Chapter Eleven
NIKKI
Cade woke me before he left in the morning. Although I managed to drag him back into bed, clutching onto his arms and pulling him on top of me, he’d rewarded my desire with a heated make-out session full of promises before he pulled away and told me he had to run some errands.
What errands could be more important than his mouth between my legs?
Or mine between his.
Fuck. He was so fucking hot!
I felt giddy, like a goddamn teenager or something, a raging bag of hormones that piqued whenever he touched me.
I’m not sure what I expected from him, but it certainly wasn’t the animalistic fucking he gave when he finally let go.
Cade had been so gentle, well, mostly with his kisses and caresses, but once that barrier was down, there was a darkness behind his eyes.
He’d watch me as though I were a possession, as though he owned me.
And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it.
But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight him for power between the sheets.
Despite everything going on, my suspension wasn’t far from the front of my mind, and as always, thoughts of my father’s case pretty much consumed every part of my brain not dedicated to eating and breathing.
But I was feeling pretty good. There was a spring in my step and an unmistakable sweet ache between my thighs, all thanks to Cade.
A shiver ran down my spine, and simply thinking of him touching me was enough to get me in the mood again. I wondered if he had planned to come back and see me after his errands and if it would be too much to call him and ask.
Picking up my cell, I released a low whistle.
It was almost ten, I’d slept in after Cade had left, and apparently, I needed the sleep.
A bubble of resentment sprung up in my gut, and I recognized it for what it was a second before I was overcome with guilt for allowing it to exist in the first place.
Resentment for my father’s case, for both my inability to solve it and the fact it had taken over my life.
I hadn’t seen my girlfriends in a year, and up until Cade, hadn’t had a date or sex in equally as long.
The more time the case took, the more I threw myself into it, convincing myself I must have missed something, and I was repeatedly going over the same information, desperate for a new clue.
But there was nothing, and after three years, I was being forced to face the fact that perhaps I was wasting my life. How could I let Dad down, though? It was so wrong, and it stung a sharp pain in my heart even to think of having to really let the case go and, therefore, letting Dad go.
What would I do without the case to focus on?
Live. Work. Be a cop. See friends.
Be with Cade.
It felt selfish.
My cell vibrated in my hand, making me jump and rousing me from my musings. Private number. I frowned as I stared at the screen. I didn’t usually answer private numbers, but something about the continued ringing, long after a telemarketer would have given up, felt insistent.
Swiping to answer the call, I paused a beat before lifting the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
It wasn’t quite silence on the other end. There was an unsettling static interference and breathing, steady and deep.
I wanted to hang up, but something made me ask again. “Hello?”
“Hello, Nikola.”
The voice sent chills down my spine, and my hand began to sweat around my cell. “Who is this?”
“A little birdy told me you’ve been investigating where you shouldn’t.”
My stomach lurched. Was I speaking to my father’s murderer? My mouth was too dry to speak.
“This little birdy also told me…” he continued, adding ominous pauses that I couldn’t be sure if they were for dramatic effect or not. Either way, it increased my nerves every time I had to listen to that static. “Apparently, you’re quite relentless.”
I found my voice again. “Who. Is. This?”
“I’m the sort of man you don’t want the attention of, sweet Nikola.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
The responding chuckle was low and quiet, and I had to press the phone to my ear to hear his next words.
“There comes a time in life when you must let things go, sweet girl. All your searching and questioning, all the work you do out of hours, you need to let it all go. I know it can’t be easy.
I’m a sentimental man myself, and right now, I’m doing some cleaning up and letting go of my own, and Nikola…
” He paused, and I held my breath. “Don’t let yourself become part of my cleanup, like my unfortunate little birdy, who talked an awful lot. ”
“Who is this?” I shouted into the phone, but he’d already hung up.
Dropping the phone onto the mattress, I sunk my face into my hands and groaned, allowing a moment for the trembling of my shoulders to subside.
Whoever this man was, if he thought a phone call was going to dissuade me, he didn’t know me at all.
I didn’t think I was close with my investigation, but apparently, I was upsetting someone by simply looking, so maybe I was closer than I thought.
Dad, what were you involved in?
Don’t let yourself become part of my cleanup.
Is that what happened to Officer Kim? Was whoever this was jumping ship and tying up any loose ends before they did? And who was the little birdy?
Since I had to go to the station to hand in my handcuffs, it was the perfect opportunity to snoop around a bit and see if anything had happened that may have triggered the phone call.
How did he get my number?
But even more disturbing was the next question—how much did he know about me?
He knew who my father was, that I was investigating, and my name, that much I could verify. Did he know where I lived and worked? Was I being followed?
Casting a glance over my shoulder, I bound out of bed and yanked down the window blind in my bedroom.
Suddenly, my home felt incredibly exposed.
Despite the fact that there was no window access—someone would need to either break into my tiny courtyard and walk down the side of the house or scale a six-foot mesh fence to the bin area—every window felt like a threat now.
I wanted desperately to go to the practice range and fire off a few shots, something to ease my mind and remind me I knew how to look after myself.
But since I had to hand in my gun, I’d have to make do with the gym.
Maybe someone there would be willing to spar with me.
I thought of Cade. I like to fight, he’d said.
Well, if he didn’t already think I was a weirdo for asking him to a graveyard to mourn the loss of my father and then back to my place to search for misplaced handcuffs we’d use in an inappropriate sex game, he certainly would think I was strange if I asked him to fight me to work out some stress.
He might ask why I was so additionally stressed, and I didn’t want him to worry. Cade seemed the type who would try to solve my problems for me, and a mystery man threatening my life wasn’t something I wanted him involved in.
I was a cop.
I could handle this myself.
Because I’d done so well so far.
Sighing, I eyed my uniform, squeezing my eyes shut before settling on some jeans and a loose T-shirt. I’d have a shower when I got back, and maybe the running warm water would help me think because it was certainly too much to hope it could help me relax.
The drive to the station was quick and uneventful.
I’d missed rush hour, and was in the small window before the lunch rush began.
Striding into the station, I tried to keep my head high, feigning that the stares didn’t bother me as I made my way to the front desk before sliding my handcuffs across the counter.
Lieutenant Niles was leaning on the edge of the counter, and I was about to offer a sheepish hello when I took a better look at his face.
His brow was furrowed deeply, his lips pressed into a thin line, and one hand was halfway through combing his gray hair, gripping it lightly.
I scribbled my signature on the required paperwork to complete the sign-over and walked over to him, tapping lightly on the counter with a fingernail next to his hand to gain his attention.
“Kline.” He looked up, but his eyes weren’t focused on me. “What are you doing here?”
“Handing in my cuffs.”
“Right, right.” He still wasn’t really paying attention to me.
“What’s wrong?”
Niles folded the piece of paper he’d been reading and finally met my eyes. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Niles?”
He took a moment to stare at me, steel-gray eyes that penetrated mine, the same stare he’d given me in training when I had ruffled his feathers.
I doubted he’d be exactly thrilled about my suspension, but there was an edge to his stare that pricked the hairs on the back of my neck, and I resisted the urge to rub my hand over them.
“How well did you know Karolina Torres?”
My back stiffened, and I glanced at the front door.
I didn’t want to be having this conversation, I had more important things to worry about.
“We’d passed each other in the precinct, but I never worked with her.
We had some… disagreements.” Something clicked in my mind, and I eyed him suspiciously before realization dawned.
“Wait, what do you mean did I know her?”
Niles threw a glance over my head at the officer at the counter. “Torres killed herself early this morning.”
My throat constricted, and I fought the urge to cough or, even better, bend over and dry heave. This was too much.
No coincidences.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I know what you’re thinking, and no, just no, Kline. Unlike Kim, she left a note.”
I eyed the paper in his hand, which crumpled under his grip, his hand covered in a latex glove. Why would he use a glove to handle a suicide note? Unless… “You suspect something, don’t you, sir?”
“Kline—”
“Was her bank account drained?” He didn’t answer, but looking at his face, he didn’t need to. “Let me see the note.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me snatch it from you and get my fingerprints on it, Lute, I’m in enough trouble as it is.
” Lute instead of Lieutenant, I didn’t use the abbreviation often, and never in front of others lest he be accused of some sort of favoritism simply because no one else had the balls to give him a nickname.
But his eyes softened when he looked at me before darting around again.
“Fine, but don’t fucking touch it.”
He flicked it open, and I had to grip my T-shirt to stop myself from snatching it from him, practically inhaling it as I tried to get closer.
I didn’t know what Karolina’s handwriting looked like, I’d only ever seen her signature.
Was this normal for her? This messy scrawl, dotted with what I can only assume were tears.
This felt all wrong, dread already creeping down my back as I read the note.
I’m sorry.
Mom, I love you. Please forgive me.
I should have seen Kim’s state of mind. I should have been able to save him.
I’ve done nothing worthwhile, and my life will be reduced to evidence in a box. Don’t even open the box. Just leave it, and me be, to die in piece.
Goodbye.
Niles snatched it away, sliding it into an evidence bag before pulling off the gloves. He wasn’t looking at me, and thoughts were swirling wildly through my mind.
Evidence in a box.
No coincidences.
Karolina and I had only yesterday fought in the evidence locker immediately after she checked out a box, then she had made some crack about my father.
Don’t even open the box.
It was a warning, and if that wasn’t obvious enough.
To die in piece.
No way she’d make that mistake, piece instead of peace?
It was a warning.
I swallowed. “How did she die?”
“Cut her wrists in the bath.”
“Lute, please. There are clues in that note. She was warning me, and why would she warn me unless I was looking into something I shouldn’t? Which means I was right, my father, Officer Kim, and now Torres—”
“Nikki.” I stared at him. He hadn’t used my first name since… ever. His face was drained of color, and he whispered, “You need to let this all go. Just get on with your life.”
My eyes searched his, and the pain I found there killed me. Niles turned away, telling me to go, relax a bit on my weeks off, try to reset, and get back to a good place. All those stock standard things you tell people when they have time off work, forced or otherwise.
“Lute… Niles,” I pleaded with him. “Please. Please just consider—”
“I can’t.”
“Niles?”
“You don’t understand, Nikki. Please, you need to let it go.”
I watched as he walked away, but he didn’t look back, and eventually, I had to leave the station before I caught the unwanted attention of Burke.
There were dirty cops. This wasn’t news to me.
But Niles? Surely not.
The pain in his eyes told me he knew what I wanted so desperately to know, but he either wouldn’t or couldn’t tell me.
Who the hell was I dealing with here?