Foley pushed himself off Rhaena’s desk and stood. “You’ve got one more chance. Don’t screw this up.” He pointed his long finger at Athan. “In the future, if you’re on the job … drive a damn car. Now you understand how easy it is for things to get out of hand.” Athan nodded and hung his head. Foley turned toward Rhaena. “Northwood … get the press on the phone that ran this issue and tell them to fix it. If they need to talk to me then put them through. I’m sure I can count on you to get their knees wobbling if they want to try to leave Boston with a bad taste in their mouth about their police department.”
“Yes, sir.” Rhaena blinked, looking back down at the newspaper.
Foley looked back up at Athan and smirked while he slowly shook his head. “Good luck, detective.” Athan knew he didn’t just mean with the case as the captain headed back toward his office and patted Rhaena’s shoulder on his way past. She looked at him like she could peel the skin from his bones.
“Rhaena … it’s—” She threw her palm up and shook her head.
“I’m trying to umm …” She clicked her nails frantically on her desk and bit her lip. “I’m trying to turn over this new leaf. You know … where I don’t take this keyboard and bash your face in when you make stupid decisions that really don’t concern me. So …” She rose from her chair and grabbed the drawstring bag under her desk with her athletic clothes. “I’m gonna go to lunch. I’ll deal with the press when I get back.” She didn’t look him in the eyes at any point during that conversation and he watched her head toward the training center.
Athan sat back down in his chair, leaning over his desk and thumbing over the scruff of his chin as he sighed and closed his eyes. His phone dinged on the desk beside him, and he looked down at it, drawing his brows and swiping it open.
UNKNOWN: … she looks mad.
Athan looked around and caught sight of someone smiling at him from across the precinct at the elevator. “Shit …” he mumbled, standing as Sarah started walking toward him. Foley watched from his office, his eyes darting toward Athan as she passed by. He was on his desk phone and unable to immediately jump up to pound his hide.Thank God.Damn, she was gorgeous … black hair shining and bouncing over the shoulders of her ribbed black and white striped, long-sleeved top. Her chest tattoos peeked out of the deep vee of the front, interrupted by the bib of her black overall shorts that she wore over sheer black pantyhose that showed all of her thigh and leg tattoos. The heels of her ankle-high black boots clacked across the floor and every head turned to look at her as she approached the back of Rhaena’s desk. Her eyes dropped to the newspaper still sitting on it and she traced a finger across the page.
“Fuck …” she whispered, looking up at him. “I’m sorry, it’s why I came. I wanted to apologize for this. It only just came to my attention last night. Looks like I was too late to warn you about it.” Athan couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.
“How did you get my number?” he asked. Sarah smirked.
“Maybe I’m stalking you, detective.” She raised a brow. He tried not to smile. Sarah turned her head to the whiteboard and stepped up to it. He supposed it was a little late to flip it over now. “So … you’re not the only one who thinks Brent and the good senator are part of this whole shit show, huh?”
“Just because they’re on the board doesn’t mean that they’re guilty of anything. We call it the web. It’s anything related to you that we can connect the dots with to figure out the bigger picture.” She didn’t turn around. “Why? You find something else?” He glanced over to the captain who was closely watching and still on the phone. Sarah clutched her black jacket in front of her and slowly turned as she answered.
“Well … there have been some … developments.” She raised her left hand, revealing her missing engagement ring. Athan’s mouth parted.
“Shit … I’m—I hope it wasn’t—”
“No, no …” She fluttered her hand and lowered a thigh to the edge of his desk. “I think that’s been coming since before all this. It’s just too much, and … we don’t work.” Her eyes lowered to her lap. “Nothing works right now, really.”
“Sounds like there was something else.” He pushed, trying to fight off the urge to move closer. She pulled out her phone and turned it toward him. It was a photo of the crime scene where she’d been found, and Conrad Stratford standing behind the yellow tape looking very much like he didn’t want to be recognized. “Where’d you find this?” Athan asked, looking back up at her.
“All over the articles online from the day or two following when they found me out there. I showed it to Brent last night, too. Although … he seemed pretty genuine that he didn’t know anything about it. I told Wren first, and that’s actually what we were discussing when you came to the hospital. She agrees with me that if he’d been looking for sympathy, he would have been a little less discreet about his visit to the crime scene. And if you’re askingme… if it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck …” She shrugged her slender shoulders and tightened her mouth. That mouth … he couldn’t stop himself from wondering how it tasted. If it was anywhere near how her blood had tasted when he’d put her in this position, he didn’t deserve to know that answer. He handed her phone back to her and his eyes drifted toward her neck.
“Agree.” They met each other’s stare. “How are you feeling?”
Sarah pulled her hair back and exposed the wound. He tried not to react. There was no damn way it had healed that much from a little dab of rubbing alcohol. It was closed up and healing nicely, still pretty angry-looking, and colored with deep bruising, but not at all the way it should have looked after this small amount of time. “Much better. When it’s healed enough, I think I’ll probably cover it. I haven’t decided what I’ll put there yet.”
“Any more dizzy spells? Weird reactions?”
“Nothing worth writing home about. Speaking of home …” She glanced down at the papers on his desk. Her papers. “Were you able to get anything out of those?”
“Actually, yes. And I think they saved my ass this morning with the Cap. Thank you.” He handed them over to her. “I made some copies. You can have those back.”
“How much trouble are you in?” Sarah made a wincing face and squinted an eye. He didn’t want to admit that he found it adorable.
“I guess that depends on who you ask.” He chuckled. She looked at Rhaena’s empty chair.
“Ah … damn. I’m sorry. I really am. Maybe I can talk to them? Ease them off a bit? Who can I talk to?”
“That’d be me, ma’am,” Foley said from the far side of Rhaena’s desk. He reached his large hand out as Sarah stood and faced him. “I’m Malcolm Foley, Captain of the 12th. You must be Sarah.” She took his hand and shook it.
“Yes, sir. Pleased to meet you. Thank you for all you’re doing, I can’t stress that enough.”
Foley smiled at her. “Likewise. I hope all is going well with recovery. What can we do for you?” Sarah reached down and picked up the newspaper.
“Well, I came down here to try to explain this. It’s really not what it appears to be, sir. I didn’t want anyone getting in some kind of trouble. Excuse my language, but … these assholes follow me everywhere I go. They’re relentless. It really wasn’t his fault. Your detectives have been on top of everything. I want to take full responsibility for this.”
“That’s not necessary, Miss St. James. It’s being handled. Detective Kane explained himself and isn’t receiving anything other than a reprimand. I did stress to him, and I’ll extend this to you as well … should either of my officers be required to transport you anywhere, they’ve been advised to use the appropriate vehicles.”