Page 96 of Enticing the Fixer

After Jagger and Beckett bound up the stairs, Beckett pounds on the door. I stand ready to shift in any direction. Mac growls. “It’s okay, boy. Be ready.”

A shadow flashes behind the curtain in the living room, and Lincoln shifts to the left, away from the front door.He’s going to run.I jump off the front porch and race in the direction he went.

Bang.The glass in the window in front of me shatters. It’s pitch black in whatever room he’s escaped to. The whooshing of fabric alerts me to the curtain being shoved out of the way. I step to the right and press against the siding as the man’s head pokes through the jagged glass.

Down the street, a dog howls and barks at the intrusion of its quiet world being interrupted.

As he drops out of the opening, I drop Mac’s leash. “Faas!”

I grab the back of the man’s shirt and hold him in place as Mac places his front paws on his chest and snarls at him. If he gets away, Mac’s been trained to bite down on whatever he can get ahold of and not let go.

“Son of a bitch.” The man twists and turns as he tries to get away.

I can’t make out his features or the color of the fabric in my hand.

“Asshole, let me the fuck go. I’m a police officer.”

“You were a police officer.” Beckett Carter pins a high beam flashlight in the man’s eyes. “After tonight, you won’t hold that distinction.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“Dude,” Beckett tsks. “You don’t have to. We’ve already found the evidence we need. At your desk, we found the original tapes of the night Jack Monroe was killed and last night’s feeds of Marge Graham kidnapping his daughter, Kinsley Monroe. Why did you keep the originals? To hold over the murder’s head.”

“I don’t have anything to say,” Lincoln bites out in Beckett’s direction as Mac and I continue with our death grips. He’ll run if he has an opening. His eyes are narrow to prevent the bright light from destroying his vision.

“You’re right. You don’t have anything to say. Your partner admitted everything. You held the evidence over Carla Leitner’s head so you and your cronies could screw her.” Beckett barks out a laugh as my friends surround us, ensuring no opportunity for him to escape.

“Halt!” Mac drops his paws down to the ground and remains at my feet. “Good boy.”

“You kept video evidence of that as well,” Beckett says. “It’s so sick I can’t find anyone to feel sorry for. Murder, covering up murder and kidnapping, rape. It’s all disgusting. I guess you both deserved each other.” He grabs Lincoln’s arm from my hands. “Luckily, once we have her arrested, you can be pen pals.”

Carla? How is she connected to Marge? It doesn’t make any sense. Why didn’t I ever suspect her? I rake a hand through my hair. Why didn’t I find the connection?

Everything that happened over the last couple of weeks spins through my head. Every interaction I had with Carla. Yes, she gave off a stalker vibe, but murdering Jack? Why?

“Bite me.”

I stop in front of Jagger. “We’ve got to get to Carla’s place before it’s too late. What’s her address?”

“Got it.” He holds up his phone with an indecipherable address on the screen.

Before we put her back against the wall, I need answers. Answers lead to pressure points.

Maverick moves behind me as the rest of the guys surround us. I grab Lincoln’s shoulders and yank him toward me. “Why did Carla kill Jack?”

If necessary, I’ll sport my own pair of silver cuffs. And if Kinsley wasn’t in danger, I’d finagle my way into the cruiser’s backseat and take my frustrations out on the son of a bitch.

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

One corner of my mouth raises into a feral snarl. “Yes, you do. I have enough money to get you out of anything.” Which is complete bullshit. I’m not interfering in legal justice. He knew Kinsley’s father was killed and hid it–just to get his dick sucked.

But I have no qualms about lying through my teeth to get what I want.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your savior. Or your worst nightmare. Because if you don’t tell me why she murdered Jack Monroe, I’m going to make sure the only skill you have in prison is picking up the soap in the shower. And we already know there’s a lot of people lined up and waiting to stick it up a cop’s ass.

“Fuck you,” he bites out, but the set of his shoulders tells a different story. He’s scared. “Her aunt is Marge Graham. She was married at one point but never had children. After her divorce, she took an unhealthy interest in Carla as her surrogate daughter. Her aunt shifted her unhealthy attention to Jack, and–”

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