by A. J. Norris
“I talked to Flynn.”
He listed to the side and before I could catch him, he fell on the floor. Unbelievably, he managed to get his hands out in front of him, breaking some of the impact. “Good for you,” he said with a cheek resting on the hardwood. Closing his eyes, he slurred, “What’d he want?”
“I guess he knows about the little plan you obviously weren’t joking about after all?” Which meant I should get the hell out of here.
“We had plans.”
I knew it. My heart sank. “I’ll bet. Wait until Flynn hears about this.”
Lincoln muttered something incomprehensible. I pushed on his shoulder and he grumbled.
“What was that? Oh, let myself out. Don’t worry I will. The last thing I want to do is be here when you wake up.” Stomping to the door, I grabbed my purse off the kitchen table along the way. I undid the bottom lock, no problem. The top deadbolt, however, posed a challenge. A big challenge. The lock required that brass key I saw him slide into his pocket. Why did this place have that kind of security?
Oh, what was I saying? The protection made sense when you were a criminal like him. Like you’re any better, I told myself. No matter how I justified my actions, I still masqueraded like one. I wasn’t exactly pretending at this point, either. I had taken pictures at those mansion parties in Hollywood Hills. I had stolen. Lied.
Back over to Lincoln, I crouched low and shook his shoulder. When he didn’t rouse, I rocked his shoulder up and down. My heart fluttered with fear. Oh, god, was he breathing? As much as I no longer trusted him, I did not want him to die. I put a hand under his nose and his humid breaths warmed my fingers. “Lincoln! Wake up. I need the key to the door.”
All I got back from him was a change in his breathing.
“Gimme the key,” I demanded loudly.
Nothing.
I sighed heavily. “What do I have to do? Flip you over?” Oh, boy, this was going to be fun. The left side of Lincoln’s body was flush against the base of the platform bed. “Shit.” Naturally, the key was in that pocket. I pulled on his arm except he had fallen partially on the rug underneath the bed, so he didn’t budge. I cursed my poor upper body strength and promised to start going to the gym.
“Liiiincoln, wake up,” I begged.
Zero movement. Not even an eye flutter.
Leaning over him, I wedged my hands between him and the platform and heaved backward. My hands slipped and I fell backward onto my ass. “Really?” Had he suddenly gained five hundred pounds?
Next, I tried tunneling my hand under his left side. My fingers touched what I thought was the edge of the pocket, but I couldn’t get past his hip bone. Retracting my hand, I squeezed his side, hoping a tickling would wake him.
Nope, nada. Not even a flinch. How much alcohol had he consumed, for fuck’s sake?
Irritated and worn out, I sat back against the wall. Eventually, I picked myself off the floor and settled in front of the TV, waiting for him to wake up.
CHAPTER 24
Lincoln
I awoke disoriented, blinking away the sleepiness and failing miserably. Where the hell was I? It took me a full minute before recognizing I was lying on the floor next to the bed. Drool pooled beneath my cheek. Lifting my head, I wiped the corner of my mouth. I pushed up off the floor. “Oh, god,” I groaned. My entire body was stiff. I rolled my shoulders and tilted my head side to side. My parched mouth tasted awful and a spike had been drilled into my skull.
Oh, man, I needed to take a leak so badly my back teeth were floating. I ran for the bathroom, but the door was shut. I tried the knob and got nowhere. The toilet flushed then the faucet came on. I had a dim recollection that Melanie had stopped by last night. While tap dancing I knocked on the door. “Mel—Nora?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to be long? I gotta take a piss.”
“No,” she said, opening the door.
Brushing past her, I undid my fly. I barely made it to the toilet. A thousand years later, I left the bathroom a pound lighter.
I found Melanie sitting at the kitchen table, glaring up at me.
What time is it?” I asked.
“Six-o-four.”
Was this AM or PM? Judging from the lack of light outside, it was morning. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and the Aspirin on the counter. Shoving three pills into my mouth, I washed them down with two thirds of the Aquafina. Pulling out a chair, I sat at the table with her. I sensed her looking at me as I drank.
When I first learned she had been the driver who killed Jennifer, I wanted to scream at her. Make her cry. I wanted her to hurt as badly as I was hurting. But as we sat there, staring at each other, I realized she did hurt. And she would continue hurting worse than I ever could. She’d never escape the guilt of taking another life, even though it was an accident.
So, I couldn’t shout at her. It wouldn’t be fair, and I doubted traumatizing her all over again would make me feel better. In fact, I knew it wouldn’t.
“I passed the fuck out last night, didn’t I.”
“You freaked me out when I couldn’t wake you.”
“Sorry.” I rubbed my jaw. “Is that why you stayed?”
“I checked on you a few times to make sure you were still breathing.”
“Thank you for checking on—”
She glared at me. “That’s not why I stayed.”
“Then why did you stay?”
“I couldn’t get the door unlocked.”
I glanced at the deadbolt. “Why didn’t you just use the key?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair. “What a wonderful idea. Except you put it in your pocket.”
I sat back in my seat and patted the front of my jeans. “Shit. I’m sorry. Is that why you’re staring me down? How can I make it up—?”
“I came over here last night because I hadn’t heard from you and was worried. Then I find out you lied to me.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What do you think I lied to you about?”
She slapped her hands on the table. “Your plans to steal the money with Bandit.”
“Oh, that.” I chuckled. “I told you it was a joke. It’s what he and I do.”
“I don’t believe you. I mean, Somoa? Like you just picked that out of thin air as a joke.”
“Call and ask him, then.”
“Oh, I will,” she said indignantly.
“Do it.”
“How about I tell Flynn instead? I talked to him yesterday and I think he’s onto your little scheme.”
“What did he say?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“What did he say, Nora?”
“He asked if I had got any vibes from any of the crew. Then he told me to watch my back. And now I know for sure who he was talking about.”
“Oh, do you.” I laughed without humor. “You know, I’d be insulted if you weren’t so off-base about me. And I don’t even know what the fuck kind of game you’re playing. I have a pretty good guess, though, and it’s fucking idiotic.”
“I’m not playing a game!”
“Then you have a death wish.”
“So do you, if you think Flynn won’t hunt you and Bandit down for stealing his money.”
I laughed in a short burst. “First of all, it’s not his money, and second, it was an inside joke.”
“I’m calling Bandit.”
“Good, I’ll give you his number.” I rattled off his digits.
She dialed and put the phone to her ear. “Hey, it’s Nora...yeah, fine... I need to ask you about something... No, I’m fine... Listen, are you and Lincoln planning to steal all the money? ...Yeah, I heard that...so? ...Uh-huh. I see. Thank you.” Ending the call, she grabbed her purse and stood. “Please, let me out.”
I smiled. That asshole. No doubt he wouldn’t confirm or deny it was a joke. Sometimes, undercover work sucked. “He was lying, you know.”
“Of course you
’d say that. Please, let me go.”
“Sit down.”
She clutched her purse to her chest. “I have a gun in my purse. I want to leave.”
“And I have a gun taped under this table. Nora, sit down.”
Melanie backed toward the door, her eyes wild. “P-Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.” I raised my palms, showing her that I wasn’t going for my gun. “You have to let me explain.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” Her purse fell to the floor as she raised a Sig Sauer from out of her bag, holding the hilt with two shaky hands. “Let me out!” Her voice wavered. Tears flooded her eyes. “Now-before-I-shoot-you!”
“I’m a cop.”
CHAPTER 25
Lincoln
Confusion marred her features. “What?”
“I’m a cop, Melanie.”
“That’s...not my name.”
“Yes, it is. You’re Melanie Hughes. You have a brother named Joshua Hughes, who also worked for the Syndicate.” And you accidentally killed my fiancée. A fact I was trying hard to keep to myself at this point.
Her eyes went wide. “I don’t understand how you know that.”
“I’m a cop. Did you think I wouldn’t have investigated you? You’re a suspect. Please, put the gun down and let’s talk.” Oh, now I decide to start acting like a cop.
Sobbing, she set the gun on the floor, came over to the table, and lowered herself onto the chair across from me. She rested her hands on the table. With downcast eyes, she asked, “Am I a suspect?”
Man, I was way too hungover for this conversation. “At the moment.”
“Are you going to arrest me for pulling a gun on you?”
“No.” I reached for her hands and she jerked away. The rejection stung.
“Did you know, the whole time?”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Who I am. What happened in my past. All of it.”
“No. I learned about your past after you left the other day. Look, I’m sorry that happened to you. It...” My chest tightened. “It was an accident.”
She nodded. “That’s what people tell me, but my brain hasn’t told my heart the news.”
“The heart is always the last one to know.”
“Did you have sex with me to gain my trust?”
“I didn’t lie when I told you I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s not because you’re a suspect. It wasn’t to gain your trust. And I didn’t know your real name until recently.”
“I want to believe that, but you’ve lied about so much.”
“The only thing I ever lied to you about was being a cop. You lied too, you know.”
“Only about my name.”
“That’s not the only thing.”
She recoiled. “How do you figure?”
“What are you doing with the Syndicate?”
Melanie rose from the table, putting her back to me. She wandered over to the kitchen counter and gripped the edge.
“You won’t find your brother’s killer,” I told her.
“I’m not trying to. I know that no one’s going to confess to me.”
I massaged my temples in circles with my fingertips. “Then explain to me what you’re hoping to accomplish here. I sincerely don’t get it.”
“He deserves justice.”
“So do a lot of people. But their families don’t go around infiltrating crime organizations. It’s foolish and, not to mention, dangerous.”
She spun around and snapped, “I’m not a fool. I have a plan!”
“I didn’t say you were.” The word naïve came to mind, though. “What’s your plan?” I had a feeling it might be similar to the FBI’s. However, I’d already compromised this case enough. I wouldn’t be giving her details.
“Do you have a plan to bring the Syndicate down? Or does undercover work not include sending guilty people to prison?”
“How do you know that any of the current crew murdered Josh?”
“I just do. Okay?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “How were you expecting to accomplish this? You hadn’t even figured out that there was an undercover cop in the Syndicate.”
“I know people.”
“That might be true. But the Syndicate aren’t known for killing their members and I haven’t found any evidence that supports your claim, either.” Although, they might start when this all blew up in her face.
“Then how come you didn’t know about me?”
“Probably because the FBI didn’t know you were gonna go full Peppermint.”
She cocked her head as if to say, really? “I wasn’t going to kill anyone.”
“You bought a gun.” I nodded to the gun on the floor.
“My father gave it to me.”
“Melanie, you have to walk away from this now, before—”
“Then what? Wait for the police and the FBI to tell me they don’t have enough evidence to arrest criminals? Been there. Done that.”
“FYI: You’re a criminal. And the police aren’t going to treat you like you’re innocent just because you’re convinced the Syndicate murdered your brother.”
“I have a plan.”
“What’s your plan? A fantasy about testifying against the crew for immunity? Get real. You’re going to get yourself killed instead.”
“If that’s what it takes.” She shrugged.
“I’m not hearing that. There’s no reason for you to die.” And man, I couldn’t take another person I cared about dying tragically. I was already half ruined as it was.
Leaning against the counter, she wrapped her arms around herself. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I wasn’t going to testify. I’m going to tip off the FBI. Then slip away and disappear forever.”
“Just like that, huh. And go where?”
“Anywhere I want.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I stood, pushing in the chair. Placing my palms on the table, I hung my head and sighed. “How do I convince you to walk away and let us do our jobs?”
* * *
Melanie
You can’t.
Lincoln was an undercover cop? Now Bandit’s response made sense. Wait, did it? “Is Bandit a cop, too?”
“He’s my partner.”
I nodded. “Does he know about us?”
“He figured out we have a relationship.”
Relationship. Lincoln thought we were in a relationship? My heart warmed despite how messed up our ‘relationship’ was, or how doomed from the start. I wished I’d met him a year ago. I wished I’d gone to the Hermosa Police instead, so I could’ve made my statement to Lincoln. Was that even his real name? Mostly, I wished Josh hadn’t died. The past couldn’t be changed, though.
“I can’t stress enough how much going through with your plan isn’t necessary anymore. I swear to you, I’ll do my best to bring down the Syndicate,” he said.
But I was in it now, wasn’t I? As if Flynn wouldn’t come after me once he knew who I was and why I’d joined the Syndicate if I bailed now. I knew too much about their operations to be able to walk away. I had to do this job. Flynn promised to cut me loose once the heist was done. And provided we weren’t all in jail, I’d be free and clear to leave the state or the country if I chose, forever.
Except, forever was a long time, and the thought of losing Lincoln nauseated me and left me breathless in a bad way. Which was insane. Had I fallen for him? How the hell had that happened? Damn him. And I hated that he was right. About everything. I hated how I still wanted him and how he gave me hope that I deserved love.
He whistled to get my attention. “Melanie.”
I brought my head up.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. You’ll do your best.” I searched his face. I wanted to believe in him, but I had been let down too many times. And I’d also taken a woman’s life who didn’t deserve to die. My brother also hadn’t earned his fate, either. I couldn’t do anything
about her passing. Her family at least knew the specifics of their loved one’s death. It was more than I knew about Josh’s. However, I could give justice to Josh. The Syndicate was responsible for his murder. Period. To me, it didn’t matter who’d pulled the trigger.
I needed to fill the holes in my boat so that I wouldn’t keep sinking. I was sick of continuously bailing water just to stay afloat.
“What are you thinking about? I can see you’re deep in thought.”
“Justice.”
“I can tell this is important to you. And believe me, I wish I knew who killed your brother. Bandit and I didn’t uncover any evidence linking the Syndicate to any murders.”
“They are responsible.”
“How are you so sure about this?”
“Because he came to see me right before he died. He was scared of the Syndicate and what they might do to him. He wanted out.”
Lincoln rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t get pissed, but could your brother have been lying?”
“No. He was always honest with me.”
“And you’re positive he wasn’t hiding something from you? You get what this life is all about now. Criminals lie, cheat, and steal.”
And murder. “Josh wasn’t a criminal.” Did I really just say that? Apparently, I excelled at lying about my brother. Covering for him because I was ashamed. But then, someone killed him. All the wrongs he ever committed were erased in an instant for me.
His eyebrows hit the ceiling.
Yeah, I didn’t buy it either. “Okay, fine,” I sighed in defeat. “I’m full of shit.”
“Would your brother want this for you? Would he want you to risk your life—put your life on hold—chasing ghosts?”
“He would do the same for me.”
A corner of his mouth lifted like he didn’t believe one word I’d said. “Everyone should have a sister like you,” he muttered.
“And everyone should have a brother like Josh.”
“I have to disagree. When was the last time he was there for you, and when was the last time he let you down?”
We stared at each other for a long time, neither of us budging on our positions. My jaw started aching. My molars gritted and I realized I’d been clenching my teeth. “I want him back,” I cried. I turned away from Lincoln. Sobbing. He was right. I was chasing a ghost. It didn’t seem fair that he died while I lived. I was the one who’d killed someone.