He pulled on her hair, bringing her lips to his. “No.”
The spell shattered. They were back to square one. The only thing Ty Jamerson and she had in common was great sex. If he couldn’t trust her enough to fill her in on the facts regarding her father, then he was no longer welcome in her bed.
“Please leave.”
Ty didn’t waste a moment. He was up and dressed before she could roll over. “How lucky for you, I made it easy,” she said. “This time you don’t have to skulk out in the early morning hours.”
He fastened his belt, his dark brows furrowed. “I owe you an apology for that. I thought it would be easier. I haven’t changed my mind. After this case, I’m transferring out.”
“Easy come, easy go, Jamerson. It’s what you do.”
He raked his fingers through his long hair. “Yeah, it’s what I do.”
Desperation washed over her; she didn’t want him to leave, yet she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. Holding onto an unwilling man was like chaining a tiger. “Take that fish with you. He doesn’t like me.”
Ty stopped at the door. “He’d like me less.”
For a long moment, he stood silent and she felt the hard rush of tears. Twice now she’d cried because of this man, and twice now he was walking out on her.
She wouldn’t ask him to stay, especially when she was the one to tell him to leave. Be careful what you ask for, Phil, you just might get it.
“I’ll see you at the club tonight,” Phil said softly.
A single tear slid down her cheek.
He opened his mouth as if to argue, but he quickly shut it. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
He turned then, and walked out of her life.
Just like that, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.
Phil threw the pillow at the wall. “Bastard,” she shrieked. “Bastard,” she said more softly.
For the second time that night, tears fell. She cried for her father, for her mother, for herself, and most of all for Ty. He was a walking emotional wasteland, a man of honor in his own way. One capable of giving so much…yet holding back so much more. Because deep down inside, she knew while she’d been looking to blame someone, anyone, for pulling the trigger killing her father, Ty wasn’t the guilty party. Her father had made the choice.
It was time to put her cop face on with her father and face the cold hard facts. She swallowed hard and realized her image of him would be forever tarnished with the acceptance of his deeds. Mac wasn’t entirely blameless. He’d committed adultery; he’d destroyed her mother’s faith in him and their marriage. No wonder she had receded so far into her mind.
Phil admitted the ugly truth, yet she didn’t love her father any less. She knew her father was guilty of adultery, but assault and pandering? No, Mac hadn’t sunk that low.
She sank back into the sheets, hugging the second pillow close, inhaling Ty’s warm woodsy scent. As much as she wanted to stay on the case, she wasn’t sure she could work with Ty any longer.
She startled at the knock on her door. Ty! She threw on her robe and dashed to the front door, flinging it open.
“Candi! What are you doing here?” And how the hell had she found her address?
Tears streamed down the little dancer’s face. “I saw Ty leave.”
Gently, Phil pulled Candi into the house. “I’m sorry, Candi.” Phil led her into the kitchen and sat her down at the small table.
“Can I have a drink of water?” Candi asked between sobs.
As Phil turned to the fridge for a bottle of water, the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked got her attention. Phil stopped in mid-stride.
“Turn around real slow, Officer Zorn.”
Phil did just that. “My name is Kat—”
“Save it for the next idiot.” Candi’s blue eyes blazed, the sweet innocent dancer gone. In her place a harpy stood.
“Sit down. You’re going to write a letter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
T
y drove like a fiend possessed, his flight instinct strong, his fight instinct gone. When the going got tough, Ty got going, as far away from emotional entanglements as he could get. He could still see Phil’s tragic dark blue eyes blinking back tears.
Son of a bitch!
The feelings battling inside him were enough to make a sane person crazy. If this was love, the world could fucking have it! Love? Holy shit. He slammed on the brakes and pulled to the side of the road. Not love. He didn’t know the meaning of the word, just that he was sure as hell he’d never felt it and no one had ever expressed it to him.
He thought of life without Phil. His gut twisted, the thought more than unpleasant. It was downright depressing. No one had ever mattered enough, only his mother, and after a while her memory faded and he stopped wishing for what could have been.
He gunned the truck back onto the road, continuing his flight path. He couldn’t go back, he had a case to work, and while he was so close, he feared that if he told Phil about her father, all of her emotions would overrule her training and she’d screw up everything. No, he needed to keep focused, for everyone’s sake.
Maybe, after the case was closed, they could try. He gritted his teeth. He was locked into the state department for the next two years on a state-sponsored UC sting. He’d made the call that morning.
You don’t have to take the job, you can stay in house, he thought.
His knuckles whitened against the steering wheel. He pressed his foot harder on the pedal. He wasn’t willing to put his heart on the line just to have it thrown back in his face. Besides, Phil hated him. The thought of her rejecting him was too much. He remembered the feelings from the years with his mother. The lasting hurt wasn’t worth the momentary pleasure.
Their positions now reversed, Phil sat at the kitchen table as Candi trained the Sig in her hand on Phil’s chest.
“You’re going to write Ty a Dear John letter.” Candi pulled a folded sheet of paper and a pen from her back pocket and tossed it onto the table. “I’ll tell you what to write.”
Phil looked up at the cagey blonde. “Why are you doing this?”
Candi smiled and waved the gun. “For the oldest reason in time. I want Ty, he wants you, I’m getting rid of you, me and Lola get Ty. Not to mention there’s a market for your type.”
Phil shivered as the fine hair on her arms rose. How could she have been so blind?
“
You
picked the girls?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I picked them and Mr. Sal picked them up.”
Goose bumps scattered across Phil’s flesh. “Who is Sal?”
Candi smirked and rolled her eyes. “Do I really come across as a moron?”
“You did it before Ty came into the picture. Why, Candi?”
She waved the gun at Phil. “Dear Ty.”
Phil didn’t move. “Write, bitch! ‘Dear Ty, I feel confused about us.’”
Phil began to write, changing her handwriting from her usual style.
Candi continued, “I need time to figure it all out. I’m leaving. Please don’t try to contact me.”
As Phil slowly wrote the words, Candi talked, her voice high and sharp. “Lola’s dad threatened to take Lola away. I couldn’t let that happen, so when I was approached by Mr. Sal to pay me big bucks to make a few inquires regarding new dancers, I figured what the hell.”
“You didn’t know he was going to kidnap them?”
“Not at first, but after he gave me more money than I’d ever seen, I was okay with it. Besides, he told me they wanted to see the world and he was showing them.”
Phil’s hand stopped writing. “Do you know where they are?”
“Maybe.” Candi stuck the gun between her eyes. “Keep writing.” She smiled, genuinely amused.
“Cooperate and I promise you a deal.”
Candi laughed. “No deals, just write.”
When Phil began to write again, Candi stepped back.
“Tell me where they are,” Phil said, glancing up from the paper.
Candi shrugged. “He has a contact in San Francisco. He sends them over to Saudi Arabia or somewhere. Those sheiks like American girls, and that being the case, they’re sure gonna like you.”
Phil’s stomach roiled like a battery of fire ants marching through her gut. “C’mon, Candi, a deal. You and Lola can start over. Give me the contact in the city.”
Candi’s eyes glittered. “Does Ty come as part of the package?”
“No.”
“Then no deal.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I have and I will. Now sign it, then get up.”
Phil signed the paper, her letters perfectly formed instead of her usual scribble.
She slowly stood and waited for Candi to come in a little closer. Phil had size, experience, and strength on her side, not to mention she was in a fight for her life.
Candi wagged the gun, her hand tilted, the weight of the weapon taking its toll. “Why couldn’t you leave Ty alone, Kat?”
Phil shrugged and watched the blonde’s wrist sag under the weight of the gun.
“He’s hard to resist.”
Phil pounced the minute she said the last word, catching the blonde completely off guard. Grabbing Candi’s wrist, she wrenched it and the stripper’s fingers loosened. Candi screamed, twisting away from Phil. Gripping Candi’s wrist with both hands, Phil violently shook her. The gun hit the floor with a thud and they both dove for it. Phil was closer and she grabbed it, pulling it to her belly, then rolled over and pointed it at Candi.
“I’ll shoot you in a heartbeat, Candi.”
“And leave Lola motherless?”
“Lola lost her mom the day she was paid for the first girl. She’ll be better off with her father.”
Candi shrieked. “Her father’s a prick! You can’t do this to me!”
“Turn over Mr. Sal and I’ll make sure the DA goes easy on you.”
Candi visibly paled. “He’ll kill me.”
“Who is he, Candi?”
Candi’s eyes widened and she looked past Phil. Her face lost more color.
“I believe we’ve met, Philamina.”
Phil’s blood ran cold. Her nightmare worsened. She stood and backed away from Candi, then slowly she turned. “Captain Dettmer?”
He nodded. The nickel-plated semi in his hand reflected the ceiling light. “Candi, be a good girl and take the gun from Officer Zorn.”
Candi snatched it out of her hand. Submissively, she cowered. “I wasn’t going to tell her, I swear.”
Dettmer smiled. His yellow teeth caught the ceiling light in an ugly glare. “I know you weren’t, Candi. You know what would happen to Lola if you did.”
“You were in the club tonight,” Phil said.
“You read the note. Did you doubt it?”
Phil cursed. Despite his cover, she’d recognized him. She hadn’t believed her own eyes. Once again, she’d ignored her instincts. She promised herself then and there she would never question them again—
if
she survived this nightmare.
“You were leaving the note on my door when I opened it.”
His grin widened. “I made a quick recovery, wouldn’t you say?”
“Why, Captain?”
He tsked and stepped closer. His dark eyes glowed malevolently. “Full of questions, just like Mac. It’s what got him killed, you know.”
Phil’s chest ached. “What?”
Dettmer smiled. “There you go again.” His eyes raked her from head to toe. “You look like a woman who’s been recently well fucked.”
Candi gasped.
“I have plans for you, Philamina. For the both of us.” He had the look of a lunatic. Phil backed away. “I tried getting rid of that most interfering lieutenant of yours,” Dettmer continued. “I was sure they’d nail him for Mason.”
“
You
killed Scott?”
He smiled. “I didn’t think you’d lie to IA, Phil. I know Jamerson left here well before eight
A
.
M
. But you lied to protect him. And he lied to protect you. How sweet. That man doesn’t have a decent bone in his body and all of a sudden, he has integrity? You must be one hell of a treat in bed.”
“How did my father die?”
“He put the barrel of a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.” Dettmer laughed. “I watched.”
“Why?” she whispered, pain tightening her chest.
“Because, Phil, Mac was on the verge of exposing him.” Ty’s deep voice startled them all.
He stood at the entryway to the kitchen, each hand filled with a Sig.
As cool as an ice cube, Dettmer laughed. “Ah, the prodigal stud returns.”
“You’ve been found out, Captain,” Ty said, the barrel of his gun aimed at Dettmer’s chest.
Dettmer chuckled, unshaken. “So it would seem.” The next instant Dettmer pulled the same trick Phil had earlier on Candi. He dove for Phil.
Confusion reined. In the blur of it, Phil ducked out of Dettmer’s reach, heard Ty’s yells to move away, and Candi’s shrieks, followed by two gunshots.
Candi’s body fell back on her, knocking her to the floor. In the fight for her life, knowing there was nothing she could do for Candi if she were hit, Phil grabbed the gun from her lax fingers.
She rolled away and popped up on her knees, training the gun on Dettmer, who leaned against the far wall of the kitchen, his free hand pressed to the spreading red stain on his shoulder, the gun in his other hand pointed right at Phil’s head. Ty stepped deeper into the room, both barrels trained on their captain. Phil slowly stood up.
Fleetingly, she realized she hadn’t been hit and then wondered why the hell the dancer had shot Dettmer. He was her ticket out of there.
They stood in her kitchen, Phil, Ty, and Dettmer in the classic Mexican standoff.
“Mac,” Ty explained to Phil, “was set up from the get-go. Dettmer had us all believing your old man went rogue.”
“What changed your mind?” Phil asked, not taking her eyes off the dirty cop.
“Mac had tapes. Margery kept them for him. But Dettmer knew something was up, and he kept Margery from her daughter. Dettmer got Margery hooked on heroin. He had her turned into a junkie in less than a week. She turned on Mac. Dettmer had complete control. He used Margery to get to Mac.”
“Was my father unfaithful to my mother?”
Dettmer laughed. “He was as close to unfaithful as you could get. He took that addict under his wing and that scrawny daughter of hers and kept them. I caught them in bed one night. Not sex, just Mac acting like the knight in shining armor. I took a picture and threatened to tell your mother.