"And we'll be watching you like a hawk." The other cop leaned in, his breath smelling of stale coffee.
"Like a stalker? Should I file a report now or wait until you show the level of inappropriateness that I'm starting to think you're capable of?"
"You better watch your mouth, pretty girl. You think because you tried to clean yourself up and get a real job that we don't know who you are? The file on you is thicker than most of the thugs that we bust and send to the slammer most nights. You're no different. Trash... just trash and we're going to find out what you did." The Italian cop shrugged and moved to the door, holding it open for his partner. "Want to rethink your statement?"
"Nope. Your opinion is simply that. Go find the fact and then come back to me." Kate shrugged and looked down to her fingers, picking at the blood under her nails as if it were so much more important than their accusations.
They left the room with resounding chuckles. She waited until they were gone to let her shoulders slump, the weight of the night riding her hard. Losing Adam in front of her was enough to emotionally cripple her, but to be suspected of his murder? He was a kid. He was a dumb kid, but still just a teenager nevertheless. They had smoked together a few times and she knew he had a horrible crush on her, but nothing else. She cared for him like she would if he were her own brother, Kate having grown up an only child.
He was just thirteen when they met, a kid on the run from a hard life with no dad and an overbearing Jesus-loving mother. He had mentioned a brother, but she hadn't gotten the chance to meet him, not that she wanted to. He was supposedly Billy-bob do good. Always bringing out the worst in Adam and leaving the poor boy to feel like the piece of shit everyone thought he was.
"Wonder if he even knew how much Adam loved to draw?"
Kate looked up as the door opened, a portly brunette nodding at her. "You can go. They will be in touch as soon as all of the DNA results are back and they've finished the investigation. You might have a few people stop by your club over the next few weeks with follow-up questions."
"Not during the hours of eight pm to four am. It's too busy." Kate stood and moved toward the door.
"That's not for you to choose, toots. They come by when they want to. You’re implicated in the murder of a young boy. I'm pretty sure your desires and wishes aren't at the top of our list." The lady laughed and moved down the hall slowly. Kate kept her pace, slowing only when she reached the counter. She could assume Adam died on the way to the hospital, but needed to hear it.
"Did the boy live or is he gone?"
"You don't know?"
"I can assume the worst, but I'd rather not."
"He died in the alley with you. The ambulance couldn't resuscitate him. Too much blood loss. Did you not know that you needed to apply pressure to the wounds?" The woman rolled her eyes, her lip lifting as she snarled.
Kate lifted her hands, palms out to the woman. "How many hands do I have?"
"I'm not in the mood for games."
"Me either. Give me my shit and answer my question."
"Two, obviously." The woman sat down in her chair, the small thing groaning with her weight.
"Right, and he had five bullet holes in his chest. I'll let you do the math. You seem bright." Kate took her wallet, her keys to the club and her license. "Where is my gun?"
"It's state’s evidence until you're told otherwise."
"That's bullshit. I just bought that. I need it."
"Well, sorry Missy. You're out of the killing business until it gets back from forensics." The woman shrugged and turned her back to Kate.
She would never outlive her reputation, her file forever labeling her a villain. She took her stuff and walked out of the police station, the streets quiet around the highly illuminated building. She needed a ride home, but no damn way she was asking one of them. Glancing to her right, she thought about walking the twelve miles, but her face was too well known in the narcotics circles, her past choices having pissed off a few too many people.
She had made peace a long time ago with living in constant danger, but to stick her hand in the viper’s mouth and taunt him... never. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and texted Marcus that she was free and would be at the small diner across from the station.
Looking left and right, she jogged out into the street and moved toward the small restaurant. The open all night sign on the front door ushered in a sense of relief. Nothing was worse than being out on the streets for anyone and everyone to see. She paused before slipping into the shop, a dark figure on a motorcycle seemed to be looking in her direction. Did she know him?
She waited a few more seconds to see if he would make a move in her direction, but he simply watched from the darkness. Unable to make him out, she was done watching for awareness or recognition. Whoever he was, he was either interested in her, or knew her. Neither was good in her book.
****
Only a few minutes passed before the roar of Marcus's black mustang caught her attention. She stood up from her seat, dropping a few dollars on the table and walking toward the door. Several cops in the restaurant pinned her with their stares, her appearance ridiculous at best. She looked like she had taken a bath in blood and forgotten to dry off.
She slipped out into the night, pulling off her black t-shirt and slipping out of her shoes and pants before opening the door to the car. In nothing more than a white tank top, her bra and panties, she got in. His eyes moved along her, his hand reaching out to take hers.
"Are you okay? Fucking cops. You go outside to help someone and they drag you the fuck downtown without letting you wash off?"
"I'm fine." She leaned back, covering her face with her hands as she fought back tears. With a shaky breath, she gathered herself and reached down to bunch up her clothes and move them to the floorboard in the back seat. "I'm sorry about the car if anything gets on it."
"Hush. Don't worry about that shit. Tell me what happened. I called Paul. He'll be by tomorrow to work with you on whatever you need."
"I don't want to talk about it, Marcus. Tomorrow I'll fill you in." She squeezed his large hand, releasing it and turning to look out the window as he put the car in reverse. She pulled her legs up, tucking her knees to her chest and resting her forehead on her thighs.
"They didn't hurt you did they? They didn't touch you, right?"
"No. I'm just tired. A long night at the club, then watching someone I cared about bleed..." She paused, warm tears spilling over onto her cheeks as her voice broke. "... he was just a kid. He didn't deserve that shit."
"Katie. You know the world we live in, baby." His hand rubbed her back slowly, the sensation comforting as she fought through the horror of watching Adam die over and over again in her head.
"That doesn't make it any easier." She looked up, wiping at her eyes with the palms of her hands, trying not to smear blood on her face.
Marcus reached back and pulled at his shirt, the black cotton tee slipping over his head. He extended it to her. "Use this."
She took it and pressed the soft material to her face, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.
"Awwww fuck, Kate." He laughed and she chuckled, her tears slowing as he moved his hand from her back onto her arm.
"How likely are they to pin this on me? They wanted it to be me so bad. I could feel it in the air. They were digging and suggesting. I hate those fuckers."
"It would be easy if it were you." He shrugged, moving his hands to hold the steering wheel, his arms locked, thick muscles bunching up.
"I know. I just wish I could be normal. Have a normal life without being worried all the time about who's behind me waiting to slit my throat or bust me for something I didn't do."
Marcus glanced over at her, his hand reaching to brush the back of her hair. "You want to go home with me tonight? Stay with me and let me hold you?"
"No, that doesn't help. Just makes me think about things I can't have."
"Kate."
"I don't want to have this con
versation. I just spent the night being interviewed for gunning down a teenage boy that was in love with me. I'm not talking about your commitment issues and my unwillingness to accept an open relationship. Not happening."
"Fair enough. You sure you want to go home?"
"More than sure." She turned to look back out the window, not wanting to cry in front of him again. They had enough hurt between the two of them that they didn't need to hurt each other again. They would never be anything and she was honestly good with that, but on a night like this one... how badly she wanted companionship, a man to hold her who loved her. Someone to protect her from the world, from the cops... from herself.
They pulled up to the club, Kate reaching back to grab her stuff. She dug her keys from her pants pocket and opened the door.
"You want to get dressed first?"
"No. I'm just going up to the apartment. No one will pay me much attention."
Marcus turned and looked out toward the street, tons of people moving about. "You're kidding me right? It's packed out here. There are people everywhere. The number of horny men outweighs the number of fish in the sea. You're not getting out like that."
"Good night, my friend. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. We can go over the numbers and make orders for the next two weeks. Don't let me forget Mardi Gras is upon us. Let's stock up for that."
"Kate. I'm serious. I'm as hard as a rock because you're in your fucking panties in my car. You're not shaking your ass in front of Bourbon Street."
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, her fingers brushing over his thigh and by his erection. A smile lifted her lips as sadness beckoned her to pale away from anything warm.
"You're not my daddy and you don't care enough to be more than an occasional lover, so you don't get a say in what I do." She kissed his cheek again and got out of the car, the growl following her of no concern at all. They would fuck when she needed him or he needed her. It was their arrangement, or his rather.
He made his bed with her and now he could lie in it - alone.
Chapter 4
Jon
The drizzle from the heavens was more than appropriate as he wrapped his arm around his mother's shoulders, walking toward the church with her. A large black umbrella hovered over them, the wind threatening to take it from him any minute.
"You don't have to go with me, Johnny. I know you're not really a church goer." She glanced over at him, her brown hair an odd tint, always had been.
"It's all right, mom. I've been so busy lately, that getting over to see you has been difficult. I'm barely sleeping thanks to the job."
"World's going to hell in a hand-basket. It's the devil. Plain and simple."
"I agree. Bastard."
"Watch your mouth." She glanced over at him, her lips pursing.
He released her and moved to hold the door for her, moving the umbrella to keep her dry. She slipped into the church and he worked to get the umbrella down before realizing an elderly lady was headed his way without one. He popped it back up and jogged toward her, moving to hold it over her head.
"Your hair looks far too pretty to let the rain get to ya." He winked at her as the elderly woman blushed. She could be his grandmother's age if the sweet little lady was still alive.
"Well isn't this my lucky day. I wish it rained all the time. Just have you follow me around everywhere. I'd be the talk of the town." She giggled as Jon smiled. He held the door and let her get inside.
"I'd do it to." He winked at her as she laughed again.
Dropping the umbrella in a large bin at the front of the church, his mood shifted. It was the candles burning up front in reminder of the deceased, or maybe the soft sound of the choir singing of the promises to come. Something ushered in a sadness of the conversation ahead of him, a reminder that nothing would be the same. Adam was dead.
He walked toward his mom and sat down beside her, adjusting his tie to not choke him so much. She glanced over at him as he slipped his arm behind her and leaned back, focusing on the front of the church. He wasn't interested in answering her silent questions just yet. They could talk later. His stomach turned at the thought.
The pastor moved up to the pulpit as Jon's eyes glazed over and memories took over. So many nights he and Adam had stayed up late, Jon trying to scare Adam with stories, or burp louder than each other. So many times Jon had tried to tell his little brother of his own dicked up experiences so that maybe Adam would be wiser with his decisions.
Everything changed when Dad died.
"God didn't make you judge over the world. He is the supreme redeemer and he alone will judge each of us. You have no place or right to impose your subjugation of those around you. You deserve death for your sins as do the rest of us." The pastor pounded the pulpit as Jon came to, the man's words stinging him. He needed to see more on this woman that was with Adam the night before.
Was she a good Samaritan? Just there to help while he bled to death? Did Adam know her? Did he seek her out?
"That's ridiculous," Jon mumbled. His mom reached over and popped him, as a few people around them turned to look back at him. "Sorry."
He glanced toward his mother and shrugged, his thoughts making their way out for all to hear. Jon focused on the choir, trying to keep himself locked in the present. His desire to know what this woman looked like tugged him away again. His partner on the force said she was gorgeous, a looker for sure.
That didn't matter, but it wouldn't hurt anything either. He hadn't paid much attention to anyone for the last few years. Climbing to the top of the ladder at the police station was all that mattered. He bled his lust out in the gym, working his body to fatigue day in and day out.
Whether or not the girl was attractive was irrelevant. He needed to find his brother's killer and she was either it, or knew something about it. Something inside of him purred at the truth of his thoughts.
****
"Do you want to come to the house and have lunch with me?" Jon's mother reached for the umbrella, taking it from him as they walked to the car. He bumped his head on it a few times before taking it back and grumbling at her.
"I can't. I have to meet Seth." He stopped by her car and reached out to touch her arm. "Mom, I need to talk to you about something."
"Is it Adam again? That boy never stops getting in trouble. He has to know that God is saddened by his actions."
"I don't know about all that, but he was in a shooting last night."
"Oh no. Did he kill someone?" His mother lifted her hand to her face, her eyes wide, fingers over her thin lips.
"No mom. Someone was shooting at him. I think he got wrapped up in drugs and owed someone money."
"Was he hit?" She paled visibly. "Is he in the hospital?"
"He didn't make it, mom." Jon reached out and touched her arm as she wavered. "Let me take you home."
"No. I'm going to be fine. I just need to process this. I knew he was due punishment for his actions. I just kept praying that God would give him another chance."
"Mom, I'm pretty sure that God doesn't punish people by offing them. This was just some really bad guys looking for their money."
"Of course God does. Your brother got what was coming to him. If he just would have repented." The first sign of tears was welcomed. Jon reached out and hugged her, not willing to fight about it.
She and her condemning Jesus were half the reason his brother ran away from home so early. He could never do right, never measure up. The God his mother knew was nothing like the one Jon studied in the Bible as a boy or debated with the guys on the force about. She had it all wrong, but no one would tell her that. It would be a waste of time and breath.
"I love you. I'll call you later. You sure you're going to be okay?"
"My baby died a long time ago, Jon. I haven't seen Adam in three or four years." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "He's in a better place for sure, at least I hope he is."
"I'm sure he is, mom. Call if you need me." Jon turned and swallowed his resp
onse to her words. He didn't stop by or call much because she had turned her faith into a weapon, a sword that sliced deep and took no prisoners.
It wasn't Adam he was worried about ending up in heaven and knowing God. It was his mom.
****
"So, how did it go?" Seth leaned back in the booth they sat in, his soda in his hand, a pensive look on his face.
"Much better than I thought it would. I guess I expected her to lose her shit or act like she cared a little."
"Your sixty-something-year-old mother didn't care that your baby brother got murdered last night?" Seth raised his eyebrow and snorted. "That's fucked up, dude."
"She's a little off sometimes. I think it will hit her later." Jon picked up the menu as the waitress approached, the girl thin and far too young to be sporting such little clothing.
"Hi boys. What can I get you?"
"I'll have a burger, plain and dry. Side of ketchup and fries." Seth smiled up at the girl, Jon giving him a look to tell him to cut that shit out. He was eying her like she was something to bend over the nearest counter.
"I'll have a turkey sandwich. Hold the mayo and I'll take a cup of soup. Whatever you guys recommend is fine." Jon lifted the menu without looking at her. The weight of her stare pressed against him, but he ignored her until she sighed softly and walked off.
"What the fuck, dude? That girl totally wanted to spread it for you."
"Seth. Come on, man. I'm not interested in boning some sixteen-year-old chick who's probably high on meth in a diner in the shitty side of town."
"You think she's on drugs?"
"Did you see how thin she was? That wasn't normal 'take care of your body' thin. She's on something."
"Shit. That's nasty."
"Give me the file on the girl involved in Adam's death and stay out of my sex life. It's none of your damn business." He smiled and reached for the file a little too fast.
Seth jerked it back and laughed before handing it over. "Get ready for this. She's as hot as hell. No thin druggie here. She's got thick curves and long black hair."
Stealing First: (A Bad Boy Single Father Billionaire Novel) Page 62