by AJ Nuest
He’d want his hands on her, all right. To throttle her neck.
But maybe that was best. The supposed silver lining behind the miserable pressure bent on squeezing the air from her lungs. After all, what better way to convince both teams she and Kelly were truly on opposite sides of the fence than to force an argument right in front of their faces? Yes, it would be a dirty hand to play, but wasn’t catching Adrian the whole point of this meeting? To make sure he paid for the crimes he’d committed? While Kelly’s plan had merit, if hers worked, they’d be guaranteed success much, much faster.
Eden dropped her forehead into her hand as he laid out a detailed synopsis of the events leading up to the discovery of Viv’s body. Malcolm’s involvement, the trial and how Eden had been the linchpin to making sure Adrian had been led away in chains. But she didn’t really listen. She’d lived every unforgiving moment. Had groveled and begged to stay safe and alive through the hell everyone jotted down like her existence was no more than a grocery list.
And disconnecting, trusting Kelly to make the call on what was and wasn’t important was just better. Less disturbing.
It was either that or she was apt to lose what little control she had left.
“Have we learned any information about the location of Vivian…” D’Avella flipped through the file folders she’d spread over the table. “Eggers’s murder scene?”
Archer shook his head. “No leads have surfaced. Whoever this Pratt character is, he’s good at covering his tracks.”
Eden huffed. The dude had no idea.
The captain shifted her attention to Molly. “Did we make any progress on how Adrian Pratt received his parole without Ms. Smith being notified of his release?”
Surprise jabbed the pit of Eden’s stomach. How the heck had D’Avella heard about that? She peeked at Kelly out of the corner of her eye and he lowered his chin just enough to provide the answer. Gotcha. He must’ve reported the snafu the minute he’d had the captain’s ear. Or, better yet, he’d gone straight to Molly and asked her to track what had happened to the missing letter.
“I’m guessing it’s because no notifications were ever sent.” Molly clicked a few keys and the ID badge of a middle aged woman blanketed the wall, mousy brown hair pulled back in a bun, tired brown suit jacket hanging off her shoulders. “Say hi to Jane Edwards. File clerk for the Third District Parole Board. Far as I can tell, the paper trail both starts and ends with her.”
Swiveling his chair back to the table, Archer cocked a brow. “I’ve already sent a squad to pick her up. Trust me, Ms. Edwards and I will be having a nice long discussion regarding her job responsibilities.”
“Start with her finances, instead. According to her most recent bank statement, a large deposit was made…” Molly paled. Slowly sitting back from her keyboard, she grimaced. “Shit. Sorry, boss.”
Uh, oh. Eden swiveled her head toward D’Avella.
“How many times do we have to go over this, Molly?” The captain braced her forearm on the table, thumb furiously clicking the mechanical thingamajig on the end of her pen. “Do you think I like putting you on probation? The paperwork gives me a migraine.”
“I know, I know, I was playing a hunch.” She hiked her shoulders near her ears. “Sorry,” she squeaked.
“Wait. Isn’t filing a form on Molly sorta pointless?” Nick DeFranco sat forward on Eden’s right. “I thought she was still on probation from our last case.”
D’Avella’s team shared a chuckle, the captain and Kelly included. All, except Molly, who shot a scowl down the table toward the medical examiner.
Okay, what the heck was going on here? Eden’s gaze ping-ponged around the faces in the room. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve sworn this meeting was taking place at Dirty Deeds. Everyone treated each other like family. Instead of Molly shrinking under D’Avella’s reprimand, they acted like her being in trouble was a joke.
“All right, enough.” The captain waved her hands over the table. “Enough, people.” She waited for the group to settle before peering at Eden over the top of her half-glasses. “You’ll have to forgive us, Ms. Smith. I’ve repeatedly warned our Tech AV about hijacking people’s personal information without first attaining the proper warrants. I can assure you, those are not our usual methods.”
Uh-h-h, was she kidding? Eden crossed her arms, studying the clever twinkle in Meredith D’Avella’s eyes. No, not kidding. Fibbing. For Eden’s benefit. In fact, letting her subordinates play their hunches was exactly the way Captain D’Avella ran her organization. Why else would they treat Molly’s violation like a regular occurrence?
Results are what mattered to this team. Exactly the same as each case Eden contracted at Dirty Deeds. Making sure their victims saw justice, so as long as everyone covered their asses by filling out the proper forms.
No, wait. Eden frowned down the table at Mocha and he shrugged. Come on, that couldn’t be right.
She refocused on Captain D’Avella and raised a brow. “I completely understand.”
“Thank you.” The captain pointed to the young girl peeking over the screen of her laptop. “Molly, I expect a search warrant on my desk first thing in the morning. And no counterfeits this time. That wasn’t funny.” She firmed her lips as if she’d just caught Molly with her hand in the cookie jar. “In the meantime, good work. I’m sure Detective Archer appreciates the tip.”
Molly grinned down at her keyboard, sneaked a peek at Eden and rolled her eyes. She pressed a key and the fluorescents gradually brightened to their previous headache-inducing glare.
Kelly reclaimed his seat as the white screen retracted into the ceiling. “So, given the background on this case and lack of additional victims, I think it’s pretty safe to say Ms. Smith is our perp’s final target. With that in mind, I’m proposing we move her to a secure location outside the city and keep her under surveillance until Adrian Pratt has been apprehended. Once he’s in custody, it’s just a matter of matching Pratt’s DNA to the cells DeFranco found under Vivian Eggers’s fingernails. In addition to Ms. Smith’s testimony, that should make this case a slam dunk.”
The group exchanged a round of nods, except for Tanner and Mocha, who both looked to Eden for approval. No doubt, this was the way D’Avella and her team generally rolled with the punches. It was formulaic. Customary. Standard witness protection procedure.
And completely and totally wrong.
Yes, the evidence stacked against Adrian would be highly suspicious, but it would also be circumstantial. Neither the DNA match nor his motive would confirm he’d killed Malcolm and Viv beyond the shadow of a doubt. Too many holes would be left in the case. Too many ways Adrian’s attorney could plant a seed of uncertainty in a jury’s mind.
No way in hell was Eden about take that risk.
Adrian Pratt deserved life behind bars.
She exhaled a slow, calming breath to steady her nerves. God, this was gonna suck. “I firmly and wholeheartedly disagree.”
Chapter 18
Kelly jerked his attention to her and Eden braced for his accusations to hit like the resounding crack of a gavel. In about two seconds flat, he would convict her of setting up a scam.
A big, fat silence waltzed into the room, and a breath lodge in her throat as about a billion and one questions flooded his gaze. Confusion, uncertainty, frustration—it was all there, and the worst part was, she couldn’t blame him one bit. God knew, if he’d switched things up without first discussing his ideas with her, she’d be hard-pressed to roll over and play dead.
He squinted. “If you have another suggestion, Ms. Smith, please go ahead. I’m all ears.”
Yeah, great. He was also a simmering tower of testosterone-fueled muscle that was apt to pop a vessel once he heard what she was about to propose. But they simply had no other choice. If they wanted to catch Adrian at any point in this millennium, someone had to be the bait.
Eden placed her palms on the table, fingers spread
, hoping by some miracle of osmosis the strength of the wood would seep into her body. Help her stick to her guns. “Everything must go back to the way it was before any of this ever started. Before Viv was found. Before Malcolm’s murder. And before we knew Adrian had been released on parole.”
Before you and I ever met…
She tore her focus off the stunned disbelief lifting Kelly’s brows and looked to Captain D’Avella. “It’s me Adrian Pratt wants. I think that’s exactly what we should give him.”
Tanner paled. Blinked.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Mocha scissored his hands over his purse. “That sounds like a horrible idea to me.”
“Have you lost your damn mind?” Kelly shot to his feet, neck corded, a vein pulsing near his open collar as he leaned in. “You’d be providing that psychopath the perfect opportunity to kill you!”
Or the better alternative, for her to pit herself against Adrian one on one. Make it so she could finish this on her terms instead of his.
Captain D’Avella held her palm in Kelly’s direction. “Have a seat, Detective. I’d like to hear what Ms. Smith has in mind.”
Muttering, nostrils flared, he set his jaw and slammed back into his chair.
Guilt flooded Eden’s chest over his reaction. God, she would’ve given anything to reach out to him. Let him know her decision shouldn’t be interpreted as a negative reflection on him. This was the right thing to do regardless of whatever outcome was at stake.
“What you’ve all forgotten is that I’m the only one in this room who knows Adrian.” Her fingertips whitened as she pressed her hands harder against the wood. To keep her grounded. Stave off the horrible sadness bent on sucking the very life right out of her. “He’s smarter than any of you have given him credit for. Why do you think you’ve been unable to find Viv’s murder scene? How do you think he got released without me hearing about it or was able to locate Malcolm’s address? For God’s sake, how did he know where to find me the night he attacked me in that alley?” Didn’t they get it? Didn’t they see how running wouldn’t do her any damn good? “He’s been planning his revenge for over a decade. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew I was at the precinct meeting with a bunch of cops right now.”
Kelly aimed a rigid finger at the table. “Even more reason to make sure you’re stashed someplace safe.”
“And do what, Detective?” She tipped her head, struggling to keep her voice calm, her face neutral, even though, inside, her heart hurt. Like, physically hurt. “Spend the next however long it takes until we find him with my life on hold? Looking over my shoulder and wondering when I’ll be his next victim? No. I won’t do it. Adrian has already waited ten years to get even with me. I’m proof-positive he’ll have no trouble waiting ten more.”
“So, what are you saying?” Mocha fiddled with the top button on his purple blouse. “You wanna confront Pratt alone? Without any police protection?”
“Alone, no.” Eden eased back in her chair, crossing her arms as she scanned the group. But she couldn’t bring herself to look at Kelly. She already knew what was going through his head.
She’d gutted him. She’d stolen the one objective he’d wanted from this meeting and tossed it in the trash. To be the guy who stayed with her. Protected her. Kept her safe.
But he wasn’t the only one sparring his frustrations inside an internal boxing ring. The mere idea she’d disappointed him was like a hard, fast jab to her diaphragm. Good news was, none of them would have to worry about Adrian getting close. Given the penetrating cramp in her chest, any second now, she was about to keel over in the damn chair.
She swiveled right to meet the Captain’s pensive frown. “Without being too forthcoming about my personal affairs, I can assure you my team has professional experience with surveillance. It would be easy for us to set up wiretaps and video equipment at my office and condo. Adrian would never suspect Mocha and Tanner of invading my privacy, and I could allow them to monitor my activity around the clock.”
She dipped her head, forcing the words past her numb lips. “But, as far as working with the police is concerned, I think it’s best I disassociate myself from any further contact with your department. Adrian won’t make a move unless he thinks it’s safe. All messages, status reports, et cetera, could come through a private, designated line via Mocha. If anything were to happen to me, he could contact you right away.”
Kelly grunted, his chair creaking as he collapsed in his seat. “She’s nuts. The woman should be strapped in a straitjacket and locked in a padded cell.”
Maybe he was right, but if there was one thing Eden knew for certain, Adrian would have no problem believing she’d decided to go it alone. Never, in a million years, would he suspect she was working with the police.
Your days of revenge are over… Those were the exact words he’d whispered in her ear, right before Kelly had come to her rescue. Which meant Adrian had never intended for her to make it out of that alley alive. In fact, given the way her business card had been found on Viv and Malcolm’s bodies, it wouldn’t have surprised her to learn he had her home address and the location of Dirty Deeds.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Not even close.
Ever since the night of the attack, she’d been in the company of the Chicago PD’s smolderingly sexy lead homicide detective. Other than that grisly half hour she’d spent at Malcolm’s, Kelly had been with her the entire time, and not once had Adrian made an appearance. In her experience, that translated to one thing.
He was waiting…watching. He was playing the odds while patiently counting down the minutes toward the perfect chance to strike. She’d employed the tactic enough, she recognized the signs. And now that she understood what he was doing, she wasn’t about to disappoint him.
If Adrian wanted to stalk her in order to fulfill some sick, voyeuristic part of his personality, that was fine. In exchange, she’d make sure he spent the rest of his days sporting a bright orange jumpsuit and a pair of rubber clogs.
“We could make it seem like the only reason for my visit this evening was to issue a statement to the police.” Sliding one of her hands from under her crossed arms, Eden flipped her palm in Captain D’Avella’s direction. “After all, I’m not suspected of a crime, right? There’s no real reason for you to detain me.”
“I’d be happy to leak a note to the press that the case has reached a standstill. That would take off some of the heat.”
Captain D’Avella’s focus flicked to Molly and back again.
Now they were talking. Bracing her elbow on the arm of her chair, Eden balanced her chin on her fingers and prepared to deliver her final argument. The one that would remove any guesswork about where she stood and ensure everyone in the room got on the same page.
And so what if the words wanted to stick in her throat? Who cared if her gag reflex had suddenly launched into hyper drive?
This meeting had been scheduled for one purpose and one purpose only. To take down a killer. To do right by Malcolm and Viv.
She could only hope Kelly would understand. That he would be able to set aside whatever feelings he might have for her and recognize this was the most logical way forward.
Eden refused to be hidden away like some precious commodity, give up everything she’d worked so hard to achieve while P-rat was left free to roam the streets. She wasn’t some shrinking violet who didn’t have the first clue how to keep herself safe.
Her friends deserved better. God dammit, she deserved better. Too bad her next words were sure to hurt the one man who’d taught her that. “Besides, if I understand my rights correctly, there’s no law that states I have to cooperate with the police.”
“Oh, my God.” Kelly blew a harsh breath toward the ceiling. “Unbelievable,” he whispered.
Captain D’Avella studied Eden out of the corner of her eye, sizing her up, and based on the shrewd way she arched one eyebrow, the woman had received Eden’s message loud and clear.
> They either did things her way, or she was walking out of here and taking their best chance at convicting Adrian along with her.
“Ms. Smith, I feel it’s only fair to remind you the type of person we’re dealing with here. Adrian Pratt is a dangerous man. No, there’s no law that states you must work with the police on this case. However, it’s not in my jurisdiction to sanction any civilian involvement to the level of which you are suggesting.” She sighed, pausing a moment to glance around the table. Her jaw firmed, and she shook her head. “That being said, you do offer a compelling—”
“Cap, no.” Kelly abruptly sat forward. “You can’t seriously be considering this cockamamie idea. We need to lock Eden down. Get her off Pratt’s radar.”
“I could do it.” A pretty blush tinted Tanner’s cheeks as every head in the room swiveled in her direction. “I mean, I’ve run interference for Eden before. I’m fully capable of being her stand in. If I wore a wire, we could zero in on Pratt’s location without ever putting her danger.”
Archer grunted, crossing his thick arms. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
The scowl that crumpled Tanner’s brow was an exact match to all the other frowns around the table, including—Eden was sure—the one tightening her forehead.
What the hell was his problem now? She glanced back and forth from Archer to Tanner. Oh. Of course. The sparks charging the air between them practically glowed like a Christmas tree.
“What are you, twenty-one? Twenty-two?” He shook his head. “No way. You’re staying out of this.”
“Ex-cuse me?” She jabbed a sharp finger toward his chest. “What does my age have to do with anything? And furthermore, who died and left you in charge—”
“Tanner,” Eden snapped. The two of them could have their spat later. Whoever won wouldn’t matter because the point was moot. She wasn’t about to let anyone else take on her responsibility. “I appreciate the offer, sweetie, but no. Adrian and I share a history. If you got hurt, I’d never forgive myself. I’m the one who needs to be there when we take him down.”