by Jaci Burton
Dante glanced over at her. "What?"
"I'm not supposed to be working. I can't call anyone. This sucks." She folded her arms.
"I'll make the calls. You can go into the precinct with me and work the other cases."
Dante knew Anna wasn't happy. But he only had so much power and influence, and in her precinct he had none.
Losing her father had taken its toll on her. He'd watched her cry, mope and lose the spark that made her who she was. The one thing he agreed with--she needed to get back to work, and he'd slide around Pohanski's edict to help her.
She'd gone into Pohanski's office when they'd returned to the precinct, had come out with a look on her face like she'd eaten something really bad.
He was at the desk next to hers.
"That bad?"
"He gave me bullshit cases, some open homicides to follow up on. Nothing new."
He slid his chair over. "Isn't that a good thing?"
She curled her lip. "In what way?"
"It'll give you some free time to work this one with me."
She shrugged. "I guess."
"Shake it off, Pallino. You're stuck with this until your captain decides otherwise."
"Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"You can 'not like it' while we're talking about Robinson."
"Fine."
Dante swiveled in his chair and looked toward Pohanski's office. Door was closed and so were his blinds. Great. He turned back to Anna.
"Robinson had definite fear or something to hide."
She leaned forward, shaking off her irritation. "I agree. My take on this is he was probably involved with selling drugs to Maclin, or getting Maclin to be part of his drug-selling network."
"And a prominent surgeon who once sold drugs? That'll ruin him."
Anna nodded. "Which means if he thinks we could possibly backtrack the Maclin case to him, or if he suspects any of us saw him with Maclin in the alley that night, he'd have a good reason for wanting to get rid of all of us."
Dante loved seeing the sparkle in Anna's eyes, the first light he'd seen in them since her dad was killed.
If Robinson was the killer, it would be hard for Dante to keep his hands off the bastard. But he also believed in justice and the law, something he hadn't believed in as a kid, which was why Maclin died in the alley that night.
He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. This time he'd let the law take care of him.
Dante's phone rang. He took the call, asked a few questions and wrote down the information, then hung up.
"Well, shit."
"What?" Anna asked.
"Hospital administrator confirms that Robinson was working on the nights the murders were committed."
"That's disappointing."
Dante shrugged. "So he has an alibi. Doesn't mean he didn't commit the murders."
She leaned back in her chair. "You think he hired them out?"
"It wouldn't surprise me. Pretty boy like that with his magic surgery hands. Wouldn't want to mess them up beating the hell out of someone."
She nodded. "You're right. He could have contracted someone to do the killings. It's a long shot, but we'll keep him on the list for now."
"Keep who on the list for now?" Roman asked as he walked in. "And nice to see you back at work, Anna."
"Thanks. It feels good to be back."
She filled Roman in on their interview with Crey Robinson and what they found out.
Roman slid into his chair and leaned back. "That's an interesting theory. Good one, though. There are a lot of cons out there who would do just about anything for money."
"But our killer is neat and tidy," Anna reminded them. "Cleans up the crime scene, leaves no evidence of himself and has access to drugs to disable the victims so he can take them to the alley."
"Which means he isn't your typical off-the-street thug," Dante said. "I guess that would make sense, though. Robinson doesn't strike me as the type who would know your average street punk."
"That could work to our advantage," Anna said. "Someone more sophisticated than your average batterer is our target. That should narrow our search."
Anna swiveled in her chair to face Roman. "What did you find out about the morphine angle?"
"Several dealers have been busted recently for selling it. None of them are talking about who they sold to. You start giving up your clients, you lose business when you get back out on the street. I've got some leads on some dealers on the street I'm going to talk to next."
"Got names on the recent busts? Maybe I can get somewhere with them."
He punched up a list in his computer and hit the print button. "You're welcome to give it a try. I got nowhere with them."
"She thinks if she flirts with them she'll get somewhere," Dante said.
Roman laughed. "Give it your best shot, honey."
Anna grabbed the list off the printer and her keys. "Watch me work my magic. It's amazing how distracting breasts can be during an interview."
"So you're intending to flash them?" Dante asked.
"If you are, I'm coming along to watch," Roman added.
Anna shook her head as she came back to her desk to make a call. "You're both morons. No testosterone invited."
"In that case, I'm going to talk to Gabe," Dante said. He stood and grabbed his keys.
She lifted her head. "About what?"
"I want to know more about Robinson and the drug trade. I think Gabe can give me some insight."
"Okay."
He brushed her fingers with his. "You be careful and keep your shirt buttoned."
She laughed. "Will do my best."
Twenty-One
"I want you to tell me about the mob and the drug network you have going."
Gabe paused with the bottle of beer halfway lifted to his lips. He put it down on his kitchen counter. "You don't waste time, do you?"
Dante shrugged. "No time to waste, man. You know what we're up against. This is all connected somehow."
Gabe finally took a long swallow. "Yeah? How?"
"We interviewed Dr. Crey Robinson and think he was dealing drugs to Tony Maclin when Maclin was in high school and Robinson was a medical student."
Gabe hated this shit, hated that it involved kids. But that's where the money was, wasn't it? And you followed the money trail if you wanted to be in big business like Bertucci. "What do you want to know?"
"How big is this network? What's the organization?"
"The mob provides the product and recruits the sellers. The sellers go out and find the buyers, who in turn provide the money by buying the product."
"And who are the buyers?"
Gabe shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, as though he didn't give a shit. "Anyone and everyone. You know how it is. Rich people, poor people, young and old."
Dante nodded, his expression benign. He wasn't making judgments. "Let's keep it with the young for now. Who's tracking the high schoolers? You have a network of sellers in charge of getting the product to these kids?"
"Yes. There's a hierarchy. Bertucci's family took over that market about forty years ago. They have a stranglehold in the city and county. No one steps on his territory and gets away with it."
Dante took a drink and nodded. "I can imagine. The family's pretty powerful."
"They are."
"And how did you get wrapped up in all this?"
Now it was Gabe's turn to take a long pull of his beer, give himself time to come up with a suitable answer. "Just lucky, I guess."
"Is this really what you want to be doing with your life, Gabe?"
The truth this time. "I told you, I'm doing exactly what I always wanted to do."
Dante sighed, and Gabe felt his disappointment. He wished he could tell him the truth about what he was really doing, but he couldn't. That's how the game was played, and how he lived his life. Someday maybe he'd be able to tell his friends he was one of the good guys.
Then again, maybe not. And sometimes the people y
ou cared the most about had to believe you were the scum of the earth. If that's how his job got done, that's what he'd live with.
"So a kid like Maclin back then... If he was buying drugs from Robinson, a college student..."
"Robinson would have worked for one of Bertucci's guys, a top-tier distributor who kept an eye on all the sellers. The distributors are given product and funnel it down, and the sellers get out there and push it to the kids. Then when they're out of product, which is usually in a hurry because these kids are greedy, they turn in their money, get their cut and get more product."
"Lucrative business?"
Sadly, yes. "Like you wouldn't believe. People like their drugs."
Dante slid him a sidelong glance. "How about you?"
"Me?" Gabe laughed. "I don't touch the shit. It's for business only, not pleasure. I've seen how whacked out people get on that stuff."
"Yeah. I've seen plenty of it, too. At least I don't have to worry about you OD'ing on me."
"No, you don't have to worry about that."
"I do worry about you staying alive, though."
Gabe took a swallow of beer. "You know what, Dante? I worry about that, too. Every goddamn day."
They both went silent then, and Gabe was glad for that. He needed to think about what he'd said, if there was anything he'd given away. He already gave away too much to his friends, and it threatened his job. But what could he do about that? Walk away from Anna? From Dante? No matter what his job, he still had his friends, and there were some people he'd never turn his back on.
He walked a fucking tightrope every day. And it was getting harder to remember what side he was on.
"Is there any way you could find out if Robinson was part of the network?"
Gabe figured that question was coming and shrugged. "I could try. It was a while back, though. There might not be a record of him, but I'll ask around. Sometimes they like to keep track of their old dealers, just in case they need favors."
"I guess that could come in handy."
"You never know. Drug dealer one day, politician the next. Blackmail is a handy thing in this business. And with Robinson having been a medical student...? They might have wanted to keep tabs on him in case they needed him later on."
"For impromptu bullet removal?"
Gabe quirked a half smile. "Something like that."
"I guess your job is never boring, is it, Gabe?"
He lifted his bottle to his lips. "Nope."
Dante called Anna after he left Gabe's condo late that night, figuring she'd still be working. Surprisingly, she said she was at home.
Maybe that was Rusty's influence. She couldn't abandon the dog all day long. Having someone other than herself to take care of might mean she had to take care of herself, too.
He walked in the front door and found her--and Rusty--curled up on the sofa watching a movie. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore a tank top and very short cotton shorts. He tightened as he remembered the lack of intimacy between them the past couple weeks. The smile she gave him was encouraging.
He grabbed a soda, kicked off his shoes and climbed in next to her and Rusty.
"I made popcorn," she said, handing him the bowl.
He took a handful and focused his attention on the TV. "What are you watching?"
"Die Hard."
He turned to face her. "And here I expected to find you weeping over some chick flick, your tear-filled face buried in Rusty's fur."
She gave him a horrified look. "Do you not know me at all?"
He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose, then shoveled more popcorn into his mouth. "This is why you're perfect for me."
"Hmm," she said, then laid her head on his shoulder. "Maybe you want to watch a chick movie. Something weepy with a tragic ending, maybe?"
"Gag. I can go back to my own place, you know."
She moved the bowl to the table and climbed onto his lap, facing him. Rusty jumped to the floor, clearly annoyed by the two of them moving around on the sofa. "No, you can't go back to your own place."
He placed his hands on her hips, definitely more interested in her sitting on him than in any movie. "I'd rather be right here with you."
"You're just saying that because we haven't had sex in a while."
"You noticed. Finally." He lifted her tank top and slid his hands under. The softness of her skin and the heat of her turned his dick from semi to rock hard in the span of two-point-two seconds.
"Now you sound like a man who's been married for a long time."
He laughed and lifted her top off, sweeping his hands over the swell of her breasts. "And now you sound bitchy and wifey."
She arched a brow and pulled his shirt off, then raked her nails down his chest. "You're an asshole."
He unhooked her bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor. "I love when you whisper sweet words to me. Gets me all hot and hard."
She rocked against him, making him hiss.
"Why, yes...yes, it does." She slid back on his legs and palmed his erection. "What are you going to do about that, Dante?"
He wrapped his hands around her butt and stood, marched them into the bedroom and threw her on the bed, being none too gentle about it.
She'd riled him up and he was long on passion and short on patience now.
He pulled her shorts down, then her panties, stood over her while he shed his clothes, anxious to remove any barriers between them. He was in a hurry, but not so much of one that he couldn't take a few seconds to stare down at her as she sprawled on top of the covers. Her body was beautiful, curved and lush, and he spotted several areas he wanted to take a long, slow journey across with his tongue.
God, the things her naked body did to his nervous system. She made him breathe faster, made his heart pound. He'd already started to sweat. And he was hard, tight and straining.
He sucked in a breath and leaned over her, mapping her hip with his tongue and moving along her rib cage, each harsh breath she took like a song to him. He moved up her body with his tongue, raked it across her neck and drew back to look at her, at the heat in her eyes that matched the inferno burning inside him.
He bent, kissed her, loving the taste of her, buttery and salty like popcorn as he slid his tongue between her lips and sucked. He was already out of control. This wasn't going to be slow and easy.
Anna wrapped her legs around him, her frenzy equaling his.
He didn't want to be gentle, not when he'd gone so long without her, and she gave him permission not to be. She scratched his arms, dug her heels into him, moaned against his lips and pressed her body against his, all clear signals that she was ready.
But he wanted her more than ready. With a gentle push, he moved her to the side and swept his hand over her sex. She was hot silk, tight and quivering as he tucked two fingers inside her and began to move. And the way she looked at him--there was no more fear or hesitation on her face. She was with him the whole way now as he brought her to the peak over and over again, held her there and then watched her fall.
There was nothing more beautiful or more arousing than watching his woman come, knowing he took her there, that she trusted him enough to let go like this. And when she opened her eyes and he saw such naked desire in them, he knew he'd reached the point of no return. He rolled over and took her mouth, kissing her as he slid inside her with one deep thrust.
She murmured his name on a gasp, and it made his balls tighten when she wrapped her legs around him, when she lifted against him to draw him in deeper. He buried his face in her neck and listened to her sighs, every breath as he ground against her and brought her with him again to the very edge.
He lifted his head and met her gaze, linked his fingers with hers, and this time when she cried out, he shuddered, going with her, letting her know he'd never let her fall without him.
After, he held her, both of them much more relaxed as they stroked each other's bodies.
This intimacy thing, even when they yelled at each other, wa
s becoming scarily comfortable. Dante didn't know what was going to happen after the killer was found and he had to leave town.
"You're quiet," she said, her voice low and unsure.
"Was just thinking."
"About?"
"What happens when this case is over?"
"I guess you leave."
She made it sound so matter-of-fact, as though she didn't care. He knew she did, that she was as unsure as he was. But that was Anna. She wouldn't cling. And he wouldn't ask to stay. Which left them, essentially, nowhere.
"I guess I do."
His phone rang. They both sat up and looked at the clock. It was after midnight. Never a good thing when the phone rang that late.
"Yeah."
He listened, looked at Anna.
She already knew.
"Be right there."
He closed the phone, climbed out of bed to grab his pants.
"Tell me," she said, already out of bed and reaching for clothes.
"Roman was doing a drive-by in the alley to check security. Someone killed the uniform on patrol there, then attacked Roman and stabbed him."
She was eerily calm, on her knees listening as he spoke. "Is he dead?"
"No. He's alive. He managed to fight off the killer. They're taking him to the hospital. And he's conscious."
Roman survived. It was the first solid lead they had. Maybe they could identify the killer now. He grabbed his shoes and slid them on.
"Okay. He's alive."
He stood and turned to her. She still hadn't moved. He tipped his finger under her chin. "Yes, Anna, he made it."
She nodded and he saw the tears she refused to shed. "You're right, he did. Let's go to the hospital."
Anna was worried sick about Roman, but he didn't look too bad for being attacked. He had a stab wound in the right shoulder, had fought off the killer's attempt to carve and beat him. The suspect hadn't gotten around to getting the job done. He'd gotten punched a few times in the face and upper body, and he'd been kicked.
Roman had found an officer down, called it in, and he'd been attacked from behind, blindsided by the suspect who'd gotten him with the knife before he'd known what hit him. But Roman was strong and he'd fended off the attacker long enough for the black-and-whites to show up.
He was alive. It was all that mattered. She was so happy to see him alive when they got to the hospital she wanted to put her arms around him and not let go, but he was too banged up for that. As it was, she sat by his side and held his hand, at least until it was time to take his statement.
