Goddess of Justice Dwayne Clayden (i read book .TXT) 📖

world. Either way, the pain is real and devastating. The road to recovery or acceptance is long, and each person travels that path at their own pace. Some believe in the Kübler-Ross Grief Cycle. The theory is that we go through five stages of grief—denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. I’m not sure I believe it is as simple as that, but it’s as good of a model as any. Are you with me so far?”

Brad nodded. What Branton said made sense. It surprised Brad he was so far down the path, if he was. When he first woke in the hospital and was told Maggie didn’t make it, he’d been in denial. Forging documents so he could come back to work appeared to be bargaining. On his first full shift he lost it on the asshat who beat his girlfriend. He was angry. When he was suspended just when the sniper case had some leads, he hit depression. If he wasn’t depressed, then what was left?

“I reached bargaining before anger,” Brad said.

Branton shrugged. “It’s a model. Each person will work their way through the stages in their own order, in their own time. From what you’ve told me, you are well down the path, past denial, anger, bargaining and depression. Where does that leave you? Acceptance.”

Brad felt his gut clench. His mouth went dry, and he held his breath. Acceptance? Could he accept Maggie’s death? It didn’t feel right that acceptance was the last step.

Branton read his mind. “Have you realized that acceptance may not be the last step?”

Brad’s head jerked up. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

“I have a theory on that.” Branton shrugged, and his blue eyes sparkled. “Just a theory, or as some call it, my opinion. Some people will tell you that you must move on. I don’t accept that. Moving on seems to mean leaving everything in the past, buried, never to be remembered. I believe you need to move forward. You don’t forget the past, you honor the memories you want to, you don’t let the awful memories weigh you down, and you forge a fresh path. Perhaps the road less traveled. I’m rambling and giving a sermon. I apologize.”

“No need to apologize. It makes total sense. More sense than three months of counseling. I should have come to you first.”

“You came here when the time was right.”

Brad smiled. “Interesting, the circumstances that led me here.”

“Can I be forgiven for saying, ‘God works in mysterious ways’?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. I’ll accept the mysterious ways theory.”

Branton stood, grabbed Brad’s mug and headed to the kitchen. Moments later he was back with two tumblers. “I hope you like whiskey.”

“I’m acquiring a taste.”

They sipped in silence. For the moment, the weight he’d been carrying was lifted off his shoulders.

Finally, Branton said, “I am a man of God, but I read the newspapers and watch the news. You’re in a lot of trouble.”

Brad talked about his current situation, being wanted for multiple murders by his own police service.

Branton leta quiet moment pass, then leaned forward in his chair. “Did you commit the murders?”

Brad gasped. “Of course not.”

“Then you have nothing to fear.” Branton’s tone was light, welcoming, accepting.

Brad drank the last of the whiskey. “I need to go.” He set the glass down and stood.

Branton waved him back to the chair. “Sit. I’ll refill your whiskey. You shouldn’t drive.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

Annie sat in Brad’s overstuffed chair with Lobo at her feet. She absently chewed on a sandwich and stared unseeing at the TV. When the eleven o’clock news came on, she jumped out of the chair and increased the volume. Lobo rolled onto his back and groaned.

“Good evening, and welcome to the CFCN News. We have a report from Sadie Andrus who, last night, reported that police had launched a manhunt for Detective Brad Coulter. Sadie, do you have an update for us?”

“Thanks, Todd. As you mentioned, last night we received word that Detective Coulter was a suspect in the recent murders. Police have been tight-lipped.”

The last portion of the video where Sadie and the cameraman are knocked to the ground played with Sadie’s voiceover.

“As you can see, the police did not want us anywhere near the scene. The local media have requested a press conference, but so far, the police have declined. However, I have information from an excellent source that Coulter may not be guilty of the murders. In fact, the source suggests Coulter has been framed. Knowing his department does not support him, he is working alone to clear his name.”

“That is a bizarre twist to a bizarre story,” the news anchor, Todd, said. “Sadie, did your informant give any reason Coulter would be framed for these murders?”

“Good question, Todd. I wasn’t given that information.”

“Incredible story. Thank you, Sadie.”

Annie stared dumbfounded at the screen. Sadie had put her career on the line. Now all Brad had to do was clear his name, and his and Sadie’s careers would be saved. If not, one would go to jail and the other to unemployment.

The apartment was in darkness when Sadie entered. She tossed her keys in the bowl, switched on the lights and checked the rooms. There was no sign of Brad. She knew he’d been upset or pissed off or some other irrational male emotion. She returned to the closet and hung up her red jacket and tossed her wool cap on the shelf. She leaned against the wall and untied her boots and tossed them toward the closet.

She’d had difficulty keeping her mind on the news today. All the coverage about Brad and the murders took center stage, and her bosses were smart enough to know she had inside information. Not that she’d shared it, but they’d made her do features all day on the murders and Brad’s career as a cop. At least she could temper some information. The other stations were less sympathetic. Wolves circling the wounded animal.

Then her boss thought it would be a marvelous idea for Sadie