Don't Leave Me Page 9

  Llewellyn looked around as he slid forward. “Not sure what you’re getting at there, Tony.”

  Of course there was Hargraves, who hadn’t been there but was tight with Llewellyn, and when anything was questionable in one of their cases, the other was always quick to back him up. Every I was dotted and every T was crossed. “Of course you do. I know how it is on the streets.” He glanced around the bar and all the cops who filled the place, not all of them bad. Some he still believed were really there to keep the peace, to make a difference.

  “Sounds to me that you’re making some unhealthy accusations.” Llewellyn was staring at him, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was treading on thin ice.

  “No, I’m just pointing out all the loose ends you’ve missed. If I can figure this out, what do you think will happen if the wrong person steps in and shines a spotlight on all of it? Every one of you at the scene will be questioned. Do you really believe everyone’s stories will hold up, that one of the cops there won’t talk?”

  Llewellyn glanced to the table and smiled. “Rock solid. We’re all on the same page. Are you, Tony?”

  He didn’t look away from the icy eyes staring back at him. “Hey, justice, remember? Just tying up loose ends and making sure there are no witnesses.” He pulled a book of matches from his pocket and tossed them on the table. “Room 126,” he said as he watched Llewellyn pick up the book of matches from the Red Herd Inn, stare at them, and then look Tony’s way.

  “Glad to hear you’re on our team. So who is it?”

  “Old guy who saw Zoe huddled with her kids when the shooting happened,” Tony said. He looked around again as Llewellyn smiled. A lightness sparked in his eyes as he downed the rest of his beer.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Llewellyn said as he went to scoot back his chair.

  “So why the woman?” Tony asked.

  “Wrong place at the wrong time. She just happened to take the stairs and saw the guy go down. What does it matter? She’s not really an American or one of us, anyway.”

  Tony’s throat thickened, and he had to force down the lump jammed in his throat. “I guess I don’t understand the chance you took for, what, a task force, for clean parks, for…?” He needed him to say it.

  Llewellyn stood up, lifting his hand to Hargraves, and then stepped around before leaning down to Tony, his face so close he could smell the beer. “The ends justify the means. At least now we have the power behind us to get rid of the scum filling our streets. Don’t know about you, but I’m done with the stabbings, the shootings, the overdoses, the drugs, the drunks, seeing the cardboard boxes and park benches filled with these undesirables, and so are the people of Henderson. Decent folks here want to be able to take their kids to the park without seeing some homeless bum with a stolen shopping cart, stinking and rummaging through garbage. It bothers my wife, my kids. It scares them, thinking they could be stabbed or killed or robbed. Resale value on houses has dropped in areas that have too many of these undesirables hanging around. But thanks for the…” Llewelyn held up the matches. “The tip.” He stood up and was going to leave.

  “Just one question: Why pick those three men? Why shoot them, and how did you manage to plant that gun so quickly? That was something, by the way. Genius,” he added, keeping his voice low and even. For a minute he wasn’t sure what he saw in Llewellyn, as the man shrugged and stared at him, saying nothing. Tony was sure he’d leave without another word, as he seemed to consider everything.

  “They were just there,” he said, patting Tony’s shoulder. For a second, Tony thought he’d be sick.

  “Hands up!” shouted a man from behind him. The Feds and other local cops filed in and took Llewellyn down. Another had Hargraves, and it was chaos everywhere as Tony stood up and pulled up his T-shirt to reveal the tape holding the wire. He peeled it off and handed it to Special Agent Alexander, the Fed Chase McCabe had called. Tony had suggested the wire, as getting the confession was the only way.

  “You hear everything? You have enough?” he asked.

  The agent had dark hair and a thick mustache, and he was a few inches shorter. “Got it all. Will be enough to put him away.”

  “And what about Sawyer?” Tony asked. “He safe? And Zoe Doucette, the confession she signed?”

  Alexander took the wire and tape, and Tony took in the eyes of the other cops he’d worked with, who were there taking in this scene and seeing what he’d done. “We’ll get her out. Sawyer, we put him up at the Hyatt, babysat by an agent. He’s given a statement and will go before a grand jury. We got it handled, Detective Martin,” Alexander said, and Tony felt some of his worry ease. He’d handed Sawyer over to the agent after he and Chase had met him at the local field office. Chase had a way of making things happen, organizing, fixing. He could see now the skills he’d needed for the job he had.

  “You goddamn motherfucker. You wore a wire? You are so dead!” Llewellyn shouted as he was hauled up by another agent.

  Tony stepped closer to the man he’d worked with for years, a man who’d used his badge for something so despicable. He wondered whether he’d ever get past this. “She was born in Delaware. Her grandfather was a German immigrant, and she converted to Islam, a religion just like Christianity, Judaism, Hindu, or being a fucking atheist. She married a Muslim man who was a doctor and beat the shit out of her for years, so she left.”

  Llewellyn didn’t even know who he was talking about.

  “Selma, the Muslim woman whose throat you slit,” he said.

  Llewellyn stared at him, still not getting it. He could see the unfeelingness and something else that reminded him of every sociopath he’d ever busted.

  “But why Zoe? What did you say to her? What threats did you use to get her to sign that confession?”

  Llewellyn still said nothing. Instead he smiled as if proud of what he’d done.

  Tony walked outside the bar, seeing the night settle in, the Feds and cops milling about, the people outside stopping to get a glimpse of what had gone down. No one had any idea cops were involved. Tomorrow the story would break, and every good cop in the Henderson department would be questioned to uncover how deep the corruption went, but at least Zoe Doucette would be free. However, the fact that he’d gone against the brotherhood, no matter what they’d done, would always be held against him. He’d known that before he taped on that wire.

  “Tony.”

  He turned to the sweet voice that called out to him. Claudia. He couldn’t believe the vision of her standing with other people off to the side. As he walked closer, he took in the dark-haired man with her, not Vic. He swore this guy was bigger, with a face that looked as if he’d been in a fight.

  “What are you doing here?” Tony said. “You’re supposed to be on your way to Oregon with your brother.” He glanced up at the big guy, and he stepped in closer, his hand out.

  “Aaron McCabe,” he said.

  “Tony Martin.” He shook his hand and hoped he didn’t flinch from the tight squeeze.

  Aaron pulled him closer and said, “Don’t fuck it up. She’s my sister.”

  Tony took a second to understand his meaning before he said, “I won’t.” He took in Claudia and her eyes, her loveliness, and everything about her, and he wondered where she’d been all his life.

  Chapter 21

  It wasn’t picture perfect. It was anything but as Tony closed the door to his apartment, which was plain, boxy, and definitely a bachelor pad, with a big-screen TV, one sofa, a tiny kitchen, an empty pizza box, empty beers, and socks on the floor. Claudia caught him picking up the dirty clothes and tossing them in a hamper in the corner. Then he stood there for a minute, his back to her, thinking. What was going through his mind, she wasn’t sure.

  “You’re only eighteen, and I’m…” He turned to her, and she could see something in his face, a question she didn’t think she liked.

  “Older, and…” She stepped closer, standing right in front of him, feeling how strong and solid he was. Chemis
try zinged between them as she could feel him breathing, reacting to her, and she waited for him to do something, close the distance, kiss her, touch her.

  “This is crazy. You should be…” he started, his lips so close, his gaze heavy.

  “Here with you,” she said as she rose up enough that his hand was around her, sliding over her butt and her back, pulling her closer. She pressed her lips to his as she slid her hands over his wide shoulders, giving everything of herself, and she could feel how he held himself so tight. She wondered what it would take for him to let go.

  “Your brother brought you to me. Why?” he asked.

  Even she didn’t know why Aaron had been the one to talk to Vic after she’d said she was staying, after she’d learned from Chase how far Tony was willing to go for Zoe, for her, risking his badge, his life to make things right. She’d dug her heels in. He was stubborn, and so was she.

  “Because I told them I have feelings for you, Tony Martin, that are way past those a woman should have for the man who saved her. I told my brothers that.”

  No one had said anything, especially when she’d said how much she cared. She’d thought falling in love with someone was something that happened over time, not overnight. Aaron was the only one willing to listen, and for some reason he’d been the one to pull Vic aside. His heated words had been enough to get Vic to back off from making Claudia get in the car and go back to Oregon with him. Chase had been watchful and quiet. Whatever was said, she knew she’d one day ask Aaron about it. He was another brother with a lot of secrets. Some she knew, a lot she didn’t. The closeness they all shared was from another life before her.

  “I may not have a job left, you know,” he said, and he still hadn’t moved.

  “I don’t care. You either do or you don’t, but I’m not leaving unless you don’t want me, unless I’m the only one feeling the way I am. If so, tell me and I’ll leave,” she said and took in the smile, the light laughter that filled his eyes, his expression.

  She stepped closer, pressing against him, feeling every inch of him tighten in response. She pressed a kiss to his lips again, and this time his lips parted and deepened the kiss, and he took over, backing her to the wall, taking, tasting until he was fighting for breath and rested his head against hers. Then he lifted her. Her legs went around his waist as he walked her into the bedroom. It was small and dark, and the mattress was soft against her back. He was on top of her, looking down at her.

  “I’d say I think I fell in love with you the first time you shot me that drop-dead look. You weren’t about to just let a bunch of dirty cops get away with setting up some woman.”

  She didn’t think she’d heard him right as she ran her hands over his back, wanting to feel him close, his skin. “And here I am in your apartment and your bedroom, Detective Martin. What exactly are you going to do about it?”

  She could see the smile before he settled in and kissed her again, deeper, tasting her. He pulled away and lifted off his shirt. Saying nothing, she sat up and pulled off her clothes before tossing them as he joined her naked on the bed in the dark, settling between her legs, touching, tasting her.

  When he finally slid inside her and moved, the connection was raw, so right, and for the first time in her life, Claudia had a very different picture of what her future would be. Whatever she decided, whatever happened, it would be with Tony.

  As she lay in the circle of his arms, feeling the aftermath of loving and catching her breath, his hand ran through her hair, down over her curves, her sides, her breasts.

  “So tell me, Ms. McCabe, when life returns to something normal, what’s next?” he asked.

  She rolled on top of him, her breasts pressing into his wide chest. “Well, hopefully nothing more than a lot of this.” She leaned in and kissed him again. His hand was over her head, rolling her over onto her back again as she felt him stir against her.

  “I really like the sound of that,” he said before he slid inside her again, and once more, the moment became just Tony and Claudia.

  Run and Hide

  Chapter 22

  Tony didn’t know what woke him.

  As he opened his eyes where he lay on his stomach, his arm settled over Claudia, who was on her back, eyes closed, sound asleep, her long dark hair a tousled mess spread over the pillow, he took in the tiny imperfections of her face: the freckles, the small and narrow nose, the pink and plump lips. He also took in her breasts, which were perfection that the sheet didn’t cover, and he wanted to lose himself in her again as she lay there, so peaceful and sleeping.

  Tony ran his hand over the flat of her stomach, moving overtop of her, between her legs, seeing her stir, feeling her respond to him and his touch, before he saw the screen of his cell phone light up from the bedside table. The ringer was off, but he saw the name, Salinsky. Damn, it was his sergeant. Any thought of blowing him off fled in a second. He reached for the cell phone as he felt Claudia stir, lift her hand, and pull in a deep breath.

  “Martin,” he said, rolling to his back and off Claudia. Her hand slid under the covers, over his stomach and lower to touch him, to reach for him.

  “Do you have any idea the shit storm you just set off?” Salinsky was yelling on the other end.

  Tony took in Claudia’s wide eyes as he covered her wrist with his hand to stop her. He sat up, swinging his feet onto the floor and giving her his back.

  “You stupid fucking idiot!” Salinsky snapped. “Turning against your own is a great way to get yourself into some deep shit. You have no idea what you’ve stirred up, what’s coming at you. If you wanted to go it alone and fuck over your brothers in blue, you did a bang-up job, so get your fucking ass in here right now.”

  Tony ran his hand over his face as he held the phone from his ear, hearing the rant from his sergeant. He’d been expecting it, but at the same time he hadn’t, not in this way. “Sir, listen. It’s not that simple, and it’s not about me turning against other cops. These guys aren’t cops—they’re murderers. Worse, they used their badges…”

  “I don’t give a fuck about your side of the story. You’re being holier than all hell, but it doesn’t work that way. Not only did you take things outside the department, but you now have a spotlight shining down on every cop here. This was something that should’ve been handled internally. You know that. So, again, get your ass in here, now, in my office.”

  The line went dead, and Tony just held the phone, staring at it for a second, before dumping it on his bedside table.

  “What was that about?” Claudia asked, now sitting up behind him, the sheet pulled over her breasts.

  He glanced over his shoulder, taking her in, feeling the knot tighten in his stomach. “Crap, bullshit. I’ve got to go,” he said as he stood up naked and strode into the bathroom, where he turned on the shower, stuck his hand into the warm spray, and then climbed into the tub and pulled the curtain closed. He could hear a rustle as he scrubbed his head with shampoo and then rinsed it under the spray.

  “Whoever called seemed pretty angry,” Claudia said from outside the shower, standing in the bathroom. He could see her outline through the transparent shower curtain. She was leaning against the sink.

  He grabbed the soap and scrubbed himself. “My sergeant,” he said, knowing sides would be taken in this, and not necessarily his. That much he’d expected. He could hear a rustle again and wasn’t sure what she was doing as he rinsed off.

  “So is this why you told me last night that you may not have a job left?” she said.

  He turned off the water and stepped out of the tub, seeing Claudia standing there, wearing his T-shirt from the night before. Her dyed dark hair was a mess, and her face still held the marks of the roughness of the cops. He reached for the green towel hooked to the back of the door and took in the way she watched him. She was unsettled.

  “And so it begins. Yeah, this is it,” he said—and more, he assumed, considering he was likely now seen as the enemy by everyone he worked with. What would it
be like to walk through the door of the station, past the cops he’d worked with for years, and now be seen as a pariah? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  He dumped the towel over the lip of the tub and strode back into his tiny boxlike bedroom, where he pulled open a drawer to find clean socks. No underwear left, so he reached for his only other spare clean pair of jeans and pulled them on before walking to the closet and reaching for a deep blue dress shirt. He shrugged it on and buttoned it up, feeling Claudia behind him, hearing the floor creak.

  “So what do you want me to do?” she said, and he stilled for a minute, then finished tucking in his shirt.

  He reached for a belt and fed it through his belt loops as he glanced over at her standing beside the bed, her legs bare, her hair a mess. Her entire image was that of a woman who’d been well shagged. He would’ve loved nothing more than to take her back to bed, but at the same time, he knew that with the entire department and likely all the higher ups gunning for him, their pleasure would be short lived, so he stepped over to her and rested his hands on her arms, then around her back and lower to settle on her ass. He pulled her closer, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers, tasting her, kissing her deeply.

  He was out of breath as he pulled back and pressed his forehead to hers. He wanted to stay for a minute but could feel the heat at his back pulling him away. He had to go. “Stay, go back to sleep,” he said.

  And what? He’d call later. He didn’t have a clue what he was walking into. Either he’d be back in an hour after having his shield and gun stripped away, or he’d be tied up for hours. He kissed her again and then stepped away, taking in her eyes, which were filled with such spunk and life and everything he’d never experienced before with a woman.