Page 30 of Devoted

"To say the least. We have a good idea of what went on in Lace Underground. There is Detective Maddox's report. He left big gaps in details surrounding your captivity in the underground. Intentionally, I assume. An instinctual need to protect you, it seems. But we have information from anothersource."

"Anothersource?"

"One of the club members was recently arrested for tax evasion along with a few other 'rich man' crimes. He faces some significant time inprison."

"Rich man's prison," Iinterject.

"Yes but he's agreed to cooperate in the case against Freestone for a reduced sentence. He's given investigators copious details about the secret club, the women, the drugs. Enough salacious stuff to put Freestone away for a longtime."

"But you don't have Freestone." I can hear the tease in my voice but I can't stop it. I don't think they'll ever catch him. Kane is always one step ahead of everyone else. It shouldn't make me secretly happy but it does. I just need to make sure I don't show it to sweaty Mr.Winter.

"Not yet. Anyhow, that is not my department. I'm here to find out everything that happened to you and all the information you uncovered during your assignment. And Dr. Renfrew agrees with me that telling the story will also helpyou."

"Not sure how much help it'll be for me. Seems you know the answers to everythingalready."

"But we need to hear it fromyou."

"Yeah, I got that. Askaway."

He finishes the last sips of water in his bottle and sets it on the faded carpet beneath his chair. Winter looks straight at me. "Our cooperating witness mentioned that in the last few months Freestone was keeping one of the new women for his own pleasure. A woman with redhair."

My body stiffens. I'm silent as I wait for him tocontinue.

"Was that you, Angie? Did Mr. Freestone keep you prisoner for his ownpleasure."

"No," I say at first but then explain. "I mean, yes, I was the woman with red hair. But I wasn't his prisoner. Willing captive. I was his willingcaptive."

17

Maddox

The drumbeatof the song matches the pounding on the wall. It takes me a second to realize it's my grumpy ass neighbor complaining about the music. I turn it down and walk over to the wall to give it one good thump. My way of telling him to fuck off. With the mood I'm in, I'm ready to tell the whole world to fuckoff.

Clark has frozen me out of everything that has to do with Freestone and, most importantly, with Ten. Silvana, who just weeks before I went undercover was clinging to me like moss on a tree, suddenly finds every excuse to not have time to talk to me. More than once I caught him abruptly turning a different direction in the precinct just to avoid me. Clark had him sign some sort of cyber security thing. Silvana knows I can be just a little too convincing when I'm coaxing information out of him. I've decided to lay off the guy. He's been cool about everything. I don't want to get him introuble.

It's actually been nice just being on my own at work. And home, considering my social life is now a vortex of nothingness. A few friends texted to meet for beers but I prefer to sit home alone with my six pack andsulk.

The fifth beer is finally giving me just enough buzz that I don't want to throw my fist at something. I grab the last slice of cold pizza from my fridge and plop down on the couch with the remote. The apartment is a pigsty since Tiffany moved out. I wonder if she's moved on, found someone new? It would be easy for someone like Tiffany to find a new guy. She had everything to offer. She was smart, pretty, in her own way, humorous and driven. She knew exactly what she wanted. She was one of those women who had her future and life planned right down to the number of kids and block to live on. She was the perfect catch. Just not for me. Tiffany had one major, unfixable flaw. She wasn'tTen.

I drop back the rest of the fifth beer and toss the empty can on the coffee table. It rolls into the other four and knocks them over. "Strike." I pick up the remote and turn on the television. My phone rings. I push mute on the TV and grab the phone off the coffee table. It'sTen.

"Hey person I'm not supposed to talk to, what's up?" I toss the remote aside and prop my feet on the coffee table. A sniffle on the other end makes me sit up and drop my feet to the ground. She hasn't done more than sniffle and I'm ready to grab my keys and drive out to the beach. "Ten, what'swrong?"

"Nothing." She sniffles again. "I just needed to hear yourvoice."

My heart slows but my throat tightens. "I still haven't gotten used to the sound of youcrying."

"I know." There's a laugh with a sob. "Apparently I'mthatkid now. The one on the playground who cries every time someone cuts in front of them on the slide. All of a sudden, I'm a damn crybaby. I guess years of holding my tears in gave me a twenty-five year supply to use atwill."

"You don't need to apologize for tears, Ten. How did the debriefing go? Or should Iask?"

"You shouldn't. Mr. Winter is not any drug cult expert. I think he's fromIA."

I sit forward. "No fucking way. Why do you thinkthat?"

"He's just there to find out what the hell I was doing so long in Lace Underground and why I came out an addict. It's all very lovely and uplifting. My self-esteem is now at rock bottom. It's like spending a day with my dad right after one of my brother's won some big MVPtrophy."

"Shit, Ten. What are you going todo?"

---