Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“ A re you seriously volunteering for another late shift?” Marissa paused to wind the scarf around her neck. Then she pulled the hat down over her ears. “Isn’t Lucy upset that you’ve been pulling a lot of night shifts lately?”
Ian didn’t look up from his computer. “No, she doesn’t mind.”
And it was because she hadn’t noticed.
Since their fight a week ago, they’d barely spoken more than a few words at a time. Outside of anything that needed to be done around the house or anything related to the children, the two of them had nothing to say to each other. Each day that passed without resolving their problems, Lucy felt further and further away from him.
He'd even caught a glimpse of the empty sheet of paper their therapist had given her, and it only made him feel worse.
Ian had no idea how to reach Lucy or if she even wanted to be pulled back.
Being at the station made him feel useful, like he wasn’t in the background fighting to be heard.
Marissa bent down to retrieve her purse from the bottom drawer on her desk. “Okay, if you say so. By the way, did you check and see if Lucy is in for dinner?”
Ian’s fingers kept moving over the keyboard. “Yeah, she’s pretty busy. Once things calm down, I’ll let you know.”
“All right, have a good night.”
“You too.”
As soon as Marissa was gone, Ian pushed his chair back and pressed two fingers to his temples. He rubbed in slow, circular motions, a feeble attempt at warding off the headache. Then he stood up and bent down to touch his fingers to his toes. He did this a few times in an attempt to shake off the stiffness, but nothing helped clear his mind—not even throwing himself into the other cases he had.
On the one hand, he was grateful for the opportunity to keep himself busy. On the other hand, not being any closer to a breakthrough with his mom’s case weighed heavily on him.
After taking several deep breaths, Ian sat back down at his desk and stared at his computer, his mind drawing a complete blank.
Why couldn’t he come up with anything new? Why didn’t the pieces fit together?
Making a low, frustrated sound, Ian pushed his chair away from the desk and stood up. He wandered over to the mini fridge and took out his wrapped burrito and a bottle of water. While he waited for the kettle to boil, he threw a tea bag into the mug and turned the matter over and over in his head.
Without noticing, Ian found himself back in the holding cells, where Jake was stretched out on his mattress, his fingers clasped over his head. Wordlessly, Ian stepped forward and slid the plastic plate with the burrito in between the metal bars. Slowly, he set the Styrofoam cup of tea down next to it and took a few steps back.
Jake sat up, glanced over at the floor, and a flicker of surprise moved over his face. “Are you some kind of glutton for punishment?”
“You were right about us getting off on the wrong foot.”
Jake rose to his feet and sauntered over to the bars, his movements slow and precise. “It must’ve taken a lot for you to be able to admit that.”
Ian shrugged and leaned against the wall opposite the cell. “I figured we’re a lot more useful to each other if we’re on the same side. Even if it’s just temporary.”
Jake bent down, lifted the plate up to his face, and sniffed. “You douse this with something?”
“Do I need to?”
Jake’s dark eyes moved over Ian’s face, leaving unease in his wake. “No.”
With that, Jake bit into the burrito and carried the cup back with him. He set it down at the foot of the bed and tucked his legs underneath him. “What do you want to know?”
Ian raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? All I needed to do to win you over is get you a burrito and a crappy cup of tea?”
“I’m not sure your fellow officers will appreciate your ringing endorsement of the tea,” Jake said in between mouthfuls of food. “And I know a sincere gesture when I see it.”
Ian snorted. “There’s nothing sincere about this.”
Jake studied Ian openly in between bites of his burrito. “You’re the one who wants us to be on the same side.”
“Wasn’t Eric paying you a fortune to spy on us? Why the change of heart?”
Jake swallowed and used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “A man like Eric Taylor is going to cut his losses the second he feels like he’s going to be exposed. He’s already written me off, which means he’s bad-mouthing me to everyone he knows. My career is pretty much done.”
“So, it’s not a change of heart. More like a change of loyalty.”
Jake shrugged and leaned forward to pick up the tea, wisps of steam rising up to warm the bridge of his nose. “I’m the only one I owe my loyalty to. Money won’t buy my loyalty. It buys a service but not my silence. Not if it’s not in my best interest.”
“Honestly, I’m starting to wonder why Eric hired you.”
“You mean, why would he hire someone who would sell him out?” Jake took a few sips of his tea and grimaced. “Because as long as I don’t get caught, I get results. I’m the best in the business.”
“You think really highly of yourself, don’t you?”
Jake crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the bin on the far side of his cell. “When you know you’re good; what’s the point in denying it? You got a cigarette?”
Ian patted his pockets and pulled out an old box he’d stuffed in there earlier. He stepped forward, held the box open, and waited for Jake to come to him. A long moment passed between when Jake shoved the cigarette in between his lips, and Ian searched his pockets for a lighter. The small yellow flame lit up Jake’s face momentarily, revealing harsh lines and dirt smudges before plunging them back into semi-darkness.
Jake blew out a puff of smoke and stood underneath the window. “Eric Taylor isn’t going to stop coming after you. Any of you. He’s obsessed, and the fact you took his daughter and wife away from him is making him even more angry.”
Ian leaned back against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. “We didn’t take them. They left.”
Jake shrugged and blew out another ring of smoke. “The distinction doesn’t seem to matter. Word on the street is his colleagues and peers don’t give him the same amount of respect they used to. The great and powerful Eric isn’t so powerful, after all.”
“What does that have to do with us?”
Jake twisted to face Ian and exhaled. “You and your family are making him look bad. Men like Eric don’t like being questioned, and they don’t like being made fools of.”
“So, he’s just going to keep trying to take us down?”
Jake nodded, his expression turning grim. “I make it a point not to get emotionally involved in my jobs, but I’m going to do you a favor and give you some advice.”
Ice settled in Ian’s veins.
Jake, of all people, shouldn’t be the one giving him advice.
What advice could he possibly have that would make any kind of difference?
Regardless of how helpful he was, Ian knew that Jake’s change of heart had nothing to do with a crisis of conscience and everything to do with wanting to save his own skin. It made Ian distrust him even more.
Not that Jake seemed to care.
“It doesn’t matter what kind of connections you have,” Jake continued after a brief pause. “Eric is a lot more powerful and connected than you think, and he’s got a lot of important people in his back pocket.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to tell me that going up against him is pointless.”
Jake blew out a huge puff of smoke. “No, it’s not pointless. You might be able to get a few solid punches in, but you’re a smart man, Officer Railings. I’m sure you can tell when it’s time to walk away.”
Ian stiffened. “This is my family’s safety you’re talking about.”
Jake’s eyes moved steadily over Ian’s face. “And you know you can’t win. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in here.”
Ian opened his mouth and slammed it shut.
As much as he hated to admit it, Jake was right. The other officers who’d questioned Jake hadn’t been able to get much out of him. Ian had no idea why he thought he’d be any different, but it was clear that Jake was kept on a need-to-know basis.
Eric obviously didn’t trust his henchman.
Jake let the cigarette fall to the floor, and he stubbed it out with the heel of his foot. “Next time, go easy on the mayo.”
Ian pushed himself off the wall. “What makes you think there will be a next time?”
Jake’s smile was a flash of white in the darkness. “Call it intuition. Leave the cigarette box and lighter with the guard.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” Ian told him stiffly.
He turned his back on Jake and hurried away before he could change his mind.
Outside the holding cells, he leaned against the wall and waited for his heart to stop hammering. After checking the clock, he went back to his desk and waited till the end of his shift.
Jake’s words reverberated inside his head the entire time.
By the end of his shift, Ian’s headache was back in full force, and his throat was dry. He messaged his cousin, Jeff, on his way out of the station and bundled into his coat. When he pulled up outside of O’Malley’s, there was a steady stream of people coming in and out of the pub, despite the time.
He squinted at the bright neon sign, with only a few working letters, and pushed his way in. The smell of sweat and alcohol hit him first, followed quickly by the sound of country music wafting through the speakers. Ian waited for his eyes to adjust before he glanced around, taking in the rows of tables set up on either side. Jeff was already seated at the bar, his bald head visible from where Ian stood.
Ian weaved in and out of the throngs of people till he reached the bar and leaned over the counter. The bartender, a tall and well-built man with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paused to wipe the counter and flash him a crooked smile. Ian hopped onto the stool and rolled his shoulders.
Jeff handed him a large glass mug of beer and clapped him on the back. “You look like you need this more than I do, Cous. Rough shift?”
Ian took a long sip of his drink, and his eyes watered. “You could say that. I’m surprised you’re awake.”
“You know I don’t keep regular hours. I go wherever they need me to.” Jeff signaled for another drink and twisted to face Ian. “I heard you’ve been giving Aunt Kelly’s case another go.”
Ian nodded. “Yeah, I am.”
Conversation rose and fell around him.
“You gotta go easy, Cous,” Jeff advised in between sips of his own drink. “You can’t run yourself into the ground.”
“You been talking to Marissa?”
Jeff shrugged, and his dark eyes didn’t leave his face. “Uncle Stu is worried about you. With good reason. You really should be careful.”
Ian stared at a spot over Jeff’s shoulder and smiled when he recognized his cousin, Jonathan, staggering on his feet and pointing at the dart board. “Does Jonathan ever go home?”
Jeff twisted in his seat and shook his head. “Joanne is going to kill him.”
Jonathan spun around, spotted them, and staggered over. Smelling like beer, he draped his arms over his cousins and laughed. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Ian leaned back. “How much you had to drink, Johnny?”
Jonathan removed his arms and squinted. “I have no idea. I’m glad I ran into you though. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
Ian took a long sip of his drink. “Everything okay?”
“If you need any help with Aunt Kelly’s case, you tell me.” Jonathan’s expression turned serious. “I heard my dad talking about how that burglar they caught was sent by Eric Taylor and how he’s coming after us.”
“We need to come up with a plan so he doesn’t catch us by surprise again,” Jeff added with a quick look between the two of them. “I want to help too. Whatever you need, Cous.”
Ian gave them both a tight smile. “Let’s just take it one day at a time.”
The last thing he wanted was to put more of his family members in the crosshairs, and he had no doubt his aunt Ashley and uncle Frankie would wring his neck if he placed their kids in harm’s way.
But Ian also knew he couldn’t face Eric alone.
When push came to shove, Ian had a feeling he would need all-hands-on-deck.