Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold)

by Tee O'Fallon

  Cassie chuckled. “Yeah, Danny. I got a gun.” She patted the handbag slung over her shoulder.

  “You’re really a cop?” Danny grinned. “That’s so hot.”

  Rose pursed her claret-red lips. “I always knew there was more to you than just a pretty face and the best cuisine this side of the Adirondacks, but please don’t tell me you’re about to go back to chasing bad guys. With Leo still recovering, I need you here. And soon I’m going to need you to be head chef at my hoighty-toighty new place outside of town. Did I tell you I finally bought that vacated restaurant property I’ve had my eye on for years? The one I dreamed about making into a stylish high-end eatery?”

  “I can’t stay. Every minute I’m here puts you all in danger, and that’s something I can’t live with.” Rose opened her mouth to object, but Cassie held up her hand. “I’m only here to say good-bye.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Rose said. “You’re actually leaving? Does Mike know?”

  Cassie sighed sadly. “He knows.”

  “Honey.” Sue gave her a sympathetic look. “You have the most gorgeous man in the world who’s so obviously in love with you. You can’t leave.”

  “I have to.” Cassie fought back the unexpected tears. She really would miss her newfound friends.

  “But why?” Rose tilted her head. “I thought you said Mike killed the hit man?”

  “He did, but the guy who ordered the hit will just find another one. Being around me may not be the safest thing.” At least until they figured out who really financed the hit. “I need to get back to the police station before my jailers realize I’m gone.”

  “Maybe when this is all over you can come back,” Chuck said hopefully.

  Cassie smiled. “Maybe someday,” she lied. She didn’t have the stomach to say it was over between her and Mike and that was the real reason she could never consider coming back.

  “Good-bye everyone,” Cassie said as she turned to leave.

  Three hesitant, smiling faces stared back at her.

  “See ya, Cass.” Danny waved, but his young face was somber in a way she’d never seen before. As if he, more than anyone else, understood she was never returning.

  “Bye, Danny.” Cassie shoved down the rising wave of regret. She would forever relish the days she’d spent as head chef at the Nest.

  When Rose began to follow her, she nearly lost it and burst into tears. “Please don’t. I hate long good-byes.” She fully expected Rose to object. When she didn’t, it made it even harder to go.

  With a deep inhale, she left the kitchen and headed to the front door, pausing by the register to admire Joey’s newspaper doodling for the last time. Yesterday’s Gazette had a photo of senatorial candidate Joshua Mosely, now sporting a blue crayon beard.

  God, how she’d miss everyone in town, including Joey and his artistic renditions of everything and everyone that made the front page of the Hopewell Springs Gazette. Sighing, she tucked the newspaper under her arm, taking it with her for nostalgic reasons.

  She walked to the front door and, out of habit, flipped the closed sign to face the street. It reminded her of the one good thing that had come from all of this.

  La Femme had permanently closed its doors.

  As Cassie shut the door behind her, a vivid image flashed before her eyes, one from the night of the takedown at La Femme.

  The bearded man she’d literally slammed into moments before the NYPD raided the bar.

  Her eyes widened. “No! No way.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Mike leaned against the front of his desk. “It’s official.” He handed Gray and Dom a copy of the preliminary ballistics report faxed from the NYPD lab. “Rod Manici, former owner of La Femme, was killed by the same caliber round as in the gun we found hidden in the trunk of Methopolis’ rental car. We can’t say with complete certainty until NYPD ballistics fires the gun and compares casings, but most likely it’s the same weapon.” He nodded to where Dom sat in a chair next to Gray. “Good hunch.”

  Dom grunted in response, eyeing Mike with barely concealed anger. Mike assumed Cassie had told them everything and now Cassie’s partner hated his guts, not that he could blame the guy.

  Mike hadn’t spoken a word to Cassie since he’d left his house earlier that morning. In fact, he was surprised Gray hadn’t kicked his ass yet. He was as large and muscled as Cassie’s brother, but if it came to blows there’d be broken bones on both sides.

  “Unfortunately,” he said, catching Gray’s gaze, “we weren’t so lucky with Methopolis’ cell phone. The state computer forensics lab managed to unlock it and get through the password protection, but all emails, voicemails, and text messages have been erased. No saved contacts.”

  Gray pursed his lips. “No surprise. These guys are good. Too professional to leave anything on their phones.”

  “Is Methopolis connected to the Pyramid?” Mike asked.

  Gray raised his brows. “You’ve heard of them?”

  Mike nodded. “Yes, but it was only a rumor back when I was with the NYPD. The Pyramid was thought to be a shady group of hired assassins.”

  “It’s more than a rumor.” Gray clenched his jaw. “They’re like ghosts. We finally grab one, granted he’s dead, and we’ve still got nothing to go on.”

  The smell from something heating in the break room microwave drifted into his office, reminding Mike that he hadn’t eaten anything all day. Ignoring the rumble in his stomach, he turned back to the men seated before him. “My guys and the State Police are patrolling the town twenty-four-seven. Seems unlikely anyone would be stupid enough to try something, but you never know.”

  “Desperation breeds panic.” Dom’s tone was curt as he shifted in the chair and propped his ankle on his knee. “Whoever contracted Methopolis to kill Cassie may try again. We’re taking her to a safe house as soon as we finish up here.”

  Mike let out an exhausted breath as he pushed from the front of his desk and went around to sit behind it. Cassie wasn’t even gone yet, but the idea of never seeing her again twisted his guts like a pretzel.

  Stay focused, Flannery.

  “We’ve managed to keep the hit man’s ID under wraps,” Mike said, “but we couldn’t stop the Gazette from printing a front-page photo spread of Methopolis being loaded into the meat wagon outside Cassie’s house. People are asking questions, and the press is hounding the station with inquiries.”

  As if on cue, the phone outside Mike’s office began ringing.

  Frustration, worry, and guilt over Cassie were driving him out of his frigging mind. Twice, he’d nearly charged back to his house and told her he couldn’t live without her, that he needed to see her, talk to her, hold her, and keep her safe. But something stopped him. He still hadn’t come to grips with her deception and how it seemed inextricably linked with his past. The need to separate his past from his present—and his future—was tearing him apart.

  Outside his office, the phone continued ringing. He leaned across his desk to catch his dispatcher’s eye. “Answer the phone!” Maddy did as he ordered, staring at him with raised brows. He eased back in his chair. Damn, he was turning into a dick.

  Gray looked up from the ballistics report he’d been scanning, and if Mike didn’t know his old buddy better, he’d say there was censure in his friend’s eyes. Not that he didn’t deserve that, too. Worry over Cassie’s safety, without him there to personally protect her, had him crazed and itching for a fight.

  “Shit.” He pressed his fingers to his aching head. “Where’s Cassie now?”

  “Relax, she’s down the hall in another office writing reports.” Gray paused, narrowing his eyes. “She didn’t want to see you.”

  Not that Mike had given her a reason to want to see him, but hearing the words drove the stake deeper into his heart.

  “You know,” Gray added, “Cassie’s hurting as much as you are. In the last twenty-four hours, she’s gone through one load of shit after another. Someone tried to murder her twice,
then her colleague nearly died in her place. Even her dog came close to dying, then you go and ditch her.”

  “Yeah,” Dom chimed in, contempt evident in his voice. “So how ’bout cutting her a little slack?”

  Mike slammed his fist on his desk, making his empty coffee mug bounce. “Stay out of it, Carew.”

  “The hell I will.” Cassie’s partner rose from the chair, looking like he wanted to rip Mike a new one. “She’s my partner.”

  Gray quickly stood and put a staying hand on Dom’s chest, practically pushing him back into the chair. Cassie’s partner reluctantly sat but continued glaring at him with a look that said he was just as itchy for a fight as Mike was. Cassie was lucky to have such a solid partner, one who wouldn’t hesitate to shed blood for her.

  “Someone will come back for Raven,” Gray said after a moment. “That’s one tough mutt. Did you know Raven is a K-9?”

  “No.” Mike snorted. “I didn’t.” Hell, even her dog was an undercover cop.

  Gray chuckled, but with a serious undertone. “Seems like you know my sister pretty well, but I guarantee you don’t know everything about her.”

  “Damn straight,” Dom growled.

  Shit. Here it comes.

  “Dom,” Gray turned to Cassie’s partner, “how ’bout I meet you and Cassie outside in a few minutes? It’s your turn to cool off the car.”

  “No way.” Dom continued glaring at Mike. “This, I want to hear.”

  Gray stared at Dom for a full five seconds.

  “Fine.” Dom rose and left with such haste a few reports on Mike’s desk fluttered across the surface.

  When Dom had disappeared into the hallway, Gray leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You and I go way back. You can tell me to fuck off when I’m done, but I gotta say my piece on this.” He paused. “Deal?”

  Mike tightened his jaw. “Deal.”

  “Are you planning on talking to Cassie anytime soon?”

  “No.” He had no plans to talk to her ever again. But even as he said it, his gut clenched with misgivings and his resolve to stay away from her began to crumble.

  “You’re a good cop, Mike, the best. But you’re also stubborn, shortsighted, and you gotta stop living in the past.” Gray lowered his voice as two state troopers on loan to Hopewell Springs stomped through the hallway outside Mike’s office. “I heard about the IA investigation. It was never public knowledge in the department, but I know that IA cop lied to you, slept with you, and broke every conduct code the department has.”

  Fresh rage boiled in Mike’s gut. It was all he could do not to kick Gray out of the station house on his ass. But he was a friend, and one thing Mike recalled about Gray Yates was the man had never been a gossip and never said anything without a damn good reason.

  “Did you know she got demoted twice and quit the force?”

  “No.” He really hadn’t known that.

  “Didn’t think so. You left the department pretty abruptly after you got out of the hospital.” Gray settled back in his chair. “I don’t need to tell you how hard it is on a cop being undercover so long.”

  “No, you don’t.” He wasn’t fooled by Gray’s casually deceptive expression. There was purpose behind those silver eyes. He just wished his friend would get to the fucking point.

  “The pressure can be intense,” Gray continued. “We’ve all heard hellacious stories about deep covers who had to hide out for so long their entire lives were ruined. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you it wasn’t her fault this guy found her.”

  “I know that,” Mike agreed. “Probably her picture in the paper after the robbery dimed her out.”

  “Maybe.” Gray’s eyes went flint-hard. “Maybe not.”

  Mike immediately picked up on his friend’s anger. “Something else brewing I should know about?”

  Gray stroked his chin. “We may have a leak in our own house.”

  “No shit.” And no wonder Gray looked so pissed.

  “Yeah. Got a hunch who it is.” For a brief moment, Gray’s expression actually softened, and if Mike didn’t know his friend so well, he’d have to say Gray actually looked sad, resigned. “Anyway,” he continued, “Cassie’s pretty torn up over what happened to Leo. And to you.” He tipped his head to the slight bulge made by the fresh bandage beneath Mike’s uniform shirt.

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.” His tone and his words were unintentionally curt, and he felt like shit.

  “I know that.” Gray nodded. “Cassie’s good at what she does. She’s one of the best undercover officers the department has, but she’s burned out.”

  He stifled a groan. He didn’t need to be reminded Cassie was good at undercover work. He already knew that from personal experience.

  Was I just part of the job, too?

  Gray leaned forward again. “My sister lied about who and what she is, but she’s still the same person.”

  “I don’t know who that person is anymore.” That was true. Wasn’t it?

  “Yes, you do.” Gray nodded. “She’s a woman who doesn’t give her love easily.”

  Makes two of us.

  “Well.” Gray slapped his hands on his thighs and rose from his chair. “Just thought you’d want to know. Dom and I better get Cassie out of here. She’s not happy about going to a safe house. I may have to handcuff her to keep her there.”

  Gray’s comment had him remembering when he’d shoved a spoonful of hot-sauce-spiked chili in her face. He’d almost cuffed and arrested her on the spot. His gut churned at the equally vivid memory of how scared he’d been watching her selflessly trade places with Abby during the robbery. He’d never forget the way she made love to him.

  Or how he’d felt when he thought she was dead.

  Gray folded the ballistics report Mike had given him and shoved it into his pocket. “No matter what you think of her,” he added over his shoulder before leaving, “Cassie’s a woman of principal and the most honest person I know. She would never deliberately hurt or use anyone.”

  Mike watched Gray disappear out the door and listened to his receding footsteps echo in the hall. He dragged both hands down his face, feeling every bit as drained as he knew he looked.

  Comparing Cassie to Elaine had been automatic. They’d both worked him undercover, both told him they loved him, and both lied to him. But with time and distance came clarity. There was more to consider, though it hadn’t seemed obvious twenty-four hours ago. Then, he couldn’t see through the fog of deception and betrayal. Today, the fog was burning thin.

  Elaine had made herself picture perfect for him, going out of her way to be everything he could want in a woman. Not Cassie, she’d done just the opposite. Cassie had resisted him from the beginning. Once she knew he was a cop, she hated him on sight. Hardly an effective M.O. if you want to work someone undercover or use them.

  Everything he’d done had pissed her off. The woman could not have made herself less likeable, less what he would normally find attractive in a woman.

  He’d wanted her anyway.

  Physically, at first, but later it was more than that. She was hard on the outside, yet soft, compassionate, and understanding on the inside. One minute she could make him laugh more than anyone he’d ever met, and the next, twist his insides around her little finger like a strand of gooey cheese.

  Despite both their best efforts, she’d made him fall in love with her. But no matter how hard he tried, the past would always be there.

  But my past isn’t Cassie’s, and Gray was right. None of this is her fault.

  The circumstances of her deception were totally different from what Elaine had done to him. His damn pride and the pain he’d gone through, the guilt he’d lived with every day over the woman who died because he let Elaine get to him… He’d been afraid history was repeating itself and people were getting hurt again because of his weakness, his mistakes. But Cassie wasn’t to blame. Never had been. Her only mistake was loving him.

  Sh
e did love him, for real. No deceptions. He realized that now.

  I really fucked up.

  Mike wanted to yell at someone or hit something. With no willing victim nearby, he grabbed the empty coffee mug on his desk and heaved it against the wall. It shattered with a resonating crack, denting the Sheetrock and sending shards flying in every direction.

  “Mike!” Gray charged back into his office, a look of pure terror on his face.

  Mike’s heart stopped.

  “Dom and I searched every office in the station and the entire parking lot. Cassie’s gone.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “It can’t be,” Cassie whispered as she pulled the newspaper from where she’d tucked it under her arm.

  But it was.

  Joshua Mosely’s face with a blue crayon beard stared back at her—the same bearded face that etched itself into her memory that night at La Femme.

  U.S. senatorial candidate Joshua Mosely.

  Her jaw dropped. “Oh. My. God.”

  Was it possible Joshua Mosely was a customer at La Femme? What the press and Mosely’s political opponents wouldn’t do to get hold of a story like this.

  Another memory fell into place.

  Mosely had been at La Femme six months prior to the raid, she was sure of it. She’d remembered him even then. Both times he’d stayed only ten or fifteen minutes, too short a time to have paid for any of the girls, but both times he’d definitely been in the back rooms. And he’d made Rod Manici nervous as hell.

  Another farfetched possibility clicked.

  Was he checking out La Femme? The way the owner of a company might walk in unannounced to make sure his establishment was being run properly.

  Dom had said Manici wasn’t the real owner.

  Is Mosely?

  Did Mosely hire Methopolis to kill her?

  Cassie paused on the sidewalk outside the Nest, staring again at the newspaper, still not sure of her theory. It was too preposterous. An unbelievable conspiracy.

  To all outward appearances, Mosely had a lucrative construction business. But what if he supplemented it with undeclared cash proceeds squirreled away in a discreet bank account in the Cayman Islands?