“You know, in this tiny little room, I didn’t think I’d have to show you where the door is?”
Shane leaned in as if hoping the sight of her cleavage would make him go weak. Wrong. Now, there was nothing about this woman he wanted, liked, or admired.
She ran her tongue across her lips. “If you call me later, I’ll dress up like a teacher. Get a ruler.” She leaned in.
Brit backed up and stared her dead in the eyes so she’d know he meant what he was about to say. “Go find someone else to screw, Shane. I’m not your fuck toy.”
Shane looked verbally slapped. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a jerk?”
He watched her leave and his chest ached where his heart used to be. Not a jerk, he thought, but a dickhead. Standing, he didn’t know where he was going. He just couldn’t sit here and wait. Snatching his thin, useless coat from the chair, and headed out. He’d lost his leather jacket and his heart. He was going to miss his jacket. His heart was another matter. He recalled how hurt Cali had looked when he said all those terrible things to her.
“Just like dear ol’ dad,” he muttered.
He didn’t deserve a heart. He sure as hell didn’t deserve her.
Once outside, the damp, cold hit and he made up his mind. As soon as he caught Keith’s killer, he’d go to Mexico. Three weeks of warm weather and good tequila, and he might be able to forget.
~
An hour later, Cali sat down in the metal chair and looked at Stan through the glass. He hadn’t shaven, his hair hung even longer, dirtier, but he seemed thrilled to see her. She studied him and wondered how she could have convinced herself she’d been attracted to him. He pointed to the phone. Cali picked it up on her side of the partition as Stan picked it up on his.
“Hey, babe,” he said and his lips spread in a come-on smile.
Cali didn’t smile back. “I’m not your babe.”
“Ahh, sweetie. You love me and you know it. That’s why you came.”
Cali squared her shoulders. “No. I don’t love you. I never loved you. It may sound callous, but I only got involved with you because my mom was dying and I was scared.”
“Yeah, and I was there for you, too. So now you’ve got to be here for me.”
She shook her head, finding it difficult to speak.
“No,” she said. “You weren’t there for me. You never even asked about my mom. You broke into my apartment, you broke into my car, you broke into my mom’s house. And I’m not here for you.”
She pressed her hand on the cold metal table. “However, I told the DA that I didn’t think you killed those guys, but now I want to hear it from you.”
“I didn’t kill them.” He leaned forward. “I didn’t even hit the old man. I asked them to stop. And I even took the bat and hit the wall, hoping he’d do what they said and not hit him anymore.”
She looked into Stan’s violet eyes and believed him. Even villains had soft spots. Stan cared about the elderly.
“I need your help,” he said. “And you’re going to help me. You owe it to me because if you hadn’t called the police, I’d be free.”
She shook her head and kept shaking it. “I don’t owe you anything. I can’t fix you. As a matter of fact, I’m out of the fix-it business. Good luck, Stan.”
He looked shocked, then he looked angry. “I don’t need fixing. I need a really good lawyer. I know you got some money from your mom.”
Cali sat up straighter. “You’re on your own.”
“You bitch!” he snapped.
She almost hung up, but then brought the phone back to her mouth. “I’m working on it.”
~
Brit was sitting in the bar, staring at his first whiskey, when his cell rang. He didn’t check the number, but he prayed it was news about Keith’s killer.
“Yeah?” he snapped.
“We got a name and address,” Quarles said. “The warrant is being drawn up as we speak. We’re going in.”
He flipped the cell closed, dropped a ten on the counter by his untouched drink and took off.
When he got back to the station, everyone was geared up. Adams tossed him a vest. “Put it on or you don’t come.”
Brit put it on.
On the drive over, they filled him in. The suspect in Keith’s murder, Moses Johnson, was barely eighteen and already head of the new gang. He’d earned his position because he’d been the willing tough guy who took out two cops. But tough guy lived with his eighty-six year old grandma in a low-income neighborhood.
Brit prayed he had a chance to prove to the kid what tough was.