He wanted to make her happy—to tell her everything was okay now, but he couldn’t lie. He couldn’t tell her she was now safe just because he was there. Nor could he say everything would be all right. His gut tightened, knowing he had to be realistic. Unless she had some very specific information, they didn’t even know what they were dealing with or really even whom. In the major scheme of things, as bad as he was, Blair Kincaid was just a little cog in a very big wheel.
“Maybe we should get out of the hallway. Let’s go inside your apartment, so we can talk.”
When she backed up, her cheeks turned a most charming shade of pink. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This way.”
Sarah’s apartment was much like he imagined it would be. Being Thursday, and knowing her busy schedule, he could understand why it was so messy, especially since he knew she wasn’t expecting him. He didn’t know whether or not to be amused that she made no apologies as she guided him through the kitchen, strewn with unwashed dishes, and into the living room. She picked up a couple of books, a notepad, and a pen off the couch, then refolded a newspaper that was spread all over the coffee table and picked it up as well. She rammed the pile into an already overstuffed magazine pouch on the floor and motioned for him to sit down.
Mess aside, the apartment was small and very utilitarian. The furniture was sparse, but appeared comfortable and practical, once he could see it.
He sat on one end of the couch, and Sarah sat on the other. He pulled his notepad out of his pocket. “Did something happen last night?”
She nodded so fast her hair bounced. “He came in again. He’s got this really ugly nose, with a bump right here.” She pressed one finger to the bridge of her own nose, not moving her finger when she continued. “I guess he’s about 35, but he could be younger and just look older because he’s ugly. I didn’t see what color his eyes were, but his hair is cut real short all around. It’s a kind of nondescript dark brown, no grey, and it’s all the same length—like it’s been shaved and he’s growing it back. His hairline is kind of receding, but I couldn’t see if he had a bald spot on top and he’s got like five earrings on his ear.” Her finger moved from her nose to her left ear. “He also has a birthmark on his cheek and a totally ugly scar on his chin.”
She switched hands and used the index finger of her right hand to draw a straight line on the side of her chin, exactly matching the scar Blair Kincaid obtained from his last knife altercation. “And he’s five-foot-ten-and-a-half in his shoes. When he came through the door, I saw where his head came up to on the poster they put beside the door. When Donnie was in the bathroom, I measured it.”
Matt jotted everything down, even though he knew the answers before she said them. There was no doubt in his mind the guy she was describing. He could especially confirm the ugly part, because Blair Kincaid was ugly from the inside out.
He closed the notepad. “That’s a great description.” He stood and grinned, trying to quell the anxiety that had begun to eat at his stomach now that what he had dreaded was confirmed. “Good work, Detective Cunningham.”
The second her name left his mouth, he mentally kicked himself. She hadn’t told him her last name. The only reason he knew was because he’d called up her personal information from her license plate number. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to know her address, either. All she’d ever given him was her phone number. The only thing he was officially supposed to know was her first name from her tag at the donut shop.
She didn’t seem to notice. Sarah also jumped to her feet. “Wait! There’s more! I know what is in those briefcases he brings in.”
Matt’s heart started beating faster, but he didn’t move. “Go on.”
She sank back down to the couch, so Matt did too.
“Money. Lots of money. He brought another one today. I don’t know how much it was, but that briefcase was completely full. So was the first one, because I heard the sound of the first one as it hit the desk, and it was stuffed. This morning when Blair came in with another briefcase, it took Donnie over half an hour to count it, there was that much. I don’t know it’s the same briefcase going back and forth, but if there’s more than one, they’re identical. I’ve seen three so far come in, but I never see any going out. Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
“Not for sure. We only know that Kincaid is up to something. He’s already been under suspicion for a while. We just haven’t caught him yet. Then, once we figure out what he’s doing, we have to gather evidence to make an arrest and get a conviction. Just catching him with a suitcase of money is mighty suspicious, but unless we know how and where he got it, there’s nothing we can do.”
Sarah’s voice lowered, and she leaned toward him. “I’ll bet they’re laundering money.”
Matt made a few more notes, then tucked the pad back into his pocket. “That would be my guess too. I’ll have to make out a report and forward it to my shift NCO, and we’ll take it from there. From Kincaid’s history, it looks like it would be drug money, and Donnie’s laundering it. This is going to be quite an investigation.”
“How long do you think it will take before you can arrest that Kincaid guy?”
“I can’t answer that until I know what we’re dealing with.”
Matt should have stood, but he couldn’t move. He sat on the couch, transfixed by Sarah’s enchanting sea green eyes. She was staring at him, watching, waiting for him to say something, although he didn’t know what.
Her voice dropped even lower, in both pitch and volume. “What about Donnie?”
Matt straightened. “I don’t know. It looks like he’s the one actually laundering the money, so he’s obviously going to be arrested. But with Blair Kincaid involved, there’s a much bigger picture. We’re going to leave them alone and see what develops, and then arrest everyone involved at once.”
“If Donnie’s arrested and thrown in jail, what will happen to the donut shop? What about my job? And everybody else who works there?”
Matt cleared his throat. “If he’s convicted for laundering money, under the criminal code all assets that can be proven to be obtained by illegal earnings are seized. The taxation department jumps on these things pretty quick, as that’s money that can be made for the taxpayer. The business could be bought by someone else, after the fees and legal bills are paid, which would be a lot after it goes to trial. If no one buys it, then it just closes down, and the government takes what is owed. If there’s anything left by then.”
His heart constricted as Sarah slumped and buried her face in her hands. “It’s bad enough that I’ve been spying on my boss. But if the business is suddenly shut down, what am I going to do? I’ll never get another job that will give me the hours I need to keep going to school. It was hard enough to find this one. I can’t survive without a job. I need something to live on while I go to school.”
“These things don’t happen overnight. Sometimes investigations take months. Sometimes the big ones go on for over a year.”
She raised her head. “And sometimes they happen in days.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen this time. Not with the amount of money it appears we’re dealing with.”
Her face paled. “Am I going to get fingered?”
“Fingered?”
“If they find out I’m the one supplying this information, am I going to get bumped off? You know. Like, cement overshoes?”
“This isn’t an old gangster movie, Sarah. People call in tips like this all the time. It’s not as if you’re directly involved in the middle of things and you’re the only person who could know what is going on. If you’re careful and don’t show that you know anything, when they get busted, they’ll just chalk it up to another sterling RCMP investigation. As I said, we’ve already got Kincaid under suspicion. And this time, I’m going to get him. All of him.”
Her eyes widened. Matt should have left at that moment, but he couldn’t have moved if he wanted to.
“That sounded personal.”
He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not in a position to talk about it.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
He patted the pocket with the note pad in it. “You do realize that even if you’ve changed your mind about how far you want to go with this, I have to report everything you’ve said. You can request to remain anonymous for the purpose of further investigation, but I have to put your name on the report as a complainant, or else we’re back to square one.”
She was silent for a very long minute. She gulped. “I know. I guess I didn’t think this the whole way through—or what would happen after I found out what was going on and all that. I don’t even know what’s really going on. Only that there’s lots of money involved.”
Matt finally stood. They walked in silence to the door. Matt removed his hat and turned around before opening the door and walking into the hallway. “I guess I won’t see you on my break tomorrow.”
“No. Tonight is my last night to work. For you, the wee hours after midnight is still Thursday night, but for me, since I start at midnight, it’s the start of my day Friday. I get off work when everyone else is starting their day. Most people don’t understand how that works.”
He nodded. “Working odd hours can be very confusing to someone who has only worked nine to five.” He paused. While he didn’t talk, he rotated the hat in his hands by the brim. If nothing else urgent came up, he wouldn’t see her until his next nightshift coffee break that happened between Sunday night and Thursday night. He’d counted ahead on his calendar, and that wasn’t going to happen again for two weeks.
While he knew he shouldn’t have been pursuing a relationship with a non-Christian, she had been to church twice. While he hoped she was drawing closer to God, he didn’t know where she was, and as such, he wasn’t going to date her. But they could at least be friends. When off-duty, of course.
“Can I see you tomorrow afternoon? You’ll be finished with classes at noon, right? I don’t have to be at the station for debriefing until six-thirty at night. It’s a strange transition for me, switching between days and nights in one day. I usually sleep for a few hours to make it a regular night after working days, but I get up really early so I can go back to bed about three in the afternoon and grab a few hours of sleep before starting the next twelve-hour shift at 7:00 p.m.”
She smiled. Something in Matt’s stomach went haywire, telling him he probably should have had lunch.
“You know, I understand that. Would you like to go out for lunch? We just have to make sure we don’t go too late, so you can get a decent sleep before you have to go to work.”
He continued to rotate the hat in his hands. “Sounds good. Want me to pick you up? I always go to the gym between day and night shift. It helps to tire me out so I can sleep in the middle of the day.” He set the hat back on his head and patted his stomach with one hand. “I’ve got to keep in shape. Some days I sit too much, driving around all the time.”
Matt forced himself to hold back a smile when she looked down to his stomach, blushed, then quickly returned her gaze to his face.
“I’ll be coming from the university, so how about if we just meet somewhere?”
He didn’t always want to meet her, then go their separate ways from a parking lot. It may have been old-fashioned of him, but Matt wanted to be able to pick her up and return her to her door. But, as they both knew the hard way, shift work had a way of taking a toll on a person’s life. “I guess that would work,” he muttered.
They chose a restaurant halfway between the university and the gym and picked a time.
When he wrapped his hand around the doorknob, before he had time to pull the door open, Sarah’s tiny hand covered his.
“Before you go, I want to thank you for coming to talk to me. I was really scared, and even though nothing’s changed, by your coming now and not waiting until tonight, you’ve made me feel a lot better. Mostly, thanks for being honest with me about what could possibly happen. At least I know what to expect, and I can get ready for it.”
“No problem. I should be the one thanking you for doing the right thing. Not everyone would stick their neck out like this.”
“Well. . .anyway. . .” She lifted her hand. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled and made his way out.
All the way to the car, Matt felt incomplete, like there was something he hadn’t wrapped up properly. The trouble was, he knew exactly what he hadn’t done.
He shouldn’t have felt this way, and he certainly didn’t have the right to do so, but he had wanted to kiss her goodbye.
“16Bravo4. Back in service,” he said to the radio as he settled into the car and prepared to drive away.
“16Bravo4,” echoed the dispatcher. “Disturbance at Mayfair Park, east entrance, 5th and Pineridge. A male juvenile hit a parked car with a bike. No injuries, but the motorist has seized the bike. The juvenile isn’t very happy. Witness reporting says threats have been issued. You’re first responder.”
Matt reached forward to turn on the flashing lights and sped off. “16Bravo4 copy,” he muttered, then turned the siren on to wail.
If there were anything he could appreciate about the job, it was that no two days were the same.
Nine
Sarah looked around as she walked into the big building. Matt had just come off two night shifts. For him, working a twelve-hour shift meant Saturday night stretched into Sunday morning. So being Saturday night, she knew he seldom got off on time, on what was typically the busiest night shift of the week. Therefore, he never knew if he would be at church when his rotation fell that way. He’d said that there were times that he was still working or filling in reports at ten o’clock when church was starting, even though he was “supposed” to get off at seven. Or, if he did get off, he was typically exhausted after working all night, so the alternate was that he would be passed out in bed.
Since she didn’t immediately see him, she hoped he was sleeping because she certainly hoped he wasn’t still working.
Therefore, today she was alone. She couldn’t even sit with Gwen and Lionel because they were still away on vacation. But that was okay.
For the first time in her life, Sarah wanted to come to church, even if she had to sit alone. For the past two weeks, the pastor’s message about God loving people who made bad decisions had been fascinating. At first she’d felt very safe about going to heaven, since the Bible talked about these people having committed major sins like murder and adultery. She’d never killed anyone, and she wasn’t married, so she couldn’t commit adultery. She led a good life, and she was basically a good person.
But at the tail end of last week’s sermon, the pastor had talked about other sins that weren’t so bad. Lying. Cheating. Even speeding or rolling through a stop sign. Most of the people in the congregation had responded with a nervous laugh about that—everyone except Matt. He gave people tickets for those sins. She hadn’t felt bad until the pastor pointed out that heaven was only for those who were as perfect as God, which meant no sins at all, not even the little ones.
Sarah figured she led a pretty good life, but she certainly wasn’t as perfect as God. In their conversation on Friday, before Matt started his first night shift, he’d mentioned that even though he might face death in the line of duty, he didn’t fear dying.
Matt was a good man. Matt was even a wonderful man. But he wasn’t as perfect as God. Yet he said he knew he was going to heaven, without a doubt.
Today, she wanted to hear more. In fact, she thought she’d pay attention better if she didn’t have Matt sitting beside her.
On her journey into the sanctuary, a few people she’d met before welcomed her. Sarah felt good that they recognized her. She chatted for a few minutes then continued on her way. She settled into a corner seat and followed the order of the service just as she had when Matt had been with her. This time, she was a little more familiar with the routine. She could even s
ing along with two of the songs, which helped ease the feeling of being a stranger. As expected, the pastor’s sermon had her nearly riveted on the edge of her seat as he spoke about how salvation was for everyone who simply believed.
The sermon ended before he could explain exactly what it meant to believe.
And that meant only one thing. Sarah knew she would be back again next week.
A few more people whom she’d met when she was with Matt greeted her on the way out. She even stopped to talk to someone in the parking lot who recognized her from the donut shop, which was a pleasant surprise.
Her tummy rumbled at the same time as the motor of her car roared to a start, making Sarah smile. With the graphic reminder, Sarah drove straight home, intending to make a quick lunch with whatever she had on hand. However, one look at the kitchen stopped her dead in her tracks.
All weekend long, instead of catching up on her housework, she’d been frantically catching up on her homework. For the first time in months, after studying and writing all weekend, she was now ahead on her assignments. Before she realized the state of the rest of her apartment, she thought she could relax. However, she couldn’t do that—she couldn’t even eat until she at least found room on the counter to make herself a sandwich.
Mentally kicking herself, Sarah grabbed an apple to munch. She ate it while she cleaned up the backlog of dirty dishes and scrubbed the counter and sink clean. She was halfway through washing the floor when the phone rang.
A low and very pleasant voice drifted over the line. “Hi, Sarah.”
“Matt? What are you doing awake? What time did you get to bed?”
“I only had to stay an hour late this morning, so I fell asleep about nine.”
Sarah looked at the clock and counted on her fingers. “It’s one now. That means you’ve had only four hours sleep.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve gotten by with less. Besides, I don’t want to sleep all day. What are you doing? Want to do it together?”
Sarah glanced into the living room. It was fairly clean. The biggest mess was her papers strewn about the coffee table, and her current textbook open and face down on the arm of the couch, which seemed to be its permanent place unless she was in class.
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