by Amy Valenti
She was beaten, and she knew it. With a sigh, Laura glared at me and got to her feet. “This better not take long. I have a meeting at two."
While she gathered her jacket and purse, Pierce touched my shoulder, leaning in close to murmur, “Careful. She's playing you."
Before I could process that, he followed Laura outside. A million questions flitting through my mind, I brought up the rear, shooting an apologetic look at the confused waitress hovering nearby.
Exactly who was the girl I'd been seeing for the past few weeks? And what side of her had Pierce seen that I hadn't?
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Pierce
We escorted Laura back to the precinct in near silence, and when we headed into the squad room it wasn't just my team that had its collective eyes on us. Gossip travelled fast, and I was almost certain Santoro was to blame.
I could deal with him later. “Beaumont. Escort Ms Morgan to an interrogation room."
Beaumont rose immediately, nodding to Laura. “Follow me, please."
Faye made as if to follow them, and I spoke her name quietly as she passed, shaking my head. Her brow creased in a frown, and she pulled me aside. “She's my submissive, and I need to talk to her. I'm not gonna help her set a story straight, or fill her in on any case details. If I'd wanted to do that, I could have called her in private or gone back to my desk to email her, or told her before you joined us at the bistro."
It wasn't exactly standard operating procedure, but this was Faye, and I had a weak spot where she was concerned. After a second's hesitation, I stepped away, and she continued after Beaumont and Laura.
"What do you have?” I snapped at Layton and Santoro, who were trying to figure out what was going on.
They gave me a babbled rundown of Leigh's background, which included no mention of Laura. On Laura herself, they'd barely started, and could only tell me that she had no criminal record. When they'd exhausted themselves, I told them to keep going and made my way towards the rear of the building where the interrogation rooms were.
I passed Beaumont on the way, nodding my thanks as she told me which room she'd left Laura in. Instead of going straight to interrogation, I opened the adjacent door, the door to the observation room.
Faye was sitting cross-legged on the desk in the middle of Interrogation One, looking down at Laura, who sat in the suspect's chair. “So, what—you just decided you were a little short on cash? He's dead, Laura!"
"And you think I killed him?! Gee, thanks, Mistress.” Laura's sarcasm was caustic.
"No! If I thought you'd killed him, I'd have walked in here, told you it was over and left again. I just wanna understand... Can't you see that?” Faye was annoyed, confused, a little sad—but she wasn't heartbroken. Laura hadn't dug her claws into Faye's heart yet, and I was relieved, for more reasons than I should have been.
I knew the heart-to-heart wouldn't get us the information we needed, so I cut their relationship talk short, leaving observation just as the audio-visual tech entered and headed into interrogation.
"Need the forensics, Faye."
She and Laura both stood when I walked in and Faye swallowed whatever she'd been planning to say to me, turning to Laura instead. “Talk to you later."
"Yeah.” Though a little reluctant, Laura let herself be drawn into a brief hug, her brunette hair mingling with Faye's amber locks.
I waited until Faye had closed the door to speak, though I wasn't naive enough to think we were alone and unheard. Even if Faye had actually heeded my words about the forensics and gone to her lab, Layton and Santoro wouldn't pass up the opportunity to eavesdrop on me interrogating an ex.
Taking my time, I shrugged off my jacket, hung it on the back of the chair and settled myself into a seat, the one-way window at my back and my case notes in a folder on the desk between us. Laura fidgeted across from me, steepling her fingers, then twisting them together.
"This is an official investigation, and I need to state for the record that anything discussed during this interview will remain pertinent to the case, disregarding any personal history between us. If that's not acceptable, I can get another cop in here to question you on my behalf.” I kept the words formal and clear, to be picked up by the microphone recording everything.
Laura hesitated and I raised an eyebrow at her out of habit—the way I'd always indicated to a submissive that an answer was required. Her gaze turned stormy, but her words were calm. “It's acceptable."
Nodding, I turned my mind to the case. “Did you know a man named Samuel Leigh?"
"I already told you, I've never heard of him,” she said, overly patient.
I took Leigh's picture from my folder and slid it towards her. “How about now?"
Something shifted in her expression and a piece of my own personal puzzle slotted home within my mind. The first time I'd taken Laura to my place, she'd wandered around my living room while I made coffee. I'd returned just as she was reaching out to pick up the picture Faye had handed out to all of us last Christmas. Using her digital know-how, she'd manipulated the image so Faye, me, my team and a couple of others we worked with were all grouped together for the shot.
When Laura had picked it up from my mantelpiece, something in her face had changed. I hadn't known her well enough to interpret it, then, but watching her in the interrogation room, it became clear to me. She'd recognised Faye, just as she recognised Leigh right then—she'd probably seen her around at Rack and Ruin.
I had no idea why she would go after Faye after I'd broken up with her, but that was something I could mull over later.
Faced with Leigh's picture, Laura chose to play dumb. “I don't recognise him."
"We have surveillance footage of you stealing from him,” I reminded her mildly.
"How do you know it was me? Those cameras barely show enough detail to pick out a black cat in the snow."
I turned to the one-way glass and gave the standard signal, then crossed to hit the switch on the side of the TV mounted on the wall. The smoking area footage ran, then froze on the clearest shot of Laura's face as she turned to leave, stolen wallet in hand. “We know it was you."
Her mouth twisted bitterly and she sighed, leaning back in her chair with an air of defeat. There was nothing submissive about her tone when she asked, “What do you want?"
"Where's the wallet now?"
Her voice was flat as she answered my questions.
Yes, she'd taken the wallet. No, she hadn't kept it or spent the money. Had she given it to someone, or stolen the wallet at someone else's behest? No—she'd lost it.
It was right about then I started to lose my cool, but I kept outwardly calm. Had there been anything in the wallet that wasn't cash, credit cards or ID?
No. And no, she hadn't chosen Leigh on purpose—he'd been in the right place at the right time.
I didn't believe a word she said, and she knew it.
"What did you do when you left the club?"
"I went home with your forensic scientist, Zach.” Her tone was a little smug, as if she delighted in rubbing it in my face.
Biting my tongue until the urge to snap at her passed, I clarified, “Faye Tate."
"Yup."
"Stay with her all night?"
"Yup.” She gave me an angelic smile with an edge, as if she knew exactly how much that got to me. “You're welcome to check with her. We didn't even get out of bed until eleven the next morning."
I didn't take the bait, though it was tempting. “Did you know the victim was dead before I told you?"
"Nope. Are you done? Can you just charge me, or whatever it is you do, so I can go?” She drummed her fingernails on the table, feigning boredom.
"Not done yet. Can you think of anyone who would want him dead?"
"No.” She rolled her eyes, belligerence radiating from every pore. “Come on, Zach. What are you expecting here? Petty theft and murder are two totally different leagues."
My cell phone rang, and I glared down
at the display. Faye. “I'll be back,” I tossed over my shoulder as I left the room, and shut the door before she could reply.
"I'm in the middle of something here, Faye..."
"Sorry,” she said automatically. “I wouldn't interrupt, except I know you're probably done with going after Laura for petty theft and you're trying to work out if she killed Leigh. Which she didn't, unless she handed off the murder weapon to someone else once she was done, without leaving a single trace of DNA. Possible, but unlikely."
Sceptical, I asked, “You're telling me you have Laura's DNA profile worked out already, when usually I have to wait overnight?"
A touch of bitterness coloured her tone. “Nope. But I have the DNA profile of her brother, John Collier, who we sent down for multiple counts of sexual assault about six months ago..."
I dimly remembered the case, but the idea that Collier and Laura might be related hadn't occurred to me—for obvious reasons. “They're probably half-siblings related paternally. Laura's surname is Morgan."
"Sorry, Zach—they're fully related, and the mitochondrial DNA isn't a match to the DNA on the knife. Laura took her surname from one Garth Morgan when she married him three years ago."
I went still as I processed that one. “She's married?"
"Yup. And still living with her husband, according to her tax records. Whether or not he knows about it, we've both been dating a married woman."
Typical. The irritated thought didn't make it to my lips—I'd been through similar things before, and with women I'd had longer and more intense relationships with. Faye's revelation might have surprised me, but I didn't feel much more than that. “You okay?"
"I will be.” She hung up without saying goodbye, obviously annoyed. If there was one thing guaranteed to piss Faye off, it was being lied to—even by omission.
Instead of going back into the interrogation room, I opened the door to observation. Inside, Santoro, Layton and Beaumont all turned to face me a little sheepishly, and I stared them down. “How's it going, boss?” Santoro ventured. “Think she did it?"
I told them about Faye's discovery, staring through the glass at Laura when I got to the part about her marital status. I could already imagine the lifted eyebrows and swift exchange of glances—I didn't need to see it, too. “We worked the case that sent her brother down. I wanna know if he was connected to the victim in any way. While you're at it, do the same for Garth Morgan and pick him up. Laura could be covering for him."
They nodded, keeping quiet so as to avoid my ire. As Layton edged toward the door, I added, “Don't let me see you back in this part of the building until you're escorting Morgan.” All three of them shifted uncomfortably, recognising the warning for what it was, and filed from the room at my dismissal.
The audio-visual tech was already gathering his jacket when I turned to him. “If that's all, Detective Pierce, I'll be taking my lunch break now."
"Make it a long one,” I recommended, and he beat a hasty retreat, shutting off the video and audio equipment first.
Alone at last, I contemplated Laura for one moment more, then headed back into the interrogation room. It was time to go off the record.
Faye
When I stepped off the elevator, Santoro, Layton and Beaumont were waiting to get on. I could tell by their faces that Pierce had set tasks for them—far, far away from Interrogation One. “Hey, guys."
"You okay, Faye?” Santoro watched me carefully. Pierce must have told them about Laura's husband.
"Yeah, Santoro. Thanks.” With a small smile, I touched his shoulder, then stepped back to let the elevator doors close. Once the numbers above the door indicated they'd gone all the way to the ground floor, I made for the interrogation room.
There was no tech in observation, and Pierce was just settling down in his seat on the other side of the glass. Laura stood opposite, her hands on her hips. “What more do you want from me, Zach?"
Calmly, Pierce replied, “Let's go off the record now, Mrs Morgan."
Laura's eyes widened—for a moment she seemed frozen, unable to handle the curveball.
"My cops are on assignment, picking up your husband and looking into your brother's history. The guy who handles the technical side on the other side of that mirror is on his lunch break, and your girlfriend's in her forensics lab trying to find evidence to clear you of Leigh's murder."
I briefly considered going back to the lab, but it was only a fleeting thought. I needed to be there for this—though technically, it was none of my business. I knew Pierce wouldn't want me there, but Laura had wronged me, too, and yeah, I knew I needed to confront her myself, but I wanted to know what Pierce said to her.
Okay, okay—I shouldn't be in here. It's eavesdropping. But somehow, I couldn't make myself move.
"I'm not interested in the fact you were married when we were together. And I know Faye will be taking that issue up with you personally once I'm done with you. What I need to know, Laura, is this—Why Faye?"
Laura leant back against the wall, looking down at Pierce as if that made her the more dominant one in the room. “What are you implying?"
Pierce remained motionless, not at all intimidated. “I'm implying that you recognised Faye in the picture in my living room. I'm implying that you knew we work together, and that when I ended things you headed over to Rack and Ruin to get her sympathy with crocodile tears."
Wait, what? I didn't get it. It wasn't like Pierce to make outlandish accusations, but I really couldn't follow his logic this time. If it was true...what was Laura's game?
She laughed a little too loudly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “And why would I do that?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
Her tone was thick with disdain. “Oh, I'm sorry—did I break a law? I don't have a clue where you're going with this, Zach, and I don't care. You ended it, remember? Whom I date is none of your business."
Pierce stood abruptly, his chair almost toppling over as he stalked around the desk to get in Laura's face. “Faye is my business. She's off-limits."
Something about the way he said it—soft and dangerous, with just a hint of an edge—turned me on way more than it should have. I really needed to get a grip on this—just because Pierce knew I was kinky, that didn't mean he'd want to play with me.
"What's she got that I don't, huh?” Laura asked, her eyes narrowing. “I'm pretty. I'm tall. I obeyed your every word—"
"That's not the only virtue of a good submissive. A little resistance makes things interesting, and obedience doesn't necessarily mean you give yourself over completely. You didn't."
This was getting juicy. I was starting to feel a little guilty for listening in, but I'd already heard too much to back out with a clean conscience.
"And you think she would? Trust me—I've played with her a fair amount, and she's as dominant as they come."
I frowned through the mirror, as if that would stop her from putting ideas into Pierce's head. Okay, so I didn't submit to many people, but Zach Pierce...? I'd craved his collar for so long I wouldn't even have to think twice if he approached me.
"This isn't about me wanting Faye for myself. It's about you singling her out because you knew I know her. What were you planning?” You'd have had to know Pierce well to see he was near the end of his tether. It was in the tense way he held himself and the way he was speaking. I could see the signs, and so could Laura. Was it just me, or was she enjoying this?
"Shut up, Zach. You're just sore because I know what she feels like under my hands. I know what turns her on, I know how she looks after an orgasm...and that's eating you up inside."
Pierce became very still, and I had to remind myself to breathe. Had she actually just said that? Was it the truth?
Laura pushed off the wall she was leaning against to give herself some space, walking over to the one-way mirror and reaching up to push a loose strand of hair into place. I didn't recognise the expression on her face. She seemed smug—victorious, even.
I'd obviously never known the real Laura Morgan at all.
Pierce spun to watch her with ice in his eyes, ready to give her hell. Though a huge part of me would have loved to hear what came next, I couldn't let her manipulate him like this. Pulling my cell phone from my pocket, I hit the speed-dial key that would call him.
His phone rang just as he was opening his mouth to speak, and he answered without checking the caller ID, scowling at Laura. “This better be important."
I spoke the words he'd murmured to me back in the bistro. “Careful. She's playing you."
His eyes widened, flitting past Laura to the mirror. Although he couldn't see me, I could have sworn he was looking right at me. “Corridor. Now."
Pierce
Faye's phone call came just in time. Hearing her voice brought a sudden moment of cognition, bringing with it conflicting emotions of dread and relief.
Dread, because I should have known Faye would sneak back into observation, and I was pretty sure she'd overheard Laura's obscene assessment of my attitude. Relief, because she'd interrupted the conversation before I'd actually said anything to confirm the suggestion I was jealous.
Hitting the button to end the call, I strode towards the door without a backwards glance at Laura. The corridor was empty, and I waited a couple of seconds for Faye to emerge before losing patience. I pushed open the door to observation just as she was stretching out an arm to open it, and she jumped, retreating a couple of feet to let me in.
She avoided my eyes for the first few seconds, and when she did meet them, it was my turn to look away. Her hands were clasped before her, the thumb of one hand nervously rubbing the palm of the other. Laura's words lay heavy in the air between us.
You're just sore because I know what she feels like under my hands. I know what turns her on, I know how she looks after an orgasm...and that's eating you up inside.
It was all too true. Even remembering the words brought a torrent of forbidden urges to the forefront of my mind. I wanted to continue to walk towards her, forcing her to step backwards until her back hit the glass partition. I could imagine her tiny gasp as she realised she had nowhere left to go, and I could almost feel the glass against my palms on either side of her as I trapped her between the wall and my body.
