Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series)

by Snow, Tiffany

  I shook my head. “Chance would never get involved in something like this,” I denied. “You’re wrong, both of you.”

  “He’s the right-hand guy,” Kade retorted. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but he’s been in the middle of several deals going down and transports of cargo.”

  I looked blankly at him.

  “Women,” he clarified. “Girls. Some as young as thirteen, fourteen.”

  I felt like I was going to be sick, my stomach rolling. I had to get out of here, away from the photos that didn’t lie.

  Turning on my heel, I hurried out of the room.

  “Kathleen—” Kade said, then Blane interrupted him.

  “Let her go. Give her a minute.”

  I walked quickly down the hall, ending up in the kitchen without realizing where I’d been going. I couldn’t think about Chance, couldn’t consider the possibility that he’d do those things. No. It had to be a lie. There had to be some sort of explanation, even if I had seen him accompany that white van the other night. My stomach clenched. Had the van been full of… women?

  “Good morning!” Mona greeted me cheerfully. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please.” I smiled reflexively at her warm welcome.

  “Gerard got your car for you this morning,” she said as poured some coffee into a cup, added cream and sugar, and handed it to me. “If you have need of it today.”

  “That’s great,” I said, sipping the dark brew and welcoming the escape she’d just handed me. “I… need to get to work this afternoon anyway.”

  “The keys are on the counter.” She motioned vaguely with her hand. “I was just getting ready to call the boys for lunch. Are you hungry?”

  My eyes widened as panic set in. I wasn’t ready, couldn’t face seeing them with accusations in their eyes. Was I protecting someone who dealt in human trafficking?

  “Actually, I need to get going,” I blurted, setting down the coffee and grabbing up the keys. I’d left my purse in the car, so hopefully, it was still in there. “Please tell”—I paused, stumbling over whether to say Blane or Kade—“… them… that I had to go.”

  “But you haven’t eaten yet!” Mona protested.

  “Sorry,” I said, pulling open the kitchen door. “Gotta run. Happy Valentine’s Day, Mona.”

  “You, too,” she called after me.

  I was such a coward. I berated myself, my procrastination, my propensity to avoid conflict, all of it, all the way home.

  Mona had been right. I should have eaten. In spite of all I’d been through, my stomach was growling, so I ran through a drive-thru on the way home. It took forever and my patience was at an end when I finally pulled into my parking lot. Since it was Valentine’s Day, I’d gotten a chocolate shake. Every girl should get some kind of chocolate on Valentine’s Day, I figured.

  Juggling my keys as I crossed the parking lot, I wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the smell of the fries in the bag, which was why I was completely unprepared when I heard him.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  I shrieked and spun around, dropping my shake on the ground. Chance stood behind me, arms crossed over his chest.

  “Damn it!” I looked down at the oozing chocolatey mess. “Look what you made me do!”

  “I’ve been waiting for you all night. Where were you?”

  Everything that Blane and Kade had said about Chance flooded my mind. Chance had lied to me. Had turned into everything I despised. A red haze clouded my vision.

  “You son of a bitch!” I yelled while flying at him, my fists hitting him anywhere I could reach. “How could you do that?”

  “What the fuck, Kathleen!” Chance exclaimed, grabbing my arms. In seconds, he’d immobilized me, locking my arms together and spinning me around so my back pressed against his chest. “What the hell are you yelling about?”

  “I’m yelling about your chosen career,” I seethed. “The one you haven’t said much about. You know, the one where you sell women and girls to be sex slaves.”

  Chance went utterly still, then abruptly released me. I turned around, glaring at him with hatred in my eyes.

  “We need to talk,” Chance said grimly. Bending down, he picked up my purse and my sack of food from the ground.

  “Why don’t you just do what you’ve done the past three years and disappear out of my life?” I sneered. “You’re pretty good at that.”

  Chance ignored me, wrapping his hand around my arm and dragging me forward to the steps.

  “Let go of me,” I spat. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “You always were stubborn, Strawbs.” Chance sighed, pulling me up the stairs to my door.

  “Don’t call me that,” I groused, rubbing my arm when he released me to unlock my door.

  Once we were in my apartment, I ignored him, going into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. I still hadn’t gotten my quota for the day.

  “Strawbs, listen to me—” he began.

  “Listen to what?” I snapped at him. “Listen to you tell me why you would be involved in something so… so disgusting? So inhumane? You’re not the man you used to be, Chance, and you’re certainly not the man I thought you were.”

  “Will you just listen to me for a damn minute?” he said, raising his voice in frustration.

  I clamped my lips shut and crossed my arms over my chest, silently waiting.

  Chance sighed tiredly, swiping a hand across his eyes. He stepped closer and lightly grasped my upper arms.

  “I would never, ever do anything of the sort,” he said firmly. “You know me better than that.”

  I raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything, waiting for more. There had to be more.

  “The fact is, Strawbs, I’m working undercover. I’m a cop.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I stared at Chance, openmouthed.

  “You’re what?”

  “I’m a cop,” he repeated, his hand dropping away from me. “Have been for a few years now.”

  “And you’re working undercover?” It seemed like something from a television show, not real life. My mind scrambled to keep up.

  Chance nodded. “We’ve been tracking this cell of human traffickers for over a year. I infiltrated them months ago.”

  “Do you know what happened to Julie Vale and Amanda Webber?”

  “Julie started working at the club, and Matt Summers noticed her. He never takes no for an answer, and the more they fight, the better he likes it.”

  I swallowed. “What about Amanda?”

  “I don’t know. I think she was sold.”

  The thought sickened me.

  “That’s why you can’t tell anyone about me,” he said earnestly. “If they find out I’m a cop, I’m dead.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to finish my assignment, and get Alvarez, that’s what I’m going to do,” he replied. “The only reason we haven’t yet is because I’m trying to get a trace to the distributor. These women are being smuggled out of the country and sold. If we can trace Alvarez’s contacts, we may be able to bring down more than just him.

  “So I don’t know who you were with last night,” he said, “though I’m guessing it was either Dennon or Kirk, but you can’t tell them I’m a cop.”

  “They would never—” I began.

  “Dennon would do anything if the money was right, and Kirk is Summers’s lawyer. I don’t trust either of them, and neither should you.” His voice was hard now.

  “They think you’re a part of it,” I argued. “They have photos with you and Alvarez.”

  “Even more reason to not tell them the truth. Let them believe I’m a bad guy. It’s not worth it otherwise. It’s not worth my life. Do you get that, Strawbs?” His gaze was intense. “Your misplaced trust could kill me.”

  His words shook me. I took a moment to absorb the seriousness of the situation before reluctantly nodding. “Okay. I won’t tell them.”

  Chance pu
lled me into a hug. “Thanks,” he murmured.

  His hand brushed the back of my head and I cringed.

  “What?” He released me. “What’s wrong?”

  I tentatively touched the cut. “Nothing. It’s just a cut. There was an… explosion… last night.” It sounded strange to say the words.

  Chance’s face turned hard. “You were in the explosion downtown? The gas leak in that apartment building?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a gas leak.”

  “How?” he asked. “Why were you there? It was the middle of the night.”

  “I was with Kade,” I explained with a shrug.

  Chance’s jaw clenched. “He’s a cold-blooded assassin, Strawbs. Dark and dangerous isn’t usually your type.”

  I flushed. “I’m not dating him.” I turned away from him and poured myself some coffee.

  “Then what are you to him? Or should I ask what is he to you?”

  I had no answer to the first question, couldn’t even begin to try to make sense of the tangled relationship between Kade and me to know if he still viewed me as a friend or not. Before the explosion last night, it had seemed pretty obvious I was firmly in the “unfriended” category. After the explosion… well, we’d been running for our lives, hadn’t we? Not exactly the best time for a heart-to-heart.

  As to the second question, that was easy enough. “I care about him,” I said. “He’s not evil, Chance.”

  My words didn’t seem to have any effect on Chance. “So he’s not evil the same way Kirk isn’t power-hungry?” His disdain for my opinion was obvious.

  “You’re wrong.” Anger on Kade and Blane’s behalf rose to the surface. “You’re wrong about both of them.”

  “And you’re blind,” he retorted. “You need to understand that when the shit comes down, they’ll pick themselves over you. Never forget that.”

  I glared at him until he stepped away, heading for the door.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Alvarez is expecting me,” he said. “I’ll call you later.”

  His hand was on the knob when he froze.

  I frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  He looked through the peephole, pulled his gun, and jerked open the door.

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  I blanched when I saw Kade standing in the doorway. Other than a narrowing of his eyes, he didn’t respond to Chance. He took in the gun Chance held before looking at me. I felt the disappointment in his eyes as if he’d spoken aloud.

  “Apparently one near-death experience wasn’t enough for you,” Kade drawled, his eyes returning to Chance. Though his body looked relaxed as he rested his lean frame against the doorjamb, I knew him well enough now to realize it was a feint. His muscles were coiled and ready to spring at the slightest hint of provocation.

  Chance got in his face, his finger pushing against Kade’s chest. “You stay away from Kathleen,” he hissed. “She’s too naive and trusting to know you for the killer you are.” Chance smiled a smile I’d never before seen on him. “But I’m not.”

  Kade moved so fast I couldn’t follow what he did, but then Chance’s gun was on the ground and Kade’s knife was at his throat.

  “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Kade’s tone was dry. “Now go away, before I change my mind about being nice.”

  Chance flushed angrily, but moved slowly away, stopping to pick up his gun and holster it. Neither of them took their eyes off each other.

  I hardly dared to breathe again until Chance had left. “What are you doing here?” I asked as Chance’s motorcycle pulled out of the lot.

  Kade turned back to me, sheathing his knife. “I’m here to fire you,” he said casually, brushing past me into my apartment.

  I stood in stunned disbelief. He went to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Shaking myself from my stupor, I shut the front door.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why would you do that? I know I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but I just started. Give me a chance before you fire me.”

  I couldn’t believe he thought I was so bad that he’d fire me already. He’d just been training me, had even taken me with him to Denver, so why fire me now?

  Kade didn’t meet my eyes. “Sorry, princess. You’re just not cut out for this type of work. Maybe the secretary pool would be a better fit. I’ll talk to Diane…”

  Fury sparked in me, combining with my overwhelming disappointment, and I lashed out, slamming the coffee mug out of his grip. The hot liquid hit my hand as the ceramic crashed to the floor, but I was too angry to notice.

  “Don’t give me that condescending bullshit!” I yelled. “You were giving me a chance, a chance to do something important, make a difference, and now you’re just going to take it away?”

  Kade’s eyes were blue chips of ice. “You want to make a difference? Go adopt a puppy. You’d have a better shot.”

  His words cut like razors, making my breath catch in my chest. My shock and hurt must have shown on my face.

  Kade cursed viciously and turned away.

  I sank down onto my couch, resting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. I felt, more than heard, Kade step in front of me. I didn’t lift my head.

  “Kathleen, I—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Kade,” I interrupted, forestalling what had sounded like the beginning of an apology. That or a weak-ass explanation. Neither of which I wanted to hear. “Just go.”

  He didn’t move. “I have to do this for Blane,” he said.

  My head shot up. I hadn’t been expecting that. “What does Blane have to do with it?”

  Kade’s face was a mask, carefully concealing his emotions. “Blane loves you. And I’m not going to keep putting you in situations where you’ll be in danger. I won’t be responsible for him losing the only woman he’s ever loved.”

  I stiffened. “So now you decide Blane loves me, and that gives him and you the right to decide my career path?”

  Kade didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

  I stood. I’d had enough. Enough of men deciding my life for me. Enough of my fate being tied to what they were or weren’t willing to give up, what they decided my future should be, be it Blane or Kade or Senator Keaston.

  “I have to go to work,” I said stiffly. “You can leave now.”

  Kade’s eyes narrowed. “You’re fired. Don’t go back to the club tonight. You’re no longer investigating that case.”

  “Too bad I have bills to pay,” I retorted. “And you just lost any say in what I do or where I go. So get out.”

  Kade’s mouth was a thin line, our gazes colliding in mutual anger before he turned and stalked to the door. I followed him, stopping at the door once he’d stepped through.

  “And Kade?” I called as he headed down the stairs.

  He stopped and turned.

  “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” I slammed the door.

  And that was yet another reason why I never expected anything for Valentine’s.

  I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and took a shower, still fuming from Kade’s visit. I was fixing my makeup when I heard a knock at the door. For God’s sake, what now?

  I yanked open the door, a smart-ass comment on my lips, when I saw it was my neighbor Alisha.

  “Hey.” I relaxed, giving her a smile. We hadn’t had a chance to talk in a while. “What’s up? Want to come in?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I brought you something.” She was carrying a small square pan, which she took into the kitchen.

  “Ta-da!” She pulled off the foil cover to reveal fresh-baked brownies. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

  “Alisha, they look fabulous! And just what the doctor ordered.” I gave her a hug. “Thank you! But wait, I have something for you, too.”

  I hurried into my bedroom, coming back with a big red heart. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

  Alisha was a little OCD, and she ate only a certain brand of chocolates, and then only a certain kin
d of chocolates that had hazelnuts in the middle. Luckily for me, they always made a ton of packages in all different sizes for the holiday. I’d gotten her the biggest heart I could find.

  Her eyes lit up. “Aw, thanks! Let’s eat.”

  I laughed. “Sounds good.” A huge dose of chocolate sounded just the thing. I grabbed some plates and a knife to cut the brownies while she opened the chocolates.

  “So what are you and Blane doing tonight?” she asked once we’d dug in. “Is he taking you to dinner?”

  I shrugged, my mouth full of brownie. “I don’t think so. He didn’t say. We had a big fight a few days ago.”

  “So did you make up?” she asked. “Make-up sex is the best, you know.”

  I laughed, licking chocolate from my fingers. “I don’t know. Sort of, I guess.” I thought of the senator. I needed to tell someone, get it off my chest. “His uncle, this big-shot politician, wants to buy me off to stop seeing Blane.”

  Alisha’s brownie-laden hand paused on its way to her mouth. “Are you for real?”

  I nodded. “Yep. Offered to pay my way through school, living expenses, everything. I just have to break up with Blane and move to another state.”

  “Holy shit,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “That’s… that’s insane.”

  “I know, right?” I crammed another brownie into my mouth. I watched as Alisha carefully nibbled her way around a chocolate.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I like to save the nut for last,” she said simply.

  “Huh.” Why was I not surprised that she would have a special way to eat chocolates?

  “I need milk.”

  “Got better than milk,” I said, jumping up and pulling a bottle out of the fridge. “Champagne.”

  I’d been saving it, though for what, I didn’t know. Now seemed as good a time to drink it as any, especially with my friend who’d brought me chocolate on Valentine’s Day. I tore the wrapper off and popped the cork. Grabbing a couple of glasses, I filled them very full. “It’s not Dom Pérignon, but it’ll do.”

  “Cheers,” Alisha said, clinking her glass against mine.

  “Cheers.”