by Trisha Wolfe
Sadie must see the determination in my eyes, and she’s quick to be the first to approach me. “We have a plan,” she says, her unearthly green eyes pleading with me to be patient. “Come on. Let’s get you somewhere you can rest.”
An unspoken exchange passes between us, where she encourages me to trust her just a while longer. I exhale a plume of vapor into the cool air, my constricted chest too tight. “What plan?”
Quinn drives a hand through his tousled hair, looking like he’s done just that a number of times already today. “There’s no fucking plan,” he grates out. “But I agree with getting you home.”
Our gazes lock. All the worry and weight of the longing moments between us stretched thin, ready to snap. He reaches for my hand, and I only hesitate a second before grabbing hold of him. His rough fingers wrap around my slim ones in a secure squeeze.
Sadie motions for me to take the front seat, then she slips into the back, where I notice Colton for the first time. My shock must register with Quinn.
“Oh, yeah. There’s a plan all right,” he says, directing his words toward the backseat. “One where I drop the both of you off at whatever raunchy establishment you want.”
A flash of anger flints in Colton’s pale eyes. “Believe me,” he says as he slides Sadie closer to his side. “I’m no fan of anything that has me sitting in the back of your cop car.”
I buckle myself in and turn toward Quinn. “What plan?” I ask again.
He shakes his head and cranks the car. “The one that will have every single one of us put on a list with the FBI, never mind losing all our jobs, risking imprisonment for obstruction…” He glances at me. “You ever heard of The Firm?”
I shake my head.
The tension gripping his body immediately slackens. “I can’t stress enough how fucking happy that makes me.”
9
Sedition
Quinn
I pull into the parking space alongside Carson’s car and throw the gear into Park with an impatient groan. “Who called Carson?”
“We’re going to need backup,” Sadie says, and my teeth clench.
I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit. It’s too…Sadie. The whole thing stinks of her methods and tactics, and it’s way out of my comfort zone. Too much can go wrong. Someone can get hurt. Avery could get hurt.
My gaze wanders to her sitting calmly in the passenger-seat. She looks exhausted. She’s already been through so much. When Larkin suggested using her in his scheme, that’s the second I walked out.
He’s damn lucky I didn’t put my fist through his face first.
I scrub my hands down my face, feeling every bit as worn out as this day. “All right. Let’s get this over with.” The sooner I can veto this idiotic plan, the sooner I can convince Avery to sleep. Something we both need.
For a brief second as I insert my key into the door lock, a niggle of anxiety tenses my shoulders. I never have people at my house. Ever. I’m rarely even here, except to sleep and shower. And as I lead my colleagues into the living area, that’s pretty damn obvious.
Blank walls and sparse decoration. Books and research stacked high on the only table in the center, a small flatscreen hung on the wall. Even though it’s not much, it’s still my personal space, and having them here feels like an invasion of privacy.
“Wow. Where the great Detective Quinn lays his head,” Carson remarks. “Can the profiler give us any interesting insights into the man?” He thrusts his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels, sending Sadie a self-satisfied look.
Sadie smiles, something as rare as company inside my home, and the room warms just because of it. “You mean the fact that he’s a complete neat freak with OCD tendencies, and instead of chancing a mess, he simply avoids personal possessions?”
Avery lilts a tiny laugh, and the scowl on my face melts away. “Funny, smartasses.” I scoop the books off the table and set them on the bookshelf, then think better and align them in order next to the other books along the row.
Sadie’s snort doesn’t go unnoticed. “Yeah, all right,” I say. “I like my shit tidy. Can we just move this along past mock-Quinn-hour?”
Carson clears his throat. “Right, boss. So what is this big clandestine plan we’re keeping from the Feds and the captain? From what Agent Bonds said, seems we got a lead from that lawyer—Larkin.”
A lead. More like a setup. Larkin was quick to confirm my suspicions on Maddox. Rather too quick, considering he’s throwing one of his own right under a giant bus. The way I see it, he wants Maddox out of his firm, but because he’s being extorted, he can’t do that himself. He’s trying to orchestrate a means to rid himself of his blackmailer without getting his own hands dirty.
I give him credit; he’s thought it through, and knows we’re inclined not to involve the Feds. I’m not opposed to this whole plan in general, not if it means collaring the suspects and getting Avery out of danger. But crime is crime. Right is right, and wrong is wrong. Whatever Larkin is guilty of, whatever got him mixed up with these criminals to begin with, isn’t just going to disappear off my radar.
Larkin has to be aware of this fact. Aware that once we do make an arrest, one of the perps is bound to turn on Larkin. Either to plea for a deal, or just out of spite.
How does Larkin think he’s going to play this game and come out clean on the other side? Or alive, for that matter.
Only when I sneak a glance at Avery, take in her sullen lethargy, and remember the pain on her face this morning when it was crystal fucking clear she was hurt by this so called Alpha...all logic vanishes.
How far will I go down this dark path to protect her?
Sadie picks up on Carson’s prompt, interrupting my disturbed thoughts. “We’ve made a deal.”
“No deal,” I say, cutting my eyes at her. “We don’t make deals with miscreants.”
At Sadie’s exasperated sigh, Avery chimes in. “It didn’t sound to me like he’s a miscreant…I mean, yes, he operates a kinky BDSM club, but that’s not illegal, is it?”
All heads turn toward Colton, that question unmistakably directed at him.
Arms crossed, his back leaned up against the wall, he shrugs. Fucking smug bastard. “He’s not doing anything illegal,” he finally answers. “He’s offering a service to people who don’t want their fetishes broadcasted. Some people might not be open-minded enough to accept it.” His gaze skirts the room to narrow on me.
I almost laugh. “Accept it? It’s kind of hard to accept when your rope fetish—”
“Shibari,” he interjects.
“—looks a lot like crime scene photos of a sadistic perp’s bondage fantasy,” I finish.
“Can someone just tell me what the hell this is all about?” Carson asks.
“Trafficking.”
It’s Avery’s gentle voice that slices through the tension. “Sex Trafficking,” she clarifies as she looks around the room. “Abducting women in other countries and making them disappear. Bringing them here to sell to the highest bidder. Dosing them with a highly effective aphrodisiac that will not only make them compliant, tolerant of their hopeless circumstance, but the most sought after sex slaves money can buy.”
Silence falls heavy and thick. Each person contemplative, allowing this information to sink in. But I have to know—the detective in me needs all the facts. “How do you know this?”
The slim column of Avery’s throat bobs. She reaches into her pocket and produces a USB drive. “The FBI medical examiner identified the victims. All foreign. Most have an open missing person’s case in their country.” She lays the drive on the table. “It’s all documented here.”
That’s a logical leap to trafficking. Factor in the drug, and these perps have a very lucrative business. A fucking sick business—but one that’s becoming the fastest growing criminal enterprise in the world.
My gaze lingers on Avery, on the nervous tremble of her body. She may be exhausted, but there’s something else she’s not voicing. I can
see it in her downcast eyes. The way she tugs at her lip.
“The Feds have taken over contacting the families?” I ask.
She forces her hand to her lap and looks up. “Yes. As long as the case is open here, we can retain the victims for further examination. But I’m sure they’re going to want to lay them to rest—I mean, I’m sure we’ll have to extradite them soon.”
She can fool herself all she wants, hardening herself into a top professional of her field, but I glimpse the mournful compassion beneath her well constructed doctor persona.
“And Chase Larkin provided proof to back Avery’s discovery today,” Sadie interjects. She looks at Colton and holds his gaze, as if gathering courage. “The person who calls themself the Alpha is conducting an underground auction tomorrow night at The Firm. Larkin’s exclusive association.”
She doesn’t have to voice what the merchandise is. If it’s true, if the murdered women that have been appearing near Dumpsters have only been a diversion for this auction, then we’re facing a special brand of evil.
“Why there?” Carson asks. “I mean, why would the Alpha trust a venue that’s not specifically his to control. Why run the risk?”
Good question, rook. I go to respond, but my front door rattles with a low knock before it’s opened. I reach for my gun and curse. But Sadie and Carson are quick to draw theirs.
“Resources.” Larkin stands in the threshold, then seeing the weapons, squares his shoulders. “And here I thought we were invited.”
As Sadie and Carson lower their guns, I take off toward Larkin. “Rich lawyers suddenly supersede breaking and entering laws?” I march past him and check the outside corridor.
Alexis smiles demurely at me as she crosses into the apartment behind Larkin. Once I clear the corridor, making sure Larkin doesn’t have any uninvited guests loitering, I shut and lock the door.
“In retrospect, I probably should’ve waited,” Larkin says, that annoying, million-watt lawyer smile on full display. “Definitely don’t want to get shot. However, I thought it would be ideal to get out of eyesight as soon as possible.”
Risking a lot, or not worth the risk? His whole agenda is shady, and his presence sucks the meager light right out of the room. His other half—Alexis—stands beside him, her hands cupped before her black pencil skirt, his dark little shadow.
“Well, let’s not chance being seen together any longer than necessary,” I say, crossing my arms. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just hand you over to the Feds.”
It’s Alexis who steps forward to answer. “Because they’re tainted.”
My brows push together. “What do you mean?”
“As I was saying,” Larkin stresses. “My firm has resources. Superlative resources. The Alpha has targeted my firm because they want all potential buyers vetted beforehand.” He mirrors my stance, gaze unwavering. “And due to those resources, I’ve been made aware of a possible breach in the local FBI Organized Crime Division. That’s why I didn’t reach out to them.”
“What breach?”
He glances around my living room, quickly assessing everyone here. “You know how likely it is to have a leak within your department, Detective Quinn. The FBI aren’t without their own security challenges.”
Right. If it smells like bullshit… “That aside, you think we’re your best option to rid you of your problem.” I lift my chin.
“Exactly.” He smiles. “As I said before, we can both get what we desire by working together.”
I shake my head. “What makes you think you have any idea—?”
“You want Miss Johnson safe.” His attention shifts to Avery. “From how you’ve all gathered here, potentially risking your careers, you all want the same.”
A pang knocks my chest. No one responds, because it’s damn true.
I take a step forward. “Since you’re so perceptive, tell me how the fuck you can ask any one of us to allow Avery into The Firm.”
Yet Avery’s the one to stand and answer. “I can’t and won’t risk anyone else. I’m willing to be the one to do this.” She takes a breath. “I should be the one.”
“She’ll be protected there,” Alexis assures. She glances at Avery. “I’ll be there with her, and I promise she won’t be harmed. She’ll be more protected there than anywhere else in this city. No one has reason to suspect her of being there.”
My jaw sets at hearing this woman use Avery’s name. I find Avery’s eyes, seeking her answer. For whatever reason, whether it’s her own selfless nature or the drive to be noble, or the need to see her job through to this impossible end… She’s determined to do it.
Sadie speaks up. “Quinn, if I could, I would take her place. You know I would.” She lowers the collar of her shirt, revealing the thick scar marring her collarbone. “But, no amount of cosmetics will hide my identity.”
What’s not being voiced: How any of the members or lawyers at The Firm would know her identity. But they do, and not just due to Larkin’s “extensive resources.” Sadie has some other connection to this law firm and, I swear, before this is all said and done, I’ll have answers.
“We’ll dye your hair,” Alexis says to Avery. “And, of course, a little cosmetics will help conceal your scar.” She smiles wanly as Avery touches her lip. “But more than that, you’ll be required to wear a mask. I’ll make sure it’s one to hide your features well.”
Fuck this. I don’t like it. Hell, I downright loathe the idea of Avery going anywhere near those sick fuckers. But… “I’m going in with her.”
“You can’t.”
I pin Larkin with a heated glare. “If she goes in, I go in with her.”
“You chased down a transport van in broad daylight and beat the shit out of one of the suspects, Detective Quinn. These people know who you are.” He looks at Carson. “You’re detective here, however, well—he would work.”
I drop my head, a defeated laugh falling from my mouth before I’m able to look up again. “And how’s that?”
Larkin’s smile sets me on edge. “He’s your leak,” he says simply. “He already has a well known reputation in the gambling ring. He’s not our ideal member, of course, but with a little tweaking, his background could be forged to better suit one of a potential buyer at the auction.”
Silence builds, squeezing the room in a tense grip. My gaze hard and steady, unable to move past Larkin, I say slow and concise, “What did you say?”
With a huff, Larkin fixes his eyes on Carson. “Superlative resources, detective. Alec Carson has been feeding information to the press for a price to help pay off his gambling debt.”
His words aren’t registering clearly, his voice an annoying background noise to the blood cooking my veins, rushing past my ears. When I manage to look at Carson, the roar of blood crescendos. Carson doesn’t deny it.
“You fucking piece of shit—” I’m across the room and have Carson by his collar and against the wall in three steps.
“Quinn…let me explain.” He latches on to my wrists, tries to remove my hold. I curl my fingers in deeper as I snap his back against the wall hard.
“You fucking sold out your own department?”
“Just a few times.” He actually says this, sending rage careening through my arteries. “Not when it mattered.”
“Quinn—” Sadie’s voice bleeds into my awareness. “Stop. This is good.”
My gaze swings to her, my eyes wide. Of course she has no qualms about Carson being a greedy leak. Forcefully relaxing my hold, I loosen my fingers just enough for Carson to wriggle free.
I scan the room, darting glances at each person in my house. People hide things. About themselves, their personal lives—problems and how they cope with their issues. I’m not fucking heartless; I get that some extremes are a necessary evil. But being a leak is pretty low on my list.
Sadie’s secrets, her double life has nearly cost her and others—me included—more than our careers. Lives were at stake.
When my gaze lands on A
very, I feel as if I’ve been sucker punched right in the gut. Fear is evident on her pretty face—fear of me. My fists still locked by my sides, arms trembling with strain, I hate myself for questioning her. Trying to read her. Figure out if she’s fearful of me…or if she’s hiding her own secrets.
I shake myself out of that thought and turn back toward Carson, who’s still pressed up against the wall and eyeing me like I might attack him again.
He holds up his hands. “It really was just a few times. I was just…desperate. But when Avery was abducted—” He swallows. “I quit. I promise.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Larkin says.
My fury is directed toward him and his interference with my team, my investigation, and now my life. “This ends now.”
“Please,” Avery says. “Let’s just hear him out, then we’ll all decide.”
I wave my hand through the air. “Why do I care when Carson stopped leaking like a damn faucet?”
“Because it’s important to your investigation.” Larkin moves toward the center of the room. “I was the one who leaked the Alpha’s signature to the media.”
And inadvertently or not, may have caused the death of three women. Sickened, I shake my head. “I’ve heard enough. You should’ve contacted me before making such a fucking dumb move, Larkin.” I grab the USB drive from the table and head toward my bedroom. “Everyone can see themselves out.”
Avery grabs my arm as I try to pass, halting me. “I have to do this, Quinn.”
The pain in her voice stabs my chest. “We’ll discuss it later. I put your stuff in the guest bedroom.”
She releases me, taking a step away. “Fine. All right.”
I shut the door behind me, escaping into my room where I might be able to hear my own thoughts. Only the low rumble of voices coming from the main room steals that sanctuary.
It comes down to this—this moment. This choice. A lifetime of devotion to my work and morals and beliefs, all summed up to a broken man without a badge.