Connor choked on his beer and set the glass on the bar, coughing. "Good...ah, good to know." He took another drink and whispered, "Jesus. I'm gonna need to bleach my ears."
Then, more loudly, Connor continued, "If he doesn't show up in time to see you home, I'll do it. I have some big strengths, too."
An arm snaked around her waist and a familiar scent washed over her. Brendan. She turned, scanning his face for signs of injury. Nothing. "Hey," she said, making sure the people close to them could hear. "I missed you."
"Had some business to take care of," he answered.
Tightening his grip on Cilla's waist, he said to Connor, "Thanks for your help earlier. Really appreciate it. But I'm good. Sobered up. So Cilla will be going home with me." He pulled out his wallet and took out a few bills. "Here." He pressed the money into Connor's hand. "This should take care of my tab."
Connor held up his hands, the bills crushed into his palm. "Glad to see you made it back. You might want to pace yourself next time."
"Thanks for the advice."
He turned away from Connor and pulled Cilla closer. Nuzzled her ear. "Got one of Tiffany's pills. It's at the lab, being tested right now. We'll have an answer in the morning."
Cilla brushed her mouth over his neck. Bit down. A little too hard. "Glad to see you’re in one piece."
He flinched and tightened his grip on her. “What the hell’s wrong?”
“You’ve been gone for more than an hour,” she hissed into his neck. “Didn’t it occur to you to let me know you took off, partner?”
“I couldn’t,” he said. She felt his smile against her skin. He was a good actor. “Con was supposed to give you a sign.”
“He didn’t.”
“We’ll talk about this later.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then urged her toward the stage. "Looks like you have to get back to work."
In a louder voice, he said, "Carry your keyboards tonight?"
"Don’t you always?" She stared at him for a long moment. Her mouth smiled, but she knew her eyes held a different message. "You know I count on you."
His hand dropped away. "Good to know."
* * *
"What do you mean, we're going to your mom's for breakfast?" Cilla gripped the armrest on the car door and swiveled to face Brendan.
"No place else to go," he said calmly as he turned onto Belmont. "None of us have a big enough place. You want to take a chance and go to a restaurant?" He waited a beat. "Didn't think so. At least no one will overhear us talking at my mom's."
"I'm not going to your mom's."
"Why not?"
"Because she'll think I'm your girlfriend or something."
"Aren't you?" He glanced at her, and she couldn't read his expression. "My girlfriend?"
"You tell me, Donovan. What am I? What is this we have going on? Because I have no fricking idea."
She'd intended to go home last night. Stay by herself. But with the possibility of Welles getting bail, Brendan was adamant that she not be alone.
He’d apologized for leaving her hanging last night. Didn’t even try to blame Connor, which earned him some points. But she was tired of always being the one to fix things, always being the responsible one, tired of having everyone rely on her. She wanted someone she could rely on.
She'd thought she could count on Brendan. But she'd seen the panic in his face when he'd thought Bates had gone after her. Seen his horrified expression when he understood how much it upset him. Seen how fast he'd backed away.
It would take a long time to get the skid marks off her floor.
She'd been so sure she could count on Brendan. But after yesterday, she wasn't sure anymore.
She wanted sure.
Needed sure.
And she hated herself a little this morning. Even knowing there was no long term in the future for them, she hadn't been able to resist when he begged her to come home with him. Even though she knew it wasn't going to last, she wanted another night with him.
But she wasn't about to act all cuddly and girlfriend-y around his mother.
"Let's not do this right now, Marini." His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "Okay? Can we get through this case before we talk about feelings?"
The arrow hit her squarely in the chest. Cilla closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Another. "I'm fine not talking about feelings, Donovan. But I still don't want to meet your mother."
"I can't change things now. Everyone is probably there already. With the food. So suck it up."
She bit her tongue before she could point out that if she hadn't 'sucked it up' that morning, they wouldn't have been late. They would have had time to change the plan.
"It's not a big deal, Cilla." His voice became conciliatory. Teasing. "We're being thoughtful kids and having breakfast with our mother," he said with a tiny grin that she wanted to smack off his face. "Quinn suggested it, and it was brilliant. Why do you have a problem with that?"
Because she was meeting Brendan's mother, and hadn't had time to prepare. Physically. But especially mentally.
She wore an old, faded pair of jeans with a hole in one knee and a short-sleeved, tunic top. No make-up. Way too casual.
But right now, that wasn't what worried her the most. Brendan's mother was going to think they were a couple. Cilla knew it was going to be awkward. Uncomfortable. Embarrassing.
"Your mother's going to think I'm a complete slob," she muttered. She knew it didn't matter. She probably wouldn't see his mother again after today.
Still. Easier to address those fears than the deeper ones. She wasn’t going to reveal her vulnerability to Brendan. Not again.
"Cilla, relax." He reached across the console for her hand. "This is a business meeting. In a safe place. That's all. She probably won't even be there."
"Of course she'll be there." Cilla yanked her hand away from his.
"How do you know that?"
"Because your sister would have told her about our lunch earlier this week." She shoved her hand through her hair, catching it on a knot. Great. After lingering too long in bed that morning, they'd rushed out of the house so fast that she hadn't even combed her hair. "She thinks I'm your girlfriend. She'll be there."
"The cool, always-together Cilla Marini is worried about meeting a guy's mom?" He reached for her hand again. When she slid it under her thigh, he glanced at her. "Wow. Can't wait to see this."
"I hate you, Donovan."
"I get that a lot."
"I bet you do."
Fifteen minutes later, Brendan pulled to the curb in front of a bungalow on a block made up of other bungalows. The silence in the car had gotten thicker as they got closer. Heavier.
By the time Brendan turned off the engine, Cilla's heart thundered against her chest. She closed her eyes and tried to take deep, steadying breaths as Brendan walked around the car. He opened her door, then lifted the rear gate to let Franny jump out.
The dog rushed up the front steps, then stood at the door, watching them. As if saying, "Hurry up. Why are you taking so long?"
Brendan slung one arm over her shoulders and steered her up the steps. "It'll be okay, Cilla. My mom's great. Stop worrying."
"Right." She whirled to face him. "If this is meeting-the-moms day, we’ll go visit my mother after this."
He paled, and his arm tensed on her back.
"Yeah." She swallowed and shrugged his arm off her shoulders. "Figured that’s what you’d say. So stop being patronizing. And don't give me that 'nothing to worry about' shit."
"Jesus. What crawled up your ass?" he muttered.
You did. And not my ass. You crawled into my heart. Now you're stuck there, and it's pissing me off.
Hurting me.
"Take a look in the mirror, Donovan," she said.
Damn it! She didn't want to be in this by herself. But clearly she was. Every time she'd mentioned the future, he'd frozen. She moved farther away from him. She could read body language as well as any other cop. And his was sc
reaming 'I am so out of here after this case'.
Before Brendan could reach for the front door, it flew open. A dark-haired woman who looked like an older Mia stood there, smiling. "Brendan," she said, hugging him tightly. Then she turned to Cilla.
"You must be Cilla, Brendan's partner. Welcome." She held out her hand and shook Cilla's. Just as Cilla was relaxing, Brendan's mom pulled her into an embrace. "I'm Rose Donovan. Good to meet you."
"You, too, Mrs. Donovan," Cilla said, her face hot.
"Please. Call me Rose." She smiled. "We've been waiting for Brendan to bring someone to the house."
Cilla swallowed, her face on fire. "I'm here for a business meeting, Rose. That's all." She was burning up with embarrassed fury. At Brendan. For putting her in this position.
"I understand, Cilla." Rose smiled, sympathy and understanding in her eyes.
Cilla clenched her teeth to keep furious, mortified tears from spilling over. Damn Brendan for insisting they come here.
And damn herself for not putting her foot down and refusing.
She stepped past Rose, and the older woman bent to pet Franny. "Is Bren taking good care of you, Fran? Hmmm?"
"Shouldn't you be asking her if she's behaving herself for me?" Brendan retorted.
"Don't have to do that." Rose straightened and grinned at him. "Franny always behaves herself. You? Not sure about that."
She wanted to punch Brendan. The charmer. The guy whose blue eyes and smile made women fall at his feet. The guy who took nothing seriously.
"Hey, Cilla, need some coffee?" Mia came out of the kitchen with a carafe and a couple of mugs.
"I'd love some," Cilla said, hurrying toward Mia. She lifted the mug to her face, breathing in the scent of caffeine. Steadying herself.
As they sat around Rose's large dining room table a few minutes later, eating bagels with cream cheese, smoked salmon, capers and avocado, she pushed her anger down deep. The five of them were discussing what had happened at the pub last night. She needed to focus on her job. Not on whatever was going on between her and Brendan.
She heard Rose in the kitchen, talking on the phone. Franny sat next to Brendan, staring intently at him.
"So," Quinn began. "Have you heard from the lab about the pill?"
"No." Brendan set his bagel on his plate. "She's supposed to get back to me this morning. Thought it would be before this."
Before anyone could respond, his phone chimed. Brendan pressed the call button, listened for several beats, then said, "Thanks for getting back to me so quickly, Jenny. I really appreciate it."
He ended the call and looked at all of them, a tiny smile on his face. "It's a match. Same drug that killed the five men." He glanced around the table. "We need to pick up Tiffany tonight and find out where she got those drugs. Who's in?"
Chapter 27
Brendan sat in the observation room, watching Tiffany through the one-way mirror. She'd been sitting in the uncomfortable chair for almost an hour, and hadn't shifted once. Her hands folded on the table, she glanced around occasionally, as if it was the first time she'd seen the inside of an interrogation room.
As if she'd done nothing wrong and was waiting patiently for an explanation of why she'd been arrested.
Mia slid into the seat beside Brendan and handed him a piece of paper. "Crystal Everly," he read from the rap sheet. "Five prior arrests for possession or possession with intent to sell, and one for prostitution when she was sixteen. No convictions."
He raised his eyebrows. "No convictions after six arrests?"
"She had a good lawyer," Mia said, her mouth a hard line. "The prostitution arrest was in her juvie file. Usual horror story of an abusive stepfather and a runaway teen, hooking to survive. She was put in foster care, and apparently it worked. No more arrests.
“Until she was an adult. First possession bust when she was nineteen. That one and all the rest were tossed.” Her mouth thinned. “And you’ll never guess who her attorney was.”
“Henry Bennett.” Brendan raised one eyebrow and waited for Mia to confirm it. The guy with the ATTY 1 license plate must have something going in the twenty-second. One of their cops was his errand boy. Welles, Cilla's would-be rapist, lived in the district. Bennett was Welles's lawyer. Follow the dots.
“Better than that.” Mia swiveled to face him. “Michael Welles.”
“Welles? Are you shitting me?” Brendan jerked his head around to stare at his sister, fury heating his face.
“Not shitting you. Cilla's rapist is Ms. Everly’s lawyer for every one of her possession busts.” Mia shifted to stare down at Tiffany/Crystal in the interrogation room. “Interesting district, the twenty-second.”
Brendan turned to study Tiffany again. What the hell was going on in Beverly? A pair of cops running a drug ring in their own back yard? Their serial rapist turns out to be the attorney for the other dirtbags in the district? The rapist’s lawyer is one of the biggest bigwigs in the city?
Brendan gritted his teeth as Tiffany studied her nails. As if she was waiting for a god-damned manicure. "Have to admit, she's got some cojones," he muttered.
Mia scowled. "She's acting like she knows she's going to walk. Like she knows you can't touch her."
"Then she's going to be disappointed." Brendan slouched in the chair and crossed his arms as he watched their suspect. "Quinn and Connor know what they're doing. And Welles isn’t riding in on his black horse this time."
The door to the interrogation room opened and Brendan's brothers walked in. They sat down at the table, still wearing their 'disguises' from the pub.
"Ms. Everly," Quinn began. "We have the lab results from the capsule you sold to Mr. Quick last night. It's an illegal sex drug that's killed five men and put another into the hospital. Where did you get that drug?"
Tiffany frowned. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Quinn pushed a picture of the capsule across the table to her, along with a picture of her customer, Sam Quick, handing her money in exchange for one. Connor had taken the photo with his phone. "You don't remember this transaction last night?"
Tiffany's gaze lingered on the photo for long seconds. Then she pushed it back across the table. "He needed an allergy pill. I gave him one. That's all."
"You sold it to him, you mean." Quinn tapped the photo of the money changing hands.
The woman shrugged one shoulder. "He wanted to give me money to buy myself another bottle."
“Are you betting that Mr. Quick told us the same story?” Connor asked.
For the first time, unease flashed in Tiffany’s eyes. It was gone in a moment, but she shifted on the uncomfortable chair. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“For starters, because he knows he'd have a hard time explaining his arrest for the purchase of an illegal sex drug to his wife. And he’s nervous about the woman he’d planned to use that drug with. A woman who's not his wife. Who might tell his wife.”
“He said that?” Tiffany frowned. As if she couldn’t believe her customer would turn on her.
“Oh, yes, Ms. Everly. That and so much more. Apparently one of his friends is also a customer of yours. And that customer sang your drug’s praises. And talked about how hot you were.” Quinn smiled. “I’m pretty sure a guy like that would be able to pick you out of a line-up. You being so hot, you know?”
Tiffany chewed some of the bright red lipstick off her lower lip. “I’d like to speak to my lawyer now.”
“Certainly.” Quinn bared his teeth in a smile that made Brendan want to back away. “Give me his or her name and I’ll call their office.”
“Mike Welles.” Tiffany licked her lips. “He’ll come right over.”
Connor shook his head. “Afraid he won’t, Ms. Everly. Mr. Welles is sitting in Cook County Jail as we speak.” He leaned over the table toward her, and Tiffany reared back. “For attempted rape.”
“What?” Tiffany stared at them, her expression morphing from bored tolerance to shock and fear. “He…he raped someone?�
��
“He tried,” Connor said. “So who’s number two on your lawyer list?”
“I…I don’t have another lawyer. I’ve always used Mike.”
“We can call the public defender,” Quinn said.
“No.” Tiffany swallowed and looked from one brother to the other, like she had just noticed them. “I need Mike. And who the hell are you two? Are you like, clones, or something?”
“Or something,” Quinn said. “Welles is unavailable. So what’s it going to be? Public defender? Someone else? Or do you just want to keep talking to us?”
"I…I don’t know.” Tiffany shoved her hand through her shoulder length hair. It made her look as if she’d just gotten out of bed. “Maybe we can work something out."
"What did you have in mind, Ms. Everly?" Connor asked.
Tiffany leaned forward, displaying her cleavage. "I've never done clones before. Might be fun."
Both Quinn and Connor froze. Quinn recovered first. "Are you offering us sexual favors in return for letting you go?" he asked carefully.
She shrugged one shoulder. "You interested?"
"No." Quinn leaned closer. "Attempting to bribe a police officer is a crime, Ms. Everly. We'll add it to our list. And since you're interested in working something out, we'll talk to the DA and try to get you a deal. We’re not after low-level dealers."
Tiffany's eyes flashed at the words ‘low-level’. Brendan smiled.
“We want the supplier of this drug," Connor said. "We want it off the street before it kills more people. So give me his name and we’ll work something out.”
Tiffany was shaking her head even before Connor finished speaking. “No way. I’m not ratting him out. I don’t want to end up on the bottom of Lake Michigan.”
Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s what happens if you cross this guy?”
Tiffany crossed her arms beneath her breasts and looked away. Didn’t speak.
“We can protect you from him,” Connor said quietly. “Put you in a safe house somewhere until we have him in custody.”
She shook her head, a short, jerky motion. “There's no place that's safe from him. He has eyes everywhere.”
Cover Me Page 26
