“The captain is calling the shots, not me. I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”
Not what Victor wanted to hear. “Roy told Zoe that he was going to trade her for Michelle.”
Cain’s eyelids flickered.
“You said she went dark. Roy was willing to kidnap and kill because he thought Michelle’s life was on the line. If you’ve got a cop out there—one who is in mortal danger—why the hell isn’t your captain acting?”
“Because he’s afraid everything is about to blow up in his face!” Cain glanced angrily toward the captain’s closed office door. “The guy knows that he should have pulled Michelle at the first sign of trouble. He didn’t. And now he’s trying to cover his ass.”
“I can get you FBI assistance.” Victor kept his voice calm with a supreme effort. “I can help you, but first you have to help me.”
Cain yanked a hand through his hair. “Why are you still in town? I figured you’d vanish as soon as you had your lady back.”
He did want to vanish. But… “Zoe came here to find her friend. She’s even more convinced now that Michelle is in danger.”
Surprise widened Cain’s eyes. “But she knows Michelle is a cop.”
“Doesn’t matter. Zoe wants to find her.”
Cain’s hand lowered to rest near his holster. “And let me guess…you want to make Zoe happy, right? If she gets what she wants, then she’s more likely to trust you. To cooperate with you. To turn on her father and do whatever the hell you—”
“I don’t want her crying because her friend is dead.” Cold, brutal. “I don’t want her hurting because she blames herself for something happening to Michelle.”
Cain seemed to absorb that.
“So you going to work with me?” Victor waved his hand around the precinct. “Or should I just go over your captain’s head, too? Maybe the FBI does need to take jurisdiction. I’m sure I can. After all, it was my case that was jeopardized. My witness that was taken and nearly killed.”
“Dammit…” Cain’s frustration was obvious.
Victor smiled at him. “Get me face-to-face with Roy. Do it now or I will use every bit of pull I have to take total control here.” Yeah, he was a bastard, and, right then, he didn’t care.
Zoe. I’m doing this for Zoe.
This…and so much more.
***
“Five minutes,” Cain muttered as he directed Victor toward an isolated cell in the back of the holding area. “We have five minutes back here, and then our asses are toast.”
Victor looked through those bars and saw Roy rising to his feet. He gave the bastard a grim smile. “I guess we meet again.”
“No!” Roy held up his hands. “I’m not talking to you. I’m not talking to anyone but my lawyer.” His face was bruised, one eye nearly shut. His nose swollen. His upper lip busted.
“Do you really care about Michelle?” Victor asked him. “Or was that some bullshit line you fed Zoe?”
Roy jumped toward the bars. “I love her!”
So much for talking only to his lawyer. With guys like Roy, it was all about knowing which buttons to push. “You love her and the two million you were going to get for Zoe?”
“Michelle was going to die!” Spittle flew from Roy’s mouth. “What was I supposed to do? Zoe was made when she headed into Dice. The wrong person saw her. Why do you think that other hitter was already in the alley? She was made. In this town, danger is always two fucking steps behind you, so you have to learn how to walk real fast.”
Victor had wondered about that man in the alley. Had the hitman been in the shadows of Dice? Just outside, watching? But Victor would question that would-be shooter, soon enough. For now, his focus was on Roy.
Roy’s cheeks flushed. “I got a call from some guy, okay? Right after you two made the mistake of going into Dice. Fellow said he was at the Vine. Guy promised me that if I brought Zoe to him, then Michelle could live and I’d get the pay.”
Cain was silent. Did he buy the guy’s story? Victor didn’t. “The Vine…” Victor repeated the name even as he made the connection. He’d seen the sign for the place when he and Zoe first arrived in town.
“That’s where Michelle went to work,” Roy said quickly. “That casino—it’s a front, I know it. And when I got the call, telling me to bring Zoe if I ever wanted to see Michelle again, I-I just stopped thinking clearly. Panic took over.”
“When did you get the call?”
“Like I already told you—right after you walked into Dice.” He licked his lips. “Someone saw Zoe. Someone made the connection. I was told to get her, and I did.”
“When was the exchange supposed to take place?”
Roy’s stare jerked between him and Cain. “What will happen to me?” Roy asked. “I was a good cop…”
“When was the exchange supposed to take place?”
“I don’t know! I was told I’d get another call. That’s what I was waiting for at that motel! But then you assholes took me into custody!” His voice rose as he yanked on the bars. “So I didn’t get the second call! I didn’t make the trade! And Michelle is going to die!”
Was the guy telling the truth? Or just making a desperate attempt to dig himself out of the serious shit-hole he’d already dug? Victor gave a grim nod. “Okay, let’s go back and take this story from—”
“You’re not taking anything.” The voice was smooth, smug, and coming from right behind him. “My client is done talking with you.”
Hell. He should have known that a lawyer would show up to spoil his fun. Victor threw a glance over his shoulder. “If your client wants to keep talking, that’s his choice.”
The brown-haired male in the suit that reeked of money smiled a bit, a faint curving of his lips. That smile didn’t reach his cold eyes. “My client isn’t talking because I don’t want him spending the rest of his life in a prison surrounded by inmates who want nothing more than to get payback on the cop in their midst.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Roy mumbled. “Jesus.”
“You’re done here,” the lawyer said to Victor. “I need to confer with my client.”
Victor turned to fully face the attorney. His gaze swept over the man, head to toe, taking his stock, not liking the guy at all with his stiff posture and cold eyes. “Didn’t catch your name,” Victor murmured.
“And I didn’t catch yours.” But
the lawyer stepped forward, offering his hand.
Victor took that hand. “FBI Special Agent Victor Monroe.”
Once again, that faint smile appeared. Only this time, the lawyer’s eyes hardened. “I’m Xavier Winters. But my friends call me Tom.”
Sonofabitch.
***
He was so screwed.
Roy Duncan hunched over against the cell bars. He’d thought that he could get away clean. Get the money. Get his girl. And ride away into the sunset.
Now his ass was locked in a jail cell.
Cops couldn’t go to prison. Everyone knew that. Everyone knew the shit that waited for them in those hellholes. He couldn’t go down like that. There had to be a way out.
Footsteps padded on the concrete floor. His eyes locked on the dark-haired guy heading his way—the guy who’d identified himself as Roy’s attorney. Only the problem was that Roy had never seen that man in his life. The fellow sure as shit wasn’t his lawyer.
“Now that the FBI agent is gone, how about we talk privately?” The attorney smiled at him. Some dude in a fancy suit, with perfect features and an old money vibe rolling off him. As Roy stared at the fellow, the lawyer’s head inclined toward the uniformed cop who watched from a nearby corner. “Total privacy would be best.”
Roy got the message, loud and clear. The attorney wanted the uniform gone. Fine. Roy nodded. “Leave us alone,” he told the cop.
The uniform hesitated.
“I’m locked up! What the hell do you think I’ll do? Give us privacy!” Because Roy wanted to know who this fellow was…
And how he could use him.
The uniform glared at Roy, but backed away.
The lawyer smirked at Roy.
“Xavier Winters,” Roy murmured, trying to place the name but coming up blank. “Funny, I don’t remember hiring you.”
Xavier laughed. “That’s probably a good thing because, you see, my normal rates are very, very high.”
What was going on?
“But don’t worry. I have a special deal for you, Officer Duncan.” Xavier sidled closer to the bars. “I think you and I can help each other.”
“How the hell are you supposed to help me?” Try bribing a judge. Maybe that would work.