Heat (Deceit and Desire Book 4)

by Cassie Wild

  Suria laughed hollowly. “Right now, her parent and guardian is a crooked, conniving piece of shit by the name of Gabriel Marks. I don’t even know how to begin changing that, you know?

  “We’ll get that figured out. I’ve already got the names of a couple of lawyers to talk to. We need you to get a job – a legit one – and start bringing in a steady source of income so you can prove you’re a reliable guardian. Once you do that, we’ll petition the state. Once you have a job, you’ll already be a step above Marks,” I pointed out.

  Suria sighed. “I know that. This is all just…it’s too much. And now Joelle is mad at me, and if she’s right…what if this cop is somebody who can help us bring my dad down? Then Joelle would really be safe.”

  Eight

  Ravenna

  I had maybe fifty different reports, all filed with the Better Business Bureau, printed out in front of me.

  Gabriel Marks wasn’t exactly an unknown name, and these fifty reports were just the tip of the iceberg, but I didn’t know if any of them would be enough to bring him down.

  It would help if I could talk to some of the people who’d filed the reports, but going in and talking to the BBB without the backing of my department or my supervisor wasn’t going to happen.

  The BBB wasn’t likely to turn over information without a warrant, and how was I going to get a warrant?

  I had speculation, and I could tell them what happened to my friend’s family years ago, but that wouldn’t be enough to get a warrant. It would be enough to cost me my job when the DA called my lieutenant and told him I’d been pursuing some half-ass investigation.

  And the DA would call. She was a hard-ass about that.

  I had to have proof of some actual wrong-doing, and complaints with the BBB, most of which were several years old, just weren’t going to do it.

  Rubbing my eyes, I leaned back from my desk and yawned. I was exhausted. I’d been up until nearly one the night before, and habit had me up at the crack of dawn even though it was my day off.

  After hitting the gym, I’d come back home and showered, then turned to the internet to unearth what I could about Gabriel Marks. Since I had no other resources, I’d have to rely on what I could find on my own.

  “A name,” I muttered. If I could just find a name, somebody who might be willing to talk to me, I’d have somewhere to start.

  If you hadn’t been so gung-ho about this, you would have had Nicco to talk to. Maybe even one of his sisters…you could have tried to talk to Suria. She’s over the age of eighteen, and she’s probably not a fan of her father’s. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be living a couple hours away from him.

  Grimacing, I rubbed my temple and wished I could silence that annoying voice, but there was no doing that. Hindsight was twenty-twenty and all that shit.

  Besides, there had to be something. A man couldn’t go living the sort of life Marks had lived and not leave a trail behind him.

  Gathering up the reports from the BBB, I started to study the names, wondering if there were enough clues that maybe I could track one of them down just by the info they’d left in the reports. It was possible.

  I skimmed each of them, separating the pages into piles.

  I was halfway done when a text came through from my father.

  It was an invite to watch a ballgame on Saturday with him and a couple of my brothers at the 831. It was in the evening, but not too late that I’d be a zombie at work.

  Assuming I didn’t end up costing myself my job over the next few days.

  Abruptly, as if he were standing in the room with me, I heard my dad’s voice. You sure it’s worth losing your job over, baby? You can help a lot of people, but not if you end up losing your job right out of the gate.

  Groaning, I covered my eyes with my hands.

  My subconscious had now taken on the voice of my dad. And I had no doubt it was my subconscious speaking to me. It had been giving me subtle hints along the way for a while and had practically screamed at me the afternoon I’d reached out to talk to Joelle.

  After the subtle warning from my boss, it was a wonder that quiet little voice wasn’t shouting in my ear around the clock.

  I didn’t want to lose my job.

  But I didn’t want to go back on a promise I’d made to my best friend either.

  She doesn’t even know you made her that promise, the little devil inside me whispered. You made that promise to yourself.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled. “It was still a promise.”

  A promise was a promise, right?

  And shouldn’t somebody like Gabriel Marks be stopped? He didn’t deserve to keep going out there and swindling people, hurting people. There was no telling how many lives he’d ruined.

  But he’s not the only bad guy, my inner devil whispered. And you’re new. You’re just getting started. He’s not in your jurisdiction. You have next to no control right now. If you wait, you’ll be able to do more. You can watch him. You can wait. You can learn.

  Swearing, I got up and started to pace. A few of the pages drifted to the floor, but I ignored them.

  Was that what I was going to do? Wait? Wait even longer than I already had?

  Bringing him down isn’t going to bring Mr. Mike back. This time, that little voice inside seemed softer, gentler. Does it matter if you bring him down now if it costs you your job? And how can you bring him down on your own?

  On my own. It sounded lonely. And hard.

  In a few years, I planned on testing for my detective’s shield, then moving into the fraud department. I’d know more then. Could I wait until that time? I found myself in the kitchen, and I moved to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a bottle of beer.

  Twisting off the cap, I lifted it to my lips and drained half the bottle.

  My face was overheated, my thoughts racing.

  I had no idea what the right thing to do was.

  I wanted to talk to somebody – ask somebody what I should do.

  But I already knew what my father would say, even what most of my brothers would say. They would tell me I shouldn’t risk my badge. If waiting would prove more prudent, then I should wait.

  I could help more people if I waited.

  But what if Gabriel Marks hurt more people during that time?

  What if there was another Mary Jo out there, another Mr. Mike? What if another family was destroyed because I waited?

  Could I live with myself?

  Could I look at myself in the mirror every morning for the rest of my life?

  Of course, I was having a hard time doing it right now, because every time I did, I kept seeing the way Nicco had looked at me right before he stormed out of the police department the other day. A look of fury and disgust. It had left me feeling a little gutted.

  I lifted the bottle to my lips again and drained it. Tossing it into the bin I used for recycling, I turned around and slumped against the counter.

  There was no easy answer here.

  A yearning need to talk to Nicco rose inside me. I didn’t know if he’d have the answers I needed, but I just wanted to talk to him. And I’d lost that right, ever since trying to talk to his kid sister. Idiot. Moron.

  What had I expected a kid to be able to tell me anyway?

  I shoved off the counter and started to pace once more.

  Maybe Dad was right. Maybe I did need to back away from this. I was losing objectivity. Talking to a kid without the okay of a parent or guardian was a capital no. Every rookie learned that. I knew that. But even as young as Joelle looked, even though I knew she’d lied to me when I asked her how old she was, had I backed off?

  Of course not.

  I could try to excuse the whole ordeal by telling myself that I hadn’t been questioning her, exactly. I just wanted information about her father. I already knew he lived in LA. I could find the rest out on my own, but I needed more than that to bring him down.

  But did I really think a sixteen-year-old kid would help bring down her own d
ad?

  A new thought hit me in that moment.

  Joelle wasn’t living with her father anymore. That much was apparent. I could always assume she was here visiting her brother, but I had a gut deep feeling that she had left her father.

  Both her and Suria.

  Why?

  I mean, I wouldn’t live with a schmuck like that either. But if I’d been raised around him, would I even realize just what kind of schmuck he was?

  Joelle had seemed like a sweet kid.

  I had no idea what to think of Suria, other than the fact that she was blindly, passionately protective of her little sister. I couldn’t fault her for that.

  I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Joelle, her responses when I’d asked those precious few questions about her father. I’d only be able to ask a few before Suria had shown up, and nothing specific.

  But Joelle’s answers…

  “She’s afraid of him,” I whispered to myself.

  And now I didn’t even have any way of finding out why.

  Nine

  Nicco

  The headache had gotten predictably worse, and the first thing I planned on doing when I got out of here was hitting the stash of ibuprofen I kept in my desk at my office.

  Then I’d put that bottle in my briefcase, so I’d have it on me when I came in on Wednesday. I’d committed twelve hours a week to the police department for the foreseeable future. That meant I’d committed myself to headaches for the foreseeable future, and all of them came at a piss-poor consultation fee too.

  It was a good thing I was financially stable. The police department couldn’t pay nowhere near my going rate.

  But the prospect of working on a task force like this was enough to outweigh the lousy fee I’d bring in, and since I’d talked them down from twenty hours a week to twelve, I could still commit the bulk of my week to my regular work.

  I didn’t have to worry about the lights going out anytime soon.

  I secured all the work I’d done and powered down the computer. As I reached for my briefcase, a shadow passed in front of the door and stopped. I stood there as a knock sounded. “Come in,” I said, although I really wanted to just be quiet and hope whoever it was went away.

  It couldn’t be Steppes – the shadow wasn’t big enough.

  Aside from Steppes, the only other people I had to talk to were the two FBI agents assigned to the task force, and they’d both left shortly after the meeting concluded earlier.

  The door swung in, and a vaguely familiar man filled the doorway. He wasn’t quite as big as Steppes – I’d been right on that. But he was big enough. His hairline showed signs of receding, but all that did was draw attention to high arched brows and a pair of bright, snapping green eyes.

  Green eyes. And red hair.

  A memory flashed, and I knew exactly where I’d seen him from. “You’re one of Ravenna’s brothers,” I said flatly.

  “I am. Sargent Carl Sinclair.” He offered a big, broad hand, and I accepted slowly, wondering just what this visit was going to be about.

  He glanced around the microscopic office and grimaced. “They sure as hell gave you some digs, didn’t they?” he said wryly.

  “Pulled out all the stops,” I said, amused by the way this conversation seemed to echo the one I’d had with Steppes.

  “So, I see.” He edged farther into the room and twisted his body into what was an impressive fashion so he could shut the door behind him. “I’d ask for a seat, but it appears there’s only room for the one you got, so I’m good to stand. I just need a minute.”

  “Okay. I take it this is about Ravenna.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I waited.

  “It is.” He ran his tongue across his teeth, taking me in.

  I didn’t do or say anything, just waited.

  “I understand why you’re pissed,” he finally said. “I’d be pissed if some cop had decided to talk to her back when she was still a kid too. But she’s got reasons to be hot about what happened when your father messed with her friend’s family.”

  “I should point out…I don’t see him as my father,” I said, keeping my voice level. “He was a sperm donor. Nothing else. And I don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to him. But yes, I’m…pissed that she decided to go and talk to my sixteen-year-old sister about anything. It was over the line.”

  Carl held up his hands. “Like I said. I get why you’re pissed. But I don’t think you get why she’s so messed up.”

  I shoved a hand back through my hair. “She told me about what happened, okay? I know Marks took her friend’s family for a ride and left them broke.” Laughing bitterly, I dropped down into my seat and leaned back, staring up at him. “You think it’s easy hearing that the man who helped make me is capable of shit like that? Let me tell you, it’s not. I’ve lived most of my life doing everything I can to distance myself from him, from the shadow he cast on the early part of my life – how he affected my mother, all of it. He fucked up her friend’s life, but let me assure you, he fucked up mine as well. He fucked up the lives of my sisters too. He poisons everything he touches. That doesn’t give me or anybody else the right to go and screw with people or break the fucking law, sergeant. And you probably know that.”

  “Have I once said that she did the right thing?” Sinclair asked, his voice remarkably mild. “I’m pretty sure I’ve said the opposite. She screwed up. But she’s a young cop. Young cops make mistakes. Older cops make mistakes. I imagine people in your profession make mistakes too.”

  An uneasy feeling twisted in my gut. “If this is because I went and talked to her lieutenant, maybe you should think about what could have happened if she’d actually gotten any information from my sister. Maybe she got lucky, got enough to start building some sort of case against Marks, but then it’s found out it’s all built on information she got from a minor. I saved her a lot of shit in the long run. You can’t do anything based on the word of a minor who was questioned without a parent or guardian. If a civilian like me knows that, then she should damn well know it. If she doesn’t, does she have any business being a cop?”

  “I don’t have any problem with her LT coming down on her.” Carl crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a sardonic look. “The LT is a friend of mine, and he called me in, informed me about what happened before anybody else could. FYI, if the LT had gone soft on her, I would have laid into her myself. She was wrong, plain and simple. No, I’m not here because of that.”

  “Then why the fuck are you here?” I asked bluntly.

  He cocked his head. “There’s something going on between you and my sister, isn’t there?”

  I blinked.

  Okay, that was unexpected.

  “What makes you ask that?” I asked softly.

  “Well, your response just confirmed it.” Sinclair shook his head. “First off, approaching a woman – a cop – in the place she works will just set off a shitload of gossip, Alexander. Cops gossip worse than a bunch of little old ladies. It’s a well-known fact.”

  Blood rushed to my cheeks.

  “Then I get word from her partner that he’s seen two of you looking rather…close over dinner,” he said, shrugging. “So…there’s something going on between you and my sister.”

  “There was,” I allowed.

  “And you’re going to let this come between you?”

  “This has to do with that fact that she questioned my kid sister over something that happened years ago. That kid sister of mine has been through more hell than you can imagine, and she didn’t need a cop pressuring her for shit,” I snapped.

  “Something that happened years ago?” Sinclair echoed. His eyes narrowed on me. “Just what exactly did Ravenna tell you about her friend’s family, Alexander?”

  I waved a hand through the air, getting irritated. “I know Gabriel Marks conned her friend’s family out of money and left them broke. It sucks. He’s done it before. He’s good at it. But Joelle would have been a little kid then. She can’t hel
p any of you with that.” Blowing out a breath, I shook my head. “I get that it must have been hard for her friend, but she’s got no business questioning my sister.”

  “No,” Sinclair said, agreeably. “She doesn’t. But you’re wrong about something…it wasn’t just hard for her friend. It was beyond devastating. And it hit Ravenna harder than you seem to think. Matter of fact, I get the feeling Ravenna didn’t tell you the entire story.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, rising from behind the desk.

  “Just that. Maybe you should consider talking to her and getting that entire story. It might surprise you.” He reached for the doorknob but paused to look back at me. “If she means anything – or if she did – you really should go and talk to her. But…hey, that’s up to you.”

  Once he slid out, I sank back down into my chair, staring off at nothing.

  But I didn’t sit there for long.

  Whatever it was Ravenna hadn’t told me, I was going to find out.

  Now.

  Ten

  Ravenna

  Between listening to the voices arguing back and forth in my head and staying huddled over my computer as I had been, by the time afternoon rolled around, I was battling a headache – and a backache. I took a break around one and scavenged in the kitchen, depressed by how little food there was. I needed to hit the grocery store.

  After putting some water on to boil for some ramen noodles, I took some ibuprofen for my headache and back before grabbing a pen and a piece of paper to start my list.

  The thoughts in my head eluded me.

  Why couldn’t I just put food down?

  “Because you’ve done that before and spent most of your paycheck and came back with nothing but junk food, beer, and wine. Make a list, Rave,” I muttered to myself.