“This started long before Jenkins showed up.” Kenny’s voice was low, even, and made all the hairs stand up on the back of Conn’s neck. “Originally it was just protection money. They got tipped off when raids were happening, where the heat was coming, who needed to get out of town for a while. Enough to keep them one step ahead of us.”
Who was “us” and who was “them”? In Conn’s mind, Kenny stepped over the line the day he took a penny from a drug dealer. “Why me? Why now?”
“I need someone out on the streets.”
Conn thought fast. Needing someone on the streets meant one of the recently promoted sergeants was working for Kenny, too. “Doing what, exactly?”
“Lift up your shirt.” Kenny’s face didn’t change.
“You think I’m wearing a wire?”
“I didn’t last this long without taking some precautions.”
He already knew what Kenny would want. The average raid crime scene contained three things: money, drugs, and illegal weapons. With the exception of the guns, it was easy enough to skim a little off the top before anyone else showed up, and even those could be managed if you got creative. It was the oldest story in the dirty cop’s book. Without changing expressions, Conn lifted his shirt and turned in a circle. Kenny was too old school. Conn could just as easily be recording the conversation on his cell phone. But he hadn’t thought that fast. Getting out his phone now would only tip Kenny off.
“It’s going to vary. Keep an ear on dispatch. You’re already usually first on a scene. You’ll get some warning. Try not to be in the middle of a call when something’s supposed to go down.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“A share. A bigger share as the business grows. We’ve attracted some outside interest from Chicago.”
“Chicago.” That meant the mob or a bigger gang.
Kenny shrugged. Just an average day for the average criminal hiding in plain sight. “Everyone needs a mentor. Or a training officer. You in or out?”
Saying yes would cost him the only job he ever wanted, with the only family he truly believed would last forever. Saying no would put Cady in more danger than she was. “Hell yes, I’m in.”
*
He walked into the precinct a cop suspected of an assault and walked out knowing his days as a cop were numbered. If he went to Hawthorn, he’d be fucked. Kenny would make sure every cop knew he was a snitch, which shortened his life expectancy considerably. How long until he stopped getting backup, or until some other East Side banger was framed for his murder?
Cady was white-knuckling the wheel, peering through the windshield at him as he walked across the impound lot, scaled the chain-link fence, and dropped to the ground a few cars down from her position. He opened the driver’s door, barely waiting as she clambered across the console and into the passenger seat. He had the car in first and moving before he shut the door.
“What happened?”
He didn’t know how to respond. His guts were in knots. “Nothing.”
Cady put her hand on his arm. “Conn,” she said quietly. “Tell me.”
They drove back to her house through SoMa, Christmas lights twinkling, bell ringers on the corners, a quartet in Victorian costume singing carols while development volunteers passed out cider and gingerbread. When they were back on the highway, he spoke.
“It wasn’t him messing with you. I thought it might be.”
“You thought a cop was targeting me to put pressure on you?” She spoke carefully, as if trying to make sense of the tangled web of paranoia her life had become.
“It was possible. But it’s not him.”
Which left him only one option: watch the videos.
They pulled into her garage. “Keep the car running and the garage door open until I tell you it’s clear.”
She waited in the car while he checked the house. It was empty, the scent of the Christmas tree lingering in the air. He’d powered up his laptop while he cleared the house. A file was waiting in the cloud storage folder. He blew out a hard breath. What a mess. If he’d looked at this first, he would have known who was threatening Cady. But he’d tried to save his relationship with her, and in the end, cost himself his career with the LPD.
Now he would lose both Cady and the department.
He walked back into the dark garage and opened the passenger door. “I need to show you something.”
She followed him into the living room, shedding her coat, scarf, and his hat, stuffing it in her coat pocket as she walked. “You’re scaring me.”
Conn got out his laptop and opened the lid. The screen flickered to life. He called up the video streaming from the cameras. Cady watched over his shoulder. “That’s my front door.” She pointed at the second view. “That’s my deck. You put cameras on my house.”
“I did.” He’d always owned up to what he’d done, even when it cost him.
“I asked you not to do that.”
“I did it anyway.”
“Why?”