by Virna DePaul
“Why didn’t you just stay away? You could have had a fresh start. Started as a cop in—in whatever city you were living in without having to worry about Guapo.” Without having to worry about me.
Only he hadn’t really worried about her, had he? He’d stayed away from her for three and a half years. Despite the fact he hadn’t been using drugs. Despite the fact he’d been attending the police academy. Despite the fact he’d graduated at the top of his class.
She wanted to ask him why. Why he hadn’t come to her? Why he hadn’t asked her to go with him?
Because she would have. She would have given up everything, her job, anything, to have started a new life with him and Mattie.
Her despair must have shown on her face.
“What is it, Linda? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Why did you come back to Sacramento, Tony? Because it wasn’t for me.”
He stared at her. “Not at first, no. But I didn’t think you were an option for me, remember? Cop or not, I’m still a recovering drug addict, Linda. I always will be.”
His words made sense, but they didn’t ease the pain swirling through her. All she could think was that he’d stayed away from her a little too easily. Just like her father had stayed away after her mother had left him.
If he’d cared, if her father had cared, he wouldn’t have stayed away. He’d have fought to be with her. To stay with her. Even if all that meant was answering her letters from prison. The fact that he hadn’t was like a blade to her throat.
She raised her chin. “So tell me why you came back. Was it because of Justine?”
“No. It was because of Justine’s brother. A teenage boy who used to run drugs for Guapo.”
Her brow crinkled. Justine’s brother? A boy that used to—
Ah, she thought. More puzzle pieces moved into place.
Click, click, click. “Rory,” she said.
“You remember him?”
“You talked about him a couple of times. I could tell you adored that kid. You had such hopes for him. You’d thought he could get clean, could even go to college. But that didn’t happen, did it?”
“No, it didn’t.”
So what did? She was about to ask the question when the answer hit her like a ton of bricks. “The bath-salts drug. He took them. And they killed him?”
He nodded. “Yes. And before they killed him, they drove him mad.”
“Is that why Justine killed Guapo? Because you’ll never convince me you killed Guapo. She did, didn’t she?”
After only a brief hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah. She did. She thought she was meeting a friend at that garage but suddenly Guapo was there. She managed to ring me on her cell phone and tell me where she was. I heard Guapo questioning her about me. Before I got there, he’d roughed her up. I pulled him off her and we fought. Guapo injured me pretty bad and turned on Justine again, but by that time she got to the knife Guapo had dropped. She killed him in self-defense.”
And Tony had covered it up. Why? Did he really care that much for the woman? The thought made Linda’s heart ache. “What about the knife she used?”
“She left with it before the police arrived.”
“And she left you there? To take the rap for her?”
“It’s what we’d agreed on. And what I owed her. Hell, even with all my training, I hadn’t been able to protect her anymore than I’d been able to protect Mattie. I was the cop and I needed to do what was right. What was best for everyone.”
Best because he loved Justine? “Why? Why was taking the rap for a murder you didn’t commit the best thing to do?” she forced herself to ask.
“It allowed me to protect Justine when I hadn’t been able to do so before. Plus, Guapo peddled the Rapture that drove Rory insane before they killed him. Those drugs are still out there, doing the same to countless others. We’ve penetrated Guapo’s organization. What better way to keep me inside than if people believe I was ruthless enough to kill him?”
“What do you mean ‘we’ve’ penetrated the organization? Who are you working for? And what’s your mission exactly?”
“I’m working in conjunction with the FBI to bring Guapo’s drug ring down once and for all, but no one’s been able to figure out the identity of the primary Rapture supplier.”
“That’s why you’re trying to set up the meeting with him.”
“Yes. And we were going to meet. The time and place were all set up, only...”
“Only you got hurt protecting me...again.” She shook her head in amazement. “So Justine killed Guapo.”
“Like I said, it was in self-defense.”
“Are you sure about that?” she said slowly.
Tony frowned. “Yes. I was there, remember? She’s a good woman, Linda. She’s been helping me, well before Guapo got out of prison. She hates what drugs did to her brother. She wants vengeance as much as I do. Wants the drugs off the streets. She’s helping me nail the supplier.”
Pain filled her chest, like a cement block had been inserted behind her lungs. “I’ll ask again. Are you sure about that, Tony? Don’t you remember what I told you about seeing her in the bathroom? About her taking drugs?”
He sat up, the blanket and sheet sliding down to bare his chest. The expression he wore was shuttered, his jawline tight. “I can’t know if Justine is using drugs or not,” Tony said “Does it really matter that much? Someone who uses drugs isn’t inherently evil. But maybe that’s exactly what you still believe. Maybe, despite all your claims that you believe in me and how good I am, maybe you think that deep down inside, I’m evil, too.”
Chapter 24
Tony’s relief at being able to finally tell Linda the truth had morphed into a lump of bitterness. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t shake it.
Linda thought Justine was a druggie and, in her mind, that had automatically equated to Justine being a user, a murderer or both. Maybe he wasn’t being fair, but all he could think was Linda must see him the same way. Would always see him that way. As flawed. Untrustworthy.
Sure, she believed in him now. But they weren’t in a relationship and she hadn’t said she wanted that with him again. Hadn’t said she’d stay with him once this mess was over, or that she’d stick by him through thick and thin.
And even if she had said it, he wouldn’t have believed her.
Tony didn’t kid himself. He’d made something of himself. But he was on a dangerous assignment. Even if he made it out alive and accomplished what he wanted, he was always going to be a drug addict. There would always be difficult times. And bottom line—he didn’t trust Linda to stick by him to get back to the good ones.
Linda was in the kitchen, tidying things up before they left for Sacramento. He finished stripping the linens in the bedroom, carried them into the laundry room, and then went to go get her. She was digging around in the pantry.
“We need to head back. You ready to go?” he asked.
From inside the pantry, she said, “Yes. I’m just looking for a new garbage bag.” Her voice was stiff. Quiet. Distant.
The truth had briefly brought them together but it had also torn them apart. He wondered if it would always be that way between them.
This time, however, the distance was his fault, not hers.
Maybe he’d reacted too defensively when she’d expressed suspicion about Justine. She’d just been trying to help, after all.
“Linda, I’m sorry about earlier. About what I said. I guess when you accused Justine of using me, it pushed a button of mine.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Linda?”
She stepped out of the pantry.
He frowned at the expression on her face. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Her eyes were wide and round and her mout
h was slack. Tony noticed she was holding a shoebox in her hands—hands that were trembling.
“What do you have there?”
Linda set the shoebox down on the kitchen table and lowered herself in a chair. Instead of answering him, she just stared at the box.
Tony flicked the lid off the shoebox and looked at the contents. Envelope after envelope, all stamped. Some were opened, and he could see the childlike loops in the writing of the address on the front. Others were unopened, addressed to Linda and Kathy Delaney in what looked to be a man’s handwriting.
“Linda?”
“I wrote him,” she whispered. “After we moved to Texas. Despite what had happened. I wrote him all the time. But he never wrote me back. Not once. He never called, never sent birthday cards. It was as if Kathy and I no longer existed for him.”
He sat down next to her. “You’re talking about your dad?”
She nodded. “I hated him for putting his thieving before his children. We always came second, no matter how he denied it.”
Tony pulled out one of the unopened letters addressed to Linda and Kathy. He ripped the envelope open and pulled out the contents and began reading.
My dearest children,
I know that once again your mother will not allow you to read this letter, but I am writing you anyway. I regret the choices I’ve made in my life. How much I regret losing you two. You both are the light of my life, and I wish so much I could see you grow up. Your mother has her reasons for keeping you from me, and although I don’t agree with those reasons, I can understand why she’s doing so. Just know that every day, every hour, I think of you two girls, and I will never stop regretting what I’ve done.
Love,
Daddy.
Linda swallowed audibly. “Are they all like that?”
He ripped through one unopened letter after another, and read them out loud. They were the words of a father in pain. Their dad had screwed up his life so much he’d lost the only things that mattered to him—his daughters.
After reading the last one, he cleared his throat. “He loved you. Your mom didn’t mail your letters and she didn’t give you his letters because she was trying to protect you.”
Before his eyes her stunned expression hardened. She pressed her lips together and looked at him. “Of course she was protecting me. She knew who he really was. Knew how easily he said he loved us. But if he’d really loved us, he’d have done what was right. He’d have done what it took to stay with us. That’s what love is. Action, not just words.”
As she spoke, her eyes held condemnation.
For her father.
But somehow, Tony knew they also held condemnation for him.
He tapped one of the envelopes addressed to her dad. “So your father was in prison when you wrote him. You never told me how he died. Had he already been released?”
“My dad was in prison when I wrote him those letters, yeah.” She paused. Took a deep breath, then blew it out. “And he still is.”
Tony jerked. “You told me your dad’s dead. You told everyone your dad was dead.”
“You’re right. I did. It was easier that way. Since he never wrote or called me, he was as good as dead anyway.”
“But what about this reporter who’s connected us? Isn’t it possible word of your father will get out and be used against you, too?”
Linda shrugged. “I told the D.A. about my father before I ever agreed to run for judge. Considering we’re estranged, that I haven’t seen him in years, he said it didn’t concern him. That my past could actually work in my favor. That I could argue I’ve been personally exposed to both sides of the law. That I ultimately chose the right one. And that I can make the hard decisions to do what’s right.”
“Right,” Tony said softly. “The hard decisions. Like cutting people from your life that aren’t good for you. People like your father. And people like me.”
* * *
The ride back to Sacramento was just as quiet as the one to Grass Valley. This time, the silence was caused not by Tony’s unconsciousness, but by their unwillingness to bring up a sore topic, when all topics between them seemed to fall into that category.
They were about twenty minutes outside the city limits when Linda abruptly spoke.
“I’m going to help you find the Rapture supplier.”
For a second, he thought he’d misheard her. When he realized he hadn’t, he glared at her. “No way. I don’t need your help. I had a meeting set up with him, remember? He’ll contact me again. And if he doesn’t?” He shrugged. No way in hell would he let Linda help him on this case. No way in hell he’d allow her to be in danger.
“Don’t be stubborn, Tony. I can help you. I have connections.”
He snorted. “Come on, Linda! You really expect me to rely on you?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you seem to leave every time the going gets tough. You told people your dad was dead. You left me when you thought I might start taking drugs again. In an operation like this, Linda, you have to trust your partner. You and I may have great sex, but I don’t trust you. Not to stick around for the long haul.”
He realized he wasn’t just saying it to drive her away. He meant it.
His chest ached. They’d had an idyllic time in the woods, but that little cabin in the foothills wasn’t real life. In real life, neither of them trusted the other. That wasn’t the basis for any kind of relationship, personal or otherwise.
By the look on her face, Linda knew it. But that didn’t mean she was going to do what Tony wanted.
“I know what you’re thinking, Tony,” she said. “I know you’re trying to push me away, trying to protect me. But we need to figure this out together. I need to protect my future. My job’s on the line here, remember? And my job, whether it’s as a D.A. or a judge, is all I have.”
Her blunt statement bothered him. She deserved so much more than her job, but she was right. She did important work and it wasn’t fair that her association with him was going to get in the way of that. Besides, he knew her. She was going to help him whether he wanted her to or not. Rather than fight it, he should accept her help but limit it as much as possible.
If he controlled the amount of rope she had, at least she wouldn’t be able to hang herself.
“Phone calls, Linda. That’s all you’ll do is make phone calls. And you’ll stay with me every minute, you understand? Am I clear?”
She nodded, and the muscle in her jaw flickered.
It was only later, after they’d reached downtown Sacramento, picked up a few of Linda’s things and checked into a hotel that he realized he hadn’t made her promise him.
Chapter 25
The bar stank of sweat and beer and blood and one hundred moppings hadn’t been able to cover it up. Although Tony would much rather be back at the hotel with Linda, he’d left her to do her thing with her laptop while he met with Yee.
“You were supposed to send men to protect Linda,” Tony said, his tone accusing.
Yee’s brows rose. “I sent men, yes. And they haven’t reported anything of interest.”
“Anything of interest? Or anything at all? Because Linda hasn’t been at her house for the past several days. I’d think you’d have known that if you’d sent men to protect her.”
Yee narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “Several days, huh? And you’d know this...how? No, wait. Let me guess. Because she was the reason you missed your meeting with the supplier?”
“Damn right she was the reason. She probably saved my life. After someone tried to hurt her and kill me.”
“And you think I had something to do with that? After someone tried to gun one of you down outside the courthouse. Was that my doing, too?”
“I’m just letting you know what m
y thoughts are. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I’ve given your name to my attorney in a sealed envelope. If something happens to me or Linda, you and your team will be investigated. Do you understand?”
“Oh. I understand all right.” Yee sighed. “Damn Cam Blake for his corrupt ways. Our police force is never gonna live it down, are we?” He shrugged. “Do what you need to do, Tony. But I’m telling you. This woman’s got you running around in circles. Your head’s clearly not in the game.”
At that moment Tony’s cell phone rang, but he let it go to voice mail and kept his gaze on Yee. As he did so, his suspicion that Yee was dirty evaporated. His instincts told him Yee was on the up and up, but he wasn’t ready to tell the other man that. Not yet. Standing, he said, “We’ve hit a dead end but it doesn’t mean I won’t be able to find a detour. When I do, I’ll let you know. Until then, remember what I said.”
Once Tony was outside, his cell rang again. This time he answered. “This is Tony.”
“You missed our meeting.” The male voice was familiar. It was the same person who’d called Tony before, claiming he’d supplied Guapo with the Rapture drug and that he wanted to do the same for Tony.
“It wasn’t intentional,” he said, trying to tap down his relief that he might just have another chance to nail this guy. “Someone tried to put me out of commission, but ultimately they failed. Let’s try again. I can meet you at the same place—”
“I never meet at the same place twice.” He rattled off a location in West Sacramento, then said, “I’ll call you next week with the date and time.”
“Next week?” Tony said. “No. That’s not good enough. We need to meet earlier.”
“You’re not in a position to be making demands. Mr. Cooper. I said I’d meet you. Don’t give me a reason to change my mind.”
“Damn it,” Tony said. “I—”
