Page 38 of Forging Caine

“Do you mind making some coffee while I finish up here?”

“Certainly.” He came into the room and kissed my cheek before leaving.

Janelle and I had chatted at the police station several times since the shooting at New Year’s. Our old schoolmate and friend, Officer Jimmy Slater, had come clean in the wee hours of the year about everything he’d been doing—working for someone at the pawnshop in Detroit, sneaking property into fire scenes as part of a fraud scam, planting evidence. He got involved with a plot by David and Olivia Scott to kidnap me and get money from Antonio. And then he killed them and nearly killed Antonio and me.

Life would have been very different if Janelle and I had stayed friends. Our plan growing up was to join the FBI together. If we’d graduated in the same class, she wouldn’t have let me leave when Mom died. I wouldn’t have married—

Oh shit. What if something happened to Cass? What if she was here with—No, don’t go there, Sam. Everything’s going well. Everything’s going to continue going well. Life can be good.

“Bella!” hollered Antonio. “She’s here!”

I ran out of the bedroom, down the hall, past Antonio in the kitchen, through the great room to the foyer, just as she knocked.

Don’t be bad news. Don’t be bad news.

One deep breath, a failed attempt to settle myself, and I swung the door open.

Janelle was a hair taller than me, with skin as dark as ebony. Sometime between college and last year, she’d shaved off the hair she used to wear in Bantu Knots or curls, giving herself an even more intimidating look than she possessed naturally. The extra bulk of her duty belt and vest added to the effect.

“Sam.” She took her cap off and nodded curtly.

“Come in.” I closed the door behind her, a shake in my voice. “Antonio’s making coffee, if you’d like some?”

“I thought he was still in Italy?”

“Good morning, Officer Williams,” said Antonio from the kitchen. “Milk, sugar, alternatives, or black?”

She waved to him as we made our way to the dining table by the kitchen. The dark wood table was decorated with a white runner and squat glass candleholders. Six chairs surrounded it. “Black is good, thanks.”

“Is everything alright?” I offered her a chair and sat at the head of the table, clutching my hands together in my lap.Don’t be Cass, Kevin, or the kids.

“I have news about Jimmy.”

All the air rushed out of me and I leaned on the table. “Thank god.”

Antonio placed a mug in front of Janelle and touched my shoulder. “Areyoualright, bella?”

Janelle put her cap on the table. “I should have called. Unexpected visits from the police aren’t usually greeted with smiles.”

“Is his court date finally set?” I asked.

She fiddled with the hat, turning it around, tapping the crest on the front, running her fingers over the peak. “There was an incident.”

My hand launched up to grab Antonio’s. “Incident? That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not.” She moved the hat aside and pulled the mug closer, gripping it with both hands and staring at it. “Between the FBI wanting to question him about a case related to your abduction and the concerns about his safety, they moved him from Clinton County to Wayne County in March.”

I kept my eyes glued to her. She was normally the most commanding presence in a room, but something was different. This was going to be bad. “He didn’t escape, did he?”

She shook her head.

“Bail? Out on leave?”

Janelle stood and paced toward the foyer, her thick-soled boots thumping against the hardwood. She gripped her head, rubbing her hands over her buzz-cut hair. “Rumor had it he was starting to discuss a plea deal with the FBI.”

“Starting to?” I looked up at Antonio, who was as rapt as I was.

She cut off, looked up, then spun on her heel to face us. “They’re calling it a suicide.”

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