Time to play her part.
By the time Victoria walked into the precinct, the rhythm of the day had already begun—phones ringing, keyboards clattering, the steady hum of organized chaos that she usually found grounding. Today, though, every sound grated.
She could feel eyes on her as she crossed the bullpen. It was subtle, but it was there—the sideways glances, the slight pause in conversation. Word had gotten around that she and Torres had argued again. Perfect. Exactly as they wanted.
Victoria kept her expression cool, unreadable, her stride clipped and efficient. She barked a quick order to a patrol sergeant about the task force briefing and barely slowed down as she passed Darcy near the evidence board.
“Morning, Captain,” Darcy greeted, bright and casual as ever.
“Lieutenant,” Victoria said curtly without looking up.
She felt Darcy’s smirk follow her as she disappeared into her office. The door clicked shut behind her, sealing out most of the noise.
Victoria exhaled slowly and leaned against the desk for a moment, letting the mask slip just long enough to breathe. Then she straightened and got to work.
She powered on her computer and slid her secure phone from her bag, typing out a coded message to the commissioner. The subject line was innocuous enough—Follow-up on the Harper case—but the body contained the start of their plan. Coordinates for the north docks, set for the following night. Phrased as a “potential lead” they wanted kept confidential.
Once sent, she wiped the temporary log. No trace.
Next, she opened the case database and adjusted the access permissions for a handful of files—the ones she knew Darcy had been monitoring. She created a new entry labeledPotentialExchange Siteand uploaded a decoy report written in precise, believable language. If Darcy checked it, the breadcrumbs would lead straight to the sting location.
Victoria’s pulse stayed even as she worked, but her mind was razor focused. Every keystroke, every decision had to be perfect. One misstep and Darcy would know the trap was set.
A soft knock came at the door.
Victoria’s spine straightened instantly. “Come in.”
Darcy stepped inside, a coffee cup in each hand. “Thought you might want one,” she said easily, setting it down on the corner of the desk. “You look like you could use it.”
“Thank you,” Victoria said evenly, though she didn’t touch the cup.
Darcy smiled, that same professional charm that now looked like poison. “Any updates on Torres?”
Victoria met her gaze squarely. “She’s still under internal review. I’m waiting to see if her behavior stabilizes before bringing her back in full.”
“Good call,” Darcy said, nodding with approval that made Victoria’s stomach turn. “You can’t be too careful these days.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Victoria said, her voice cool and deliberate.
Darcy gave her a small nod, turned, and left.
The moment the door closed, Victoria let out a long, steady breath. The pieces were in motion now. Darcy had seen the fake report. She would take the bait.
Victoria sat back in her chair and glanced at the clock. Isabel should be walking in any minute now, playing her part—distant and defiant, perfectly convincing.
For the first time since this began, Victoria allowed herself a flicker of hope.
The precinct had gone still for the night. Most of the desks sat empty, the overhead lights dimmed to half power. Only the faint hum of the vending machine and the distant murmur of dispatch filled the silence.
Victoria glanced at the clock on her office wall—10:47 p.m. Right on time.
Through the glass, she could see Isabel still at her desk on the far side of the bullpen, pretending to type a report. Their eyes met for a fleeting second. Then Victoria gave the smallest nod—barely perceptible to anyone watching.
Isabel’s expression didn’t change, but her fingers slowed over the keyboard before she turned her gaze back to the screen. Message received.
Victoria closed her laptop, stacked a few files under her arm, and flicked off her office light. The motion was practiced—unremarkable. She stepped out into the bullpen, her tone brisk as she called to the night sergeant, “I’ll be finishing the Harper notes from home. Call if anything breaks.”
“Got it, Captain.”
