I want Calder gone. I want him destroyed. I want to make sure he never wears a badge again."
Devin doesn’t flinch.
“That’s not one question,” he says calmly. “That’s a campaign.”
“Then start planning,” I reply.
He considers me for a long moment. Not judging. Calculating.
“Legally,” he begins, “we dismantle him piece by piece. Internal affairs is only the opening act. We bury them in evidence. Misconduct. Abuse of power. Civil rights violations. Wrongful death. Emotional distress. Obstruction of burial. Harassment.”
He ticks each one off on his fingers.
“Every interaction he had with Violet becomes a sworn statement. Medical documentation for the bruising. Witness affidavits. Surveillance footage. His prior termination from his old department resurfaces publicly, with context. Especially the CI death.”
I feel something dark and satisfied coil in my chest.
“And the department?” I ask.
“We sue them,” Devin says flatly. “Hard. Federal if possible. Pattern of negligence. Failure to supervise. Failure to disclose prior misconduct. If Calder slipped through the cracks, it means someone greased them.”
“And if they didn’t slip?” I ask.
“Then someone hid him,” Devin replies. “Either way, heads roll.”
I move around the desk, leaning against it. “That’s the clean route.”
“Yes,” Devin says. “It takes time. Months. Possibly years.”
I smile without humor. “I don’t have patience.”
“I know,” he says. “Which is why there are… parallel pressures.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Careful.”
He smirks faintly. “I said pressures. Not crimes.”
“Go on.”
“Public exposure,” Devin continues. “Strategic leaks. Not lies. Truths released in an order that forces the department to cannibalize itself. Anonymous tips to oversight committees. Journalists who aren’t idiots. Civil liberties groups who salivate over cases like this.”
“And Calder?” I press.
“His reputation disintegrates first,” Devin says. “Before any verdict. Before any badge is officially taken. By the time the system finishes with him, he’ll already be unemployable.”
I nod once. “Good.”
Devin watches me carefully. “There is also the personal route.”
“That sounds illegal,” I say mildly.
“It skirts lines,” he corrects. “Background pressure. Financial audits. Old associates suddenly remembering things. Landlords. Ex-wives. Former partners. People who decide they no longer want to protect him.”
“You’re suggesting squeezing him,” I say.
“I’m suggesting,” Devin replies evenly, “that men like Calder are never as clean as they pretend. You don’t have to invent dirt. You just have to dig.”
I straighten.
“And if he runs?” I ask.
“He won’t,” Devin says. “He’s arrogant. He thinks he’s smarter than the system. Men like that always stay too long.”
Silence settles between us.
I look down at my hands. They’re steady. Too steady.
“He touched her,” I say quietly.
Devin’s expression hardens.
“Yes,” he agrees. “He did.”
“I don’t care about precedent,” I continue. “I don’t care about headlines. I want certainty. I want him incapable of ever doing this again.”
Devin nods slowly. “Then we make him radioactive.”
I look up. “Explain.”
“Every employer checks his name and sees lawsuits, investigations, allegations,” Devin says. “Even if he’s cleared of some, the volume alone makes him a liability. No department touches him. No security firm hires him. No private work. He becomes unemployable by association.”
“That’s not enough,” I say.
Devin meets my eyes. “It is when combined with surveillance.”
I tilt my head. “Careful.”
“Legal surveillance,” he clarifies. “Every move he makes while under investigation. One mistake. One slip. One threat. And we end him.”
I exhale slowly.
“This isn’t about revenge,” Devin adds. “This is about containment.”
I laugh quietly. “You say that like it’s comforting.”
“It should be,” he replies. “Because if this were revenge, I’d be telling you different things.”
I straighten, decision solidifying.
“Do it,” I say. “All of it. I want updates daily. I want Calder boxed in so tightly he can’t breathe without permission.”
Devin stands. “I’ll start immediately.”
He pauses at the door. “One more thing.”
“What.”
“This only works if Violet is insulated from it,” he says. “No details. No decisions. No exposure.”
I don’t hesitate. “She won’t touch any of this.”
He leaves, the door closing softly behind him.
I turn back to the window.
Somewhere across the city, Violet is being distracted. Protected. Kept unaware of the war about to be waged in her name.
Good.
Because Calder made one mistake he cannot undo.
He touched what is mine.