Internal Affairs

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Internal Affairs Page 14

by Alana Matthews


  “And if this goes wrong? What then?”

  “I don’t see why it should. All I have to do is play to Oliver’s weakness—which is me.”

  “I don’t like this, Lisa. You know I don’t like it.”

  “You’ve made that abundantly clear. But how do we have any kind of relationship if you’re doing time in jail? How will you ever get to know your daughter if the only way you see her is through a set of bars?”

  The words had gone by so quickly that Rafe thought he must have misunderstood her. When he ran them through his head again, his heart momentarily seized up and he got a lump in his throat.

  “My daughter?” He swallowed. “What are you telling me?”

  “I wanted you to know three years ago, Rafe. I should have told you then, just as I should have told you the moment you walked into my living room and saw her. But I’ve been so afraid about how you’d react that I kept looking for excuses not to.” She paused, moving in close to him. “But I can’t keep it from you anymore, Rafe. Chloe isn’t Oliver’s child. She’s yours. Every drop of blood she carries comes from you and me.”

  Rafe just sat there, staring at her, thinking he surely must have fallen asleep in Chloe’s room and was dreaming this entire conversation.

  But then he thought of that connection he had with the girl. That feeling of oneness whenever he interacted with her. And he knew this was real. That Lisa spoke the truth.

  “Oh, my God,” he said. “Oh, my God.”

  Rafe had never been one for tears—men raised in cop families would rather shoot themselves than ever shed one—but he felt his eyes growing wet. Couldn’t have stopped it if he wanted to.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Lisa said. “Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Forgive you? There’s nothing to forgive. This is the most wonderful news I’ve ever heard.”

  Then he pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

  He was a father.

  Better still, he was Chloe’s father.

  But before he could revel in this notion, a horn honked outside and Lisa said, “I have to go. That’ll be Kate and her team. It’s time to do this.”

  Then she kissed him again, pulled herself free and headed for the door.

  * * *

  BY THE TIME Rafe reached the porch, Lisa was climbing through the sliding door of a telephone company van.

  “Wait a minute,” he called out. “Hold on.”

  She turned in the doorway. “You’re not going to stop me, Rafe. I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Fine,” he said as he crossed the lawn toward her. “I get that. But if you think you’re going to do this without me, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  Now Kate stuck her head out of the van. “Haven’t you already gotten yourself in enough trouble? Stay home, little brother.”

  Rafe looked inside the vehicle and saw one of his cousins at the wheel, a St. Louis police officer named Billy Franco. In back with Kate was Mike Cuddy, a family friend and a freelance audio surveillance technician unconnected to the Sheriff’s department.

  In other words, neither of them were part of Kate’s usual crew.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked. “Where’s your partner? This doesn’t look like a sanctioned operation.”

  “Don’t you worry about that,” she said.

  “You haven’t even passed this by the brass, have you? And you know Eberhart would blow the whistle if you tried to bring him in on it.”

  “I don’t have time to deal with protocol. They always tie us up with endless planning and I just got word from one of my informants that Sloan may be gearing up to leave town on a business deal. I don’t want to lose momentum.”

  “Or take a chance that Lisa will change her mind?”

  “I’m not changing anything,” Lisa said.

  “Well, you’re not doing this without me, either,” Rafe told her, then looked pointedly at Kate. “Either you let me come along or I blow the whole operation.”

  Kate studied him with a scowl as if he were the pesky little brother threatening to tell their parents what she was up to. Then she said, “Well, then, don’t just stand there, you little twerp. Get inside.”

  A moment later, they were on their way.

  * * *

  AS BILLY DROVE THEM through the city streets, Mike had Lisa remove her sweater and began wiring up her bra. A tiny microphone was attached to the fabric between her cleavage, with a lead running to a compact wireless transmitter taped to the small of her back.

  When she put the sweater back on, it was impossible to tell she was wired at all. As long as Sloan kept his hands to himself, she would be safe.

  But then there was no guarantee of that, was there?

  “Okay,” Kate told her. “These are the rules.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “First of all, you have to relax when you’re with him. If he senses you’re wearing a wire, if you offer him any kind of tell, you could find yourself in a very dangerous situation.”

  “Which is exactly what I’m afraid of,” Rafe said.

  Kate scowled again. “We’ve heard enough from you, buddy boy. You’re either along for the ride or you get out now. Your choice.”

  She was once again pulling the big sister card, and under different circumstances Rafe may well have told her where to stuff it. But he said nothing.

  She returned her attention to Lisa. “Now, when it comes to coaxing information out of this guy, you have to remember that he’s been around the block a few times and won’t be easily fooled.”

  “I was married to him, remember? I think I can handle him.”

  “Let’s hope so, because we don’t have time for me to instruct you in the finer art of extracting a confession. The thing you’ve got going for you is that the guy is apparently nuts about you.”

  “Or just plain nuts,” Rafe said.

  Kate ignored him and continued addressing Lisa. “When you called him, did you say what I told you to?”

  Lisa nodded. “I told him that I thought things had gotten a little out of control and I wanted to talk. No promises. No enticements.”

  “Good. Because he’d probably be suspicious otherwise. Especially after a year of making it clear that you want nothing to do with him.”

  “I don’t think he’s suspicious at all,” Lisa said. “I think this has led exactly where he wanted it to. My needing something from him. And a chance to put us in the same room without my threatening to call the police.”

  “Let’s hope you’re right,” Kate said, then turned to Mike and gestured to Lisa’s chest. “What’s the range on this thing?”

  “We should be able to get a clear signal up to a block or so away.”

  She turned again to Lisa. “Okay. We can’t very well drop you off in front of your house, so we’re going to drive to a cabstand and let you ride the last mile home. But don’t worry, we’ll be parked about a half block south of your place, and we can hear every word you and Sloan say.”

  “And what if things go wrong?” Rafe said. “What’s the emergency phrase?”

  Lisa looked confused. “Emergency phrase?”

  “A phrase that lets us know when it’s time to move in,” Kate said. “When you feel as if your life is in danger. Something that’s unlikely to come up in normal conversation.”

  They all thought about this for a moment, then Rafe said, “How about pink and blue kitty cats?”

  “Not one I would have chosen,” Kate told him, “but it works as well as any.” She looked at Lisa. “So that’s the phrase. Pink and blue kitty cats. You think you can remember it?”

  Lisa smiled and threw a glance at Rafe.

  “I’m sure I’ll manage,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When the cab dropped her off in front of the house, Lisa felt her knees shaking. She’d have to get that under control if she was going to make this work.

  What she hadn’t bothered to tell either K
ate or Rafe, was that Oliver had always been a keen observer of human behavior, which was part of the reason he was so successful in business.

  And Kate had been right. If he sensed even the slightest hesitation in Lisa’s manner, she was done for. The choking incident from the other day was only a preview of coming attractions.

  The one thing Lisa had on her side, however, was Oliver’s ego. He was the type of guy with the kind of money that attracted women far and wide. And he was just vain enough to believe that it was him they wanted, and not the lifestyle he promised them.

  The irony was that Lisa had never been much interested in that lifestyle. Money only served a purpose—putting food in her daughter’s stomach and giving them shelter. Anything other than that was superfluous nonsense that held no real meaning for her.

  It was Oliver’s initial kindness that had attracted her to him, and the promise that he would take care of her and Chloe when they most needed taking care of. And on some level, it saddened her that things had gone sour.

  But that sadness paled compared to the feeling of revulsion she now felt whenever she thought of him. She just hoped she’d be able to use that giant ego against him and get him to confess to his crimes.

  When she got inside the house, she immediately turned on the lights in the living room, then went upstairs for a moment to get something she needed.

  By the time she came back down, she heard a car pull into the driveway. She had asked Oliver to come alone and hoped he had followed her wishes.

  When she peeked out the window, she saw him emerge from behind the wheel of his Lexus and head for the front door.

  A moment later, the bell chimed, and Lisa took a deep breath, tried to steady her knees...then went to the door to greet him.

  * * *

  “HEY, BABE,” Sloan said. “I was starting to wonder if this day would ever come.”

  His voice came in crystal clear over the wire. Whatever microphone and transmitter Mike had used, it had to be top of the line.

  Rafe sat next to Kate inside the cramped van, listening carefully through a pair of headphones. He’d gotten a knot in his stomach the moment Sloan rang the front doorbell, and he didn’t figure it would go away until this whole thing was over.

  He had checked and rechecked his spare weapon to make sure it was loaded. Had done it so many times that Kate had finally put a hand on his wrist and told him to “Chill out, little brother.”

  “You’re looking as hot as ever,” Sloan said. “The way you’re wearing that sweater, I’d almost think you’re glad to see me. So are you gonna invite me in or what?”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t forced your way in.”

  She was playing it smart. Showing him that she was still upset. Anything else would seem false and give him reason to be suspicious.

  “Hey,” he said. “I was a little loaded, okay? I had something to celebrate, so I was celebrating.”

  * * *

  LISA NOTICED the twinkle in Oliver’s eye and knew exactly what he was talking about.

  “Let me guess,” she said. “You were celebrating your little victory at the Westland National Bank.”

  Oliver smiled. “Looks like somebody took a field trip. Guess you didn’t find what you were looking for, did you?”

  “You know I didn’t,” Lisa said. “But I’m not going to stand here and cry about it. You might as well come in.”

  She opened the door wide and let him pass. He brushed a shoulder against her breasts as he did, a tiny smirk on his lips.

  And here we go, she thought, figuring Rafe and the others must have heard the scrape on the microphone and gone into a panic.

  She quickly said, “Have a seat. Do you want a drink?”

  Sloan smiled and crossed to the sofa. “When’s the last time you ever saw me turn down anything you had to offer? Like I told you the other night, babe. You pretty much drive me crazy.”

  “I take it that means yes?” She moved to the wet bar in the corner.

  “Vodka rocks. Same as always.”

  She put some ice in a glass, poured the liquid in, then turned and carried it to him. He was already sprawled out on the sofa, the king making himself at home in his castle.

  The way he had his legs splayed she could clearly see the bulge in his pants. This was, she knew, a deliberate show, as if to say to her, Look what you’ve been missing.

  Lisa stifled an involuntary urge to vomit all over him and handed him the drink.

  He took a sip, then looked up at her. “You gonna stand there all night showing off that glorious rack, or tell me why I’m here? Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t already know,” she said. “You seem to know everything else.”

  He grinned. “I do my best. But I’ve gotta say I was a little bowled over when my attorney told me about your cop friend.”

  “Oh? And what did she tell you?”

  “She showed me pictures of the two of you in college. Quite the pretty little couple you were.” He took a sip. “We sat there and did the math. Figured out when school ended, when you two parted ways—and the next thing I know, I realize I’m looking at a picture of Chloe’s father.”

  She wondered what Rafe was thinking right now. She was relieved he had taken the news so well, but figured he might not be too happy with the subtle sneer in Oliver’s tone.

  “And that disturbs you?” she asked. She didn’t really care one way or another, but she wanted him to feel relaxed. As if he could share anything with her.

  Oliver shrugged. “I honestly don’t give a rat’s behind who knocked you up. But when he shows up in your life again and winds up storming into my hotel room all hot and bothered over something he thinks I did to you, I might have an issue or two about that.”

  “What kind of an issue?”

  “Maybe I don’t like the guy moving in on my woman.”

  Lisa shook her head. “You don’t own me, Oliver. We’re divorced, remember?”

  “Only because you forced it on me. I figure I show a little kindness to a pregnant girl in need, give her a home, some clothes, welcome her kid into the world—”

  “You didn’t even come to the hospital.”

  “What can I say? I was busy. The point is, I do own you, Lisa. I own you just like I own that car out in the driveway, and all the people who work for me. Just like I own that cop boyfriend of yours, now that he’s seen how the law really works.”

  Lisa laughed. “Don’t you realize how pitiful that is?”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  “Think about it, Oliver. You say you own me, but in order to get me to pay any attention to you, you have to frame an innocent man. Yet the one thing you can’t control is how I feel.”

  Oliver shrugged. “Feelings are overrated.”

  “So what is it you want from me? Is it the body?” She laughed. “You could walk into a nightclub, waggle your finger and half the women in St. Louis would come running. And most of them are better built than me.”

  “It isn’t the body,” Sloan said, “It’s the way you use it. But even if they could give you competition in that department, they still wouldn’t be you, would they now?”

  “What’s so special about me?”

  Sloan chuckled, took another sip of his drink. “To be perfectly honest, babe, I have no idea. There’s just something about you that turns me on. Always has, always will. And I figure if I can’t have you, nobody else can, either.”

  “So is that why you framed Rafe Franco?”

  A slow grin. “That’s the second time you’ve said that, and I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t just throw that data chip into my safety deposit box without looking at it first, Oliver. I saw what was on it. I saw names. And one of them was Azarov. The same guy Rafe is accused of killing.”

  “Well, isn’t that a coincidence.”

  “No,” Lisa said, “I don’t think it is.”

  Oliver
stared at her for a long moment, then knocked back the last of his vodka and held out the glass. “Hit me again, will you?”

  Oh, I’d like to hit you all right, she thought, her frustration mounting.

  Was she ever going to get him to admit to anything, or was she wasting her time?

  She took his glass, then crossed back to the wet bar and poured more liquid over the ice.

  “You know,” he said, “I’ve gotta thank you for taking that stuff off my computer. I thought I was some kind of Mr. Wizard, keeping that folder hidden, but I figured if my own wife could find it, maybe the cops could, too. Which is why I decided to wipe my hard drive, just in case you got chatty.”

  “I could have gotten chatty a long time ago,” she told him. “But I didn’t, did I? All I wanted was for you to leave me and Chloe alone.”

  “And all I’ve ever wanted is you, in this house, on your knees, in my bed, doing what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it, without complaint. So I guess we’ve got a bit of a problem, don’t we?” He gestured. “You gonna bring me that drink or what?”

  She crossed to the sofa, handed it to him. He tipped it back, drinking half of it down.

  “What if I told you you could have that?” she said. “Me at your beck and call.”

  He stopped, gulped. Looked at her. “Is this some kind of trick?”

  “No tricks, Oliver. A straight-up proposition. A business deal, if you will.”

  He furrowed his brow. “Business deal, huh? Are we finally getting to the meat of the matter? Is that why you invited me here?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  She got down on her knees in front of him, framed by those splayed legs, then leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth.

  * * *

  THEY HEARD THE RUSTLE of fabric accompanied by nothing but silence and Rafe knew she had to be kissing him.

  What else could it be?

  He and Kate exchanged glances as he racked and reracked the gun in his hand, wanting desperately to use it.

  “What the heck is she doing?” he said to Kate.

 

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