Breaking Bad

by Karin Tabke

  “I’d like you to choose to give me back my keys and step aside so that I can drive my car to the surveillance room so that I can get back to work on my case.”

  Stevie held out her open hand palm up. Jack shook his head, but placed the keys in her hand. When she moved to grab them away his big hand clasped around hers, sending wild shards of desire through her. She gasped when she realized he felt it too.

  “Because it means more to you to be in control here than it does to me, I’m choosing to give you the keys.” His hand tightened around hers as he pulled her toward him so that their warm breaths mingled. “But never misinterpret this gesture of good will as anything more than what it is. I’m in control, Cavanaugh. You will do as I say. Got it?”

  Stevie swallowed hard and nodded.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As she pulled into the underground parking spot two blocks from where Spoltori lived, Stevie threw the Crown Vic into park and exited the vehicle.

  Jack was out of the car and in front of her so fast she blinked. “Ignoring me won’t solve this case, Detective.”

  “Yeah, but it will solve me not having to converse with you,” she shot back, as she marched past him.

  She hit the car’s remote door lock and headed for the stairway to the lobby floor.

  A moment later, her cellphone wolf-whistled that she had a text. Most likely Oliveras. About damn time.

  She didn’t recognize the number, but the text left no mystery as to the identity of the person who sent the message.

  Looks like now we have each other’s number, Detective.

  Stevie smirked. Continuing toward the building, she quickly texted back, I deleted your number a long time ago, Special Agent Thornton. Don’t text me again unless it has to do with MY case.

  She heard Jack chuckle behind her and despite her pissed-offness, she cracked a smile. One thing for sure, the countless boring hours of this case were now a thing of the past. She just hoped she’d survive the force of nature that was Jack Thornton.

  “You know you’re secretly relieved I showed up, Cavanaugh,” he said, catching up to her.

  “Don’t talk to me.”

  “There’s another full moon in two weeks and you don’t have shit to go on. That’s why I’m here. Work with me.”

  She reached for the steel door handle at the same time he did. She stiffened. “I’m not Donna. I can open my own doors.”

  Jack yanked it open and held it for her to pass through. “Yeah, I know, you’re the baddest ass walking the streets of Oakland.” He grinned and winked, then said, “Who happens to have the nicest ass walking the streets of Oakland.”

  “Don’t,” she growled, secretly liking the compliment, damn it!

  Jack threw his hands up in surrender. “My bad.” He walked through the closing door ahead of her and laughed out loud when she kicked him in the ass.

  Hurrying to climb the stairway with him, not behind him, Stevie mentally grumbled. The very last thing she wanted was to spend her days sitting in the stuffy room on the fifth floor across the street from a serial killing man-whore and watch the paint dry around the elusive Spoltori while her ex-lover breathed down her neck.

  Then the image of the three lifeless victims swam before her.

  Just before they came to the metal door opening to the lobby level, Stevie stopped and turned to Thorn. “Between myself, my partner Oliveras, and the two other detectives who switch out with us, and one assigned patrol car each shift, we have eyes on Spoltori around the clock. We don’t need you or your men.”

  Jack reached past her and yanked open the door. He stood back, a sardonic smile twisting his lips as he indicated she precede him, which she did because despite the fact that she was a woman in charge, she appreciated the gentlemanly gesture. Especially from Jack. “Even including yourself,” he said, following her to the elevator, “and adding your inept partner, and the two other dicks assigned to this case, what do you have to show for the investigation aside from a hunch and some weak circumstantial evidence on Spoltori?”

  The inept partner comment stung. Because it was true. Oliveras was lazy and he was a ladies’ man who spent more time sexting than knocking on doors. She carried the load for both of them. The other two dicks were solid and split their time between keeping a watch over their suspect and hitting the streets. But Stevie had more than a hunch; she had concrete links between the three dead women and Spoltori. She also had a plan to flush him out.

  She punched the fifth-floor button. The doors immediately opened and they stepped in. Jack hit the button, the doors closed, and up they went.

  Dander up, Stevie turned, catching Jack’s irritated expression. All personal feelings aside, the one thing she could never take away from Jack was his dedication to the job. Jack’s single-minded tenacity had been evident in the way he instructed at the academy. His street cred on the mean streets of Oakland was legendary. His tenure had been short, but had made a hell of an impact on the crime rate within the city limits. Jack Thornton was his own wrecking crew who had his own brand of dishing out justice, one that didn’t normally agree with the General Order. But he always got the job done. His choice to go into the FBI had always puzzled her. If anything, she thought the feds would keep him on a short chain, not the longer leash of local police work.

  “I’ve got more than a hunch.”

  “I’m looking forward to your brief.”

  The elevator doors opened. Stevie strode down the hall to the surveillance room. Taking out her key she unlocked the door and stepped in. As she did each time she entered this room, no matter how many times a day she did, her eyes were drawn to the large storyboard with the pictures of the three victims prominently displayed. Their lifeless eyes staring at her, a constant reminder of why she was there. Why she endured the ceaseless hours of boredom staring through a camera lens, the interminable hours on the computer haunting chat rooms under assumed names, and why she wore out the soles of her shoes on the street looking under every rock for a clue.

  She didn’t sleep. She had to remind herself to eat. She had a suitcase in the corner with fresh clothes and her toiletries at the ready in the small half bathroom that came with the office, for God’s sake! This was her case. She lived it 24/7. And she had failed to produce enough evidence to get even a simple search warrant. They couldn’t even get Spoltori for spitting on the sidewalk or throwing a candy wrapper out his car window. He was slick, and she knew after his little show earlier that he was on to her. And if he was on to her, then her nose was on the right scent.

  She did need help, damn it, but not from Jack! Anyone but him. And not because of their history . . . Well yes, totally because of their history. Because she hadn’t moved on, and because she hadn’t, it would interfere with her investigation.

  With her back to him she let out a pensive sigh, and then slid her hands into her pants pockets. She turned around and faced him fair and square. “Jack, please, pull yourself off my case.”

  Cocking his head he chided her. “Can’t stand a little heat? What the hell kind of cop are you anyway?”

  Something inside of her snapped. Dumping her backpack on the floor she got into his personal space. “The kind that has some integrity and refuses to put up with an egomaniac, ex-lover who’s bent on making her nothing but miserable.”

  His jade eyes flared a challenge. “Chicken.”

  “Taunting me won’t change anything, Thorn.” Inclining her head toward the window she continued, “I’d rather spend the day with Lothario over there and take my chances. At least with him, I’d be in control of the game.”

  Jack laughed, the sound husky and deep. Her skin flushed beneath the percussion of it. Her reaction to it while she was so pissed solidified all the reasons why she could not work with him. As controlled as she was in everything in her life, she had no control of this one aspect. It maddened her that she was still s
usceptible to his pull.

  “I don’t play games, Detective.” He leaned into her. “I play for real.” His nostrils flared when a small gasp escaped her lips at the intensity of his nearness. “That POS killed three women, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let our history prevent either one of us from getting him before he does it again.” He pulled her around and pointed to the wall of death. Dead eyes stared back, begging to be put to rest.

  “I’d work with the fucking Taliban if it would bring those victims justice.”

  Stevie elbowed him in the ribs as she turned around to face him. “My responsibility is also to the victims as well as their families. But how the hell am I supposed to do my job with you breathing down my neck like a dog denied?”

  Jack’s lips twitched as he rubbed his chest where she’d elbowed him. “Consider it an adverse condition and deal with it.”

  “With no hazard pay? Forget it.” She was joking, of course, but if she accepted her new working conditions and her new partner, she was opening herself to a world of hurt.

  “No hazard pay, just the hazard of working with me.” His eyes darkened. “Besides, I owe you.”

  “You don’t owe me, Jack.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe this case will help wipe the slate clean between us.”

  Wipe the slate clean between them? What slate did she have to wipe clean? Stevie made a sound similar to a snarl. He was impossibly obtuse. The most stubborn man on the planet. But also the sharpest. Sharper than even the illustrious Sheriff Cavanaugh.

  She glanced at the lifeless victims again. She was their voice now, their champion, and as much as she didn’t want to work with Thorn, she wanted to nail Spoltori more. No one deserved to die like those women had. So she would suck it up, pray she wouldn’t fall too hard and hurt too bad when it was all over, because she was going to work with Jack Thornton on this case. But on her terms. Stevie smiled blithely and gave Jack a sideways glance.

  “I have three conditions.”

  He raised both brows, as if skeptical that she had any say. But she did, in fact, have a say. A lot.

  “I’m listening.”

  “I’m team captain.”

  Jack started to shake his head, but she quickly put her hand up in the stop position. “We work out of my house, not yours. Your men report to me as they report to you, and take orders from me without asking your permission first.”

  “That’s four conditions.”

  “I’m a woman; it’s my duty to change my mind when it suits me.”

  “I’ll give you co-captain status, but understand my word is the final word.”

  Stevie ground her teeth, but kept silent.

  “My house has more advanced technology and a larger support staff.” When she didn’t argue he continued, “My men will report to us both and after we have consulted and agreed on a mutual order of business, feel free to order away.”

  She opened her mouth to counter when he put his hand up in the same stop position she just had. “I have a few conditions of my own, Detective.”

  Stevie exhaled loudly, crossed her arms over her chest, and said, “I’m listening.”

  He smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and clamped it shut for a thoughtful minute before he finally spoke. “No going behind my back.” He leaned into her when she pursed her lips. “For anything. We are to be one hundred percent transparent with each other. We’re a team, Detective. It will serve no purpose if we’re counterproductive.” When she didn’t speak, he stepped back.

  Surprised when he didn’t keep going, she asked, “That’s it? No more conditions?”

  “One more.” He looked directly at her. “There are to be no references to our history. It has no relevance to this case.”

  Stevie’s heart slammed high in her throat. His words hurt. She knew he hadn’t given her a second thought when he never once contacted her, not even a text to say, “Hey, you were a great lay, now it’s time for me to move on. Have a nice life.” But for him to say their past had no relevance stung deep.

  The sting galvanized her resolve. More importantly it closed the one door she had kept open in her mind. The one that welcomed another meeting with Jack in the hopes of furthering their relationship the second go around. Now she knew. That door was closed. Had been as far as Jack was concerned. It was past time she accept it. She inhaled deeply, then let the exhale go, long and slow.

  “I have one more condition, Special Agent Thornton.”

  “You have some balls, Detective.”

  “I accept your conditions. All of them. Just so long as you understand that if you so much as lay one finger on me, I’ll take you down so fast your head will spin off your neck.” The faint lines at the creases of his eyes crinkled. He thought it was funny? Grabbing a handful of her breasts, she smirked at his sharp intake of breath. “These are mine. I only share if I want to. I don’t want to share them with you, now, or ever. Look at them or touch them, even by mistake, and I’ll fucking geld you.”

  Jack threw his head back and laughed, the sound deep and mellow. Truly amused. “Oh, Cavanaugh, I trained you well.”

  “You have no idea,” she threw at him before she grabbed her pack up from the floor. As she set it on the small table by her chair, the office door opened and another suit walked through it.

  “Detective Cavanaugh, meet Special Agent Deavers, our resident IT specialist,” Thorn said.

  Stevie extended her hand to the tall, handsome agent. “I’d say I’m glad to meet you, Deavers, but under the circumstances, I’m feeling a little cheated.”

  He nodded and shook her hand, then gave Thorn a knowing look. “We get that a lot.”

  Stevie released his hand and gave Thorn a sideways glance. “I know you guys have better toys, but ours aren’t that archaic and we have a designated room for this investigation back at HQ, not to mention we’re close to city hall. I suggest we not dismantle what we’ve built for your convenience. We have room for your technology.”

  “It’s not about convenience, Detective, we have support staff—”

  “So do we. Plus my staff is up to speed. Including the hot little blonde you were dawdling with earlier today. I don’t want to waste any time briefing anyone but you and your immediate men. We need penetration, now, in the form of warrants and a man inside that apartment as well as Spoltori’s dungeon before that prick kills again.”

  “Dungeon? Man inside?”

  Stevie nodded. She had been wrestling with her idea for two weeks, but didn’t have the confidence in her team to back her play. Now the feds were involved, Jack specifically, who she knew would not allow anything to happen to her, despite his indifference.

  “I’m getting close to setting up a meet with Spoltori via the chat rooms—”

  “Are you suggesting that you go in undercover as a—what?”

  “A player.”

  Jack scowled. “A player as in you allow him to put his whips and chains on you?”

  “Not that extreme, but along those lines. Under the pretense of being a player, I can get into his world and gain his confidence.”

  “The guy’s a sadist. He gets a hold of you and we can’t get to you, you’re going to get hurt or worse.”

  Stevie smiled and readjusted the video camera on the tripod. “And that will break your widdle heart, will it?”

  “No one likes to lose a man on their watch.”

  As she sat down in the chair and put her eye to the camera, she focused in on the apartment, and scowled. The blinds were closed. “I’m not a man, and this is my watch, not yours.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  Stevie sat back; half turned in her chair, and faced him. “Of course you don’t. But I sure as hell am not walking into his dungeon and asking for a confession.”

  “You can’t go in, it’s too risky and
he’ll recognize you.”

  “I didn’t interview him, Oliveras did. He has no idea who I am or what I look like.”

  Jack’s scowl deepened. “If that’s an option we choose, I’ll request a female agent from violent crimes as the bait.”

  Stevie wanted to punch him. This was not negotiable. “My case, my terms, Special Agent.” Considering the topic closed, Stevie pulled out her cellphone and texted Oliveras, who had not returned her call but should be down at the Starbucks across from the entry of Spoltori’s building watching for him.

  Any sign of the subject?

  A firm. He headed south on Broadway about thirty minutes ago.

  Is he in sight?

  Negative.

  And you didn’t notify me of his movement why?

  Figured you watched him exit.

  What did that have to do with keeping tabs on him now? Hard to do when the blinds are closed.

  My bad.

  “Idiot,” she, mumbled under her breath.

  I left a voice mail a half hour ago, Stevie irately texted.

  Phone’s on the fritz.

  Get a new one asap, and keep me posted on the subject.

  Will do to both.

  Thorn held up his cellphone and showed her the texts he had received from one of his men with detailed updates on Spoltori, who was currently shopping the produce section of the corner market. She didn’t bother updating Oliveras. Let him chase his tail for a while.

  “Thanks for rubbing it in, Jack.”

  Feeling deflated, Stevie stood and gave Thorn a long dry look. She needed to get out of here. Away from him. Away from the case, even for just a few hours. “Since you have this covered, I need to take care of a few housekeeping items back at the PD.”

  When he didn’t object, she pulled a laptop from her backpack, set it down on the table, and pointed to the inserted flash drive. “My notes on the case. Detective Sidel, my relief, is on his way in. He’ll bring you up to speed.”

  Feeling cornered with no control, she moved past him.