Authors: Radclyffe
“A long time ago, when I was…in college.” Actually, Dell had come up with another cadet when they’d had a three-day furlough. They’d been looking for a place to have sex where they wouldn’t risk being discovered. They hadn’t seen much of the town, they’d been too busy discovering each other. In the long run, their caution hadn’t helped. But none of that mattered now. She wasn’t in the army. She was a cop, she had Sandy, and that was everything she’d ever wanted.
Allie crossed Bradford and turned down Commercial. “A few people just saw me pick you up, though.”
Mitch grinned. “We’ve got that covered. Remember, I’m an ex-lover.”
“Huh. I don’t know how believable that’s gonna be.” Tremont smiled, a smile that suggested Mitch would’ve been lucky to ever have gotten over on her.
He laughed. “If anyone asks, you can always say I didn’t measure up.”
“I have a feeling you would, but I can work with that.” Tremont parked. “That story might just be believable. I guess we’ll find out, because I’m taking you to breakfast at Café Heaven. A lot of townies eat there, and trust me, there will be questions. And talk.”
“Good. Go ahead and let them know what a jerk I was to let you get away.” He didn’t doubt for a second she’d left a string of worn-out women behind her. She was too hot not to have broken a lot of hearts. No ring. He wasn’t wearing his either. He didn’t when he was undercover. He thought about Sandy, how good she looked in uniform. How great she looked out of it. He thought about the send-off she’d given him early that morning after the lieutenant had called and said she had a job for Mitch. Sandy liked to make sure Mitch knew where he belonged, seeing as he often had to get close to women when he was undercover. He didn’t mind her staking her claim—he liked knowing the rules, liked knowing where the line was. “Unless you think it would be more credible for me to come crawling back. I’m willing to play if you are.”
“Sorry, everybody in town knows I’ve got a girl. And you know, she’s got a temper.”
Mitch laughed. The line between him and the beautiful officer Tremont was really clear. Good to know. “I’ll be just the ex in town fronting for the Kings, then. Work for you?”
“Fine. Let’s go have some breakfast and really give the town something to talk about. Then I’ll take you to your room—where are you staying?”
“Nowhere yet.”
“I can recommend a place. It’s crowded this week, but they’ll find you something for me.”
“Good enough.”
“When you’re settled, you can send Detective Mitchell over to meet the rest of the team, and we’ll have a talk with Mica Butler.”
*
Bri Parker leaned with her back against the wall in the chief’s office listening to Allie lay out the game plan for convincing Mica Butler to provide evidence against Hector Guzman. Dellon Mitchell, in an open-collared white shirt and black jeans, sat relaxed and confident-looking next to Allie in a chair facing Reese, occasionally adding some new intel about Mica or MS-13.
Bri was only half-listening. Allie had run the case by her earlier that morning to make sure she wasn’t overlooking anything. She and Allie graduated from the academy at the same time, but she’d had a lot more field experience working with Carter on a big case not long ago. So this was Allie’s shot. This case meant a lot to her for a lot of reasons. It was her first lead, and Flynn was mixed up in it to her eyebrows. So Bri didn’t mind riding shotgun on this one for Allie, but she wasn’t about to take the backseat behind this detective from Philadelphia. Mitchell knew her stuff, that wasn’t the problem. Bri didn’t even mind that Mitchell was a little cocky and a lot good-looking. She just minded somebody else getting between her and Allie. Until Reese started assigning them different partners to give them more experience, they’d been together, and they were still a good team. She could give Allie all the backup she needed.
“Anything to add, Parker?” the chief asked.
Bri resisted the urge to straighten to attention. She didn’t want to look like a rookie in front of the detective. “What do we do if she lawyers up?”
“Good question,” Reese said. “If that happens, we have to go with it. Then,” she looked at Detective Mitchell, “it may be necessary to bring charges in order to assure her cooperation.”
“We could threaten that,” Mitchell said, “but I don’t think we have anything that would stick in the long run. We know what Hector has done, but we can’t prove it. She has to know about his illegal activities, but we can’t prove that either.”
Allie said, “But if she
thinks
you’ve got more than you really do, that could be persuasive.”
“True,” Mitchell said. “But she’ll be a better witness if she’s not hostile. If she comes over to our side voluntarily.”
Bri said, “What about Flynn? Maybe Flynn could talk her into it.”
“I don’t think—” Allie said.
“Who’s Flynn?” Mitchell asked.
“A woman Mica has been seeing.”
“Romantically? That’s good to know. Definitely something we might be able to use.”
“If we have to,” Allie said sharply.
“Of course,” Mitchell said smoothly. “It’s always best to leave civilians out of it if we can.”
“Anything else?” Reese asked, looking at Allie.
“No ma’am.”
Reese nodded. “Bring her in quietly. We don’t want to send up a flag to whoever might be watching her.”
Bri said, “Allie and I could pick her up in plain clothes. People around Flynn’s place know us both. We’re friends of hers. If we bring a cruiser, we might as well take out an ad.”
“Good idea. Can we take your SUV, Chief?” Ali asked. Reese nodded and Allie looked at Mitchell. “You’ll want to stay here.”
“No problem.”
Bri pushed away from the wall and Allie joined her.
“Let’s go change into street clothes,” Allie said, “and then let’s go get her.”
*
Mica tensed at the sound of footsteps outside the partially open bedroom window. Two people. Not trying to be real quiet, but not announcing their approach either. She slid away from Flynn and pushed back the covers. That morning she’d collected her clothes and piled them by the bed, as she’d been doing since she’d left North Philadelphia. She couldn’t run very far naked. Careful not to wake Flynn, she leaned over and grabbed her jeans. If she could get the window open quickly enough—
A knock sounded on the door. Two sharp raps. She relaxed a fraction but kept dressing. Hector’s men would not knock. Beside her, Flynn sat up.
“I’ll get it.” Flynn scooped up a pair of sweats and stepped into them.
The knock came again.
“Look first.” Mica pulled her pants up and yanked her T-shirt over her head. “If you don’t know them, don’t open the door.”
Flynn hesitated, a shirt in her hand. “What will they look like?”
Mica shrugged. “Probably Hispanic, unless he’s recruited some associates up here. And they won’t necessarily be men. Look, Fly—”
“Stay here,” Flynn said quietly, buttoning the shirt. “If I don’t know them, you’ll hear me say I’m busy and to come back later. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me. Just be careful.”
Flynn kissed her. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Sure.” Mica waited until Flynn disappeared into the living room to ease up the window. She didn’t want to go through. If she did, she knew she’d never come back. If she stayed, Flynn was likely to get hurt. She swung a leg over the sill.
Flynn surveyed the empty room and the open window. A cold, sick feeling seeped through her stomach.
Allie said from behind her, “She couldn’t have gotten far. We’ll pick her up.”
“I’ll call it in,” Bri said.
“No,” Flynn said quickly. “She doesn’t have anything with her except what’s she’s wearing. She’s got to go back to her room. Let me go after her. Let me talk to her.”
“What is it going to take for you to get the picture?” Allie said sharply. “She’s running, Flynn. She ran here, she faked her identity, and she’s hidden her past. And now she’s running again.”
“She told me,” Flynn said quietly. “She told me who she is and where’s she’s been. I know what she’s been through. She’s not who you think.”
“Oh, come on.” Allie glanced at the bed. “Pillow talk? And you believe her?”
“Yes, I believe her. Please, you can follow me if you want to, but let me go after her. Let me talk to her. Were you planning on arresting her?”
Allie glanced at Bri, who shrugged. “Not at this time. We only want to talk to her.”
“Then don’t treat her like a criminal.”
“She may
be
a criminal,” Allie said. “When someone runs, they’re usually guilty. We know she’s part of a vicious gang. And she’s putting you right in the middle of—”
“No,” Flynn said quietly, “no, she isn’t. I know what I’m doing. You just have to trust me on that. And now I need to go if I’m going to catch her. I’m sure this isn’t the first time she’s had to leave somewhere in a hurry, and she won’t need long to disappear.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?” Allie shook her head. “God, Flynn. You’re worth so much more—”
“Allie, I appreciate how you feel about me. I really do.” She touched her bare throat, still not used to being so exposed. “But the collar doesn’t make me a saint. And it doesn’t make me infallible. I’ve sinned.”
“Only you would see it that way,” Allie muttered. “All right. But we’re coming with you. We’ll wait outside, but if she’s there, we can’t let her leave. I’m sorry.”
“Flynn’s right, Allie,” Bri said quietly. “We need to soft-pedal this. We don’t want to scare her off. We need her.”
“What are you talking about?” Flynn asked. Allie avoided her gaze, and that could only mean Allie was bothered by whatever was happening, but she didn’t want to admit it. She needed to find Mica now more than ever. “What aren’t you telling me? What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Allie said. “Let’s go.” As they walked through the living room, Allie asked, “What about a weapon, Flynn? Do you think she’s armed?”
Flynn hesitated. Her instinct was to say no, but she didn’t really know. Mica was scared. She’d fought to survive and she would keep on fighting, no matter what it took. “I don’t know. She might be. I’ve never seen her with a weapon.” She stopped at the door. “But you have to understand something. She’s not the evil you seek. That’s what she’s running from.”
“If that’s true,” Allie said, “then she’ll be all right.”
Flynn climbed into the rear seat, wondering what she could say to convince Mica to talk to the law. Mica hadn’t trusted her enough to stay. She didn’t even care enough about her to say good-bye. Yes, it hurt that Mica had run from her, but she understood why. Too bad understanding never erased the pain.
*
Mica threw her clothes into the gym bag she’d been living out of for the last six weeks and grabbed the cash she’d stashed in a box of tampons. Dumb to think she could slow down, stay in one place. When Esme hadn’t returned her last two calls, she should have known trouble was coming.
Dios
, she hoped they hadn’t hurt Esme trying to track her. Esme hadn’t done anything except encourage her to escape and give her the wad of one-dollar bills she kept hidden for emergencies. Maybe for her own escape one day. Mica’s hands shook. Someone had tracked her here, to this town, to Flynn’s. This was close, way too close. Flynn hadn’t sent a warning when she’d gone to the door, but Flynn wasn’t street-smart. She thought she could reason with people. Make sense of the world because she was good and saw good everywhere. So naïve. So amazingly beautiful inside.
Mica just couldn’t take the chance that Flynn would end up trying to handle Hector’s posse. If Hector’s men made it through the door and she wasn’t there, Flynn would be safe. And sooner or later, it
would
be them, or if Hector really wanted to make a statement, it would be him. And he wouldn’t hesitate to cut down whoever stood between him and her. She was as much his territory, as much his property, as the guns he sold and the drugs he smuggled and the girls he traded. She’d always known that, and at first she’d accepted it as the price she paid for his protection. Now she would never be anyone’s property again. Whatever she gave of herself would be on her own terms. She thought of how she had given her body to Flynn—not just her body, but a piece of her heart and part of her soul—with complete freedom. Flynn had given her back the freedom to choose. She wondered what it would be like to have a life with a woman like that. To live as she wanted and to share that life with someone who valued her, who cared about her, someone she could love—
Mica yanked the zipper closed on the bag. Someone else’s life she was dreaming about.
She grabbed her wallet off the dresser and yanked open the door. Flynn stood on the other side, her hand raised to knock.
“Last night was nice,” Mica said, preempting anything Flynn might want to say. “But it’s done. You told me to tell you if it was just one night. Well, it was a little more than that, but not much. I’ve got other places to be.” When she tried to shoulder past, Flynn edged in front of her and barred her way. She didn’t have much time, and Flynn, for all her gentleness, was unbending. “You don’t want to get in my way, Flynn.”