“Take me with you.”
“What? Take you with me? You’re suing the NYPD and the FBI.”
His hands come down on my arms. “The department has a hard-on for me. They believe I’m a kingpin. He’ll obsess over me and focus less on you.”
“No. Absolutely not. I don’t need Kane Mendez to hold my fucking hand. Seriously, Kane? Do you think I’m a toddler?”
“You’re human, Lilah. You fear that man.”
“I fear me. Just me. I don’t need to share that with anyone but you. And I can do that, because you’re just as scared of you as I am of me.”
“But I don’t fear him.” He releases me. “But maybe that’s the lesson here. I don’t fear him. I embrace who I am. Embrace who you are, Lilah. That’s why you’re good at what you do. Because you see the evil out there. You understand it.”
“Because I’m evil?”
“Because you’re you. Look him in the eye and see that as the fucking advantage it is. You could ruin him if you wanted to. He can’t ruin you.”
“You hate him,” I remind him. “That affects your opinions. You hated him from the moment you met him.”
“He doesn’t sit well in my gut. I use caution with those people.”
“And yet you want me to go sit across from him?”
“Get past it,” he pushes. “You’re giving away your power and that’s not like you.”
I inhale and let it out. “You’re right. God, I hate when you’re fucking right.” I grab my phone to call Roger back.
“I’ll go pour the coffee I put on the timer,” Kane says, walking toward the bedroom door.
My phone rings in my hand with an unknown number, and I answer, “Agent Love.”
“Agent Love,” an all-business female voice greets, “this is Melanie Carmichael. I’m the new medical examiner dealing with a number of murders that you’re investigating. I think we should meet.”
“Agreed. When?”
“When can you stop by?”
“I’ll be there before lunch.”
“That works.”
We say our goodbyes, and I dial Roger. “Lilah?”
“I moved my meeting. I have a small window, depending on when and where we go. I need to stop by the medical examiner’s office. Pick someplace in between there and the station.”
“I’ll come to you. How about Misty’s Diner in forty-five minutes? That’s right near your travels.”
And it’s his favorite place. Whatever, I guess. “That works.” I say, hanging up to find Kane walking back into the bedroom with two cups of coffee in his hand.
He hands me a cup. “Got your meeting?”
“Thank you,” I say, lifting my cup because I have manners despite often being told otherwise. “And yes. In forty-five minutes.”
“Don’t forget we have your father’s fundraiser tonight.”
My eyes go wide. “We declined.”
“We didn’t decline. We’re going.”
“Kane, you’re suing the entire fucking legal system.”
“Seems like an appropriate time to say hello, don’t you think?”
“We’re not going for you to say fuck you to law enforcement. I am law enforcement.”
“And Murphy knows you’re with me, Lilah. Own who you are. We were engaged. They all know us as a couple.”
Were engaged. Why does that “were” punch me in the fucking gut so badly? “Kane—”
“The Society needs to see us together, and they need to see you behaving and supporting your father because we need them to back the fuck off. We destroy our powerful enemies by making them let their guard down.”
“I don’t even have a dress here or time to buy one.”
He sets his cup down and then takes mine and does the same. “Come with me,” he says, catching my hand in his, leading me through a wet dream of a bathroom, that I really fucking adore, to the giant closet, that I love just as much. My gaze goes left to my old side of the closet, and I suck in a breath; all of my clothes are still here.
I turn to Kane. “You didn’t get rid of them?”
“No, Lilah. I didn’t get rid of them.”
“That must have been a bitch to explain to other women.”
“We picked this place together. I didn’t bring other women here. And there’s a substantial amount of new items in the bags on the floor and hanging with tags. I had that personal shopper you like bring it all yesterday, including all your favorite toiletries.”
I don’t bring up the money. He’s rich. I am too because of my mother’s trust. It’s not about the money to him or me. We’ve never had to have that between us. “You just assumed you’d get me back here.”
“You belong here. You know it. I know it. Why are we going to pretend otherwise? That apartment you moved into was wasted money.”
“Kane, my job. I can’t just—”
He pulls me to him hard and fast. “Murphy knows,” he bites out. “Fuck the rest of them. I told you. You’re staying.”
“That’s my decision, not yours. You can’t command me, Kane.”
His lips press together. “You’re right.” His voice is as tight as his expression. “Make your own fucking decision, Lilah. I’ll shower at the office.” He releases me and walks out of the closet.
“Fuck.”
I turn and look at the clothes, and there’s a pink dress with tags on it turned this direction. It’s obviously a dress Kane wanted me to notice. I walk over to it and catch the silk in my hands. He’s the only person who sees the part of me that is softer, that is pink and like my mother. And yet, he’s the only person who sees that dark horrible part of me as well. That matters. Fuck. It matters. I turn and run out of the closet, darting through the bathroom. “Kane?! Kane?!”
He doesn’t answer, but when I step into the bedroom, he’s sitting on the bed. “I fucking love you,” I blurt. “Is that what you want to hear?”
He stands up. “And what else, Lilah?”
“We’ll go to the party.”
“And?”
“And you’re such a demanding bastard. I’m not leaving. Is that what you want to hear? But don’t read into that. I love this apartment and bathroom and—”
He’s now in front of me, cupping my head. “You’re not leaving. Yes. That’s what I want to hear. You can stop there.”
“You’re still an asshole.”
“I know.” He kisses me. That’s what assholes do. They kiss you, and you forget why their asshole-ness matters. But I’ll remember. He knows I’ll remember.
CHAPTER THIRTY
I’m late for coffee, which only proves Kane is an asshole. He wouldn’t let me out of the fucking shower. I didn’t even get to admire all the tile work I had picked out because he was all over me the entire time. Fuck. My hair is still damp, so now it’s going to be a frizzy mess all day, which, you know, I guess works if it somehow makes me less approachable.
After a short walk from the apartment, I step to a corner and stare at the Misty’s Diner sign. My cellphone rings with Kane’s number. “Just do it,” he says when I answer.
“Are you watching me? Seriously, Kane? I can’t live with a stalker.”
“Lilah, I’m not watching you. I just know you.”
“You don’t know me as well as you think.” I hang up. I hate being predictable and readable. I hate being a little fucking wuss who sucks her thumb in the corner because Old Man Smokey is here, and he might hurt my feelings by seeing that I’m an evil bitch. I cross the road, and I don’t stop this time. I enter the semi-full diner and scan for Roger. He’s not here, damn it. Now I have to sit in a booth and suck my wuss ass thumb and wait on him.
The hostess motions for me to claim a seat. I grab a spot to the right of the door by a window. My back is to that window, but I can see the door and the diner. As long as I don’t get shot in the back, all is peachy. Well, except for the fact that my old mentor is about to look in my eye
s and most likely see a killer. And cough on me. God, I hate those coughs. It’s really rather odd to me how a man that anal has such a dirty habit. It doesn’t compute.
Ten minutes pass, and I finally get some damn coffee, and it doesn’t even have pumpkin in it. Mother of God, thank fuck for that. Roger hasn’t shown up, so I try to call him. The connection goes straight to voicemail. My cellphone rings, and I glance down to where it rests on the table to find Tic Tac calling. “Yes, Master Tic Tac. Or are you the submissive and Mike’s the master?”
“We’re gay, Lilah, not kinky.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. You know you can still change that. If you just—”
“Stop,” he bites out. “Stop talking.”
“Fine. I was just trying to help you spice things up.”
“I have an idea. A work idea.”
“Is it a good one?” I ask.
“It’s going to be one of those days with you, isn’t it?”
I sip my coffee. “Looks like it.”
“I’m going to take every person who has even the slightest connection to any of this, even the Texas suicides, and link cell towers, job histories, and even places they visit. It’s going to take time, but I talked to Murphy, and he’s getting me a team to help.”
“How long will this take with the team?”
“We’ll break it down in chunks and extract information as we go. It’s all a matter of homing in on what key information, and finding what matters in the middle of all the junk.”
“Do we have anything that matters right now? It sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it.”
“Agreed, which is why I’m doing this. And by the way, I’m now on your task force, extra motivated to put up with your crap by way of a big raise.”
“Oh, Fuck. I asked him to get someone else.”
He grunts. “Seriously, Lilah? Can you not just keep things to yourself?”
“I’m joking. Welcome to Team Love, otherwise known as Team Torture.”
“It’s hard to tell when you’re joking, Lilah.”
“It’s my smooth operator, undercover skills. Have someone on that new team of yours get me a list of hard-to-identify toxins, pronto.”
“Yes, Agent Love,” he says, all monotone and robot-like.
“You should be the submissive.”
He hangs up. I laugh and dial Jay. “Anything?”
“Lily went to work, stopped at Starbucks on the way there, and seems like a fairly normal person, but who am I to judge? I know people like you and Kane.”
“You’re just so fucking funny. What else?”
“We went into her apartment and it’s normal, too.”
“Was her bed made?”
“What?” he asks, and my gaze lifts as a familiar Hispanic woman in a waitress uniform appears behind the counter. Her eyes meet mine and recognition comes to both of us. She’s the guard from the morgue. I disconnect my call and stand up to approach her. She turns and starts running, turning into the kitchen. I try to lift the counter door, but it’s stuck. I go over the fucking thing and take a few plates and glasses with me, but fuck it. People scream. I carry on. I pull my gun and enter the kitchen to find two people in aprons looking terrified. “Where’d she go?”
They point to the back of the building, and I rush that way and down a hallway that exits to an alleyway. She’s not there. Gone. Vanished. But in the center of the walkway is something that looks to be pink. I frown and walk in that direction. I squat down and stare at the gift that was left for me. It’s a rubber pig. I understand the message that I don’t believe most would. It means that I’m proving as inconsequential as the pig. I’m not performing to standard. He might as well gut me and bleed me dry. Sirens sound in the background, and I sigh. Fuck. Now I have to deal with this bullshit. I bag the pig and shove it in the field bag that’s always at my hip.
The manager of the diner meets me at the door. A police cruiser pulls up, and the officers rush in our direction. I flash my badge. “Agent Love. Part of an ongoing investigation. Stand down.” I look at the manager. “Who was the woman I just chased?”
“Maria Mendez.”
At Kane’s surname, he has my attention; though, it is a common name. “I need her contact information and quickly.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I turn to the officers. “Tall, Hispanic female about one-fifty. Search the perimeter.”
They nod and take off. I meet the manager at the back door, and he hands me a piece of paper with the address on it. “She doesn’t have a phone.”
“How long has she worked here?”
“Six months. She’s a good employee. She has little kids.”
“Okay.” I use my manners again. I’m on a roll. “Thanks. Sorry for the mess.” I reach in my bag and hand him a few hundred dollars I keep for just such an occasion. “That’s for the coffee.”
His eyes go wide. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
I start walking. I know this city from my time with the NYPD. The address is only a few blocks away. I dial Kane. “How bad was it?”
“Do you know a woman named Maria Mendez, thirtyish, one hundred and fifty pounds, really good at making a bitch scowl?”
“That doesn’t ring a bell but we Mexicans love a surname a million deep. Why?”
“I’ll tell you later. I need to deal with this.”
“Roger?”
“No show.”
“That’s odd.”
“Yeah. It is, isn’t it? I need to go.” I hang up and scan the streets. I make the walk to Maria’s in five minutes, and I follow a tenant into the buzzer-driven door. I’m about to head up the stairs when Maria steps out from under the stairwell.
“I needed the money. I have kids. One of them is sick. He needs special breathing treatments, and I was desperate.” She starts to cry. “I got scared when I saw you, but I can’t run. I don’t want to run. My kids need me, though. They need me.” She sobs.
Fuck. I hate tears. “Tell me everything,” I say, a phrase that usually makes people think I know anyway. It works.
“He wanted me to pretend to be a guard and sneak in and take photos of a few medical reports.”
“He who?”
“Some reporter.” She hugs herself. “I don’t know what website. It was a website.”
“How did you meet him?”
“He came into the diner and heard me talking about my kid to a regular customer.”
“What did he look like?”
“He was early thirties, black, new fancy suit. He didn’t know, but he still had a tag on it. Didn’t give me a name.”
That wasn’t Umbrella Man. It was probably some guy he pulled off the street. This is all a setup. I was supposed to find her. I was supposed to find the pig. And if I walk away and leave this woman, he’ll kill her to torment me. It’s all a game. He’s making me chase my tail. “I don’t want you to stay here. I want you to go out of town. I’m sending someone to pick you up. I’ll pay for everything.”
“What about my job?”
“Is there someplace you want to live other than here?”
“Well, Colorado. I heard it’s cheap to live there.”
“Colorado it is. I’ll give you enough money to start over.”
“Really?”
“Really. Go pack. I’ll arrange it all.”
She throws her arms around me and hugs me. Tears and a hug, shoot me now. When I’m released, she takes off, and I step outside and call Jay. “No, she did not make her bed, and why is that important?”
“Habits define character, but right now, I have a situation.” I make the arrangements for Maria Mendez. I don’t think that last name is an accident. It’s a message I was meant to receive when I found Maria. She is nothing in the big picture. He’s telling me that Kane is nothing. He’s telling me that Kane can’t protect me, like I need Kane’s fucking protection.
That said, I still haven’t heard from Roger, an
d I’m now worried. Was Maria a distraction and Roger the target? I dial him again, and the line rings, and Roger picks up. “Sorry, Lilah. My damn subway stalled. It was hell down there. Are we still having coffee? I’m a few blocks away.”
We are most definitely not having coffee. “I’ll find you later.”
“I’ll meet you at the medical examiner’s office.”
Of course he will, because I just can’t escape this man or apparently the Umbrella Man. “Fine.” I disconnect, but I don’t start walking. Something niggles at me and then begins to claw. There is something right in front of my face that I’m missing. Something about this morning and these events. And what I miss, with this asshole, could cost a life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
While walking to the medical examiner’s office, I dial Tic Tac. “I need that list of toxins.”
“I emailed it and included signs to look for that might indicate exposure.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I’m about to hang up but he isn’t done talking.
“Wait,” he says. “You said thanks?”
I don’t reply. I hang up and dial Kane. “Talk to me, beautiful.”
“That Maria Mendez situation. It was a message to me about you. I’ll spare you the details as to why I say that. He really might come at you, Kane.”
“We had this conversation. Let’s hope he does.”
“Stop being an arrogant asshole who thinks he’s invincible. A rival gang might not get to you, but this man, he’s different. He’s smart. He’s sneaky. He’s not what you expect. Take precautions. I’m not playing with you on this Kane. He likes toxins. That’s hard to defend.”
“He’s rattling you.”
“I don’t like when these things get personal. You’re personal.”
“Where are you right now?”
“A block from the medical examiner’s office. I’m meeting the new medical examiner on this case, and Roger is meeting me there.”
“Which explains your current state of mind. I’ll meet you there and take you to lunch.”
“No. I need to go to the station when this is done. I’ll grab something on my way. Just—be careful.”
“Lilah—”
I disconnect before he tries to coddle me and then I have to hurt him when I see him again. As it is, he’s putting me in a pink dress and making me see my father and Pocher tonight. I like the dress but not the bullshit political event that I have to attend wearing it. I bring the medical facility into view, and in a near afterthought, pause, pulling up the email from Roger about his case. I step to a wall next to a restaurant and quickly scan the details, finding it uneventful as it relates to my cases. Right now, I’m going to focus on this case, not tonight and not on Roger.
Love Me Dead Page 14
