Page 33 of Sinner's Secret

If only she knew. Sometimes it feels like I was born a long time ago. Address?

No.

Trust was a funny thing. Once it had been broken, it was ten times as hard to get it back. Or earn it in the first place. Someone at the NYPD station where she worked had betrayed her. Nika was going to be extremely cautious. He was going to have to prove he was trustworthy more than once or twice. He’d need to be more forthcoming with information.

I talked to my cousin. He didn’t send the lawyer.

There was a long pause before the next text came through.

Pick me up at the station.

Yes, ma’am.

Baz drove toward the main entrance, but it was still blocked off by barricades and uniformed officers redirecting traffic away from the area.

Baz slowed down, irritating the officer gesturing at him to keep moving and turn right. Nika wasn’t in sight, so he stopped and waited.

The uniform came up and knocked on his window. Hard.

He rolled it down.

“Move along,” the officer ordered.

“I’m supposed to pick someone up.”

“Turn right and wait for them there.”

Baz opened his mouth to argue, but his passenger door opened, and Nika jumped in.

“Thanks for holding my cab, Mooney,” she said to the uniform.

The officer stepped back without saying anything, his gaze already on the next car trying to drive through.

Baz stepped on the accelerator, and they moved past the barricades.

“Where are we going?” Baz asked, checking her over quickly. She looked fine, her hair still up in its tight braid, her suit crisp.

She gave him an address and he headed toward it.

“Tell me about your chat with your cousin,” she ordered.

“Whatever is going on, it’s got nothing to do with my family or their business. He didn’t know about the human trafficking ring, and he didn’t send that lawyer.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He was pissed about the lawyer and disgusted by the crime.”

“Why?”

“Because it means that not only does your station have someone with loose lips, so does he.”

She watched him silently for a moment. “What’s he going to do about that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit,” she said. “You know what he’s going to do.”

“We’re not linked mentally, and he may have changed how he deals with betrayal over the years.”

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