Sully reared back a few inches before he breathed, “Fuck me.”
Colt got closer and his voice dipped lower. “Kid’s not mine, I didn’t touch her, never had my clothes off, either did she. Kid’s Denny’s.”
Sully’s face got red before he said, “This guy’s like a freakin’ tornado, devastation in his wake.” He looked at the envelope and back at Colt. “The note?”
“Yep, the one to me.”
“Can we use it?”
“Parents’ve given permission.”
“Feb know all this?”
“Just got back from the bar.”
“How’d she take it?”
“Not good but I learned I got waffles and omelets to look forward to, though I gotta earn ‘em so it ended on a high note.”
Sully smiled and it wasn’t with humor but something else. He didn’t make Colt wait long to find out what that something else was.
“You remember that time we were in Winter Park, Lorraine went to bed and you and I decided to see a Colorado sunrise so we stayed up all night drinkin’ and talkin’?” he asked then quickly added something that would give Colt an out if he didn’t want to enter the conversation. “You were pretty hammered.”
He was hammered. Enough to tell Sully everything about Feb, why he loved her and why it cut through the bone when he lost her. Not enough to forget he did it. It was after Melanie left, during the time he was pissed at her for giving up at the same time wondering if he unintentionally gave her some signal that she should.
“I remember.”
“What you said, what Lorraine told me, I still didn’t get it about February. Cold as ice to you. Everyone else, warm and sweet. All that mattered to me, she left and it scarred you.” Sully was still smiling that smile when he said, “Waffles, omelets, a second chance in the middle of a shit storm and a girl who can stand strong through this crazy mess and go to work every day?” He shook his head. “Now, I think I’m gettin’ it.” His smile finally filled with humor. “Better thing though, now you’re gettin’ it.”
Colt shook his head but he did it grinning. “Don’t be rude, Sul.”
“Gotta get you drunk, find out if she wears those chokers to bed,” Sully joked.
“Now you’re pissin’ me off.”
“Man, I’m just sayin’, beware. Everyone wants to know that.”
Before Colt could answer, he heard Nowakowski call, “Lieutenant Colton?”
He automatically looked to the right and saw Cheryl Sheckle glancing around hope in her face or expectation. Happy expectation. She thought her lover was close.
Colt hated to do it but Nowakowski wouldn’t have called his name unless he wanted to make his point so he called back, “Yeah?”
Cheryl’s body locked but her eyes sliced to him. Then the color fled from her face.
“Would you like to assist with this interview?” Nowakowski asked, tipping his head to Cheryl and Cheryl looked at Nowakowski then at Colt, face still white, now her hands were clenched.
What that fucking guy was playing at, Colt had no clue and he wished the asshole would have cued him.
“I’m thinkin’ you got it,” Colt answered wondering how this was, exactly, “taking care of Candy” as he promised Ryan he would do.
“Your call,” Nowakowski lied, it wasn’t Colt’s call at all and he wondered what the bastard would have done if Colt had answered, “Yeah, sure.”
Then Nowakowski motioned toward the hall that led to the interrogation rooms. “Ms. Sheckle, if you would?”
Her movements showed she was forcing them. She’d come in of her own accord thinking this was about the investigation of a dirty cop she was supposedly a part of. Now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be there. Still, she moved and Nowakowski and Warren followed her down the hall.
“Rodman says we’re not allowed to eat popcorn during the interview. Might interfere with the equipment,” Sully whispered as he and Sully followed Rodman into the hall.
Marty had brought in strombolis from Reggie’s for lunch. Colt’s was sitting like a weight in his gut. Popcorn would take him over the edge.
He didn’t answer Sully as they walked into the room next to interrogation two. Cheryl was already seated, her purse on the table by her side. Nowakowski had decided to sit across from her. Warren, younger and far better looking than Nowakowski, was completely different than he was in the interview with Ryan. He was sitting at the side of the table. His pose was relaxed, the tutor there to help with prompts and provide support. Nowakowski was the professor who’d ask difficult questions on a test that, if she failed, she’d be fucked.
Nowakowski opened a folder and pulled out Denny and Marie’s wedding photo, flipped it around and set it down in front of Cheryl. Already pale and visibly uncertain, the wedding photo was an act of cruelty. With one look at her face when she saw the photo, Colt knew she had no idea Denny was married, now or ever.
“Ms. Sheckle, do you know this man?”
Eyes glued to the photo, she swallowed then nodded.
“Who is he?”
“Lieutenant Alec Colton,” she answered then went on hurriedly, her eyes lifting, “I mean, Alexander. His name is –”
“Lieutenant Alexander Colton was standing outside, Ms. Sheckle,” Nowakowski interrupted her. “The tall man with the dark hair. Did you see him?”
She shook her head and looked at Warren then she leaned forward. “Okay,” she started, her voice a loud whisper, “I don’t know what you guys think but that man out there is no good. Okay? Alec told me he’s dirty. You need to find Alec. Something’s wrong.”
“Alec was standing outside, Ms. Sheckle, would you like me to ask him to come in, show you his credentials?” Nowakowski asked.
“No!” she cried, leaning back but putting her hands, palms down, flat on the table. “No, you have to listen to me. Alec told me he’s –”
Nowakowski leaned forward and tapped Denny’s photo, his tone had changed. It was quiet, even gentle when he said, “Cheryl, can I call you Cheryl or would you prefer Candy?”