Page 86 of Sinful Promise
“I collected irrefutable evidence,” she bites back, the way she did when we had this same conversation. “I let the legal system have its shot. But when it failed, just like it did with Fentone, I stepped in and put an end to it.”
“Andyou…” He looks to me and grits his teeth. “You worked Dowel’s case with me, knowing you were fucking his killer at night.”
“Don’t.” I shove him back when he wants to tower over Minka. “Don’t disrespect her.”
“So I can mention she’s a killer,” he barks, “but god forbid I mention your sex life?”
“I said don’t!”
He swings out quickly with a balled fist and slams it to my jaw so I see stars and my head snaps around. Darkness works to shut me down, but instincts keep me on my feet and bring my hands up in response.
“You let me run Fentone’s caseknowingwho killed the prick.”
“It was our case to run!” I step between him and Minka when he goes to move toward her again. “We were assigned the fuckin’ case, Fletch. What did you want me to do?”
“Tell me the truth!” he roars. “Tell me, so I’m not left with my dick swinging in the breeze, working a case we can’t solve. Cornstarch is in the gloves she wears, right?”
He leans around and looks at Minka. “You nagged me for the fucking casefiles, Mayet! You wanted Fentone’s jacket, you’d been looking into him for fuckingweeks.” Then he brings his stare back to me. “You left me to work an unsolvable case.”
“Every case can be solved.” Again, I step when he steps. “Every single case. So I let you run it.”
“And Garzo knew,” he sneers.
Maybe my face pales, or perhaps my eyes burn hotter, but he reads me easily and laughs.
“He doesn’tknow. But fuck, he knows you’re going out of your way not to solve Dowel’s murder. He had information to give us, and you just wouldn’t stop giving him the runaround.”
“So, what? You go to Garzo alone now?” I charge closer and tear the blade from his hand when his eyes burn against Minka. I snap the blade closed and toss it to the couch. But then I whip the gun from my holster and point it when he does the same with his.
Everything moves too quickly. Hands are too practiced. Guns are drawn, and safeties removed.
“Put it away,” he growls dangerously. “Slowly. Put your fucking piece away before you do something we’ll both regret.”
Tension builds in our tiny apartment. The living room is too small to house two men, two guns, and the vigilante in between. My calf touches the couch, and Fletch’s touches the television stand. And Minka… steps between us.
I lower my pistol in a millisecond.
“Archer didn’t know.” Bravely—or stupidly—she reaches up and touches the barrel of his gun with her fingers. “Archer didn’t know about Dowel when you were running the case. He didn’t lie to you.”
“But he knew about Fentone, didn’t he?” He doesn’t lower his gun, but he flips the safety on with a fast slide of his thumb. “He not only knew, but he was there.”
She shakes her head. An instant denial. “I cannot, and will not, comment on Detective Malone’s actions. But,” she offers her hands, wrists close together, “do whatever you’ve gotta do, Detective Fletcher. Though you should know, I do not regret my actions. I’m not sorry for the lives I’ve ended, and I won’t stop.”
This is the talk we’ve already had. The fucking future I was signing up for.
Not only that she’d killed in the past, but if the situation arose and there were no other options, she would do it again.
She won’t stop.
“I shot Fentone.” I push forward and step in front of his gun. Then I reach up and fist the barrel until the end touches my forehead. “I didn’t tell you, because I needed one of us to be able to sit in court and not commit perjury if this ever came to trial. I can’t be compelled to testify against my wife, Fletch. But if this got out, I needed you to keep your job and help the people who need you.”
“You lied to my face.” His eyes scald with more than anger. There’s hurt there. Bitterness. Sadness. “You didn’t trust me with the truth.”
“I didn’tburdenyou with the truth,” I argue. The cold steel of his gun somehow warms my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you with information you’d be forced to turn in to the captain.”
“I never disagreed with what the vigilante was doing.” Slowly, desperately, he looks to Minka. “We argued about it, because I wanted Dowel dead too. And he,” he brings his eyes back to me, “you were the one who said no one gets to be judge, jury, and executioner.”
“Things changed for me. Things happened.”
