Page 75 of Tortured Eyes
Guilt piles onto my already sick stomach as I stare over all of the deaths in front of me. Confessing my involvement, albeit in a secondary nature, wouldn’t change what’s happening, but everything I’ve done since meeting Logan Cane is not just a personal scar, it's a professional one.
* * *
As first shifts back go, this has been fucking terrible. All the crimes, all the sick cases of fucked-up violence and death I’ve had to investigate, and it’s my own crime that breaks me.
I’m about ready to flee from the office when Benson turns up at my door.
“There’s been a spree of murders just called in. All drug-related, but Mason’s reported that these have a different MO. I want you on this one.”
“Happy to. Thank you, lieutenant.”
“McCarthy?” He stops me as I look to walk past him. “Be careful. I’ll send you the details.”
The urge to confess nearly eats me alive. I owe it to Benson, but there are two sides to my story, and I can’t tell one without the other.
I leave the station, grab my helmet from my bike and check my phone for the address. It's too close to the centre for my liking. Shit happens out on the edges all the time, especially in the areas I've been sifting through the last few hours, but this address encroaches into territories that have been crime-free for years.
By the time I arrive, there are a couple of ambulances together with the strobe lights of squad cars. I leave the bike a hundred yards away and survey the area for a moment before heading over to see who the officer on the scene is. As I dip under the tape, I’m met with the last person I want to see.
“Evening, Mason. Didn’t realise you were working this case?” My hands make their way to my hips, and I plant my feet as if anticipating Mason’s attempt to remove me.
“It’s a drugs case, McCarthy. That makes it mine.”
“I’m sorry, but really? Since when did narcotics investigate murders? Benson asked for me on this one. I’m following orders, so I suggest you step out of my way and let me do my job.”
“Like you did running off with Logan Cane? Forget it. You’re not coming near this case.”
“And why not? Worried I’ll find out how you’re connected? Funny, see, I thought you were going to keep me in the loop about any changes or movements in the local cartels. It looks like there’s been a pretty fucking big shakeup.”
“You don’t suit threats, you righteous bitch. You don’t have a clue what you're talking about, but here’s a piece of advice. Stay out of this.” His finger jabs an inch from my face.
“Why should I? I have nothing to hide, and you’ve already run along to Benson with the only thing you have on me. Which, by the way, is jack shit.”
He chuckles like the cocky bastard he is. “Oh, but it’s got the brass thinking now, hasn’t it?”
“Benson knows me and that there’s nothing more to my connection to Logan Cane.” I cross my arms, protecting myself from my own lie.
“Really? Because word on the street is that Logan Cane is cleaning house. Mortoni is dead, and it’s sent everything into chaos. And you know what? You’ve been looking into Logan for a few weeks now. Just as all this hits the streets, all I need is the proof—one of my men to talk—and you’re through, McCarthy.”
The urge to wipe his grin from his face with my gun is so vivid that my hands tremble, holding back from reaching for the damn thing.
“One of your men? Who exactly do you have working for you? Or better yet, who do you work for? And don’t try to lie. I know you’re on the take.”
“Get the fuck out of my face, McCarthy,” he yells, his face contorted with rage. Looks like Mason has a short temper.
And I’ve made an enemy.
Slowly, I leave, stepping out of the taped-off area and back towards my bike.
Fucking Logan.
His phone number seems to burn a hole in my jeans, but I’ve got to get something on Mason or work out what the fuck is going on here. I dial him and wait for the call to connect.
“Red, nice of you to call. I didn’t expect it so soon.” The sound of chaos rings loud and clear in the background of wherever he is, but I’m not surprised.
“How did you… Never mind. What the fuck is happening? I’ve got a stack of murders, and I’m looking at a new crime scene right now. Is this what you meant about putting things right? Killing everyone?”
“Are you out? On the streets?”
