“He knows you have a dangerous job.”
He took the chair opposite her. “He’s saved my ass on more than one occasion.”
“What he said about endangering the children—”
He cut her off. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
Jess sensed she wasn’t going to like what he said next.
“I need to work,” he began. “I want you and Nicolas to stay here with Father Matthew.”
“No.” The word was out before she could consider the repercussions. But Jess didn’t have to think about it. There was no way she could walk away from this after everything that had happened.
“Nicolas has been through enough.” He glanced toward the little boy. “He needs normalcy. A routine. He’s not going to get that with me.”
“Those things were taken away from him the night someone put a bullet in his mother,” Jess snapped.
“You’re the only adult he knows. He needs you here with him.”
“He can stay with Father Matthew for a few days,” she said. “At least until we figure this out.”
“Jess, this may take more than a few days. My brother is a stranger to him.”
“Madrid, don’t try to manipulate me using that child. I have to get to the bottom of this. Damn it, my life is on the line. I have far too much at stake to hand everything over to you.”
“I’m a trained professional.”
“Then why haven’t you called in your superiors to help you on this?” she shot back.
His jaw went taut. An emotion Jess couldn’t quite decipher flashed in his eyes. Surprise? Regret? It was gone before she had a chance to identify it.
“I’ll contact my superiors when I have something significant to take to them.”
“I’m not going to hide out here at this mission and do nothing, while I’m painted a killer and fugitive. In case you haven’t made the connection, I’m the number-one suspect in Angela’s murder. Evidently the cops think I’m armed and dangerous, because they’re shooting first and asking questions later.”
“Or maybe they want you out of the way.”
That stopped her, but only for an instant. “All the more reason for me to stay involved and get to the bottom of this.”
“You can’t do that if you’re dead!” he shouted.
“I don’t plan on getting myself killed.”
“Like anyone does.” A sigh hissed between his tight lips. “Damn it.”
“Madrid, please don’t lock me out. I’ve been accused of murdering my best friend and kidnapping her son. There are people trying to kill me and I don’t know why. If I can’t clear my name, I’ll be running the rest of my life.”
Cursing, he rose abruptly and strode to the sink to stare out the window. The rain had stopped, but the day remained dreary and damp.
“What we need is a plan,” she said after a moment.
“I have a plan.” He turned back to her, gave her a hard look. “It doesn’t include you.”
“Then change it so that it does.”
“Jess, damn it, it’s dangerous.”
She stared at him, wondering if he didn’t want her involved because he was concerned about her safety or because he thought her incapable. “It’s even more dangerous not to do anything.” When he didn’t speak, she went to him. “I’ve never been one for sticking my head in the sand. Madrid, I need to do this. Please. If I can help, let me help.”
Growling beneath his breath, he went back to the table and sat. “I’ve been running everything that’s happened through my head. Everything goes back to the Lighthouse Point PD.”
She took the chair across from him. “I agree.”
“They’re hiding something.”
“Something Angela found out about. Something she saw. Something Nicolas saw.” She bit her lip. “Something involving that photo?”
Madrid’s gaze latched on to hers. “If you were a cop and you had something to hide, where would you keep it?”
“The safest place I could think of.” Jess felt a prickly sensation on the back of her neck. “Safe deposit box. Home safe.”
He shook his head. “The police station.”
Her eyes widened as realization dawned. “You want to break in to the police station?”
He stared at her, saying nothing.
Jess choked out an incredulous laugh. “That’s suicidal.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“It might be more expedient to just put a pistol to our heads.”
“Too bloody.” He smiled, but there was little humor to it.
“You’re right about one thing,” she said.
He arched a brow.
“Your brother got the better genes.”
“The smarter ones, anyway.” But then he sobered. “Jess, I think the Lighthouse Point PD is into this up to their crew cuts.”
“Into what?”
He tapped the photo Angela had given her. “Whatever this is.”
She stared at the photo for a moment, then at Madrid. “What about Angela’s house?”
“What about it?”