by Jami Alden
Megan’s stomach clutched at the logo embossed in the corner.
Club One.
You have no idea what you’re sticking your nose into.
The bedroom door flew open, slamming into the wall with a crash. Her heart leaped to her throat as she whirled around; then her stomach bottomed out when she saw the uniformed officer in the doorway, her standard-issue Glock trained on Megan. “Drop to your knees. Hands in the air.”
Megan obeyed, wincing as the officer wrenched her arms behind her and snapped the cuffs around her wrists, the sharp metallic click echoing through the silent room.
Cole slipped his cell phone out of his pocket, grimacing when he saw Tasso’s number on the caller ID. The SAC was calling for an update.
“You got anything yet?”
“We narrowed down the neighborhood where Bianca has been seen around, and we’re still trying to find anyone who knows where she might have lived.”
At Cole’s voice, Petersen looked up from where she was talking, or rather trying to talk, to a working girl who was shaking her head and trying to pull the no hablo inglés on her.
Cole rolled his eyes and mouthed “Tasso” at her.
The truth was, they’d been canvassing downtown, questioning the usual crew for hours now and had fuck all to show for it. If Bianca had ever set foot in this part of town, no one was willing to open up to the cops about it. The gangs who ran in this part of town hadn’t been shy about letting people know what happened when you snitched. Recently a local store owner had been found stabbed to death with his tongue cut out. It made a population already disinclined to trust the cops even more tight-lipped.
Trying to reassure folks that the guy they were after had nothing to do with the gangs didn’t help. A cop was a cop and a rat was a rat as far ashey were concerned.
“So you haven’t found any new information about her?”
Cole didn’t like the edge creeping into Tasso’s tone. “Nothing substantive,” Cole said, his grip tightening around the phone. “Is there anything else you needed, sir?” If Tasso was going to chew his ass out over something, Cole wanted to get it over with. If not, Cole needed to get back to work.
“No, but I thought you might be interested to know Megan Flynn was arrested for breaking and entering.”
Cole shook his head, sure he hadn’t heard right. “She what?”
“And that’s not the best part. She claims she was there because some kid from a noodle house told her that’s where Bianca and her roommate lived.”
Cole felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. Fuck. He’d passed on the information to Megan, convinced there was nothing she could do with it. When was he going to learn to stop underestimating her and the power of pure desperation?
“What is it with this chick?” Petersen said as they pulled into the parking lot. “You’re a good cop, Cole. You follow procedure and you don’t fuck up. And you sure as hell don’t leak confidential information to civilians not involved in the case.”
Cole shook his head. “Drop it, Olivia.” The truth was he didn’t have an answer for why Megan Flynn made him so fucking stupid and reckless.
“For you of all people to think with your dick—”
“It wasn’t like that. I wanted to help her.”
“Yeah, well, you helped yourself into getting thrown off an investigation that could make you a sergeant. Hell, Lieutenant Chin could fire you for this.”
The truth was like a fist knotting in his gut. Petersen was right. And Chin didn’t even know about him showing Megan the information on the other victims. He was trying to be a good guy, help Megan get some closure. Instead he was at serious risk of losing the career that had defined his entire adult life.
Talk about a warning sign to stay the hell away from her.
Yet the first thing Cole did when he got to the station was ask the desk sergeant where he could find Megan Flynn.
“Are you kidding?” Petersen gaped. “Tasso and Lieutenant Chin are waiting for you.”
He knew what she was thinking—that the Detective Cole Williams she knew would never consider leaving his superiors waiting. Hell, that Detective Williams would never do something so stupid, so reckless, as to deserve the kind of ass reaming he had coming.
But he’d dug himself in this far, and he needed to talk to Megan face-to-face, find out what the fuck she thought she was going to accomplish that the police couldn’t. /font>
No surprise, rather than being booked and tossed in a cell with the other petty thieves, Megan had been taken upstairs for questioning by Tasso and Chin. They would want to know why she was at Bianca’s house, what she was looking for.
What else she knew.
Fuck. Cole was a master of interrogation, and he knew all the tricks and tactics they would use. Even if she was inclined to protect him, Megan would be helpless if they really turned the screws.
But deep down, did he really want her to lie for him? He’d dug his own grave, fucked himself over. He couldn’t really blame her.
He found her, mercifully alone, in an interrogation room. Under other circumstances, he might have admired her ability to nose out Bianca’s address before he had. Right now, all he felt was angry, not just at the prospect of losing his career, but also at her for going by herself to a sketchy neighborhood. He knew Megan thought of herself as tough and street smart, but just the idea of her walking around there alone was enough to make him want to keep her locked up for her own safety.
Cole turned off the monitors and cameras and ducked inside the room.
Some of his anger dissipated when he saw her, small and fragile, sitting at that table. Her shoulders were hunched, her dark hair spilling forward to hide her face. They’d removed the cuffs, but she was rubbing her wrists like they still hurt.
The urge to hug her was as strong as the urge to shake her.
He closed the door quietly behind him.
Megan’s head snapped up, her face melting into a mask of guilt the second she recognized him. “I’m so sorry, Cole—”
He held his hand up. “Save it. This whole thing is my own fucking fault for being so stupid. I should know by now that being around you only causes me trouble.”
She winced at that, but Cole was so pissed, mostly at himself, he couldn’t muster any sympathy. “What I want to know is what the hell you think you were doing, going by yourself to that part of town, breaking into someone’s house.”
Megan licked her lips and stared at the table. “Two years ago, Devany ran away and ended up at Mission St. Jude. Bianca was a volunteer there. Devany didn’t realize it was her right away, but she remembered the mark on her shoulder.”
“And instead of calling me immediately, you decided to interfere with the investigation and go nosing around yourself.”
“I was going to tell you, I swear! I just wanted to take a look myself, because I might see something you guys won’t.”
“You used confidential information to go off half-cocked and then neglected to relay information that could help us learn more about the victim.”
“I didn’t conceal it,” Megan said. “I just didn’t tell you right away. I knew you wouldn’t tell me if you discovered anything in her house, so I wanted to get there before you—”
“Don’t rub it in. Even if I do keep my badge, no one’s ever going to let me live that down. I leak information to a fucking court advocate, for Christ’s sake, and she tracks down the victim’s address before I can.”
“I was going to tell you about Devany and anything else I found out.”
“You should have left it up to the police—”
“Right, because you’re so willing to entertain the idea that these cases are connected to Sean’s? After today, why would I trust you to do that?”
Just like that, Cole was back in her apartment, Megan stripped almost bare beneath him. His hands running over her silky skin, the salty-sweet taste of her in his mouth. He felt himself thicken as blood rushed south. “After what happe
ned today, wouldn’t you think I’d be more inclined to help you out?”
Hot color flooded her cheeks, and her green eyes skittered away from his. “I was talking about what you said. About the knife wounds. I wasn’t talking about what you did.”
“We were both on that couch, Megan.” He took a step closer and heard her breath catch. He leaned over the table, so close he could smell her hair. “I did what you asked and showed you the files. You saw for yourself there was nothing in there to prove your theory.” He shook his head in exasperation. “Or you should have. But instead you had to break into the victim’s house. I’ll be lucky to get off with just a suspension.”
Her mouth pulled down at the corners, shame mingling with guilt. “I’m sorry, Cole. I had no idea anything like this would happen.” She ran her eyes around the interrogation room. “Obviously.”
“It’s my own goddamn fault. I know better.” He rubbed his eyes. “Do you have an attorney you can call?”
She nodded. “I called a friend, and a lawyer should be here soon. And I really was going to tell you if I found out anything. Like you should know—”
Before Megan could get the words out, the conference door opened again. Lieutenant Chin’s face tightened with anger. “What the hell are you doing in here, Williams? I told you to come to my office as soon as you got back.”
Cole had always had a solid relationship with his lieutenant, but now he fought the urge to pop him in the face as payback for chastising him like a child. “I was just on my way.”
Another man followed, and it didn’t take years as a detective to recognize that the navy pinstriped suit and expensively trimmed graying hair spelled lawyer. “Ms. Flynn, I’m Michael Levin. Mr. Brewster called me on your behalf.”
Megan nodded and murmured her thanks.
Brewster? The tool from the coffee place?
“I’ll see you in my office, Detective,” I wasnapped, and closed the interrogation room door in his face.
Sure enough, as Cole crossed the bull pen on the way to Lieutenant Chin’s office, he spotted Nate Brewster in his Ken-doll, all-American glory, cooling his heels in the waiting area. The knife twisted in Cole’s gut. He shouldn’t care—should be relieved, even—that Megan’s moneyed, wannabe boyfriend had come to her rescue.
Yet the very idea of Megan counting on any man but Cole for help stuck in his throat like a giant uncoated aspirin.
Unfortunately, Nate spotted him too. “Detective,” Nate called, standing and waving a big hand to get his attention. “Nate Brewster, we met the other day.”
As though Cole could forget the man he’d caught drooling over Megan. Once again the man was dressed like he was fresh from the country club, a heavy platinum watch gleaming on his thick wrist.
“I remember,” Cole said, accepting the handshake. He imagined a lot of people found Nate’s smile charming. Cole was hard-pressed not to shove his fist into it. “Nice watch,” Cole said, gesturing to the piece that probably cost enough to feed a third world nation for a month.
“Thanks.” Nate’s smile was a flash of blinding white. “I got it as a present for myself last year when my business grew three hundred percent.”
“Really? What business is that?”
“Computers—nerd stuff,” Nate said in a way that told Cole he didn’t expect a meathead cop to be able to grasp it. “Have you seen Megan? How is she?” The smile was gone, replaced by a look of deep concern.
“She’s okay. The lawyer’s in there with her now.”
“We got here as soon as we could. I couldn’t believe it when she called me for help. Breaking and entering? What was she thinking?”
“She wasn’t,” Cole said flatly. “There’s a lot of that going around today. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Nate nodded and said good-bye with a quick wave, and then sat back, his too-handsome face pulled into a mask of concern. Wealthy Prince Charming ready to use his money to dig his damsel in distress out of her hole.
Cole went to Chin’s office, sank into a leather armchair, and waited to find out if he still had a badge.
Chapter 10
By the time Nate led her from the station and tucked her into the passenger seat of his BMW, it was after ten. It had taken several hours to work everything out, but Lieutenant Chin finally conceded that it was better not to press charges than tell the public that their detective had leaked key information in a high-profile investigation.
In exchange, Megan told them everything she’d discovered about Bianca—her work as a prostitute, the restaurant she’d frequented, her donation to the mission, and the probability thhat was he had a roommate named Stephanie who’d left very little evidence of her existence at the shared house.
The only pieces of information she held back were the napkin she found from Club One and the picture from the Web site. It wasn’t a big deal, she told herself, since the police were likely to find it themselves when they searched the house. Megan wanted to look at the Web site, and more importantly, she wanted to get to Club One before the cops. She was afraid the staff and patrons would likely clam up once the police started nosing around.
She flipped on her cell phone and saw Devany’s number come up in the missed calls list. She’d called three times in the last fifteen minutes.
Dev answered on the first ring. “Where have you been?” Dev’s harsh whisper was all teenage indignation.
Megan forced back a snappy retort. “I had my phone off. Do you need me for something?”
“I need a ride,” Dev said, again in a whisper.
“It’s almost eleven on a school night.”
Megan could hear muffled music and voices in the background.
“Don’t give me a hard time, okay? You always said you’d come get me if I needed you to, and tonight I really need you to.”
“Where are you?”
Megan winced when Devany gave her the address, not too far from Mission St. Jude. Not a place for a fourteen-year-old girl alone at night. “Hang on.” She covered the mouthpiece and turned to Nate. “I hate to ask you this, but I need another huge favor.”
Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of a low-rise apartment building. A small crowd milled out front, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. Megan spotted about half a dozen girls around Dev’s age, along with a bunch of guys who looked several years older. She dialed Dev’s number, squirming in her seat as a few of the guys approached Nate’s car. She wondered if, on top of everything, they were going to get carjacked. The guys stayed back but kept a wary eye on their car. “We’re here.”
Dev appeared at the front of the complex in seconds. Megan waved her over. Nate clicked the lock and Dev dove into the backseat in a cloud of Everclear punch and pot smoke.
“Can we go, please? I want to get out of here before Davos realizes I left.”
“And you’re welcome for the ride,” Megan snapped. “Dev, this is Nate. The man nice enough to come to this lovely part of town to pick you up. Maybe you could at least say hi.”
“Hi, and thank you for the ride,” Dev said, her kohl-rimmed eyes rolling, red mouth sullen. She slumped back in the seat.
After several blocks, it became clear she wasn’t about to offer any explanation.
“So, you want to tell me what the hell you were doing there?”
“My friend’s boyfriend knew about this party, so I decided to go.”
“I thought you were still grounded.”
“Aunt Kathy had to go back to work tonight, and I started freaking out by myself, okay?”
“You should have called someone—”
“I did call someone. I called you, and you weren’t around.”
Because she was too busy breaking and entering, Megan thought with a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry about that. I got hung up.”
“I can see why.” In a flash, Dev went from brat to flirt. “He’s cute. Cuter than that cop.”
Megan rolled her eyes but didn’t contradict her. “So what happened at the part
y?”
“It just got a little weird, and my friend didn’t want to leave.”
“Who’s Davos?” Nate asked.
“A guy at the party, not that it’s your business.”
“I’m your ride. I think that makes it my business.”
Megan could hear the thread of irritation in Nate’s voice.
“Sorry,” Dev mumbled. “He’s this guy I’ve seen around. Usually he’s okay, but tonight he was on Molly—a bunch of people were.”
Megan’s stomach clenched. “Please tell me you didn’t take any.” Molly was Ecstasy cut with coke, or occasionally heroin.
“I’m not an idiot. But Davos was getting all amped up and grabby—everyone was—and I kind of freaked out and hid in the closet.”
“I’m glad you called,” Megan said, meaning it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around earlier.”
“Me too.”
They were silent as Nate pulled the car into the trailer park entrance. Megan directed him to Dev’s dark trailer. Nate parked, got out, and opened Megan’s and Dev’s doors. “It doesn’t look like your aunt is home. Do you want us to stay with you?”
Exhausted as she was, Megan was touched by Nate’s consideration.
Dev shook her head. “Kathy will be home soon. I’m just going to crash.”
They followed Dev up the short steps and waited as she turned on all the lights in the trailer. Megan told her good night, but Dev stopped her as she turned to go. “I almost forgot to tell you—my mom called today. She’s getting out early.” Dev tried to say it casually, but Megan knew she had to be freaking out. That news, as much of being scared, had sent Dev out into the city to blow off some steam.
“I’ll set up a meeting with Rhonda tomorrow, okay?” Megan knew Dev’s case worker would recommend Dev stay with Kathy. Megan hoped that was enough to convince the judge this time.
“Thanks,” Dev said, and flashed them both a shy smile, “for everything.”
