Sugar and Sin Bundle

by Stacey Joy Netzel

“I might not know much, but you can’t arrest me if you don’t properly identify yourself.”

  She rolled her eyes, and Rémi had to work not to laugh. “Like I said before, get your facts straight.” She pointed to a spot just above her right pocket. “Name tag’s right here. That’s all the identification I need to arrest you.”

  But she hadn’t arrested the kid. If she had, Corey would be down at the station, not in Raksótha’s living room. “What happened?” Rémi asked.

  “He was doing forty in a ninety kilometer zone. I signaled for him to pull over. He increased his speed to one hundred and fifty kilometers an hour. I pursued. A half mile from the reserve border, he ditched his vehicle and ran into the woods. Given the suspicious behavior, I followed and apprehended him.”

  Corey sneered. “Don’t forget to tell them how you attacked me.”

  “I saved your life, you ingrate.”

  Rémi arched a brow. As Alyssa explained how close Corey had come to being killed by an oncoming train, a feeling of admiration grew in his chest. Despite her steel-capped boots, Kevlar vest, and the ten or so pounds of equipment at her waist, this woman had managed to out-run, out-leap, and out-wrestle an unruly teen.

  Grandfather held out his hand. “Thank you, Sergeant.” Then he cuffed Corey on the shoulder. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  Startled, Corey’s head shot up, and for the first time, Rémi got a clear view of the kid’s bloodshot eyes. Lava boiled through his veins. He lunged forward and grabbed Corey by the front of his jacket. But again, Alyssa stepped between him and his goal. He threw her an irritated look, then focused on the boy. “You’re fucking stoned.”

  “Yeah, so?” Corey glared back at him.

  The belligerence in his tone and posture hit Rémi like a two-by-four. A soul-deep sense of failure replaced the anger, making him dizzy. Corey was at a crossroads, and Rémi was losing him. He blinked to clear his vision. “And you were driving?”

  Corey grinned. It was time for some tough love.

  Rémi’s gaze locked with Alyssa’s. “Arrest him.”

  Alyssa stared into burning jade eyes. Was Rémi serious, or was he attempting some sort of reverse psychology? He had to know she hadn’t followed police procedure. Any arrest she made now would get booted out of court.

  When he continued to hold her gaze, she nodded. She’d play his game and see where it went. As long as it didn’t screw up her plans for the kid. Straightening her shoulders, she walked around Rémi and shoved Corey up against the wall. “Hands behind your head. Corey Simon, you are under arrest for driving under the influence. Do you understand?” She pulled one arm behind his back and handcuffed his wrist.

  Corey struggled to turn around. “What the—”

  “You have the right to retain and instruct counsel without delay.” She glanced at Rémi to see if he was still on board. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he watched her intently. When he motioned with his chin, she continued. “We will provide you with a toll-free telephone lawyer referral service, if you do not have your own lawyer.”

  The man Rémi had been talking with outside pushed forward. Tommy Skye. A little shorter and stockier than Rémi, with dark hair brushing the tops of his shoulders, he was easily recognizable from his photo in the file on the Defenders. His shocked eyes ping-ponged between her and the kid before finally settling on Rémi. “Come on. I know you’re pissed, but giving the kid over to the enemy? That’s anti-Indian.”

  Tommy considered her the enemy? How was she ever going to convince him to let the SQ manage a native squad on the reserve? With that kind of attitude, he’d fight her until the bitter end.

  Rémi’s face darkened as he folded his arms across his wide chest. “What do you suggest we do, Tommy? He doesn’t understand how serious this is. Next time, and I guarantee you there will be a next time, he might kill someone.”

  Tommy turned to their grandfather. “We won’t let it get that far. Will we, Rakso?”

  Alyssa blinked at the unfamiliar name, but since Tommy was clearly addressing Chief Whitedeer, she figured it had to mean something like grandfather. The chief turned to her and raised an eyebrow, but this wasn’t her show. She arched her brow back at him.

  Corey struggled against her grip. “Chief Whitedeer, you can make Rémi change his mind.”

  She cuffed his second wrist and swung him around. “Anything you say can be used in court as evidence. Do you understand?”

  Chief Whitedeer rested his hands on his hips and stared the boy down. “There is only one way to change Rémi’s mind.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  Good. The boy’s voice wasn’t nearly so belligerent now. While working with the organized crime division, she’d seen kids in all stages of drug use, from the experimental users like Corey to hard-core addicts who’d kill for a fix. It would take a lot more than the fear of arrest to straighten the kid up. But at least it was a start.

  “You’re going to work with Rémi and Sergeant Morgan to identify who’s bringing drugs into our community. We’ve ignored this situation for too long, but you can help us now.”

  Alyssa did a double-take. Was the chief a mind reader or just very wise? He’d plucked the plan right out of her head. Having Corey as an informant was exactly what she needed. But would Rémi go for it, or did he really want the kid to have a DUI on his record?

  Rémi pinned the kid with a glare that should have had him shaking in his skate shoes. “If we do this, you’ll continue your daily counseling sessions.” He waited for Corey to agree before continuing. “And every night at eight, you need to text me.”

  “What? Every night?”

  “I want to know where you are and who you’re with.”

  “You aren’t my fucking warden.”

  “One can be arranged, kid,” Alyssa muttered. She wanted to smack him but settled for a sharp shake. When Corey regained his balance, he stepped into her space, intent on intimidating her. She shot him her best beauty-pageant smile and batted her lashes. She’d faced much bigger challenges than this punk.

  Behind the kid’s back, Rémi rolled his eyes, and Alyssa almost laughed. She was having way too much fun tonight. “So, what’s it going to be, kid? A trip down to the station? Or you agree to Rémi’s terms and I drive you home?”

  All his bravado gone, Corey’s shoulders slumped and he bowed his head. “Okay, I’ll work with you and Rémi.”

  “And?” Rémi pressed.

  “And I’ll text you every night.”

  Alyssa smiled as she uncuffed him. “There’s no third chance. I’ll lock you up in a heartbeat if I catch you drunk or on drugs again. Come on, let’s get you home.”

  Corey rubbed his wrists. “I’ll walk.”

  “No you won’t. You’re getting my special door-to-door service, courtesy of the SQ. Rémi, I’ll drive you back to your car after.”

  Rémi frowned. “My car?”

  Uh-oh. Corey seemed to shrink to half his size as he took refuge behind Tommy. And who could blame him? A dark expression descended on Rémi’s face, transforming his features. He appeared as formidable as any biker she’d dealt with, like a warrior of old. Shifting her weight, she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Corey was driving your car when I stopped him. I take it you didn’t lend it to him?”

  Rémi pinched the bridge of his nose. Alyssa held her breath. When Corey opened his mouth, Rémi cut him off with a slice of his hand. “Not a fucking word. Get in the squad car before I wring your neck.”

  In silence, she took Corey by the elbow and led him to the cruiser. When they passed by, Tommy’s mouth twitched. So, the man had a sense of humor after all. To anyone who wasn’t Rémi, the situation was pretty ironic—kid steals drug counselor’s car to do drugs.

  After securing Corey in the back seat, she and Rémi sat in the front. He gave her directions to Corey’s house and five minutes later, the kid walked out of her care and into his mother’s. She made a U-turn and stopped the car in a dark section of the stree
t where she could observe the front and back of the house.

  “Why are we parking here?” Rémi asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  He dropped his head onto the seat back. “What a long, crap-tastic day.”

  “When you get your car back, it’ll feel even longer.”

  Rémi’s head shot up. “What happened to it?”

  “Unless you’re an avid fan of eau de cannabis, you’re going to want to take your car for a complete interior detail.”

  “The little shit smoked up in my car? I can’t believe that kid.” He grabbed the door handle.

  She clamped her fingers around his arm. “Where’re you going?”

  “To strangle him.”

  He looked so fierce, she almost smiled. Poor Rémi. She really did feel for the guy. But maybe he was mad about something else. A lot of the drug counselors she’d met were recovering drug addicts themselves. “Is the smell going to be an issue for you? I can drive you home, and you can have the car towed.”

  He closed the door and sat back. “I can handle it.” Noting the grim line of his lips, she felt a twinge of disappointment. Addicts never truly recovered. Most were weak-willed, and few could ever be trusted. If Rémi was a drug addict, former or otherwise, he was off-limits. He pointed to something behind the kid’s house. “Where’s he going?”

  “Probably to warn his dealer.”

  Rémi turned his head sharply. “You knew he was going to leave?” When she nodded, he gritted his teeth. “So what now?”

  “We follow him.”

  His brows shot up. “No way.”

  “Why not? We follow him, we find out who’s bringing drugs onto the reserve. Seems like a no-brainer to me.”

  “The Iroquois don’t spy on each other.”

  She met his gaze. “No? They just steal from each other, right? You need to understand something: whatever solution the task force comes up with, whoever ends up policing this community will most likely be a rookie crew.”

  “The two of us alone can’t stop the tide of drugs coming in,” Rémi said. “A tribal force composed of band members will have a strong foothold in the community. They’ll know who’s doing what. It’ll be very difficult for outsiders to sneak drugs onto the rez.”

  If the task force decided in favor of a tribal police force. And they wouldn’t if she got her way. “So how is that any different from spying?”

  He rubbed his temples. “Corey’s a client. It would be unethical for me to follow him around without his knowledge and consent.”

  She couldn’t let this chance pass. Resolving this drug issue was the simplest way to prove the SQ’s effectiveness and get the task force to vote in her favor. “Then get out of the car. I don’t need his permission.”

  “Are you for real?”

  “By the time a new squad is in place, the drug problem will be much more than the new recruits can handle.”

  “How does spying on a minor change that?”

  He seemed so ruffled, she was tempted to kiss him and make it all better. “We need to find out who’s bringing the drugs to the reserve. Stop the drugs coming in, and you’ve controlled the problem. It doesn’t matter how we get the information. It just matters that we do.”

  Rémi gave her a half smile. “Even if we could prevent all the drugs from entering Blackriver, the addicts would just find a new off-rez dealer. Besides, you said Corey was smoking pot. We’d still have to deal with all the other shit that finds its way here.”

  “True, but we’d be addressing a key part of the problem. Most kids who do hard drugs start with pot.” She touched his arm. The strength of his muscles and the warmth of his skin sent a tingle straight to her center, making her inhale sharply. She hurried to cover up her reaction. “It’s not the solution, but it is a start.”

  His eyes followed the stroking of her fingers. “You’re right. But I don’t want to do it this way. Corey agreed to help. Let me talk to him tomorrow. See what I can find out.”

  Fight or cave? One option got her what she wanted right now, the other got her what she wanted in the long run—an ally. “Okay, we’ll try it your way. But when he hands you a load of bullshit, you’ll learn.”

  “I’ve got to give him the benefit of the doubt. I can’t watch him 24/7, so he needs to know I trust him to make the right decisions. It’s what my grandfather did for me.”

  Damn. The drug counselor did have a history with drugs. Why couldn’t she have been wrong? She’d have to keep her eye on him. And not in the way she’d hoped. No matter how hot he looked, or how much he excited her, work with him was all she’d do. “Your grandfather helped you kick a drug habit?”

  Rémi’s voice filled with love and respect. “He saved my life.”

  It all made sense. Rémi wanted to pay back Dame Karma and be the kid’s savior. Hell, he wanted to save his whole community. Wasn’t that what this tribal police force was all about? Getting the SQ off First Nations land? How would he feel when he realized that via the task force, he’d in fact delivered the reserve right into the hands of the enemy?

  “You won’t fucking believe this,” Pete barked in Chaz’s ear as soon as he answered the phone. “Some white SQ bitch just drove right onto the rez in her squad car and dropped Corey off at your grandfather’s place.”

  Chaz’s stomach sank like a stone thrown in a lake—straight down. What were the odds of two different white women showing up in Blackriver on the same day? He muted the television. “Where’s Corey now?”

  “She let him go. But she’s parked outside the Simon house. Been there at least five minutes. I don’t know what she’s waiting for.”

  His hand tightened around the phone. She was waiting to follow the kid if he left the house. And since he’d told Corey to check in as soon as he got back from making the delivery, the kid was bound to sneak out and race over here. Shit! The stupid kid was going to lead the SQ right to his door. “Stay there. If Corey leaves the house and she tries to tail him, distract her.”

  “Sure thing. And Chaz?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Just thought you should know, Rémi’s with her.”

  “Let me guess. Tall, blonde, pretty?”

  “Fuckable is more like it. Well, if you like women wearing SQ green and Kevlar, which I don’t. But your cousin obviously does. You shoulda seen the look on his face when she climbed out of the cruiser.” His second in command grunted with laughter. “I thought he was gonna cream his pants right there on your grandfather’s front lawn.”

  “Thanks for the 411, Pete. Let me know if anything happens.” Chaz hung up the phone and threw it on the couch. What the fuck was Rémi doing with the Snow Queen? It was bad enough when he’d thought she was just a pretty white woman. But an SQ officer? Fuck no.

  A knock on the back door interrupted his thoughts. His feet ate up the distance, but he screeched to a halt when Corey’s face appeared through the screen. Recovering quickly, he threw the door open and yanked the kid inside. “Anyone follow you?”

  The kid seemed startled. “No. At least I don’t think so.”

  Chaz rolled his eyes. Moron didn’t know his ass from his face. “Get in the living room and stay away from the windows,” he growled. When the kid started moving, Chaz stepped through the screen door into the darkness of his yard and peered into the shadows. Then he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the night. If anyone was hiding near his house, he’d know. After a few minutes, satisfied that he was alone, he went back inside.

  Corey was sprawled out on the living room couch, flipping through the TV channels.

  In the light, Chaz saw Corey’s eyes and he didn’t like what their glassy appearance told him. He grabbed the remote and switched the TV off. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Before speaking, Corey swallowed and licked his lips. “I… I’m reporting in, like you told me to.”

  Chaz inhaled deeply, trying to rein in his temper. “Are you aware that Rémi and the SQ bitch are sitting in a cr
uiser outside your house right now?”

  The kid’s eyebrows touched his bangs. “I thought they’d already left to get Rémi’s car.”

  Was it him or was every conversation with this kid as confusing as a corn maze at night? “I think you’d better start at the beginning.”

  Chaz dropped into the La-Z-Boy, a birthday gift from his wife, Sarah. Good thing she and the kids were staying with her parents tonight. There’d be no one to hear the kid scream if Chaz had to beat the shit out of him.

  Corey sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I made the drop like you told me. Nitro was there, along with a few others. I waited while they sampled the pot.”

  “And?”

  “They liked it. Said it was good shit. Nitro said to tell you the meet in two days is on.” Corey smiled.

  At least one thing was going right tonight. The Vipers had a very organized approach to drug deals, listing out milestones, sample delivery dates, and pass/fail criteria. Each success brought him closer to achieving his goal, closer to victory. But he couldn’t get cocky. One slip, one failure, and he’d be back to zero. He stared into the red eyes of the weak link sitting in front of him. The kid knew too much. And Chaz couldn’t risk him running to Rémi or the cops with the intel. Chaz frowned. “How does the SQ fit into this?”

  Corey’s smile faded. Good. At least the kid had a speck of self-preservation. Hopefully, it would be enough to spark the growth of some spine. “I was almost home when an SQ officer started chasing me. I pulled over and took off into the woods hoping to shake her, but she tackled me. Almost got me run over by a train.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Chaz scratched his chest. “So let me get this straight. For no reason at all, she goes after you. Then tries to throw you in front of a train.”

  Corey nodded. “Yeah, fucking bitch tried to kill me.”

  “For no reason.”

  When the little shit nodded again, Chaz gripped the arms of his chair to keep from throttling him. He kept his voice calm, even. Deadly. “Do I look stupid to you?”

  Corey swallowed. A drop of sweat meandered down the side of the boy’s hairless cheek. “Uh, no.”