Page 38 of Condemned By Secrets

“Not here.” The sarge growled as he steered Luther toward the empty Lieutenant’s office. The sound of whistles and jeers echoed from the bullpen.

What is going on?Luther’s sleep-deprived brain wasn’t sure why he appeared to be in trouble, but he didn’t protest when the sarge shoved him into a chair and took the seat across the desk from him.

“What the fuck, Monroe?” Sergeant Jameson’s face was bright red as he glared at Luther.

“Sarge, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong’?” Sergeant Jameson’s eyes narrowed to slits, and if it was possible to see steam come out of the man’s ears, Luther would’ve done so. “You want to tell me why the fuck the mayor’s nephew spent the night in jail?”

What the hell?Luther swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “Do you mean Cartwright?”

“No shit!” Sarge yelled. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Luther winced as the sarge’s voice boomed at him. “Damn. I didn’t know.”

The sarge scrubbed a hand over his face. “The captain was ready to suspend you—”

Luther blanched, and his heart dropped to his stomach.

“—but I talked him out of it.”

Blowing out a breath in relief, Luther spoke. “Thanks, Sarge.”

Sergeant Jameson frowned at him. “It wasn’t a favor. I need you to keep investigating,” he paused and glanced at the door. Even though it was closed, the sarge shook his head before continuing, “the other case I’ve tasked you with. Got it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Maybe get out of here for a while. I don’t want you to cross paths with the captain right now.”

“Is he out? Cartwright?”

Sarge sighed. “Yeah. He posted bail first thing this morning.”

Luther scowled. “The bastard deserved a night in a cell.”

“For slashing a tire?”

Luther shrugged, and the sarge eyed him closely before asking, “This is about the woman, isn’t it? You’re gonna let a piece of ass screw up your career?”

Luther shot to his feet and got in the sarge’s face. “Don’t call her that!”

Sergeant Jameson didn’t back down from Luther; in fact, he started laughing. “Fuck, Monroe. Are you in love with her?”

Luther blinked and his anger evaporated.Love?He lowered to his chair as his thoughts spun.

The sarge rose to leave, but he clapped Luther on the shoulder on his way out the door. “Welcome to the club. Now get the hell out of here.”

Luther nodded and stood. He left the Lieutenant’s office to more calls and whistles thrown in his direction as he waded through the bullpen, but they washed over him in a daze. He was still processing what the sarge had said.

Am I in love with Anna?

???

Luther was parked at the far end of the lot in front of the Shoppes at Rolling Brook. He’d headed there after the sarge had kicked him out of the station. As it had been a couple weeks before when he’d first come to investigate the report of suspicious activity, the parking lot was nearly empty. He counted seven other cars—not enough to keep this place afloat . . .ifthe business conducted here was legitimate. Luther was close to finding the truth.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared at the buildings’ faux facades. Several remained empty despite the records Luther had found claiming they were rented out. The whole thing was a house of cards, and he was worried about the fallout when it came crashing down. Not that he was ready to demolish it . . . but hewasgetting closer.

It was clear to him the Shoppes was a front organization for money laundering. The pizzeria had to be a shell company, and it was likely the other businesses here were too. But what Luther was still working on was whose money they were laundering. He ran a hand down his face in frustration. And he didn’t know who all was involved from town.

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