“I’m also guessing…” Another hard breath. “That Curtis Thatch didn’t plan to let Charles—or any of you—walk out of that room.”
“You’re the up-and-coming D.C. detective,” Ethan murmured. “Aren’t you the one who is always figuring out how the criminals think? If you believe that was his plan…”
“Don’t give me that crap. You don’t need to sugarcoat with me.”
“You’re a cop. That means I always have to sugarcoat.”
Her mouth tightened. “You know how I am, Ethan. No matter what happens, I try to be fair. Yeah, I might have spent some time trying to nail your ass to the wall, but I go by the book, always.”
One of the things he respected about her. Staring into her eyes, Ethan said, “There were two reasons why I called you in from D.C.”
Faith lifted a brow.
“First is family. Your family isn’t as shit-twisted as mine, so I knew you would want to be there for Charles. Favorite cousin and all that…”
“How the hell long did you know he was FBI?” Faith demanded.
Seriously? “I knew day one. And really, you should have realized that. I have sources, and I’m sure no idiot.” The fact that she thought he’d been in the dark so long was just insulting. “But I figured having an FBI agent as a guard could be a good thing. At least he wouldn’t go crazy and try to kill me.” Like my last bodyguard.
“Ethan…” A warning edge had entered her voice.
He ignored the warning. “You didn’t answer my question before. Is your cousin okay?”
“Yes.” For a moment, it almost seemed as if her eyes misted. “He’ll be playing bench for the Bureau during the next few weeks, but he’s going to make it. And I’m pretty sure I have you to thank for that, don’t I?”
“No, actually, you need to thank Carly Shay. She’s the one who stopped Curtis Thatch before he could fire again. And I want to be very clear, Curtis was going to fire again. He had that gun aimed, and he was just about to pull the trigger. My money says he was taking either a head or heart shot that time, but Carly stopped him. She tackled him. They both hit the floor, and Curtis lost that gun.” His lips curled. “And Charles lived to play an undercover operative again another day.”
She started tapping her foot. “You only listed one reason.”
He waited. The bars were between them and no guards were in sight.
“What was the second reason you called me?”
“Carly Shay.”
Her head tilted to the right as she studied him.
“You might just be the best cop I ever met.” And he wasn’t just trying to flatter her. “In terms of detectives I trust…hell, you are the one that comes to mind. You want me locked up because you think I’m a criminal.”
“Uh, you are.”
“But it’s not political with you. You’re not on the take. Never have been, and I don’t think you ever will be.”
She backed up a step. “You’ve had me investigated. That’s how you knew my cousin was FBI.”
His hands curled around the bars. “They aren’t going to let me out of here. Charles heard me confess to crimes—well, let’s just say my past will come to a most unsavory light. Even the strings I pulled before, they aren’t going to save me. I’ll go down, and when that happens, Carly will be alone.”
She blinked at him. “You just said you knew I wasn’t on the take—so why does it sound as if you’re trying to set me up for some kind of bribe or—”
He laughed, cutting her off. “No bribe. Not you.” His laughter died. They needed to be clear here. “I’m just talking about a payback. Carly was the one who saved Charles. Now I want you to help save her.” He fought to keep the emotion out of his voice. Emotion wouldn’t help any. “She can’t be charged with crimes. Go talk to her. Convince her to make any deal she needs. Then help to get her some place safe.”
Faith shook her head. “That’s all above my paygrade, and you know it. I’m not Witness Protection or—”
“I know who your lover is, Faith. I know you and Will Hawthorne have been involved for a very long time, and I get why you don’t go public. You don’t want anyone to ever say you slept your way to the top, and honestly, anyone dumb enough to say that deserves to have the shit kicked out of them.”
She swallowed.
“But Will Hawthorne has strings he can use.” Hawthorne was a freaking powerhouse financially and politically. “And for you, he’d use them. He’d help to get her a new start, and you know it. She doesn’t deserve to be hunted. She’s a good person. Always has been. She just had the bad luck to get tangled up with bad things—” He broke off, laughing roughly. “Me. I was her bad thing.” But he wouldn’t be, not any longer.
“I don’t understand you.”
He shrugged. “Most people don’t.”
“Why do I get the feeling that Carly Shay does?”
Once more, he saw Carly as she’d been—on the floor, blood on her—Curtis’s blood—and horror on her face. “Yes,” he said, voice hard and gruff. “I think she does.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Faith turned away. She’d taken two steps when she stopped and glanced back. “Tell me that you’ve called Sophie.”
“Worried about me?”
“You’ve called Sophie.”
“There are some things that even Sophie can’t fix.” An FBI agent had heard his confession. And Carly had looked at him as if he were the devil himself. “I’m done.”
She gave a low, long whistle, then headed out. The door groaned once more as she left.
He put his forehead on the bars and wondered how he’d gotten to this place. Had he always been destined for hell? Or had he just driven himself straight there without looking at other options?
Fuck it. Can’t change the past. Can’t change me. But Carly will be okay, and that is all that matters.
Carly.
***
Detective Faith Chestang pulled out her phone the minute she was outside of the PD. She had Sophie’s telephone number in her contact list—okay, so maybe she and Sophie met for coffee once a week—and she dialed the other woman, fast.
When Sophie answered, Faith said, “I think Ethan Barclay has gone insane.” Because unless she was wrong, it looked as if the guy wasn’t going to fight any of the charges that could be pending against him. “You might want to get your butt on the next plane or train and get to NY.”
Because Ethan was right about one thing—she was a good cop. And as a good cop, she wasn’t going to just stand by and watch him crash and burn.
He’d killed Curtis Thatch, yes, but he’d done that while saving her cousin. And as for Quincy Atkins…
Word on the street was that a video tape had been recovered from Thatch’s hotel room. A video that showed Quincy’s murder.
She wanted to see that tape. So how was she going to get her hands on it?
***
Ethan was lying on the cot in his cell when he heard the groan of that door a few hours later. Footsteps headed toward him. Heavy. Hard.
Not Faith, her step was ever so much lighter.
He kept his eyes closed. The cell’s lights had remained on as the day waned and night grew. An a
nnoyance, but one that hadn’t really bothered him. After all, sleep was the last thing he wanted.
In sleep, he feared the nightmares might come. Nightmares in which he didn’t save Carly.
Sonofabitch.
“Aren’t you going to say something, Agent Monroe?” Ethan finally murmured, still with his eyes shut. He could practically feel the other guy, standing just beyond his cell.
Then he heard another sound—the creak of a lock turning.
His eyelids flew up and he lurched to his feet. The cell door swung open.
“Yeah,” Victor said. “You’re free to go.”
“Bullshit.”
Victor just shrugged. “Your lawyer is finishing up the paperwork, and I’ll need you in for a full recap of events tomorrow—”
“I haven’t given any recap so far.” This wasn’t standard operating procedure. What the hell was happening? “I was just shoved in this hole and left here.” The PD had taken over at the brownstone. They’d taken him to the police station, not to the FBI office, and he’d been locked away. Forgotten?
“Yeah, you were shoved in here, all right. That would be thanks to my order.” Victor offered him a tiger’s smile. “You’re welcome.”
Ethan grunted. “And now I get a free pass?”
“Nothing in this world is free, you should know that. But a man I respect—Charles West—he swore that you had no choice but to kill Curtis Thatch. And after I saw the little video of Quincy Atkins’s murder…”
“So there really was a video?”
“You mean…another copy of the video, right? Because I believe you destroyed the original some time ago.”
Ethan didn’t reply.
Victor cleared his throat. “Any jury that sees that video won’t convict you, and you know it. So maybe I could tie you up with an obstruction charge and unlawful body disposal—if I could even find the body.”
No one would ever find that particular body.
“But then your lawyer—nice, lawyer, by the way—Sophie Sarantos is pretty much hell on wheels.” Admiration lightened his tone.
Sophie? He met Sophie?
“But then your lawyer…” Victor said again, clearing his throat, “would just call up my FBI agent buddy to the stand, and then Charles would talk and tell the jury about how you and Carly Shay saved his ass.” Victor exhaled on a long sigh. “And that’s how you get a hung jury. Or maybe you get jury nullification—who knows which option they’d choose? Either way, you wouldn’t go to prison and tax payers would be out a whole lot of money.”