Internal Affairs

by Alana Matthews

  But Sloan was no dummy. He suddenly relaxed. Finished buttoning his shirt. “As I said, deputy, I didn’t go anywhere near that house this morning. I’ve been in this suite since ten o’clock last night, and I’ve got half a dozen witnesses who’ll vouch for me. Including the little gal you just heard moaning and groaning.” He grinned. “And she wasn’t faking it.”

  “You’re pathetic, you know that?”

  “Be that as it may,” Sloan said, “I live in a world you can only dream about, and that gives me certain privileges. You made a big mistake coming here, hotshot. I figure by this time tomorrow morning you’ll be looking for a way to pay your rent, and you’re usefulness to my ex-wife will have come to an abrupt, unceremonious end.”

  “Or I could just beat the crap out of you and claim self-defense. Arrest you for attempted assault on a sheriff’s deputy.”

  Sloan smiled again. “Ah, but you wouldn’t do that, would you? I know your kind. You’re Deputy Dudley Do-Right, who helps damsels in distress and believes in the letter of the law.” He tucked his shirt in and turned, heading toward the doorway he had emerged from. When he reached it, he turned back, still smiling. “I think you can find your way out, deputy. And when you go, be sure to tell Frank and Bobby that their services are no longer—”

  “Hey, baby, what’s the holdup?” A naked woman with tousled blond hair appeared in the doorway behind him. “Do you want another toot or not?”

  She was carrying a baggie full of white powder, her pinky extended toward him, the hollow of her long, scarlet-colored fingernail loaded with the stuff.

  Rafe couldn’t believe his good fortune. Fate once again stepping in when he least expected it, giving him an excuse to draw his weapon and point it at Sloan and the woman.

  “Down!” he shouted. “On your knees! Now!”

  The woman yelped in surprise, dropping the baggie as Sloan gave her a murderous look, then threw his hands in the air and sank to the carpet.

  “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!” she cried, quickly mimicking Sloan.

  As she dropped to her knees, Rafe reached for the radio still clipped to his shoulder and flicked it on. “Dispatch, I’ve got a 190 in progress and I need backup.”

  He gave them the address, then gestured to the clothes that remained on the floor and told Sloan’s companion to put them on.

  Sloan looked up at him, fire in his eyes. “Better start getting that resume in order, hotshot. And I sure hope you’ve got experience cleaning toilets, because when I’m done with you, that’s about the only job you’ll be able to get.”

  “Stop,” Rafe said. “You’re scaring me.”

  But as he looked into Sloan’s eyes, he could see that this was far from over.

  Chapter Ten

  Lisa wasn’t able to go back to sleep that morning.

  After Rafe and his partner left, Beatrice had scooped up Chloe from the sofa and carried her upstairs, announcing that she was headed back to bed.

  “I bought some eggs if you want breakfast,” she said. “And the coffeemaker’s set on automatic.”

  Lisa knew Bea wasn’t happy with her. Her words had come out in a clipped monotone that telegraphed her displeasure. Bea felt that failing to press charges against Oliver was a mistake. That he had gotten away with too much in his life because people were afraid of him.

  And maybe she was right. Maybe Lisa should have pressed charges. But, until tonight, Oliver had never laid a finger on her and she knew that much of what had happened here had been fueled by the drugs and alcohol.

  There was actually a time when Oliver had been sweet to her. Kind. And despite that sense of menace she felt around him now, despite the episode with that other woman—the one that had led to their divorce—Lisa had a hard time equating the man she had married with the picture Rafe and his partner had painted.

  So when it came time to pull the trigger—to use one of Oliver’s favorite phrases—she couldn’t bring herself to do it. A mistake, perhaps, but it was her mistake and she would own it, just as she owned all the others she’d made.

  Her inability to sleep, however, had nothing to do with Oliver. The significance of what had happened with him in this room paled in comparison to what had followed.

  Lisa had long ago given up on the thought of ever seeing Rafe Franco again, had convinced herself that he no longer mattered to her. She had assumed that he had stayed in California and was spending his weekends on the shores of Malibu or Zuma Beach or one of the other sun-and-fun hot spots they’d seen on television.

  But suddenly here he was, the man she had loved so fervently. The first—and only—real love she had ever known. He was no longer a confused, idealistic college student, but a grounded sheriff’s deputy who commanded a room when he entered it.

  The transformation Rafe had undergone was startling to Lisa, but in a good way. Three years ago, when they parted ways, she had been convinced that he was too young and restless to commit to her. That trying to tie him down would be a mistake, even if she loved him more than anyone she’d ever known.

  It was because of that love that she had let him go. Had even pretended that she, too, was restless. That she, too, wanted to explore the possibilities of life. They had talked about going their separate ways many times in that last year of college, and she knew that Rafe needed time to find himself.

  So she had given it to him, even after she found out she was pregnant.

  When the doctor sprang the news, Lisa’s first instinct had been to try to contact Rafe. To tell him he was about to be a father. Rafe was just the type of guy to drop everything, to put his life on hold and do the right thing. To marry her and help her raise their child.

  But the last thing she wanted was a marriage based on obligation. Her parents had married because of her, and they had been miserable for as long as she could remember.

  So she had never picked up that phone, had never sent him that email. Had convinced herself that this was the right thing to do. To grant Rafe his freedom.

  But seeing him walk into her living room had changed everything. Seeing him look down at Chloe and smile, hearing him tell her how beautiful Chloe was, had made her realize that the choice she’d made might very well have been the wrong one. That it wasn’t fair to Rafe.

  Or to Chloe.

  But after more than three years, how could she possibly break the news to him? She couldn’t simply blurt out, “Oh, by the way, Chloe is yours.”

  She had to find the right moment.

  The perfect moment.

  But when, she wondered, would that be?

  * * *

  “SO TELL ME ABOUT that hunk of a deputy,” Bea said.

  She had awakened an hour later in a much better mood. Had poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table, where Lisa was staring forlornly at a bowl of fruit and yogurt.

  “He’s just a guy I knew in college,” Lisa said, trying to downplay the relationship. Bea had no idea that Chloe was that “hunk” of a deputy’s baby. Nobody did.

  Bea grinned. “Knew? As in the biblical sense?”

  It was just like the woman to get straight to the point. Lisa didn’t bother to respond, but she felt her face grow warm and Bea’s grin widened.

  “Atta girl, Leese. Believe me, if I were forty years younger, that’s one piece of man-candy I wouldn’t mind taking a tumble with.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Lisa said.

  “Oh, who cares. At least you’ve got the memory. And I’ll bet he was pretty memorable, too.”

  Lisa felt a smile coming on and tried but failed to stifle it. “I won’t deny we were pretty good together.”

  “Well,” Bea said, “he seemed happy to see you, and I noticed he didn’t have a ring on his finger.”

  Lisa had to admit that she’d noticed, too. And the moment she did, she had experienced an inexplicable feeling of relief, and maybe a little hope. But then her mother—who was a virulently unhappy woman—had always said that hope was for dreamers.


  Besides, Lisa wasn’t interested in trapping Rafe now any more than she had been after college.

  “I’m not looking to get married again,” she said to Bea. “Not after this last disaster.”

  “Well, I can’t blame you for that. But don’t let one nasty apple spoil the entire barrel for you. Besides, I’ve got a feeling Deputy Studly will keep to his promise and do a little damage repair on your behalf.”

  “And what if it doesn’t stick?” Lisa asked.

  “Then you do what you should’ve done in the first place and file charges against that no-good ex of yours.”

  “And what if that doesn’t stick, either?”

  “Then I guess Mr. Oliver Sloan’ll find out just how good of a shot I really am...”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I don’t think you realize just how dangerously close you are to getting yourself fired.”

  Harold Pine was captain of the Patrol Division, a thirty-year veteran who hadn’t been in the field in more than half that time.

  He sat behind his desk, his tailored uniform masking his considerable bulk. There was little he could do, however, about his slightly misshapen dome, which he regularly shaved bald in an attempt to look slick—an attempt that failed on many different levels.

  Rafe shifted in the chair in front of Pine’s desk. “I was just doing my job,” he said. Which wasn’t strictly true, since Lisa hadn’t filed a complaint against Sloan.

  “Your job?” Pine barked. “Your job is to follow protocol. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  After calling for backup at Sloan’s hotel suite, Rafe had done a quick sweep of the rooms and found another cache of cocaine, along with several tabs of what looked like ecstasy. But now Sloan’s girlfriend was claiming the drugs were hers, and his attorney was screaming illegal search and seizure, charging that Rafe had been in the hotel suite not on police business, but as a private citizen.

  In other words, he had been trespassing and had no probable cause for the search. And to Rafe’s surprise, not only had the judge at the morning arraignment agreed with Sloan’s attorney, but so did Pine.

  “No, what you did was screw up, Franco. I talked to Deputy Harris and I know exactly what happened. You aren’t the first cop to get his weenie in a knot over a woman, but you chose the wrong ex-husband to go after.”

  “Why?” Rafe said. “Everyone in the department knows Sloan is dirty. This was our chance to put him away.”

  “There’s just one small problem with that.”

  “Which is?”

  Pine smiled patiently, then got to his feet. “There are some people who want to talk to you.”

  He gestured and Rafe stood up, following him out the door. They moved down a long corridor to a conference room, Rafe wondering what was going on until Pine threw open the door to reveal who was inside.

  The were four people seated at the conference table, two of whom Rafe had seen earlier that morning: his sister Kate and her partner, Charlie Eberhart. Sitting beside them was Kate’s boss, Captain Weeks, and at the head of the table was none other than the County Undersheriff himself—the man Kate was rumored to be dating—Daniel Macon.

  As the door closed behind Rafe, Macon gestured. “Have a seat, deputy.”

  Rafe did as he was told. He glanced at Kate, but her face was a mask. He had no earthly idea what this was all about, but figured he would soon find out.

  And he knew it couldn’t be good.

  Once Rafe was settled in his seat, Macon said, “I’m sure you’re aware, Deputy Franco, that Oliver Sloan has long been a target of this department.”

  Rafe nodded. “I know he’s been a thorn in our side for quite some time.”

  “And I’m sure,” Macon continued, “that you thought arresting Sloan on a petty drug charge was a way to put him behind bars where he belongs.”

  “I didn’t go there to arrest him,” Rafe said. “Just talk to him. I saw the drugs, and did my duty.”

  “Be that as it may,” Kate said, “you also jeopardized a nine-month-long investigation.”

  Surprised, Rafe swiveled his head toward her. “Investigation?”

  “The woman you arrested along with Sloan was an undercover operative for this department. She’s been one of my confidential informants for years.”

  “That’s right, genius,” Eberhart told him. “You just cowboyed your way into an ongoing investigation and nearly blew the whole thing.”

  Rafe was speechless. What was there to say? No words he uttered would change what had happened.

  But how could he be blamed for this? He may have gone to Sloan’s hotel suite for personal reasons, but the bust he’d made had been righteous. By the book.

  Was he about to be hung out to dry for doing his duty?

  “Fortunately,” Macon said, “the judge saw fit to drop the charges against him. A judge we think could very well be in Oliver Sloan’s pocket. Only this time it worked to our advantage.”

  Kate leaned forward. “But do you see the stakes we’re dealing with here? This isn’t just about Oliver Sloan. It’s about the network he’s built and all the people who are beholden to him.”

  “Including his ex-wife,” Eberhart said.

  Rafe stiffened, felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Were they suggesting that Lisa was part of Sloan’s criminal organization?

  That was ridiculous.

  First, Rafe knew she’d never get involved in any illegal activities—not now, not ever. Three and a half years couldn’t have changed her that much. And second, her reaction to the truth about her ex-husband’s activities had been genuine. Even if she had suspected that Sloan was up to no good, it was obvious that such suspicions had been vague and ill-formed, and nothing to do with organized crime.

  “We understand his ex is an old girlfriend of yours,” Macon said.

  Rafe nodded. “We dated in college.”

  “And where was that?”

  “University of Illinois.”

  “He pretty much kept her under wraps, too,” Kate said with a smile. “Only brought her out here once during all that time and I never even got a chance to meet her. I guess he didn’t want to expose her to the fighting Francos.”

  Rafe chafed. “Why does any of this matter?”

  Kate’s boss, Captain Weeks, spoke up. “Because,” he said, “we think this unexpected reunion is extraordinarily fortunate. A turn of events that could be used to our advantage.”

  Rafe felt his gut tighten. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s simple,” Macon told him. “We want you to turn her. We want you to nurture the relationship and convince her to be our confidential informant.”

  Rafe couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

  “So let me get this straight,” he said. “You want me to betray a friendship in order to get at Sloan?”

  “Not betray,” Kate said. “Merely talk her into helping us.”

  “What about the blonde? Your CI?”

  “Unfortunately, I’ve already heard from her. Even though she claimed the drugs, she says that Sloan blames her for the bust and told her to get lost. She thinks it’ll be a long time before she can get him to trust her again.”

  Rafe considered this for a moment. He had no intention of agreeing to their demand, but he was curious what they figured they could get out of it.

  “And if I were to turn Lisa,” he said, “what exactly would you expect her to do?”

  Macon spread his hands out. “Judging by that domestic call, it’s obvious that Sloan still harbors some feelings for his ex-wife and his child. We’d want her to encourage his affection and try to—”

  Rafe abruptly stood up. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d do that to her.”

  “We aren’t really asking, Deputy Franco. Your future with the department could well depend on your decision.”

  Rafe shot Kate a look, surprised that she would be part of this.

  She gave him a brief, apologetic shrug, as if to say Th
is wasn’t my call, then quickly looked down and studied the tabletop.

  “Well, Deputy Franco? You do value your future here, don’t you?”

  “Not if it means taking advantage of someone I care about. I took this job to help people, not manipulate them. That’s the kind of thing Sloan would do.”

  “Law enforcement can sometimes be dirty business,” Captain Weeks said. “And we have to fight fire with fire.”

  Rafe shook his head. “Not with me, you won’t.”

  Then he turned and walked out the door.

  * * *

  KATE CAUGHT UP TO HIM in the hallway. “Rafe, wait.”

  He stopped, turned, his body stiff with fury. It was bad enough they were asking him to betray Lisa, but he couldn’t quite fathom why his own sister would be part of it.

  “I know this stinks,” she said. “And I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it. But the truth is, you kind of put yourself there.”

  “I busted a man for possession of drugs. Last I heard, that was considered a good thing.”

  “You have to understand the stakes here, Rafe. We’ve been after this jerk for nearly a year now and so far we’ve got nothing.”

  Rafe’s eyebrows went up. “Not even from your CI?”

  Kate shook her head. “Sloan’s been very careful to keep his business to himself. My CI has even tried searching his computer, but couldn’t find anything incriminating.”

  “Then maybe you’re wasting your time. Maybe you should’ve been happy with the drug bust.”

  Kate snorted. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “And if we got lucky, if Sloan was actually convicted, he’d get maybe five years. Less for a first offense. In the meantime, his network stays intact and he gets out of prison even richer and more powerful than he is now.”

  Rafe stared at her. “I’m not going to try to turn Lisa, Kate.”

  “And I’m not asking you to, Rafe. Do you think I wanted this? I know how much she meant to you back in college, even if you did keep your love life under wraps.”

  “Then why are we even doing this?”

  “For two reasons,” Kate said. “First, Oliver Sloan is a very bad man. You know those bodies you found this morning? We think he may be behind that.”