Sweeter Than Sin

by Shiloh Walker

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jensen Bell hadn’t had a good morning. The chief wanted her to talk to a couple of scared, unhappy kids who had already been through hell. Wanted her to push them for information she didn’t think they had. Wanted her, specifically, to try to find any connection that might help the police figure out who was picking off members of the club. Members he hadn’t even realized were connected.

  People playing vigilante. They’d drive her insane.

  She was out of coffee—she’d had to spend the night at her place, because Dean had to go home to Lexington, juggling his cases like crazy to get it done, but he’d worked minor miracles. It hadn’t surprised her. His grandmother was sick, and there was nothing that man valued more than those he loved.

  That included Jensen, a fact that never failed to fill her with something like awe. He loved her. Just thinking about that made her morning a little brighter.

  Of course, if she’d slept at his place he would have had coffee. He never ran out.

  She’d had to settle for the lousy crap from the diner, because she really wasn’t in the mood to listen to Louisa’s unending attempts to get the good gossip.

  Instead of decent coffee, a morning of slow, lazy sex, Jensen had lousy coffee and had her ass handed to her because she hadn’t interrogated a couple of kids. The chief also told her he had faith in her, told her she was a good cop.

  Probably trying to psych her up to give those kids grief they didn’t need.

  Screw that.

  A good cop knew when to listen to her gut, and her gut told her that talking to the kids was a wrong move.

  Maybe she was looking at it wrong, but that wasn’t the avenue she wanted to take yet.

  There were other ways. Those kids had talked to others. One other in particular, at least as far as Caleb was concerned. So she’d do an end run around the kid and see if she couldn’t get answers another way.

  She started to head in through the front, but the large metal doors in the back were open and she veered in that direction instead.

  There she paused, and then, without a bit of guilt, she leaned against the wide-open doorway and looked her fill.

  For a preacher, Noah Benningfield was definitely a pretty thing to look at it.

  She had about forty-five uninterrupted seconds, watching as muscles gleamed and flexed, as fists pounded the bag with undeniable skill. Then he stopped abruptly, his blue eyes cutting her way as he realized he wasn’t alone.

  And judging by the way his blue eyes went grim, she decided he was also pretty damn insightful. She didn’t know if that was a preacher thing or not.

  * * *

  “I can’t help you, Jensen,” Noah said for the third time. He slammed his fist into the bag again, listening as chains rattled, metal clinked. Leather smacked against leather. Each time he hit the bag, he felt the jolt of it echo up his arm. It was like a vicious, beautiful song, and he wanted more. Needed more.

  I need to know if Caleb has told you anything.

  Caleb … scared, lonely boy … yeah.

  Noah had been talking with Caleb off and on, and the kid was slowly starting to talk more. He’d told Noah plenty.

  But none of it had come soon enough to help Caleb, to save him.

  Savagely Noah hit the bag again, harder this time, and he wondered if there was any way to take this weight off his chest. Any way to drain the fury, take out the poison.

  He was getting married in four days. Instead of focusing on his wedding and the woman he loved more than his own life, he had a cop in his shop.

  Instead of thinking about his upcoming wedding, he was thinking about the kids he’d failed.

  Instead of thinking about the short trip he and Trinity were taking, he was thinking about hunting down the few people he knew were involved and hurting them. Brutally. Thoughts that should be alien to him, unacceptable. But he couldn’t cut them out of his head.

  He shifted his stance and spun around, driving his heel back into the bag. The red rage creeping through him didn’t lessen. Imagining Glenn Blue up there on the bag didn’t help, even when Noah pictured himself pummeling the man bloody. The solemn, quiet voice of his father that usually managed to talk Noah down every time the anger got too loud wasn’t there, and right now rage was eating him.

  Poor Kevin, the way he’d looked when he’d seen Noah at church. So scared and ashamed.

  Noah had asked Kevin if wanted to talk. You can tell me, you know. If you need to talk, I’m here.

  Kevin had just shaken his head. They hadn’t—

  Then he’d looked away, dull red creeping up his cheeks. They just made me watch. Everybody was masked.… I just … Dad wanted me to be prepared, but it wasn’t my time yet. I’m okay.

  Poor kid was so far from okay. Made him watch? There was no fixing what had been done to him, to any of them.

  “Come on, Noah. Talk to me,” Jensen said, her voice just a little bit above a wheedling whine. “You know that all I want to do is make things right for those kids.”

  He shot her a look. “Make it right?” He bit back a laugh.

  He knew she wanted to help, knew she probably wanted, in the end, the same thing he did. To protect those kids, to see justice done. He’d known Jensen Bell most of her life. She had been a nosy, bratty tomboy up until her mother had disappeared, and then Jensen had turned into a quiet, pensive near-adult almost overnight. That she’d become a cop didn’t surprise him. That she was here didn’t surprise him. But he wasn’t telling her anything.

  He didn’t really have much to tell her. What little he did know had been told to him in confidence, and unless those boys gave him permission, he wasn’t saying anything. Those kids weren’t in danger—now—and they were his priority. If he had any names that hadn’t already been given to Jensen, he’d do what he could to make sure she had the information, but he couldn’t help and he wasn’t going to violate a confidence.

  “Come on, Noah. You have to help me out. I realize you have this confidentiality thing going on, but even taking that into consideration, when there’s a credible threat out there, aren’t you obligated to talk to me?” she asked. She also threw in a serious, woebegone look, just to top it off.

  Grimly he smiled as he slammed his fist into the bag again. Then he stopped and turned to face her. “Now see, here’s where the problem is. If I really felt there was a credible threat, yeah, I’d be obligated to talk.” He shrugged and started to strip off his gloves, moving over to the bench where he kept his towel and the water bottle. “The thing is, I don’t think I know jack shit that will help. I only know two victims … and you’re already aware of who they are.”

  “Neither Kevin or Caleb is talking.”

  “Well, I can’t help you there.” He’d speak with Caleb. He didn’t think Kevin knew much. They’d messed up when they tried to bring in a kid that young. That was what had set Caleb off. He’d tolerated it until they’d gone after somebody too young, somebody he’d known, cared for.

  But other than Kevin, Noah didn’t think Caleb knew any of the others.

  They’d used a cloak of secrecy to protect themselves, to isolate the boys, and it had worked, for a very long time.

  “You know I need more,” Jensen said, her voice going hard.

  “I know you want more.” Noah shrugged. “We don’t always get what we want, though, do we?”

  He wasn’t about to push them. It could help and he’d explain that, but if the kids weren’t ready, they weren’t ready. They’d been through enough. If one of them wanted to talk, fine. But if not? Jensen would just fumble through on her own.

  “What about your partner on the forum?”

  Partner—

  Adam’s face flashed through Noah’s mind and he slowly lifted his head, stared at Jensen. Frowning, he shook his head. “I don’t follow.”

  “Yeah. Is it possible that Adam knows more?”

  Noah leaned back against the table, arms crossed over his chest, as he studied Jensen.
Absently he reached up and dragged his nails down his face as he studied her. “Just what do you think Adam knows?”

  “Look, you know as well as I do that somebody is out there hunting men with a connection to the Cronus Club.” Something lit her eyes—there quickly, then gone. It looked like understanding. “Somebody who wants them dead. It would have to be somebody who knew about the men … somebody who had been told. Maybe the boys told Adam. Maybe he’s known for a while and he’s been biding his time.”

  It took a few seconds for her meaning to hit. When it did, Noah shoved off the table and crossed over to her. His heart was still thudding from the workout and sweat was drying to a cool, sticky film on his skin as he met her eyes. “You obviously know a different Adam Brascum than I do. That Adam? He gets pissed off and he’s ready to rip your throat out. He wouldn’t have information like this and then bide his time. Either he’d have been dragging their bodies to you the day he found out or he would have just killed them and left their bodies to rot.”

  Jensen blinked. “Ah.…”

  Even as he said it, Noah wished he could yank it back, but it was a little too late. Glaring at her, he shook his head. “Everything I know about cops I learned from watching Law and Order, but tell me this: The person who killed Troyer, was it a rushed thing or did they plan it? Because I can tell you this: Adam might be capable of making some very bad judgment calls, but he’s almost incapable of biding his time, like you suggested. If Adam was going to kill somebody because they were hurting one of the kids from the forum, he would have done it the very night he knew about it.”

  Her hazel eyes rested on his and Noah fought the urge to look away. Things were bad enough—he didn’t need to make it worse. Normally he could make things better. For others, at least. Yeah, not today.

  “Are you certain of that?” Jensen asked, her gaze pinning him into place and holding him there. “Absolutely certain?”

  Snagging a towel from the workbench, he mopped the sweat from his face and then grabbed his shirt. Once he’d done that, he pulled it on and delayed another minute by circling the workbench to grab another bottle of water. After he’d taken a drink, he leaned over it and met Jensen’s eyes. “Yeah, I’m certain. Now here’s a question for you: Why are you suddenly so focused on Adam? Why do you think my partner is out there playing caped crusader?”

  Adam had reluctantly revealed his connection to the forum to the police after the fire at Trinity’s place. Both Noah and Adam had been surprised when the cops had downplayed that connection. Jensen had rather bluntly explained, The forum does a lot of good.… We know that. People might get their panties in a twist if they connect Adam to it. I’d rather not deal with it.

  Noah thought back to that conversation now and realized things had changed. So much for them not giving a shit. Although he realized that wasn’t exactly fair. It wasn’t the forum that was the problem. It was the fact that people were getting killed.

  “I never said I thought he was,” Jensen pointed out. “But I have to check out those who have connections. He does.”

  “Adam isn’t doing this,” Noah said, shaking his head.

  “But we still need to talk to everybody involved. He is involved.”

  “Oh, horseshit,” Noah snapped, the curse slipping out of him before he could stop it. Mentally he apologized even as other, less polite things ran through his head. “He’s involved the same way I am. A couple of kids trusted us … actually they trusted him, because they didn’t know who he was. They don’t trust adults because they’ve never had a reason to do so.”

  “Caleb trusts you,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah, and I’m not going to give him a reason not to.” That trust was hard-won and it wouldn’t take anything to shatter it. The boy needed somebody he could count on. Noah wasn’t betraying Caleb. Adam needed somebody he could count on. Noah wasn’t going to betray Adam, either.

  “I’m not asking you to betray his trust.” Jensen sighed and turned away. Under the lightweight jacket she wore, her shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. “Noah, look … we have a mess going on here. We’re trying to get a handle on it, but we can’t even scrape the surface of it. The few men we’ve arrested won’t talk. The boys won’t talk. I get that they are scared, but we need to pull this thing apart and keep it from ever happening again. We can’t do that unless we can take it apart, from the bottom up.”

  “You don’t need Adam for that.”

  She looked back at him. “I think Adam is a big boy. He can protect himself, can’t he?”

  “Yeah, he’s a big boy.” But he was also one who was walking an edge lately. Having cops push at him would likely push him even closer to falling over. “You really need to go pushing at an innocent man, one who hasn’t done shit wrong, one who just lost a friend, saved my life, because you all are coming up empty-handed?”

  “I—”

  He cut her off, shaking his head as he took a step forward. “I don’t want to hear it, Jensen. You know why the two of us started that forum. You may not remember how Adam was fifteen years ago, but how about me? He’s the one who helped me pull through. We started that forum to give those kids a safe place, so maybe they wouldn’t end up the way we did. I don’t want you pushing Adam back there.”

  “Noah…” She sighed and passed a hand back over her hair, staring off past him outside. “You see, it’s not really my fault the man has a drinking problem.”

  “No.” Noah shook his head. “It’s not. But he’s my friend and I might not have gotten a handle on my problem without his help. I don’t want to see you all pushing him back over a line just because you have nobody else left to push.”

  Then he turned around and walked away. Just before he locked himself in his office, he said, “Get out of my place of business, Detective. Don’t come back about this unless you have a warrant.”

  * * *

  Yeah, Adam was a big boy, but Adam had never really made it all that far from the pit he’d climbed out of and his balance had never really returned.

  It made it that much easier to fall back in.

  Noah wasn’t going to stand by and see a bunch of cops push Adam back over because they just didn’t have anybody else to push. They could look elsewhere as far as Noah was concerned.

  And maybe he’d give Adam a heads-up. That was what friends did. They looked out for each other.

  Or if you saw a friend teetering on the edge of that pit, you gave a friend a steadying hand. Adam had given Noah that steadying hand more than once.

  Noah had his own pit, one he’d sidestepped for ages, but over the past couple of years it had gotten smaller and smaller. Over the past few months it had shrunken down to the point that he couldn’t see it at all.

  Now?

  It was practically nonexistent, and even though he could almost catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, he no longer worried he’d fall into it if he had one off-day.

  He had Trinity to thank for that.

  Adam, though … well. If Noah’s pit was getting easier to avoid, then Adam’s was just getting bigger. The man acted like he was fine, carried on like nothing had changed, but Noah could see it. They’d been friends too long and he knew the signs, knew what he was looking at.

  Lately Adam had been edging closer and closer to whatever self-imposed limits he had. Adam’s demons kept just getting closer and closer all the time. Rita’s death the other day hadn’t helped things at all.

  Discovering the body in Trinity’s basement seemed to set it all off. They had been close, Noah knew, Adam and Lana.

  Lana …

  Noah sighed, that familiar little ache tugging at his heart. None of them had heard anything about the body that had been found. A few rumors were drifting around—mostly that the body was female, but that was it. He knew enough cops to know that since the body was so old, the state crime lab wasn’t exactly going to rush things through, so it could be months before they heard any sort of concrete news.

  But that
was when Adam had seemed to … change. He’d always been a moody bastard, yeah, but it had gotten worse and that day seemed to be the tipping point.

  It was like Adam really didn’t care anymore if he managed to outrun the demons or not. He just didn’t care.

  Climbing out of the cab of his truck, Noah stared up at Adam’s house and skimmed a hand back over his hair. Adam’s car was there, a sleek black Corvette that his dad had been rebuilding. Adam had taken the job over after his parents had been killed in an accident, and although it had taken him years, the car was finished. It gleamed, beautiful and black, in the driveway. That car was no guarantee that Adam was home, but it was Wednesday and that was typically the day Adam took off from work.

  Noah heaved out a breath and tried to figure out the right way to approach this. He’d put his foot in his mouth with Jensen. He’d been trying to get her to back off, although he knew he hadn’t succeeded.

  She’d come and pester Adam anyway and there was nothing to be done for it.

  So the right thing to do was warn Adam.

  And … Noah admitted to himself, he was worried.

  Adam was probably going to be pissed off at him. Noah knew this. Just then, he didn’t care. He just wanted to warn the guy, maybe try to talk him into at least getting a lawyer. If Noah had wedged his foot in his mouth earlier, Adam was likely to shove both feet in clear up to his knees. A lawyer would be wise.

  Only idiots believed that if you were innocent you didn’t need a lawyer. Adam wasn’t an idiot and he’d done dances with the cops before, so Noah hoped he’d see the sense in this.

  Hoped.

  If Adam wasn’t feeling stubborn.

  * * *

  In a cemetery up on the hill, they were laying Rita to rest.

  Down on the river, Adam ran eight miles. As his feet pounded the pavement, he thought about the woman he’d known for most of his life, and although he didn’t cry, he finally let himself ask all those questions.