Disorderly Conduct (The Anna Albertini Files Book 1)

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “More than anything in the world.” I smiled.

  Thelma settled back on the sofa. “I won’t take him if you’re interested.”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I’ve caught my limit on men lately.” Not that I’d really caught either Aiden or Nick, but the last thing I needed was a detective in my personal business. “Grant Pierce is all yours.”

  “Oh, goody.” Thelma bounced on the cushions, sending her earrings clanking. “Now, tell us what’s going on next door.”

  Georgiana returned and handed over a muffin and milk, and it took me several minutes to chew in absolute heavenly bliss before I answered. “We have a warrant to search Melvin’s place because of the pot exchange I saw between Randy and Cheryl the other day.” Then I took another big bite of warm, gooey chocolate muffin.

  “It is so sad about Randy,” Thelma said, her eyes clouding.

  I finished my muffin. “I agree. Hey, did either of you ever see Randy with anybody else besides her?”

  “Nope,” Thelma said.

  Georgiana sat. “Not really. The only visitor I’ve ever seen is one of those hot biker guys like you see on television, and he was there to see Melvin and not the kid.”

  Bits of muffin caught in my throat, and I coughed, reaching to down the milk in one gulp. I wiped off my lips. “Biker guy? Like a Lorde’s member?”

  “Lord? No crowns or anything like that. His leather jacket had a shield with a bleeding lion on it,” Thelma said.

  Holy crap. It was the Lordes. There were a lot of Lordes members, probably. That didn’t mean anything. Yet, I had to ask. “Tell me about this guy. Is there any chance he had black hair that’s a little too long but is still sexy, a big torso, and is tough-guy handsome?” I could barely breathe.

  “Yes, and he had the most spectacular blue eyes,” Thelma said, her voice dreamy. “So blue it’s hard to describe. Have you ever seen anybody like that?”

  “Yeah,” I said slowly.

  Thelma nodded. “I heard Melvin say goodbye, and he called the guy ‘Devlin.” Isn’t that the best name ever?

  Not at the moment. Aiden knew Melvin. It was time to confront my old friend—after we served the warrant on Cheryl’s home.

  Chapter 21

  After leaving Thelma and Georgina’s, I glanced at the navigation directions on my phone to find Cheryl’s place. Or what had been Cheryl’s place.

  How could the young blonde be dead?

  I took a left turn toward the bad side of town when my phone buzzed with a video call. Pulling the car over into a deserted parking lot that no longer held a building, I accepted the call. “Hello?”

  “Hey.” Lacey O’Shea’s pretty face came into view. She was still blonde with freckles and deep topaz eyes, which were dark with concern, and she was in her cop uniform, looking tough. “Today is suck it day, and I thought I’d check in.”

  We always called each other on this day, considering it had shaped both of us. “I kissed Aiden Devlin,” I blurted out.

  Her chin dropped and her eyes widened. “What? Whoa. How? I mean, when? Well?”

  I laughed. “Yes, to all of that. He’s in town, he’s in trouble, I may have to prosecute him, and he’s as good as a kisser as I dreamed.”

  She shook her head like a kitten that couldn’t sneeze. “Okay. There’s way too much to unpack there. I only have a minute here and just wanted to check with you. Promise you’ll call later and tell me everything. I mean everything.”

  I laughed, feeling better than I had in days. “I promise. For now, I’m fine. You?”

  She shrugged. “I’m okay. We survived this day years ago, and I keep reminding myself of that. Is Pauley okay?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m keeping an eye on him and will report back. When are you coming home?”

  She sighed. “I’m not sure. Probably sooner rather than later.”

  Oh, there was something to unpack in that statement, too. I nodded. “We’re definitely going to talk later. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” She clicked off.

  I pulled the car back onto the road and headed to my destination.

  Cheryl had rented a dilapidated single-wide outside of town surrounded by other run-down trailers. The owner of the park, a huge guy with a potbelly not constrained by his stained wife-beater T-shirt, had taken one look at the warrant and handed over the key. A few neighbors lifted their plastic blinds to peer at me as I stood on the rickety steps waiting for the lead officer to open the door.

  An older black SUV pulled to a stop in the mud, and Detective Pierce jumped out, his gaze hot. “That was not very nice.”

  I bit back a smile. “I thought they might have information.” Yeah. I’d called Pierce over to meet Thelma and Georgiana before I’d left. As the detective approached me now, I let the smile loose. “You have chocolate at the corner of your mouth.”

  He wiped off his mouth. “She pinched my thigh. I’m gonna have a bruise for at least a week.”

  “Toughen up, copper,” I murmured, enjoying his discomfort way too much. Then I caught sight of Nick in the passenger side of Pierce’s vehicle, on his phone. His gaze met mine, and heat tried to climb into my face. We hadn’t had a chance to talk yet, and that kiss was still on my mind. Plus, watching a movie with him had been way too comfortable, even though it had been an old action movie starring Sylvester Stallone. I turned just as the uniformed officer finished clearing the place.

  “We didn’t find a thing at Whitaker’s earlier. Let’s hope we do better here.” Pierce yanked blue gloves from his back pocket and handed them over. “Try not to disturb anything.”

  I wasn’t a moron. “Thanks.” I pulled them on and waited for him to proceed me. It was my first search, and while prosecutors didn’t usually participate, I was glad to be there. A part of me was fearful I’d brought danger to Cheryl and Randy, and I hoped I hadn’t contributed to their deaths. Plus, I was a little curious. Having the right to go through somebody else’s secrets was a little intriguing, and that was probably bad.

  But still. I walked into the small living area and tried to pretend like I knew what I was doing. There was no sign of emergency personnel or life-saving devices. “Wait a minute. Where was Cheryl found?” I hadn’t thought to ask.

  “In the park not too far from your office,” Pierce said, moving toward the dirty dishes piled in the minuscule kitchen.

  I turned to the twin chairs next to shelves, which also had crap scattered across them. Apparently, Cheryl hadn’t been much of a housekeeper. The place smelled faintly of burned noodles and moldy carpet. I moved for the shelves to see framed pictures of Cheryl and an older woman next to one of Cheryl and Randy. They were smiling at the lake, the sun on their faces, looking young and free.

  A pang hit me. How could they both be dead? Here one second and just gone the next. “Did Cheryl have family?”

  “Sister in Los Angeles. They weren’t close. I’m not sure she’s coming out for the body,” Nick said, stepping into the room.

  I swallowed and turned to take a stack of photos off the shelf to go through. Most were of Randy at the lake, river, and park. Several were of people at the spa, friends of Cheryl’s. In so many of them, she looked happy. There was one of her and Randy smoking what looked like an e-cigarette in the park by my building. “I read somewhere that people put pot in these cigarettes.”

  “Yeah,” Nick said, black gloves on his hands as he went through the bottom shelves. “They use a hash oil in the vape pen.”

  I shook my head at the kids. What had they gotten involved in? I flipped through the pictures, stopping short at one at the bottom. Randy and Cheryl sat in some sort of booth with an obvious party going on around them. Somebody to Randy’s left wore a Lorde’s leather cut. In fact, there were several in the background. I squinted, my breath catching as I looked closer.

  “What?” Nick straightened and looked over my shoulder.

  I tapped my finger at two figures behind Cheryl. “Recognize anybody?”

>   Nick dropped his chin, nearly hitting my arm. “Yeah.”

  I swallowed. It was Aiden Devlin, Melvin Whitaker, and Scot Peterson, obviously talking next to the bar, their faces leaning toward each other as if whispering, all three with intense expressions. My stomach dropped hard. The connection between all three of them was right there.

  Nick straightened. “It’s time to interview Aiden Devlin.” He looked toward Pierce, who was watching from the kitchen. “Bring him in, would you?”

  Pierce smiled; his expression grim. “Gladly.”

  Aiden Devlin overwhelmed the interrogation room. Dressed in his leather cut, black T-shirt, and faded jeans, he looked like the dangerous man I suspected him to be. He also looked bored.

  I stood safely on my side of the one-way glass next to Nick. It had only taken Detective Pierce an hour to track down Aiden and bring him in, and apparently Aiden had come willingly with no fuss. Even so, the cops were letting him cool his heels for a while in the room.

  Nick cleared his throat, staring straight ahead. “I should apologize for last night.”

  I didn’t take my gaze off Aiden. “No need. I’ll just use it to blackmail you at some point.”

  Nick snorted. “Hey. To the best of my recollection, you tried to kiss me, Deputy Prosecutor Albertini.”

  I grinned. “Your word against mine, and I win every time.” Turning, I fluttered my eyelashes even while noting the fresh bandage above his eye.

  His gaze ran over my face, those amber eyes warm. “Yeah. I see that.”

  Heat moved into my cheeks, so I turned back to the glass.

  As if he knew, Aiden looked up, his gaze meeting mine directly. My breath caught. There was no way he could see me, but I swear, he looked right at me. Heat, the super lava hot kind, exploded in my abdomen.

  The door opened, and Detective Pierce strode inside the interrogation room with a lumbering, square-shaped guy the size of a small tree wearing a DEA jacket. I straightened.

  “This is interesting,” Nick murmured.

  Pierce slapped a case file down on the table and drew out a chair while his buddy did the same. “This is DEA Agent Frank Zimmerman, and he’s pretty interested in talking to you, Devlin.”

  Aiden smirked and looked from Pierce to Zimmerman and back. “So the state and feds are working together for once. I feel like I’m bringing people together here.”

  “Yeah. You’re a real unifier,” Zimmerman muttered, sounding like he smoked three packs a day.

  “I am trying to get into heaven one day,” Aiden agreed, drumming the fingers of one hand on the table.

  Pierce quickly read through Aiden’s rights. “Understand?”

  “Yep,” Aiden said, not requesting a lawyer.

  Why the heck wasn’t he asking for a lawyer? I chewed on my bottom lip.

  “How did you know Scot Peterson?” Pierce asked.

  Aiden kept drumming. “Scot Peterson was the prosecuting attorney of the county, and he filed charges against me for drug possession and intent to distribute.” Aiden’s chin lowered. “Drugs and guns were found in an apartment complex owned by the Lordes but not in my personal space there. However, truth and facts didn’t seem to matter to your prosecuting attorney. Rumor has it that he is now deceased.”

  I shivered.

  Pierce’s head lifted. “You knew Scot outside of your criminal case.”

  Aiden’s eyebrows lifted. “I did?”

  “Yes.” Pierce flipped open the cover of the file and slid several pictures across the wooden table. “You and Scot at the marina. Here at the park. And here…at what looks like a Lorde’s party.”

  If Aiden was surprised by the pictures, he didn’t show it. Not a bit. His brows drew down. “Yeah. I think he was following me. Stalking me, maybe.” One by one, Aiden slid the photos back with his index finger. “It’s too bad you don’t have recordings. Then you’d know what he wanted from me.” He shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to take my word for it.”

  Nick shifted his weight next to me. “He’s not fazed in the slightest.”

  No. The hot-headed kid I’d known had grown into an ice-cold adult. Aiden glanced at Zimmerman. “That all you got?”

  Pierce leaned forward, drawing his attention. “Not even close. We have a very pretty grey-eyed deputy prosecutor who found this picture.” He pushed one across again. “Of you with Melvin Whitaker, behind two kids who are now dead. The sweet lawyer also talked to Whitaker’s neighbors and discovered you’d visited a few times.”

  “Damn it,” Nick snapped.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “He just put your neck out there.” Fury vibrated low in Nick’s tone. “I’m going to kick his ass.”

  Pierce went for the kill. “I believe you know my deputy prosecutor.”

  Aiden’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Not even close. His fingers stopped tapping, and he leaned forward this time. “She’s nowhere near yours, Pierce. She never will be.”

  I blinked. What was happening?

  “Ah, crap,” Nick muttered.

  I turned toward him. “I don’t understand.”

  Nick glanced down and snorted, rolling his eyes. “Jesus.”

  There was a whole lot of subtext going on here, and I was missing all of it. “I’ve just been doing my job,” I said, trying to make sense of the conversation. Was Pierce trying to get a rise out of Aiden by using me? If so, why would that make Aiden mad? Sure, he’d kissed me, but we hadn’t been friends for twelve years. “This is befuddling,” I muttered.

  Nick coughed out a laugh.

  Aiden glanced at where I stood, somehow, and turned back to Pierce. “Does she know why you left LAPD?”

  I perked up.

  Pierce didn’t so much as twitch. “I don’t believe we’ve had that conversation yet. Although, considering she spent the night with prosecuting attorney Nicolo Basanelli last night, I don’t know that she wants to understand my life.”

  Nick’s indrawn breath coincided with my gasp.

  I swiveled toward him. “I did not stay the night.”

  “I know,” he said dryly. “I’m sorry. Detective Pierce made a comment about my bandage today, and I retorted that it wasn’t nearly as bad as the one you’d done for me. Apparently, he’s running with the innuendo. Probably just to see if he can get beneath Devlin’s skin. I’ll set him straight after this. I promise.”

  Great. That’s all I needed. Then I stared back into the room. Aiden’s expression remained the same, so Pierce’s gamble hadn’t worked. Then he looked up again. Directly at me.

  Fire burned in those blue eyes. All sorts of different hues of blue flames. I took an involuntary step back.

  “Well then,” Nick breathed. “Guess that answers that.”

  Chapter 22

  Wednesday had been one of the longest days of my life, and I drove down my long driveway, sighing in relief at having the day almost done. Of course, my dad would probably be calling within the hour with the news that I’d received an anniversary card.

  I loved June eighth through December twenty-first. I truly did.

  For now, I was going to relax. Until I saw Aiden’s black and shiny chrome motorcycle right up against my garage door. Come on. He’d only been let loose an hour before, and he’d headed right to my place? I stopped my car and rested my head on the steering wheel.

  I ran through my options of leaving, calling the police, or facing him.

  He came around the garage, no doubt having heard my car. He was still wearing the jeans and motorcycle jacket, and as he leaned against the siding, he was quite the sight. Bad boy behind his bike. I should’ve taken a picture and sold it for calendars.

  Instead, I exited my car and slammed the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m not sure.” His oh shucks shrug was kind of appealing, although the dangerous glint in his eye negated any cuteness. “I had a shitty day, and chances are, so did you.” He ran a rough hand through his thick hair, leaving it ruffled and too sexy. “You
know what today is.”

  Yeah. So, he did remember. I glanced at my watch. It was surprising my dad hadn’t called yet. “What do you want, Aiden?”

  His gaze ran from my boots to my face. Then he cocked his head at the bike. “Wanna go for a ride?”

  I stilled. A ride? My gaze slid from him to the big bike. Sure, I’d ridden dirt bikes my entire life, but a motorcycle on the open road was another story. I couldn’t just go for a ride with him. The guy had just been in police custody for questioning, although he obviously hadn’t been arrested. This time.

  “Come on, Anna,” he coaxed, pushing off the side of the garage. “Let’s go for a ride. Feel the wind in your hair and the rush of power between your thighs. We can just forget everything for a few minutes.”

  Between my thighs. Surprisingly enough, I don’t think he meant it as a come-on or an innuendo. The idea of being free and away from life for a short time was beyond enticing. Just to not think.

  He gave that smirk that had ticked me off earlier and straddled the bike, kicking it free. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and held it out to me, his face full of dare. How many times through the years had I dreamed of him asking me for a ride on a motorcycle? Would it be as good as I fantasized?

  I’ve never claimed to be anything other than human.

  Without a word, I tossed my purse back into my car and strode to him, taking the jacket and putting my arms through the sleeves. It was way too big and smelled like him. Wild and free. Then I took his hand and hopped up behind him. The feel of the hard leather against my legs caught me first, and then I slid my hands around his waist. His abdomen was flat with ripped muscles that made me bite back a groan. He levered up and then down, starting the bike, and it came to life with a fierce roar that vibrated throughout my entire body.

  “This is such a mistake,” I muttered, wrapping my arms more securely around him. Around Aiden Devlin.

  He laughed, the sound low and masculine. “Hold on, Angel.” He flipped around and drove down the drive.

  Exhilaration rushed through me and I held on tight, throwing my head back to feel the rush. It felt beyond amazing. We reached the end of my drive, surrounded by trees, and he slowed. I settled my chin on his T-shirt.