“I hate you for this, Betancourt. I’ll never forgive you.”
The rancor in her voice made him wince. Without looking at her, he reached down and turned the key. “You’re not the only one,” he said, and pulled onto the highway.
Michelle knew Betancourt didn’t have a choice. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she was furious, with him, with fate, with the person who’d destroyed so many lives the night he’d murdered Armon.
Betancourt hadn’t spoken to her since the angry exchange on the highway, and she didn’t know how to breach the tense silence that had fallen between them. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter. That her heart wasn’t shattering. That it didn’t hurt her to her soul that he wasn’t willing to put his career on the line to keep her out of jail. But the pain was so sharp, so intense it was physical. The logical side of her brain knew she’d be out in a few hours. But if Betancourt was right, and someone in high places was calling the shots, who was to say that same individual hadn’t also convinced the judge to deny bail?
Michelle’s stomach rolled when they pulled into the rear lot of the Broad Street Police Station. She told herself she was prepared for the coming hours. Prepared to have her dignity, her very humanity stripped away. Only she knew better. Dread congealed in her chest as she spotted Cory walking toward them with long, purposeful strides, his face grim.
She started when Betancourt opened his door. She watched him get out of the car, then approach Cory. The two men spoke briefly, then Betancourt returned to the car and opened her door. Rather than let her get out, he leaned down and met her gaze.
“I swear I’ll have you out as soon as you’re processed. Jane Bevins will be here shortly. She got held up in court. She’ll make sure—”
Michelle raised her hands. “Don’t say it.”
He sighed, looked down at the ground. “Cory’s going to take you inside. I’ve got to go see Montgomery.”
Her heart skittered wildly, then beat out of control. Her breathing was short and choppy. Her face heated and for an instant she thought she might faint. “I don’t want handcuffs,” she said.
“No handcuffs. Cory will be with you as much as he can. You’ll be fingerprinted, then processed, and probably put into a holding cell. You’ll be out in no time. You’ve got my word.”
His eyes were darker and more solemn than she’d ever seen them. He reached for her hand, squeezed. “If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to find who killed Landsteiner. I swear I won’t let you burn for this.”
Michelle believed him. The realization stunned her, gave her the strength she needed to get through the next hours. “I know.”
He stepped back.
Her legs trembled as she got out of the car.
Without warning, he pulled her to him, crushing her against his chest. “I’m sorry it came to this, honey. I wish there was another way.”
“I’m glad I’ve got you on my side, Betancourt.” Tears stung her eyes, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She let them fall unheeded, and held on to him for dear life. He kissed her deeply, possessively, stirring her undeniably in spite of the fact that she was sore from their lovemaking the night before.
When her heart couldn’t take any more, she eased away from him and looked at Cory. “I’m ready,” she said.
Her courage faltered, but she knew it was too late to change her mind. Without looking back, she started toward the building, praying she could get through this without falling apart.
Five hours, and still no Betancourt.
He wasn’t going to show.
As she watched the clock on the wall outside her cell sweep to five o’clock, Michelle knew in her heart that he’d betrayed her. Five hours had passed since she’d walked away from him in the parking lot.
He wasn’t coming for her.
She looked down at the ink imbedded in her fingertips. Processing had been a nightmare, but not nearly as demeaning as what she’d endured all those years ago in Bayou Lafourche. Cory had stayed with her during the fingerprinting, then Jane Bevins had taken over as Michelle had checked in her possessions.
Betancourt hadn’t cared enough to show up.
Every time the doors clanged somewhere in the jail, her heart lurched with the anticipation of seeing him. Every hour he didn’t show, she’d come up with a new excuse for him. Only now, alone with her thoughts, did she realize how foolish she’d been.
He wasn’t coming.
He was a career cop. A detective who always got his man no matter what the cost, no matter who got hurt. She’d known all along he wouldn’t fall for a woman like her. Just because they’d shared a night of mind-numbing sex didn’t mean he loved her. Damn her heart for getting in the way and blinding her to the truth.
Turning away from the cold, steel bars, Michelle began to pace. Claustrophobia closed in on her like a pair of crushing hands. Panic rose in her throat, but she choked it down. She had to stay calm, had to think. Had to formulate a plan. She couldn’t spend the night here; she’d be stark, raving insane in another hour. Was there someone else she could call? Oh, God, how could she have been so stupid to have believed Betancourt cared for her? He’d betrayed her, just as Frank Blanchard had all those years ago. Only this was worse because she’d known better and jumped in feetfirst anyway.
She’d gone against everything she believed in by falling for Betancourt. She’d given him her body. Her heart. Her very soul. In return, he’d used her, lied to her, betrayed her. Now her heart was breaking and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it.
I swear I won’t let you burn for this.
His words rang in her ears with such clarity that tears sprang into her eyes. Furiously, she brushed them away. No, she wouldn’t cry; she wouldn’t break down now. Not when she would need every ounce of strength to get through the coming days. She couldn’t imagine spending the night here. She was cold and exhausted and felt dirty all the way to her bones.
Despair settled over her like a black cloak. She was alone. On her own. The reality hit her so hard she barely made it to the bunk before her legs gave out. She felt helpless, more vulnerable than she’d ever felt in her life.
I swear I won’t let you burn for this.
Liar, she thought.
Lowering her face into her hands, she wept.
Philip looked at the clock and squashed down anger for the dozenth time. He’d been locked up in Hardin Montgomery’s office for nearly five hours without respite. He’d lost count of the charges against him. Oddly, he couldn’t seem to muster enough interest to care.
“Betancourt? Are you listening to me?”
Philip glared at his superior. “I’m listening.” Damn, he’d been thinking about Michelle again. How could he not, knowing she was sitting in some dank cell waiting for him to bail her out?
He glanced at his watch.
“You got somewhere to go, Betancourt?” Ken Burns sneered.
“I’m just counting the minutes until I lose control and turn you inside out with my bare hands.”
Burns’s face reddened.
Philip smiled, but he felt as if he were going to explode. He was in trouble. Big trouble. From the looks of things, he’d be lucky to walk away without criminal charges being filed against him.
“Turn off the recorder, Ken,” Montgomery said.
Burns shot the superintendent a surprised look, then jumped forward to obey, punching the off button of the recorder.
Montgomery looked first at Ken, then at Philip. “We’ve been beating around the bush in here for five hours, gentlemen. I’m hungry, and I want to go home.”
The hairs on the back of Philip’s neck rose.
Montgomery’s gaze narrowed on Philip. “You’re facing some very serious charges, Lieutenant.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Charges that could ruin an outstanding career if you make the wrong decision today.”
Philip met his gaze. “I’m not sure I follow you.”
In an instant, the situation crystallized. Philip felt it all the way down to his belly. He nearly choked on the ensuing fury. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“There is no report. Michelle Pelletier is not a suspect, and she hasn’t been for quite some time.”
One of Montgomery’s jowls lifted in a snarl. “I’ll destroy you, Lieutenant. If you don’t submit that report and close this case, I’ll bring charges against you starting with aiding and abetting a suspected felon and obstruction of justice, all the way down to sexual misconduct. You’ll do time. You sure as hell won’t ever work as a cop again.”
“You know she didn’t do it, don’t you, Hardin?”
“You’ll be in a cell by day’s end if you don’t cooperate with me. I’ll make it tough for you.”
The thought of jail sent a quiver through his gut, but Philip didn’t react. He knew how cops were regarded by the inmates. He also knew that Montgomery wasn’t above that kind of blackmail.
“Go to hell,” he said.
“I’ll publish those photos if it’s the last thing I do. You won’t be able to get a job as a security guard. Not in New Orleans or any other city, for that matter. I’ll make damn sure you get a felony conviction on your record.”
Raw fury swept through Philip. He felt like a time bomb about to go off. Only the rage pumping through him with every beat of his heart wasn’t due to the loss of his career. The realization surprised him.
I love you.
Her words rang clearly in his ears, and for the first time he understood fully their meaning. The outrage burning inside him erupted from the knowledge that someone wanted to use him as a pawn to ruin an innocent woman’s life. A kind woman who’d already had more than her share of trouble.
A woman he loved.
A woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Rising, Philip pulled the miniature tape recorder from his trouser pocket and hit the off button with his thumb.
Montgomery’s piggish eyes widened.
Burns gasped and scooted his chair back as if expecting violence.
Planting both hands on the desk, Philip leaned forward until his face was inches from Montgomery’s. “Is this off the record, Chief?”
The fat man jerked his head once.
Philip smiled. “If any harm comes to Michelle Pelletier before I get down there to bail her out, I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.”
Montgomery choked. “You’re in no position to threaten me!”
“I’m in the perfect position to threaten you.” Philip had suspected for years Montgomery was dirty. Like most of the other detectives, he’d overlooked it. But no more. Not when Michelle’s life hung in the balance.
Beside him, Burns picked up the phone. “He’s a loose cannon, Mr. Montgomery. I’m calling in a patrol. A few hours in a cell ought to cool him off.”
Philip didn’t even look at him. “Put the phone down or I’ll break your arm, Burns.”
“Put it down,” Montgomery echoed.
The phone dropped back into place.
“That tape will never hold up in court, Betancourt,” Montgomery said. “You know that.”
“Maybe not, but the Times Picayune will have a freaking field day with it.” He started for the door.
“You walk out of here and you’re finished, Lieutenant!”
Philip never looked back.
Chapter 14
“Pelletier! You made bail.”
Michelle was on her feet before her eyes were fully open. Somehow she’d managed to fall asleep on the lumpy mattress. Bewildered, she blinked at the matronly guard and shoved a lock of hair from her eyes. “Someone’s bailing me out?”
“That’s right.” The woman’s keys jingled as she twisted the lock and opened the door. “I’ll take you to get your things.”
Michelle’s heart swelled as she stepped into the hall. Had Betancourt finally come for her? “Who bailed me?” she asked.
“Nobody’s waiting for you, if that’s what you mean.” The woman motioned toward the end of the hall. “Let’s go.”
Michelle fell in beside her, her mind running through the possibilities. Betancourt was the most logical candidate. But if he had, why wasn’t he waiting for her?
She stopped short of making excuses for him. No, she told herself firmly, she wouldn’t do that to herself. No matter how much she loved him, she had to accept the fact that Betancourt didn’t love her.
After picking up the few items she’d checked in, Michelle left the police station through the front door. Even in her exhausted state, an incredible sense of freedom engulfed her the moment she stepped outside. The night was so cold she could see her breath. The wind smelled of rain.
“Michelle.”
She started at the sound of her name, then spotted Derek Landsteiner standing beside his Volvo a few yards down the street. Surprise rippled through her when he motioned for her to approach.
“Derek?” Quickly, she descended the concrete steps and walked to his car. “What are you doing here?”
“I drove straight down when I heard. I couldn’t stand the thought of you locked up like an animal. I arranged bail.”
She tried to ignore the sharp pang of disappointment. She’d hoped Betancourt cared enough to make her bail. The realization that he hadn’t only confirmed what she already knew in her heart. He didn’t love her. She had to accept it. She had to go on. The cold reality of it sent tears to her eyes.
“Hey, we’ll get you a lawyer. You won’t go back.”
Derek mistook the cause of her tears, and Michelle didn’t bother correcting him. Disgusted with herself, she used the sleeve of her denim jacket to wipe her cheeks. “Thanks for coming through for me. It means a lot to me. Whatever the cost of my bail, I’ll repay you.”
He looked from left to right as if anxious about someone noticing them together. “I don’t want Danielle or Baldwin to know I did this. Hop in and I’ll take you home.”
Forcing a smile, she got in the car. The interior was warm. Michelle huddled in her jacket, trying not to think of everything that had happened in the last week, or how drastically her life had changed. She had lost not only her career and the only opportunity she would ever have for an education, but her very freedom.
The loss of her heart hurt infinitely worse. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Betancourt, the way his eyes had darkened when he’d made love to her, the way he’d looked at her when she’d walked away from him for the last time.
I swear I won’t let you burn for this.
Tears threatened again. Oh, Philip. She closed her eyes against the rush of pain. Why did she have to go and fall in love with him? After what had happened with Frank Blanchard, how could she have given her heart so foolishly?
“You okay?”
She started at the sound of Derek’s voice, realized she hadn’t said a word since she’d gotten in the car. “Yes, I’m just…shaken up.”
“I know a good defense lawyer, Michelle. I’ll give him a call, if you like.”
Her first impulse was to refute the fact that she needed an attorney, but after spending more than five hours in jail, she knew better. She couldn’t afford Jane Bevins. She obviously couldn’t count on any help from Betancourt. “Yes, I’d appreciate that.”
“I tried to call you yesterday, but I couldn’t reach you.”
For the first time it dawned on her that Derek didn’t know about Armon’s past, or that she was his half sister. “I went to Bayou Lafourche yesterday.”
He shot her a questioning look. “Wh
y did you do that?”
“I went to see my brother, Nicolas.” She pondered the best way to break the news. Should she wait until Danielle and Baldwin were present and tell all three of them together? No, she thought, the truth had been buried too long already. Derek had cared enough to risk his siblings’ wrath by bailing her out. She’d tell him everything now, then they could figure out together how best to break the news to Danielle and Baldwin.
“Detective Betancourt had dug up some information on Armon,” she began.
“Betancourt’s off the case.” Derek grimaced. “In fact, I think he’s off the force for…taking advantage of you.”
Heat rose in her cheeks at the memory of everything she and Betancourt had shared. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter what Derek or anyone else thought. But it did matter, she realized. Part of her wanted the world to know that her relationship with Betancourt had been beautiful and magical and rare.
Shoving the memories aside, Michelle looked over at her half brother, wondering how he would feel knowing she shared his blood. “This is complicated, Derek, so I’m just going to tell you what I know.”
The words drew a puzzled gaze from him. “What are you talking about?”
“Betancourt told me Armon hired a private detective to find me a year before I moved to New Orleans. He also has evidence linking Armon to my scholarship at Tulane.”
A laugh broke from his throat. “That’s absurd.”
“I thought so, too, at first. Yesterday I went back to Bayou Lafourche. I met with Nicolas, who proceeded to take my world apart by telling me Armon and my mother had an affair.”
“My God.”
“Armon was my father.”
Derek’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Who else knows about this?”
Something in his voice chilled her. “Betancourt,” she said slowly. “His partner. I think Betancourt was meeting with his superior this afternoon, so the commander may know as well.”
“Montgomery won’t be a problem.” Derek’s gaze swept to hers. The iciness of it sent a shiver up her spine.
“What do you mean?”
Though he didn’t look away from his driving again, a smile twisted his mouth. “That makes you my half sister.”
Remember the Night Page 21
