Chapter 50
Chapter
Fifty
After the cafe fiasco, Kate had returned to the hotel and was now pacing around the small, chic little room like a fashionably imprisoned tiger. Cyril knew who she was. Where she was. He’d been polite, but he’d also been clear.
It’s going to be Thomas, or it’s going to be you.
There was a knock on the door, and she jumped, her heart racing.
“Shit,” she breathed, looking around the room. Why hadn’t she grabbed her baseball bat on the way out of her parents’ house? What the hell was she supposed to use to defend herself? Throw a remote control at him? Snap a frickin’ hotel towel?
“Kate?” The voice was muffled, but familiar. “Damn it, Katie, you in there?”
She almost collapsed in relief, going to the door and peeking out.
“Tim, that you?”
“Nope, it’s John Cena,” he said sarcastically. “Open the door, will ya?”
She’d been closer to her older brother Tim when they were young, but the incidents in San Clemente had driven a wedge between them. Once he’d entered the police academy, she’d rarely spoken to him.
Unless her parents were angry at her.
She opened the door. “I see Mom and Dad sent their enforcer.”
He scowled, his tanned face an older, masculine version of her own. It pissed her off to no end that people sometimes mistook them for twins. He was wearing a white polo shirt and a pair of jeans. His badge hung on his belt.
“Guess you’re not undercover,” she added.
“Only way I could get the front desk to tell me where you were,” he said. “They might not want you staying another night, by the way. Seeing as you’re wanted for questioning for a crime I couldn’t discuss with them, and all.”
“Dick,” she muttered. “What do you really want?”
He shut the door behind him, then took in the little room. He finally sat on the bed. She sat at the tiny writing desk, scowling at him.
“Heard you’ve been having an interesting time at work,” he said mildly. “Thought I might be able to help.”
“Translation—you think I’m fucking up, and you have to bail me out.” She realized she sounded about three years old and forced herself to take the petulance out of her voice. “I appreciate you stopping by, really. But I think I’ve got to figure this out on my own.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, leaning against the headboard. “I know how you are.”
She bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, before she could stop herself.
Why is it I revert to a toddler whenever my family pushes my buttons?
Tim sighed. “Let’s pretend that a problem is a locked door to an apartment building.
Mom would wait, patiently and a little resentfully, until someone came by to let her in.
Dad would yell and knock loudly until someone opened up.
I’d figure out a way to break in. But you?
” He shook his head. “You’d take your car and drive through the front door. ”
She frowned. Sometimes she hated her brother. Still, she hated more that he might have a point.
If anyone had some perspective, it would be Tim. And right now, she wasn’t exactly in a position to turn down help.
“So what happened?” he asked, his voice at least a little understanding. “Did Mom and Dad get on your ass about shooting your mouth off to the papers?”
“Yeah.” She winced. “Among other things, anyway. Sort of a perfect shitstorm.”
“I know they come down hard on you,” Tim said. “But they’ve got reasons.”
Kate stiffened. “It’s been years, Tim. How long do I have to keep paying for San Clemente?”
“San Clemente was Dad’s dream job,” Tim said, and Kate felt the familiar shame etch at her like acid. “Not only did you get expelled, you cost him that job and you got a criminal record. For sleeping with a pot dealer at sixteen.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she said, the conversation exhausting her.
It was a variation on a theme, a conversation they’d had for years.
And then avoided for years. “His boss was an asshole who wanted Dad to cover up his son’s crimes.
I don’t care if they were friends back in the day, that ultimately was what it was.
And I wouldn’t have gotten the criminal record if Dad had let that pretty boy son get what he deserved the first time I reported it to him. ”
“Dad didn’t cover it up, though.” Still, Tim’s voice sounded weak.
“He didn’t believe me, either. Then he asked me to just walk away from it.
To just let David take the blame, pretend that asshole wasn’t guilty.
Pretend I didn’t know there was a pot plantation just a few blocks down from us while the guy I was in love with went to prison for stuff that wasn’t even his.
” Kate felt tears sting at her eyes. Even after all these years, she thought. It had to stop hurting sometime.
Tim fiddled with his watch, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m not saying he was right, Kate. I’m just saying look at it from their side.”
Kate swallowed the bitterness. “Whatever. It’s got nothing to do with why I moved out.” She took a deep breath. “I am in bit of trouble.”
“Well, obviously…Oh, Jesus.” He got up, checking the mini-fridge before grabbing two sodas. He took off the tops and handed her one. “What did you do this time?”
“I resent that you think I did something.”
“But you did, or you wouldn’t be here,” Tim countered, then pointed to his watch. “I’ve got to get back to work soon. Talk.”
She grimaced. She’d already decided she couldn’t tell him about the soul stuff. He was the most pragmatic, least “woo-woo hippie magic crap” person she knew. Even her father had a sense of Irish superstition. Tim believed in two things…his job, and his gun.
She had a feeling neither would really be that helpful in her particular circumstances.
“I’m having some trouble at work,” she said.
“Other than shooting yourself in the foot in the news and screwing your boss, you mean?” When she nodded, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me. You’re thinking of quitting, right? Don’t do that.”
If only I could, she thought. “This is not about me being flaky temperamental Kate, incapable of holding down a job.”
“Because Mom and Dad are in financial trouble.”
She blinked. “How’d you find out?”
“Dad asked if there were any police shifts open in Oakland, since San Leandro P.D. laid him off.” Tim looked sad, vaguely angry, and embarrassed.
“I told him there weren’t any hours, just not enough budget.
Then I heard he’s looking at being a security guard.
If they don’t get the money, they might lose the house. ”
“I already know,” she admitted.
Tim stared her down. “And you know why, right?”
“He shouldn’t have loaned Uncle Felix money,” she muttered. Of course, she had learned that the hard way herself, a while ago, so she couldn’t really throw stones, could she?
“They were trying to keep you employed,” Tim said.
“They shouldn’t have done that, either.”
“They were worried about you,” Tim continued relentlessly.
“They always worry about you. So please, tell me you’ll move home and help them out.
Tell me you’re not going to quit. I mean, don’t sleep with your boss, obviously.
But don’t make them worry about you more, on top of everything else they’ve got going on. ”
“Damn it, Tim, I’m not quitting.” Kate winced. “I signed a contract. I can’t quit.”
“Good.” Tim leaned forward, pinning her with his gaze. It probably worked well in interrogation rooms. “Then what’s the problem?”
She bit her lip. “I told you. I’m having trouble. At work.”
Tim sighed. “What kind of trouble?”
She rubbed her temples, trying to figure out how to say they want to use me as bait for a serial killer without actually, you know, saying it. “I’m not comfortable with some of the things they’re asking me.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “They asking you to do anything illegal?”
“No,” she said quickly. Not yet, anyway.
Obviously killing those people was going to be illegal, but right now, she didn’t seem to be an integral part of that side of the business.
For that matter, she might not even survive long enough to become an accomplice to that part of Thomas’s to-do list. “But let’s just say there are some things that aren’t right. I don’t know if I can do them.”
“Kate, you’ve been spoiled, working for Uncle Felix,” Tim said, rolling his eyes. “It’s called work because it’s not fun.”
She stood up. “I’m curious. Could you be a little more insulting?” she snapped. “You know I worked my ass off for Uncle Felix. This isn’t because I’m lazy and I don’t want to do the job. You know I’m not like that.”
Tim rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, I know that,” he said. “Sorry. Low blow. You’re high maintenance, and you’re, like, ridiculous levels of unprofessional, but you’re not a slacker.”
She wanted to protest that, too, but with her “banging the boss” line highlighting every news outlet on the planet, she knew she didn’t have a solid argument.
“Something’s hinky,” she said instead. “I signed a contract and I can’t quit. I’ll do the job, I don’t want to flake on this. But I don’t want to get screwed, either.”
“Think maybe you’re being paranoid?” Tim asked.
“Felix was my uncle, and he still screwed me over,” she pointed out.
“About that. I’m gonna have a talk with Uncle Felix ,” Tim muttered darkly. “He’s been dodging my calls. Asshole. I’m going to his house, soon.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kate said, and between them they had mirroring smiles of vengeance. Her brother might be a thorn in her side, and quite often a self-righteous, judgmental butthole—but once upon a time, he’d been one of her best friends.
It wasn’t till she’d lost everyone else that she realized how much she missed him. Especially now that she might, you know, die.
He frowned, picking up on her somber mood. “What, exactly, do you feel isn’t ‘right?’”
And here was the tricky part. “They’re going into this business deal,” she said slowly. “And I think they’re covering their asses. So if things blow up, I’ll be the one who takes the fall.”
And, you know, die.
Tim’s frown deepened. “And you can’t refuse to do whatever they’re asking you to do?”
“Nope. I can’t even talk about it. My contract with them is pretty iron-clad, and his lawyers are no joke.” They were probably demons, too, now that she thought about it. Literally.
Tim nodded, then started pacing. “Any way you can make sure the thing just doesn’t blow up?”
“Nothing I’ve come up with,” she admitted. “Too many things are out of my control.”
“Well, I’m no business guy,” he said. “But if my commander were setting me up, I’d see if I could talk things out with him.”
“Um, yeah.” She thought of her last “talk” with Thomas. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
Tim caught it. It was part of what made him a great detective. “How much trouble are you really in, sis?” he asked quietly.
She grimaced. “The usual amount.”
“Oh, Jesus.” He rubbed his face. “That’s not good.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Can you go over your boss’s head?” Tim asked. “If it were me, I wouldn’t go to internal affairs unless I absolutely had to. But I’d get a bunch of the guys together. I might talk to the captain.”
She frowned. “Nobody’s higher than Thomas, so I can’t do that. And I don’t really have anybody else who’d be on my side.”
Tim’s expression turned even more grim. “If this blows up and you do take the fall, what’s the worst that could happen?”
She swallowed. I die a horrible, painful death. “It’d be bad.”
“Like, go-to-prison bad?”
In a matter of speaking. Hell was the ultimate penitentiary. “I’d definitely be paying for it for a long time.”
“They’re not going to care about you,” he said, with a long, frustrated huff. “In that case… do whatever you have to do to cover your own ass. Even if it means quitting.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He looked solemn. “You need help?”
She laughed. “You think I’m a total and complete fuck-up.”
“Yeah, but you’re still my sister.”
For a brief second, she thought about telling him everything. But Tim was still a cop. And if he knew the extent of the trouble she was in—she couldn’t stand the thought of him getting hurt, or dying, trying to bail her out of yet another scrape, no matter how serious this one was.
“No, I just needed someone to talk to,” she said, getting up. Impulsively, she gave him a hug. “Love you, Tim.”
He looked startled. “Love you, too,” he said. “But don’t get all mushy on me, or I’ll give you a noogie.”
She laughed, feeling a bit better. “Go write some parking tickets,” she said, gesturing to the door. “I’ll be okay.”
“Call me,” he said, then frowned. “And lock the door, will you?”
She locked the deadbolt behind him. Sitting in the empty hotel room, she thought about what he’d said. Then she fished in her pocket.
She had to look out for herself. She liked Thomas—more than liked him. But at the end of the day, he’d dangle her in front of a serial killer to get his soul back. If it was a question between her dying, and him dying...
He’d choose himself.
Why should she do less?
She paused. Then she pulled out her cell phone.
And Cyril’s business card.