by Joanne Rock
“We could offer immunity to a couple of buyers for some help tracking the people behind fastgirlz.” Mick sent the report he’d been working on and turned to look at Sean and Donata.
“No.” Their answers were simultaneous.
Mick shook his head.
“That kind of attitude is exactly why Sean’s been picking away at this case for so long. At some point you need to say enough is enough and make the arrests.”
“But I’m not making any deals with the buyers of illegal porn to do it.” Sean’s jaw tightened as he spoke. “They need to face the consequences and have their habits unmasked in the community if we ever want to make a dent in the demand for this kind of product.”
She tried not to bristle at his obvious attempt to run the show, but damn it, this had to be a decision made by the police. As much as she understood his anger at what happened to his sister, they couldn’t allow a vendetta to dictate how they made arrests.
“I think whoever is tormenting me will show up at the bed-and-breakfast sooner or later.” Donata intervened between the two men before tensions escalated. “I can stop by Sara Chapman’s house on the way to the Hamptons tomorrow and talk to her again, maybe elicit something she wasn’t ready to tell before.”
“She also might feel more comfortable talking to a woman,” Mick added, shoving away from his desk. “My daughter doesn’t tell me anything either and she’s about Sara’s age.”
“How is Katie doing?” Donata didn’t want to pry, but she felt a small kinship with Mick’s daughter and didn’t want to see Katie land in the same sorts of trouble Donata had.
“Her mother has agreed to let her spend weekends with me now that they’re going to be in New York for the next year. Maybe it will help.”
He didn’t look too certain of that. Donata couldn’t help but think his daughter was a lot more fortunate than some of the girls that had grown up on Donata’s street.
“It will.” She staggered to her feet, her eyes bleary from lack of sleep as she noticed the sun rising through a nearby window. “I’m going to book a hotel room nearby until my apartment is cleared and then I’ll drive out to the Hamptons tomorrow afternoon. You want to ride over there together so you can keep up the search for the boyfriend?”
Mick shook his head as his cell phone went off. “I’ve got to pick up Katie at two, but I might head out that way earlier in the day. If you give me a call when you’re ready to leave I’ll try to meet you out there to at least present a united front to Sara’s parents before I let you talk with Sara one-on-one.”
Nodding, she tossed her blanket on the chair and picked up her purse, ready to finally end this day.
Mick’s voice held her back.
“Donata, wait up.” His cell was tucked against one shoulder and he waved her over. “It’s the lab.”
“They can’t have results back already.” She turned to see Sean shrug, weary lines etched around his eyes.
“Your partner is one of the department’s best detectives and everybody likes the guy.” He put a hand on the small of her back as they waited for news. “Maybe the lab guys jump through hoops if he asks them to.”
She didn’t know how she felt about a system where some people got results faster than others, but she appreciated the way the department took crime against their own very seriously. For the first time at the 10th precinct, she felt important. She might not be a favorite among her colleagues, but she’d gotten the impression from everyone on duty tonight that targeting an officer—even her—pissed them off.
Mick clicked off his phone and tossed it on his desk.
“There were no prints at all on your computer or any of your own equipment, but we lucked out on the webcams. The lab found two sets of clear prints on both of them.”
“You’re kidding.” Donata held herself very still, scarcely able to believe their luck. “This operation seems too smooth to leave evidence behind.”
“Well, it’s not great evidence since the only print they have on file belongs to Sergio Alteri.”
The news hit her hard even with so many signs pointing in her ex’s direction. She couldn’t get her thoughts together enough to respond.
“I see.” Sean’s hand tightened around her waist. “Did the lab explain how a guy in federal prison can plant cameras in his old girlfriend’s place?”
* * *
HER LIFE WAS UNRAVELING faster than she could patch it together.
As they sped east into Long Island late the next morning, Donata recognized the impending disintegration of the carefully constructed facades she’d placed all around herself in the wake of Hurricane Sergio. But she didn’t have a clue how to build reinforcements at this point.
With each new day, another piece of her world chipped away in the maelstrom of a case that had become all too personal. The fact that she’d chosen now, of all times, to start sleeping with a guy who’d once arrested her only complicated matters.
“Are you going to be okay to talk to Sara Chapman today?” Sean’s voice on the other side of the SUV scattered her worries for the moment as he reminded her about the upcoming conversation with the accidental porn star from the webcam tape. “You couldn’t have gotten much sleep last night.”
She’d let him drive today to smooth things over after a disagreement about where she should spend the night. She’d been exhausted after they left the police station at sunrise, and Sean had suggested she sleep at his house for a few hours to avoid the hassle of checking into a hotel. But she’d needed some space and hadn’t budged on the hotel. Her wallet told her she was being obstinate, but her boundaries needed the regrouping time.
“I got a few hours.” Fitful hours where she dreamed about Sergio coming after her to take revenge, his finger pointing in her face as he listed all the ways she’d sinned, all the reasons she’d never be a respectable, honorable person. Even in her dream she’d been pissed off that a man she despised could touch her self-esteem. “Enough to conduct a coherent interview but not quite enough to drive.”
He didn’t say anything else and Donata realized she’d need a hacksaw to cut the tension hovering between the leather bucket seats.
But had she done anything she needed to apologize for? So what if she hadn’t felt right playing sleepover at his place? Wasn’t a woman entitled to a few issues? This was hers, damn it.
Well, one of hers. There were possibly a few others rattling around her subconscious if she cared to think it. Which she didn’t.
The silence stretched, broken only by some inane deejay on a local radio station.
She debated discussing the interview strategy with him, but ultimately figured she’d do better relying on feminine instinct when she spoke to Sara.
Then the radio snapped off and Sean released a gusty sigh.
“I put a call in to Ray Brook this morning. The prison where they’re holding Sergio.”
Everything inside her stilled. Quieted. Froze.
“What?” She’d heard wrong. There was no other explanation for him trampling her territory in this case without her permission.
“I wanted to find out how hard it would be to get in to see him if it comes down to that. But as it turns out, you’re on his approved visitor list.”
Her skin turned cold and sweaty at the same time, a sick clamminess that made her want to crawl back in bed. Or indulge the tide of pissed-off anger headed Sean’s way. She knew that Sergio had added her name to his visitor list—giving her an open invitation to see him while he was locked up—so it’s not like she was surprised to hear it. But what business did Sean have to take the initiative where Sergio was concerned?
“I didn’t say much about you taking down the link to my photo even though I asked you to wait in case we needed it for evidence.”
“But you didn’t need it—”
“That’s not the point and I think you know it. I’ve been a detective for exactly two months, Sean, and I don’t appreciate you steering this investigation for me just because
you’ve got more experience. The fact is, it’s my badge on the line this time and I don’t want to give it up simply because you’re determined to play rogue agent and call the shots.”
“I knew you’d want to talk to him eventually.” He kept his voice cool, reasonable.
Unlike hers, which drifted higher as her frustration wound tighter.
“You don’t know that. The man would gladly skewer me for turning evidence against him. I’m sure the only reason he added my name to his list was in the vain hope he could strangle me if I came to see him.” She gasped for deeper breaths, hoping the added oxygen would cool the clammy heat creeping all over her. “And even if I do want to talk to him down the road, I’d prefer to make the arrangements myself when the time is right because I sure as hell am not going to put myself in a position where the department is giving me an ultimatum to leave.”
She must have driven the point home because Sean went utterly silent on the other side of the SUV, leaving her with anger rapidly cooling into a fear she couldn’t take back her words.
* * *
MICK WAS WAITING in the driveway of the Chapman house when they arrived and Sean welcomed Donata’s partner’s presence to defray the tension pulled taut during the trip to Massapequa.
Sean hung back as Mick and Donata went to the door, remaining outside to check out the Chapmans’ little slice of suburbia. They lived in a modest house with a basketball hoop in the driveway and a big-ass barbecue grill on a side patio. It was the kind of lifestyle Sean had walked away from more than once since the idea of settling down had seemed so final. So…staid.
Did Donata want this kind of life one day? Most women he had dated in the past did. The ones with bigger budgets dreamed the same dreams, but on a different scale. To them, the suburbs meant Connecticut and the gas grill was a little more high tech. It all added up to the same thing in Sean’s mind.
Too isolated from real life to keep him entertained. Too content with the status quo when he pictured himself more as a mover and shaker.
But then, Donata’s voice entered his brain as he stared up at the Chapman house and he could almost hear her argue that he just wanted to play rogue agent whatever the hell that meant to her.
So, okay, maybe he knew what that meant. Why couldn’t she understand that he liked getting results without having to play the games involved with police department politics or kissing his captain’s ass to get the assignments he wanted?
Maybe he was used to getting his own way. Wasn’t there something to be said for having enough self-awareness to understand how you worked best? Looking at it from that perspective, he’d made a great decision by leaving the police force.
And—applying it to his personal life—he’d made a great decision to remain resolutely single. No wife, no kids, no shacking up just for the hell of it. Guys who didn’t like to follow anyone else’s rules were better off that way. Donata’s explosion on the drive over here had been a much-needed wake-up call.
Too bad nothing sucked quite like a ringing alarm in the middle of a good dream.
He stood watching a furniture truck delivering a couch to the house next door, wondering how much longer Donata would be before they drove the rest of the way to Southampton. When a movement out of the corner of one eye caught his attention, he whipped his head around to see a kid—a scrawny, dark-haired boy in his late teens—spin on the rubber sole of one sneaker in the middle of the Chapmans’rose garden.
And didn’t that seem a little suspicious?
Sean took off after him just to see who the kid might be. A cop might blow off stuff like chasing teenagers through back fences and across three properties since most guys on the force didn’t want to risk the scandals and scathing rumors that came with hauling in the wrong people. Picking up his pace, Sean just leaped a few garbage cans and ducked a clothesline that held a couple of frozen sheets before he collared the kid.
“What’s your hurry?” He pulled the teen backward by his sweatshirt, more than a little curious what the kid had to hide.
“You’re a cop.” Still trying to scramble away, the boy spit at Sean’s shoes, making it abundantly clear what he thought of law enforcement. Sean tugged him back into the Chapmans’ yard.
“Actually, you’re wrong there.” Sean adjusted his hold to bring the kid up short, lifting him off his feet so they were eye level. “I’m not a cop, so I don’t need to worry about your rights or your well-being if I decide I want to talk. Who the hell are you?”
The kid looked ready to spit again when Mick and Donata came charging through the back door of the house, followed by five people he could only assume made up the Chapman family.
Mick’s gun was trained on the kid while the older woman behind Donata pointed toward them.
“That’s him! That’s Sara’s ex-boyfriend.” Her dark glare convicted the kid as she reached for her teenage daughter as if to protect her from further harm. “He’s the one who bought her the webcams and hooked them up for her. Why don’t you ask him how my baby’s pictures ended up plastered all over the Internet?”
Donata, meanwhile, stalked closer. Her eyes were fixed on the pale, sweaty kid Sean held. And, oddly, the would-be escapee seemed as interested in her, judging by the way he swallowed hard as he watched her.
Almost as if…they knew one another?
“T.J. Malone.” She withdrew her badge from her jacket pocket and flashed it under the boy’s nose. “I sure hope you have a good reason for being here.”
CHAPTER 10
AS SEAN DROPPED the kid on his feet, Donata stared into the eyes of one of Sergio’s many godsons and wondered how a good kid could screw up his life this badly. The last time she’d seen T.J., he’d been a straight-A student who shown up at Serg’s house every now and again to help out with computer trouble. Serg had been a complete washout with technology and he liked to brag that T.J., son of a friend who worked at his auto body shop, knew more about computers than anyone on the garage’s payroll.
Probably an overstatement, but Sergio had always been skilled at drawing people in and making them feel appreciated. An excellent talent for a man whose success depended on the aid of people who were slavishly devoted to him.
She pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders and waited for T.J. to say something, his surly street expression at odds with the signs of suburban life all around them. A rusty chain on a nearby swing set squeaked as it blew in the wind.
“Maybe T.J. would remember his reason for being here if he came into the station with me,” Mick offered.
Donata hadn’t realized he’d followed her across the Chapmans’ backyard while the family waited on the deck. Mick looked at her strangely for a moment before his gaze darted to Sean, making Donata realize she’d inadvertently stood inches from Sean when she came on the scene, well within his personal space. When had her body become so in synch with his that she moved toward him automatically?
“It’s Terrance now,” T.J. corrected him, his angry attitude something new for him as he straightened his clothes. He turned to Donata. “And I dropped the Malone when my dad walked out. I don’t want to be identified with any guy too much of a chicken shit to raise his own kids.”
She remembered Sergio saying something about the kid’s father having an affair. Apparently T.J.—Terrance Joseph—had taken it hard. No wonder she hadn’t recognized Sara’s boyfriend’s name on the reports Mick had filed during his other interviews. She’d never heard of Terrance Russell. Maybe he’d started using his mother’s maiden name.
“So you have no respect for your own father, but you thought it would be a good idea to take direction from a man in federal prison?” Donata studied him carefully since body language often accounted for the most valuable information given when questioning a suspect.
She didn’t have to look at Sean beside her to know he was doing the same thing right now—watching and gauging the kid’s reactions. Would they be able to compare notes on this new turn later, or had she pissed him o
ff too much to continue working closely with him?
The thought churned uncomfortably inside her, worries coming faster than the wind whipping her hair past her ears.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Terrance scowled back and forth between Sean and Donata. “I thought you said you weren’t a cop?”
Donata glanced over to Sean, wondering how that topic had come up and how much Sean had said to the teen.
“I’m not.” Sean glowered unpleasantly. “They kicked me out for being too rough with suspects. Just ask her.”
Clearly he was trying to intimidate the kid. An unwise tactic when they needed his cooperation since there was no way he could be behind the larger crime of illegal film distribution.
She was about to intervene when the boy paled.
“I didn’t hurt anybody.” He twisted unsuccessfully against Sean’s hold. “Sara wanted to make the tape. We were going to split the cash and use it to get out of here after she graduates. Then she got mad at me when her parents found out about the video and she faked like she didn’t know the thing was going to be a moneymaker for us.”
Donata wondered how much of this conversation the family could hear as they stood watching from some thirty yards away. Five other lawns backed up to the same property and Donata noticed plenty of blinds shifting on nearby windows to take in the suburban drama.
“This was going to be your moneymaker?” Sean’s voice growled into the cold wind, animal-like and angry. “She’s an underage girl, you dumb ass. You could go to jail for statutory rape alone, let alone all the other ways you’ve taken advantage of her. And you think your father’s a bad guy for walking out on his family? Take a look in the mirror, kid, because you’re turning out a hell of a lot worse than the old man. At least he tried to suck it up and make his family work.”
Donata didn’t know who was more surprised by the outburst, her or Terrance. She agreed with Sean, but she didn’t know what good it would do to yell at the kid and scare off any hope they had of getting him to cooperate.
