Savage Ice (Ice Breaker Cold Case #10)

Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

“Save us all time and effort and, for once in your life, do the right thing.” Campbell glared down at Beau with disgust on his face. “Confess to your crimes. Admit the truth about what you’ve been doing.”

Oh, sure, he could confess to some things. “I admit?—”

The door flew open. Ophelia filled the doorway. Lane stood just behind her.

I admit that you’re an asshole. Aw, he hadn’t gotten the chance to share those heartfelt words with the detective. Too bad. Maybe next time.

There would always be a next time.

“What is happening here?” Ophelia demanded, voice dramatically accusing. “Surely it is not two detectives, interrogating a suspect, without the suspect’s lawyer present?”

“The man never asked for a lawyer,” Campbell snapped back. “And you should not be here. Why the hell is everyone always busting in like this is some free-for-all? It’s a closed interrogation room.”

Beau cleared his throat. “I actually did ask for a lawyer. An important point, I believe, to note.”

Campbell blinked at him. “What?”

“It was the first thing I did when the uniforms pulled me over. Told them that I really wanted to chat with my friend Ophelia.” He shrugged. His cuffed hands scraped over the top of the table. “I believe I even told them that I didn’t want to chat without my very ‘good buddy’ with me. Yet here we are. Chatting away.”

“I’m his good buddy Ophelia Raine,” she clarified sweetly. “His lawyer.”

“You’re the PI.” Campbell’s face had scrunched up. An even worse look than normal for him.

“I’m a PI and a lawyer.” A little smirk came and went on her face. “Go ask some of your detective buddies. They know exactly who I am. A woman who adores wearing many hats because they all make me look stylish.” She waved a hand behind her. “And this is my partner, Lane.”

Lane wasn’t a lawyer. He was a PI. So, yes, technically her partner. But she’d worded things ambiguously with the cops. Beau had learned that trick from her and now used it to his advantage at every opportunity.

“If you had my client talking after he specifically asked to speak with his lawyer…” A sad shake of her head. She even made a tut-tut click with her tongue. “That is going to prove highly problematic for you.”

“He was just about to admit his crimes!” Campbell’s breath heaved in and out as a vein bulged near his forehead.

“Really? Why would an innocent man confess anything?” She hauled a chair away from the wall and put it right next to Beau. “By the way.” Her nails tapped across his arm as she settled into her chair. “Colton Ross used to be a firefighter in New Orleans.”

Beau lunged up.

But Lane had sidled behind him, and Lane’s hard grip on his shoulders pushed him right back down.

“Thought you’d like to know that,” Ophelia murmured as both Lynn and Campbell frowned at her. “And also know that Avalon has left the station. She’s in good hands. But she really, really wants you to hurry home to her.” Her fingers came together in a little steeple in front of her as she faced off with the detectives. “Now, how about we speed this situation along? I’ve got an innocent client. You’ve got a misunderstanding with a man who may or may not be tied to this whole twisted mess that stretches back for years…and I want to know what needs to happen so that Beau walks out of here. Preferably in the next thirty minutes.”

“How does it go back for years with Colton?” Lynn asked as her head cocked. She craned forward a bit.

“Beau isn’t walking out of here. Over my dead body does this killer walk,” Campbell snarled.

“That could be arranged,” Beau offered.

Lane’s grip tightened on his shoulders. “My friend, you are not helping things.”

No, he probably wasn’t. His bad. But playing nicely with Detective Cuntingham? So hard.

“You should get some sleep,” Royal advised Avalon. “It’s nearing midnight.”

And Beau still wasn’t home. She’d been pacing for hours. Glancing out of the front windows far too many times.

They were in Beau’s house. With Beau’s security system firmly in place. But Beau was nowhere to be found.

“Ophelia texted me an update not too long ago. She isn’t giving up. Colton came to the station. Went over his statement again and left. When the cops tried to ask him about his time in New Orleans, he clammed up and got the hell out of there.”

Like that wasn’t a big, flashing, warning sign?

“Ophelia thinks the cops are suspicious of him now, but you still have the word of an arson investigator going against Beau. And, well, Beau did confess to pulling the knife.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “The man is confessing to far too damn much these days.”

She let the curtain fall. Beau wasn’t close. She should stop looking into the dark. “You’re referring to the extracurriculars?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Avalon turned toward him. “I mean the habit you and Beau seem to have where you track down killers, knock them out, and leave them cuffed for the cops to find. Oh, and you put red bows on them. Because that’s just a touch that can’t be forgotten, am I right?”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Why the hell would I do something like that?”

“Because you don’t like the idea of killers getting away with their crimes?” That was her suspicion. “But it’s one very deadly habit.”

Royal grunted. “You’re one to talk. Though I guess, technically, yours isn’t a habit so much as it is a deadly career path.”

It had certainly taken a deadly turn recently. “You’re playing with fire.”

Laughter. “No, I think that would be the guy after you. He’s the one starting fires left and right.” Now he rose from the couch. “Come on, Avalon, would you really be pissed if Beau and I caught the man who has been after you for so long? If we cuffed him and had him waiting for the cops like a way early Christmas present?”

“Is that the plan? Cuffing him? Or is it killing him?”

Royal closed in on her. “I think if Beau had his way, the guy would just wind up in the ground.”

“And is that what was supposed to happen? Beau started an investigation on the arsonist, he pulled in his team, and when the perp was located, you and Beau were just going to step in?” She held her breath as she waited for the answer.

His head cocked. “If I say yes, will that make you hate Beau? Will you go running from him because you think he’s some kind of monster?”

Her lips pressed together.

“He’s loved you for years.” Blunt. “I get that he’s not exactly Prince Charming, and I told him that he should just freaking talk to you and not hang in the shadows, but he’s never felt like he’s good enough for you. When you’re thrown away by the people who are supposed to protect you, it’s hard to ever feel good.”

He’s speaking about himself. Him and Beau. “Beau is plenty good.”

“Good enough for you to ever love? Can you look past what he is—what he’s done—to ever love him? Or when he takes care of the dirty work and clears up the ashes so that you’re finally safe—truly safe—will you walk away and never look back?”

They needed to be very clear on this. “I have no intention of walking away from Beau.”

His eyes widened.

“But I also have no intention of letting the father of my future children sneak out and hunt killers every night. Far too dangerous of a pastime, don’t you think? I’d prefer that he take up golfing. Much less stressful.”

“He can’t golf for shit.” A dazed shake of Royal’s head. “Did you just call him the father of your kids?”

“Future children. Don’t have any yet. Can’t have any until he gets his butt out of the police station.” Once more, she headed back for the window. She peered out.

Darkness.

“You’re in love with him.”

“And I have been since he nearly died saving my life. I’ve got one hell of a hero fixation, and the only hero I ever see? It’s him. So don’t talk to me about Beau not being good enough.” Her grip tightened on the curtain. “He is everything I want.”

“You want a man with a dark side?”

“You have no idea how much darkness I have inside myself. Beau fits me, perfectly.” In every way.

Now come home, Beau. Come home to me.

“This is absurd!” Impatience spiked Ophelia’s words. “We’ve been here for hours. My client should be home in bed, sleeping! Not answering the same questions over and over again in an endless loop!”

Lynn exhaled. “I think we’re done here.”

The voice of reason. About time. Beau knew it was after midnight. The freaking clock had been tick-tick-ticking all night. At least the detectives had relented and removed his cuffs a while back.

“He’s not leaving,” Campbell denied quickly. “We’ve got a cell waiting for him. He’ll be arraigned tomorrow.”

“Oh, the hell—” Beau began angrily.

The door opened. “He’s free to go.”

All eyes whipped toward that open door.

Douglas Baptiste stood in the doorway. A bandage was on the side of his head.

“But—but DA Baptiste,” Campbell sputtered.

“I already talked to your boss. The charges aren’t sticking. The case has been dropped. I spoke with Colton Ross on the phone, too. All a misunderstanding.” His head inclined toward Beau. “You’re free to go.”

“No!” An immediate denial from Campbell.

“Yes,” Douglas responded with a sigh. “And if you have a problem with that, take it up with your captain.”

“I will,” the detective vowed. “I am not done with you, Beau LeBlanc!” He stormed from the interrogation room.

“I worry he has a crush.” Ophelia slumped back in her chair. “Some people just don’t let go easily.”

Lane took her hand and pulled her from the chair. “You’re exhausted. And I’m taking you to bed.”

“Perfect.” Her other hand fluttered toward Beau. “I’ll send you a bill.”

“Of course, you will.” He stood. Stretched his back. How the hell long had he been in that seat?

“We’ll also talk very soon about…other things,” she promised.

He was sure they would. But Detective Baker was still watching them, and the DA was in the room, so they’d definitely save that chat until later. Right then, all he wanted to do was get to Avalon. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely. You owe me so much.”

Lane tugged her toward the door. “Stay out of trouble for the rest of the night, would you, buddy?”

He would make no promises.

Beau moved to follow them out.

Douglas stepped into his path. “You saved my life.”

“Nah. I just picked you up when you’d fallen.” Or when a prisoner had knocked his ass out.

Without looking away from Beau, Douglas said, “Detective Baker, mind giving us a moment of privacy?”

“Take as many moments as you want. I’m going home.” She shuffled past them. “Listen to your friend,” she urged Beau. “Stay out of trouble. I don’t like having you in my interrogation room.”

Not like he loved being there. I want to be with Avalon. With a soft click, the door shut behind the detective.

“That inmate who bashed my head in? His name is Shamus Quarrel. I sent him to prison on a life sentence.”

“So he doesn’t love you, check.”

“When his punishment was read in court, it took three guards to haul him away. And as they did, he kept screaming about how he would rip me apart.” A pause. “If you had left me in that corridor, I would be dead right now. Make no mistake about it. So…” A cough. “You said I could thank you later. Consider this moment my thanks.”

Interesting. “You always pay your debts so fast, counselor?”

“No. Sometimes it takes me a while to catch up and understand things. But I do catch up. Always.”

“Good to know.”

“I’m assuming you already know the body found in Slater Wade’s home was that of a prison guard from McKinley?”

“I believe Campbell mentioned that fact once or twice. He’s a chatty one, that detective.”

“That particular guard was in the room when Avalon and I were talking to Everett Thomas the first time.”

Beau nodded.

“He had phone records that tied to Slater Wade. He was the connection between Slater and Everett. So it does look like Everett might have given the order for Slater to attack Avalon at her home.”

He could buy that. But pieces were still missing. “Who the hell killed the guard? And torched Slater’s rental house?”

“Thought maybe you would know. Or at least have a few ideas that you wanted to share with the class.”

“If I knew, he’d be dead.”

Douglas winced. “Take a tip from a new, semi-friend. Don’t tell shit like that to the DA.”

“Colton Ross is on my list.”

Douglas’s forehead wrinkled. “Because he had you arrested?”

“Because he used to work for the New Orleans Fire Department around the time Avalon was caught in a Garden District blaze. Because I found him poking around in her bedroom hours ago. And because he had my ass arrested, yes.”

“Any other names you want me to run? People I should be checking out?”

“Since your detectives seem busy focusing on me and not on other possible killers…yeah, here’s something to explore.” Like he was going to turn away help from the DA? Not happening. Then again, he’d never thought the DA would offer to help. “Your guy Campbell knows one hell of a lot about fire.”

His eyes widened. “You’re suggesting a detective is involved.”

Beau shrugged. He figured the DA could connect the dots. He’d said what he’d said, after all.

“Fantastic.” Douglas sounded like it was anything but fantastic.

“My team found a few other potential victims of the arsonist.”

“You have a team now?” A nod. “Sure. Why not?”

“I’ll send the intel to your office. We can make progress faster together.”

“Damn straight, we can.” Douglas extended his hand to Beau. “Sorry about the time I tried to get you locked away for murder.”

“I was innocent.” He stared at the hand. “Don’t do it again.”

“How about I only promise to lock you away for murder if you’re guilty?”

“Sure. But don’t forget, self-defense isn’t murder.” He took the hand. “Am I right, counselor?”

Silence. Then, “You are one hard-to-figure-out sonofabitch.”

“I have been told that before.”

Douglas let him go. “Got your Jag out of impound. Consider it part of my thanks.” He rattled off directions to find the Jag. “Should be a quick walk for you. Keys will be waiting inside so you can drive off and go find Avalon. I know she’s your priority. I saw the way you watched her at McKinley.”

“Don’t need to find her. I know exactly where she is.” Home. And I’m coming home to you, sweetheart. “Thanks for the assist, DA.”

Douglas stepped out of his path. “Thanks for the ass-saving, LeBlanc.”

Beau headed for the door. “Did anyone mention that I carried you out? Ever-so-carefully?”

“Sonofabitch.”

Smiling, Beau left interrogation. On his way out of the station, he flashed a one-fingered wave to a glowering Detective Campbell Cunningham.

Ophelia and Lane were waiting near the station’s front door.

“Need a lift?” Lane asked.

“Thanks, but apparently, my ride is waiting.” Courtesy of the DA.

When her phone rang, Avalon jumped an inch. The sudden cry shocked her. Not that she’d been sleeping. She hadn’t even been in bed. She’d been pacing near the piano and waiting for word on Beau.

She grabbed the phone and whipped it up to her ear. “Beau?”

“I’m coming home.”

Her breath shuddered out. “You’re clear? They dropped the charges?”

“Your buddy Douglas Baptiste got the charges dropped.”

“Sorry. We must have a terrible connection. I could have sworn you said the DA just had your charges dropped.”

“He did.” A whistle. “Maybe he’s not a complete jackass.”

“He’s not,” she whispered. Royal sidled in front of her. She mouthed, Beau is coming home.

Royal’s breath expelled in a rush.

“Getting my car and coming back to you.” A pause. “Royal is close, isn’t he?”

“Standing right in front of me like an insanely fierce bodyguard.”

“And you two are playing nicely?”

Not exactly playing. “Don’t worry about us. Just get here.”

“But I do worry about you.” Soft. “All the time. I want you safe, Avalon. You matter. You get that, don’t you?”

Her hold on the phone tightened. “You matter, too, Beau.”

“You don’t have to tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“I-I’m not.” You matter.

“I can see the Jag. It’s near the curb.” He said something else, and this time, she did lose the connection.

“Beau? I can’t hear you.”

“Coming…home…”

“Wherever you are, the connection is crap.” She didn’t want to let him go, and Avalon was afraid their connection would completely die at any moment. “Be careful? Hurry home. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Avalon…” Soft. A little sad. “I’ve been waiting…my whole life for…”

“Beau? I couldn’t quite make out?—”

But the call had ended.

I’ve been waiting my whole life for you.

She hadn’t heard him. He’d lost the call right at the end. But that was okay. Soon enough, he’d be with Avalon, and he could tell her again just how much she mattered. He never, ever wanted her to doubt that she meant everything to him.

His Jag waited to the right. The cops had impounded the vehicle. They’d cuffed him at the scene, put him in the back of the patrol car, and then Avalon had launched in after him.

Avalon.

She’d ridden in the back of the patrol car to the station. Once at the station, she’d kept telling anyone who would listen that there had been a mistake. A misunderstanding.

She’d kept defending him. She knew his secrets. All of them. But she kept defending him.

Mistake, my ass.

He opened the unlocked door. Who left an unlocked Jag with the keys inside it? Were they trying to get his ride stolen? Even near a police station, a Jag wasn’t going to be completely safe. Damn.

Beau slid inside. He still gripped the phone and?—

Something jabbed into his neck. Hard. Like a bee stinging him. His hand flew up, still gripping the phone, and he smashed…

What the hell? A needle?

Soft laughter teased his ears. “Didn’t you learn anything from Owen Bell? Because I did.”

Some bastard was in the backseat of his Jag. Beau swung out with his fist and clipped the freak in the jaw. But it was a sloppy hit. Weak. Wild. Because?—

I don’t feel right.

“Owen always used horse tranquilizers on his vics. The tranq knocks them out so easily. I pumped the syringe so full, my friend.” More laughter. “Nighty-night, asshole.”

No. No. He still had the phone. Clutched in his hand. The hand he’d fisted and swung, and his fingers fumbled over it as he tried to make a call.

His contacts…

Contact one…

“When you wake up, you’re going to be in hell. I promise you that.”

Beau felt the last of his consciousness flow into a sea of black.

Royal’s phone rang. Frowning, he pulled it from his pocket and frowned at the screen. “Didn’t he just talk to you like…two seconds ago?” he asked Avalon as he brought the phone to his ear. “Bro, you need to have better service if you’re wanting to talk to?—”

“When you wake up, you’re going to be in hell.”

His blood iced. “Beau?”

“I promise you that.”

Not Beau’s voice. Not his freaking brother’s voice. “Beau!” Royal roared. And Avalon lunged toward him.

But the line had gone dead.