Blood Lines: Edge of Darkness Book 3

by Vanessa Skye

  Arena frowned.

  “I take it from your expression that you don’t know what this is about?”

  Arena raised his thick eyebrows and grabbed the wheel tightly in his large hands. “Why would I know?”

  “Uh, because you’re fucking her? Or is that not the case anymore?”

  Berg had assumed Arena and Carla Maroney’s sex fest was a mutual consolation thing at first, considering the timing of it all, but months later, she had decided it must be growing into something more.

  “Yeah, we’re fucking,” Arena grumbled. “Just fucking.”

  Berg frowned. “What does that mean?”

  Arena snorted. “It means that she was jumping all over herself to marry O’Loughlin. But me? Me she won’t even introduce to her fucking family.”

  “I thought you were fine with just fucking. Since when do you want more?” Berg asked.

  Arena scrubbed one hand through his dark hair and laughed sarcastically. “Since she doesn’t want it from me! I mean, what the fuck is it with O’Loughlin? Does he have a magic dick or something? Because I’ve never had any fucking complaints!”

  Berg stifled a smile. “It’s only been a few months. Chill out. She was probably burnt by the Jay thing—”

  “Meanwhile, I’m sure you and O’Loughlin will be walking down the aisle as soon as you can,” he said, taking his eyes off the road just long enough to peer at her.

  “That’s none of your freaking business,” Berg snapped, scowling.

  Arena smirked. “Touchy. He’s not coming up with a ring? Is that the problem?”

  Berg didn’t bother telling him the problem was the exact opposite. She wasn’t sure how she felt about marriage, but Jay kept asking. Berg sighed and rubbed her temples to avoid exploding. “Just drop me off, Arena, and stow the commentary.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Berg strode into Maroney’s spotless office and cleared her throat.

  Maroney looked up from the paperwork on her desk and fixed her cold, blue-eyed stare on Berg. “Shut the door,” she ordered and stood up, stretching.

  Berg noticed the woman was immaculate, as usual, in her navy-blue pinstriped skirt suit that hugged all the right places and showed just the right amount of long leg and abundant cleavage. She couldn’t help wondering if those plump puppies were real.

  I’ll never understand why Jay chose me over her.

  Maroney tossed her long, wavy blond hair over her shoulder and fished a jingling key ring out of her purse before inserting one key into a solid stainless-steel filing cabinet off to one side of the room.

  Berg closed the door while she was pulling files out.

  The blonde waved toward the chair in front of her desk. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  Berg frowned but did so. “What’s this about, Carla? I have about a thousand cases to get back to. Do you need some kind of clarification on something? Couldn’t we have done this over the phone?”

  Maroney seemed to consider her response before settling back in her padded office chair, the files in her lap. “How’s Jay?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

  “Fine.” The silence stretched on between them, but Berg refused to fill it.

  “I hear you two lost a baby. I’m sorry about that.” She twisted her features into a parody of sorrow.

  Berg sucked in a shocked breath. “How the fuck do you know about that?” Berg and Jay had done their best to keep the information of the unexpected pregnancy and their sad loss twenty weeks in to themselves. “I’m going to fucking kill Arena,” Berg said, clenching her fists.

  It was Carla’s turn to look surprised. “He knew?” She frowned. “He didn’t tell me. It seems he’s still quite loyal to you, despite the fact that he should be loyal to me now. I guess I’ll have to talk to him about that.”

  Berg sat up, leaning over the desk. “How the fuck do you know about the baby?”

  “You’d be surprised at what I know,” Carla said with a smirk.

  “What is this?” Berg asked as Carla dropped three files in front of her with a flourish. Each one made a slap as it hit the desktop.

  “In one file, you’ll see documents I’ve compiled indicating you killed your adoptive father as he lay helpless in the hospital,” Carla said as Berg’s heart stopped beating. “Seems like overkill to me seeing as the man only had weeks to live anyway, but whatever. You forged your mother’s signature on the cremation order to dispose of the body as quickly as possible before the excess morphine in his system was discovered. Since he was Jewish and expected to die anyway, no autopsy was done.” She laughed. “I spoke to the funeral home attendant myself. You must have fucked his brains out, because he remembered exactly who you were, including the uncanny resemblance between your voice and your mother’s. He actually wanted me to pass his number on to you.”

  Fuck.

  “In the other file, you’ll find documentation I gathered showing you drove Elizabeth Young to commit suicide.”

  Berg closed her eyes. She didn’t need Carla to tell her what was in the third file, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop the wretched woman from speaking.

  “The third contains proof that you tipped off the gangbanger, Rivera, to Michael Feeny’s prison location and alias in return for his testimony, which resulted in Feeny’s brutal murder.” She sat back, folded her arms, and smiled. “This is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what I know about you. Don’t even get me started on your personal life. Jesus. And I thought I liked it kinky.” Her smile twisted into a sneer, and the look of triumph was unmistakable.

  It took several hard swallows and deep breaths before Berg slowed her thoughts enough to speak. She picked up a file and flipped through it, before repeating the action with the remaining files then throwing them back at Maroney.

  “Those are copies, of course,” she said.

  Berg snorted. “I don’t think so, Carla. You don’t have anything even remotely resembling evidence in those files. I thought you were an ASA? This is pathetic, even for you. If these files contained any real evidence, I’d be in prison by now. All they contain is speculation.”

  “Don’t be so sure, detective. Can I really even call you a detective? I mean, you’re no better than the criminals you investigate.”

  “Try again.” Berg didn’t need to put the bitch at the end of the sentence. Her tone got the message across loud and clear.

  Carla looked undisturbed. “Fact is, I don’t have to have much on you. It’s true. But mud sticks, as you well know. Turns out, the gossip I’ve been hearing about you is amazingly accurate. One more rumor or involvement with the police board, and your career is over. You know it, and so does your boyfriend. He’s been putting out fires all over Chicago in an effort to save your career.”

  Berg crossed her arms. “So what? You got me here to arrest me?”

  “Hardly.” Carla scoffed. “I won’t get a conviction on any of these, as you can easily see for yourself. Besides, you’re no good to me in prison.”

  Berg sighed and raised an eyebrow. “For fuck’s sake. Isn’t this taking the woman scorned thing a little too far? Jay will never love you, and I’ll never leave him. I’ll go to jail before I do that.”

  “How sweet, but this isn’t about Jay. Although, I’m not above showing him copies of these if need be. It’s only my ongoing affection for Jay that has stopped me from reporting your relationship to the higher-ups in the CPD. Tell me, does he know what you are? What you’ve done? My guess is no. Jay is pretty black and white about these things, and he believes in the justice system, even with all its faults. My guess is you’d do just about anything to keep this information from him.” She patted the files. “Because you’re trying to be normal for him, right? He’s been defending you for years. It sure would be humiliating for him to find out the gossip was right all along, wouldn’t it? Not to mention extremely damaging to his career.”

  Berg pursed her lips and fought the urge to reach across the desk and choke the life out of the vicious bit
ch. “You clearly want something, so get to the fucking point.”

  “Let’s just say, I don’t necessarily disapprove. And I have a job for you. Something that needs your unique skill set.”

  Berg sighed. “I’m trying to move on, for Jay’s sake. I’m trying to put my past behind me. He deserves it. Just leave us the fuck alone.”

  “That’s very touching.” Carla folded her arms. “But unrealistic.”

  Berg was trapped. “What the fuck do you want?”

  “I want to be state’s attorney,” Carla said simply.

  “And what the fuck can I do about that, exactly?” Berg asked, raising her voice. “Go blackmail your boss.”

  “Do you know what you need to do become state’s attorney in Illinois?”

  Berg slumped back in her chair and glared. “Fuck people over, apparently.”

  Carla snorted. “That’s true of any high-ranking position. No. To be SA, you have to have an exceptional win record. You have to be unbeatable in the courtroom, even more so if you’re a woman. You have to take the hard prosecutions that no one else wants, and make them look easy. You need to be the go-to guy.”

  “So win your cases. What’s that got to do with me? I’m not a fucking lawyer. I can’t help you.”

  “You curse a lot.” Carla stood and wandered toward the large window overlooking the Loop. “Juries are fickle things. They want fingerprints, DNA. They want a diagram drawn for them to find someone guilty. Reasonable doubt is too easy to secure now. And as you know, sometimes the evidence is just not there.” She turned, facing Berg again, rubbed her fingers across her forehead, and sighed heavily. “Juries demand more flash and show with their forensic evidence these days. It’s called the CSI effect. Have you heard of it?”

  Berg rolled her eyes. “Every investigator on the planet has heard of the CSI effect since about 1986. But please, continue telling me the fucking obvious, Carla.”

  “No need to be rude. I’m simply explaining my position.”

  “You’re telling me reasonable doubt is now too easy to get? Why do you think I did the things I’ve done?” Berg sat up straight, slapping down both hands on the arms of the chair. “These people needed to be put away, and that’s what I did!”

  “Like I said, I’m not unsympathetic. I think we can work together on this. You’re going to be my special investigator. In exchange, I’ll keep this information about you to myself. You’re going to be at my beck and call. If I don’t feel like a case is a slam dunk, you’re going to get the evidence I need to make it one. Of course, I’ll claim it all as my own, so you don’t need to worry about offending your CPD colleagues.”

  Berg sat back with a huff. “You have you own investigator on staff, obviously. Not to mention, the detectives give you all the evidence there is. What makes you think I’m going to do any better?”

  Carla smiled. “Because, as much as I loathe the very sight of you, Berg, you’re very good at what you do. You read people well, and you have an instinct regarding criminals that most of us only dream of, like many abuse survivors. I know you hate the way you were raised, but it certainly made you into the cop you are, didn’t it? The cop I need to win cases. Plus, you’ll be extra motivated for me, won’t you?”

  Berg clenched her fists and gnashed her teeth.

  “Besides, I have a budget I have to stick to. I can’t call in an investigator every single time I need more evidence. I’d blow my budget in the first month, and that’s not good for promotion. And like I said, sometimes the evidence just isn’t there.”

  Berg’s stomach sank.

  “That’s where you come in.”

  “You want me to fabricate evidence?” Berg raised her eyebrows so high her forehead hurt.

  Carla shrugged. “I don’t really care what you do, as long as you get me something I can work with.”

  Berg was beyond shocked. She was speechless.

  Carla smiled a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Look at it this way—you want the criminals put away, and so do I. We don’t have to be at cross-purposes here. We have the same goal, you and I.” She looked like she was sharing secrets with her new best friend.

  “Fuck. You.”

  As though Berg hadn’t spoken at all, Carla gathered the three files and placed them back in the cabinet before fishing out another and sliding it across the desk toward Berg. “We’ll need to get started right away. This goes to trial in a week, and I’m not sure I’ll get the result I want. Your job now is to ensure I do.” Carla waved her hand. “Dismissed.”

  Berg stood slowly. “There’s one thing you obviously don’t know about me, Maroney.” She waited until she caught the woman’s eye.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. If you think I’m going be blackmailed by you or anyone, think again. I’d watch my back if I were you.”

  Carla looked unruffled. “If you want to keep your career, not to mention your boyfriend, you’ll do just that, won’t you? And you should know something about me—I always have a backup plan.” Carla shot her an icy smile before turning her attention to her computer.

  ***

  I’m screwed.

  Despite her bravado in that bitch’s office, she had no way around the blackmail. She’d walk away from the CPD before she’d let a lowdown, grubby, grasping cunt like Maroney get the better of her.

  Except it’s not just me this time, is it?

  Maroney had hit the nail on the head. Jay had stuck his neck out for her on more than one occasion. He’d defended her concerning Elizabeth Young and Feeny, not to mention her sexual proclivities. He had backed her vehemently both times the board had looked into her conduct. It would be bad enough that she worked in his precinct if the accusations came out, but to be living with her as well? He’d lose all chance for advancement. No one would ever trust his judgment again. The allegations would follow him his entire career.

  I can’t do that to him.

  Berg rested her head in her hands as she rode the El back to the West Harrison Street precinct. Mercifully, she had managed to find an empty seat, which was perfect since she wasn’t sure her legs would have kept her upright for the entire ride.

  I should have known better.

  She and Jay had finally reached a happy place where she couldn’t wait to see his face next to her every morning when she woke up. It had turned out her belief that she wasn’t capable of a normal relationship had been completely, and thankfully, wrong.

  She had even dropped her nightly sessions with her therapist, Dr. Thompson, back to weekly sessions because she felt so . . . normal. She no longer heard the intrusive thoughts that manifested as the voices of her mother or her ex-captain turned serial killer, Louise Leigh. She hadn’t been back to the sex clubs since Jay had discovered her there over a year ago, and she hadn’t subjected herself to Judge Oliver’s brand of punishment for nearly that long either. In fact, she hadn’t relapsed into the sex addiction at all since she’d found out she was pregnant, and hadn’t wanted to, even after she and Jay had been devastated by the loss of the baby.

  And while she wasn’t pregnant again yet, she felt confident it would happen eventually.

  After all, we weren’t even trying before.

  She knew Jay was desperate to be a father, and she was going to give that to him. It was the least she could do after everything he’d given her.

  It would be easy to say her therapist or her own need to grow and change had made all the difference to her life, but it wasn’t. It was Jay. As much as she had never wanted to be rescued by a man like some bullshit fairy tale, he had saved her. He had turned her life around, turned her into the woman he had always said she could be, not the woman Berg knew existed inside her due to faulty wiring and an abusive childhood. She finally saw the woman he had seen all along, and she felt worthy of it.

  Yes, she had done some questionable things, but it had always been for justice. She wasn’t sorry and never would be. Her father hadn’t gotten away with raping an innocent young girl. Feen
y hadn’t walked for the murders of his wife and mistress. Elizabeth Young hadn’t served minimal time in a psychiatric facility for the murder of her own sister or manipulated her way back out onto the streets.

  The justice system had failed in every one of those cases.

  But I didn’t.

  She had a darkness inside her. She knew it and had accepted it, but she wasn’t the same person she had been. It was all due to Jay, and the idea of losing him was unbearable.

  She ran a shaky hand through her now messy hair.

  He can never find out.

  She took a deep breath. She was going to have to do what Maroney wanted until she could figure out a way to get out of it.

  For Jay.

  Fifteen minutes later, she strode into his office and closed the door behind her.

  Jay raised an eyebrow and bade goodbye to whoever was on the other end of his desk phone. “Wha—”

  “Ask me again,” Berg said, aware that she sounded a little desperate.

  “What?”

  “Ask me again . . . to marry you. Ask me.”

  Jay smiled widely. “But . . . here?”

  Berg nodded. “I appreciate you’ve been going out of your way with the romance and the flowers and the fancy restaurants, but I don’t need any of that. I just need you.”

  Jay stood. “Are you sure? I know your mother’s marriages put you off the idea. I understand, I really do. I know you love me, even if you have trouble saying it.”

  Berg walked around the desk and into his arms. “I’m ready,” she whispered. “Like Dr. Thompson says, I’m ready to put the past behind me, where it belongs.”

  Jay hugged her close, moving his lips to her ear. “Alicia Raymond, will you marry me?”

  “Yes.” Berg nodded into his neck, tears forming. “I love you.”

  “Wait, I’ve got something for you.” He eased out of her arms, pulling a key out of his pocket, and opened a filing cabinet that was almost an exact replica of the one in Maroney’s office.

  Huh. Must be standard Government issue.

  He fished around in the top drawer and pulled out a black velvet box. “This is the most secure place I could think of to keep it until I finally wore you down about the whole marriage thing.” He grinned, walking back toward Berg, and opened the box. “It’s a black diamond.” He looked like a small boy seeking approval as he stared into her eyes. “I thought it was more . . . you.”