I thought about his humor. About his compassion.
I drove on auto-pilot, my thoughts churning wildly, and it wasn't until my dad's music was looping for the fourth time that I tuned in to where I was--which was no longer in Illinois. I'd not only crossed the line into Wisconsin, but had just hit the Kenosha city limits.
I may have been on auto-pilot, but my subconscious had definitely had a plan all along.
I'd only been to the Victorian style house on Fifth Street once before, but it wasn't any trouble finding it. The lawn had been a mess the last time I was there, but now it was neat and tidy, with colorful flowers in pretty clay pots. The dingy paint had been spruced up, at least on the street-facing side. I saw buckets and two ladders around the side of the house, and assumed I was facing a work-in-progress.
I pulled up in front, killed the engine, and sat there for a while, debating. I could go in ... or I could turn around and drive the hour and a half back to Chicago.
I decided to go in.
The house was quiet, and I saw no sign of life as I walked to the front door. I wasn't sure if I should be annoyed I'd come so far for no reason, or relieved.
I rang the bell, got no immediate response, and rang again. A good three minutes passed, still with no answer, and I finally decided that all I'd gotten out of this day was a relaxing drive and too much thinking.
I turned to go--and heard the lock click behind me.
I turned around, and found myself staring into the hangdog face of Oscar Hernandez.
He wore a coffee-stained undershirt and flannel pajama pants that had seen better days. Sleep creases lined his face, criss-crossing under his puffy eyes.
"Gee, Lieutenant," I said. "You're taking this retirement thing seriously."
"Watson?" His red eyes crinkled in delight as a wide smile split his face. "Goddammit, Detective, what in the name of the devil's younger daughter are you doing here?"
"Guess I got a little lost."
He cocked his head, and I saw the sharp mind behind the bloodshot eyes. "You're not talking about streets and maps."
"Guess not." I lifted a shoulder. "Needed a beer. Figured this was the place to find one."
"Damn right it is," he said. "Or it was last night. Wife's back home with Joey," he said, referring to their oldest daughter. "Had some of the guys over."
"A calm night of cigars and literary discussions?"
"Fuck that. We got pissed and talked about our misspent youth. Get your tiny ass in here," he said, stepping back and holding the door open wide.
I followed him into the kitchen, then hung back as he opened the fridge and stared inside. "I got Heineken and Heineken. Might have some flavored vodka in the freezer. Wife likes that whipped cream stuff."
"I'll take Heineken," I said. "And if you've got a bag of potato chips hiding around here somewhere, I'll love you forever."
"After what we've been through, you should love me anyway." But he crossed to the pantry and came out with a bag of Lay's and a bag of Ruffles.
"You're a good man, Lieutenant."
"Don't you forget it."
Fifteen minutes later we were sitting on the back porch steps, breathing in the summer air and looking out at the water. I'd never seen my partner as the Mr. Fix-it type, but I had to admit that for a house like this--big and sprawling with a huge backyard, trees, and a view of the lake--maybe being domesticated would be worth it.
"You gonna tell me what's on your mind? Cause as much as I enjoy your company, I don't think you drove all this way just for beer and chips."
"It's really good beer," I said, and clinked bottles with him. "But no. Honestly, I'm not sure why I came. The car sort of drove itself."
"All the way from Indiana? You must really be going out of your mind on this medical leave."
"Chicago," I said, and that was as good a lead-in as any. I gave him the basic rundown, leaving out the more titillating details. If we ended up going there, I'd need more than one beer in my system.
"Last time I looked, kid, you didn't have a Chicago badge."
I eyed him sideways. "So?"
"So whatever these guys are up to doesn't have anything to do with finding your missing friend, right?"
"Right."
"And the girl was the reason you went to Chicago."
"Yes."
"So leave it alone."
I blinked. "Leave it alone?"
"Jesus, Watson, you live and breathe this job more than anyone I know. You don't have to right every wrong, you know. So unless those guys are killing folks in Indiana, their crimes and misdemeanors aren't your problem."
"Even if I'm banging one of them?"
He drew in a loud, noisy breath. "Well, shit, Watson. Now I'm gonna have that in my head all day."
I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. "I'm all twisted up, Oscar."
"Aw, shit. Aw, hell." His big hand came down on my back and rubbed. "You'll get untwisted."
"How?"
"No idea."
I laughed. "You're a big help."
"Okay, try this. The heart knows what the heart knows."
I turned to him. "That's some flowery shit coming from you."
"Courtesy of the wife. It's what she used to tell me whenever Joey dragged home some yahoo I didn't like the looks of. Like the idiot banker who followed her home one day like some determined puppy."
"What's it mean?"
"I think it means if you fall, you're fucked. So you might as well enjoy yourself."
"You know, that's not bad advice, actually."
"That's me, always dispensing the knowledge. You want to hang around? Meredith'll be home in time for dinner."
"Nah. I should get back. But thanks." I stood up, then considered him. "What happened with the idiot banker?"
"Turned out not to be such an idiot after all. Gave me three of the most precious grandkids on the planet." He stood, too, then walked me around the house to my car. "You take care of that hip. And if this guys sticks, you bring him around. If there's a man out there can trip you up, I want to meet him."
Chapter Twenty-Four
I didn't go to The Drake when I got back to Chicago. Instead, I went to my tiny apartment. I wanted time to think. To be alone. To let all the pieces come together in my head. What I knew. What I wanted.
And how there was no way over, around, or under the giant impasse that was cop versus criminal.
Even if Hernandez was right and I didn't need to be slapping on the cuffs or ratting the guys out to Kevin, that didn't change the fundamental nature of the problem--I'd fallen for a man I couldn't have.
I wanted time alone.
I should have known that was too much to ask.
I opened my door, and found myself staring at Tyler, standing in my tiny kitchen brewing coffee, looking nine kinds of sexy in a white button-down and jeans.
"You broke in?" I said. "Well, why not? Just another crime to add to the list."
"A minor one, all things considered." His voice was smooth and held a hint of humor. I knew him well enough to know he was trying to keep a lid on my temper.
I wasn't entirely sure it was going to work.
"I thought Cole was the one with the lock-picking skills."
"No, I said it was one of Cole's two skills. I don't believe I discussed my many and varied skills at all." He held up a mug. "Coffee is on the list."
"Why are you here?" I asked wearily. I moved to the bed and sat on the edge, exhausted. I wanted to be angry, truly I did. I wanted to yell and rant and scream and rave. But I was just too damn tired and sad.
"Cole told me what happened."
"Yeah, I kind of guessed that."
"I never lied to you," he said.
I exhaled. "No," I said, "you didn't. Skirted around the truth, but never lied. And I never looked. I was like one of those monkeys with their hands over their eyes, their mouth, and their ears. I only saw what I wanted to see."
"You were only really look
ing at Destiny," he said. "And it's scrubbed clean. Evan insisted on that if he was going to remain a partner."
I shook my head. "No. It wasn't Destiny I was looking at." I drew in a breath. "It was you. You filled my vision. Larger than life. Bold and sexy and exciting, and I lost myself in the shine. And now I'm afraid that I see you way too clearly."
"So now you're punishing me because I am what you thought I was all along?"
"Don't," I said, and now the temper was rising. "Don't play games. Not now. Not with this. I'm a cop, and you know it. Maybe I've been living in a fantasy with you, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm sworn to uphold the law."
"You became a cop to punish yourself, Sloane. You made a cage out of the rules and the laws. But you don't have to do that. You don't need to be punished. Justice won that night, I promise you."
I shook my head. "No. This isn't about Harvey Grier--it's not," I said, though he had raised no protest. "It's important to me, those rules, those codes. It's my life."
"And if I wanted you to be my life?"
His words, said so simply and plainly, were nothing more than a sucker punch. And I had to work not to shake. Not to cry out. Not to shout for him to please not say that again, because just the mere idea of it was too damn tempting--and I couldn't afford to be tempted.
Slowly, when I thought I could manage it, I shook my head. "We both know that's never going to happen." I felt the tears behind my eyes, and as I sat with ramrod posture, I kept my eyes wide open, determined not to cry.
He stood by the sink, his eyes firmly on my face. "I have never wanted a woman the way I want you," he said, his voice so full of promise and raw emotion that it almost broke me. "And I've never let a woman see into my cracks the way I have you. I understand your hesitations. I respect them. But know this. I'm damn well going to push against them."
I ran my fingers through my hair. "I'm tired. And I'm confused. I want to be with you, but I don't know how. I told you. This is the chasm, and I don't see a way across. I mean, Christ, Tyler. You're running an extortion scheme."
"No," he said. "Not extortion. Those tapes weren't for money, but for protection."
"What do you mean?"
"You might be surprised to know that not all politicians are fine, upstanding citizens. As it happens, the newly elected Alderman Bentley used to be a cog in a wheel that the guys and I ran."
"The kind of wheel that I'd disapprove of?"
He hesitated only a second, then said flatly, "A money laundering scheme. Bentley was right in the thick of it. And that means he knows too much about our operation. And now that he's an elected official, he may be inclined to try to use that information to gain pull."
"Use it and he exposes himself."
"Maybe. But it might be worth it to him."
"But it wouldn't be worth it if those pictures got out," I said.
"That's the plan. He stays quiet, the pictures are never released."
"That doesn't make it any less illegal."
Tyler shrugged. "Not really my main concern."
"What is?"
"Lately? Lately, it's you."
"Tyler ..." I felt like a hand was squeezing tight around my heart.
"It's true. It's why I'm here running off at the mouth. Do you know how much I'm risking letting it out in the open? Because when you get right down to it, what I've told you could destroy us. And I've never been so careless before."
"Why now?" I asked, both dreading and craving the answer.
"Because I'm an idiot," he said. "I'm an idiot for falling in love with a cop."
"Tyler." Just one word, but it was full of passion and apology and, yes, love.
He moved from the kitchen to kneel in front of me. "This is more than a game to me, Sloane. And you're more than just a prize. I want a woman who burns with me. Who melts into me. Who fits into all my hollow places. That's you, Sloane. Do you see that? Do you know it? You're my everything. You're my whole world."
I swallowed, overwhelmed with emotions--confusion, fear, love.
He rose up and brought his mouth to mine, his kiss both possessive and tender.
"I told you once I want no secrets between us," he said, as he trailed his fingers up and down my arm. "I meant it. I want to tell you everything. I won't bore you with a laundry list, but if you have questions, just ask."
I had so many, but I didn't know where to begin, or even if I wanted to ask them all. "You said Destiny was clean. But it wasn't always, was it?"
"No," he said.
"And it is now because of Evan. He gave it up for Angie, didn't he? Because what he does could damage her father."
"Yes. And I think the thrill was fading. He likes business, plain and simple. I like taking a different approach."
"Could you do that, though?" I asked, realizing how much hope was lacing my voice. "Could you give it up?"
He was silent so long I thought he wasn't going to answer. When he did, it wasn't the response I'd expected. "Could you give up being a cop?"
"It's not the same. I'm enforcing the law. You're twisting it around to your liking. And you can't do that. You can't push the envelope and not expect to pay." I licked my lips. "That's the crux of it. I love you, too, Tyler. Desperately. It amazes me because it's hit me so hard and so fast. But it's true." I sighed. "Even so, it's not enough, because I don't know how to get past this."
"Then we don't get past it," he said. "Not yet. We've been living in a bubble, sweetheart. Let's stay in it for just a little longer."
I drew in a breath and considered. I only had a few more days before I had to report back, anyway. And the truth was, I would do anything for a few more days with this man.
"All right," I said as I glanced around my crappy apartment. "But can we stay at The Drake?"
Chapter Twenty-Five
The condo that Angie and Evan shared was about the most amazing place I'd ever seen. It was huge, and one side of the living room was made up of a wall of windows that looked out over Lake Michigan, and the boats lit up on the water at night made it look like there were stars both below and above us.
"It was my uncle's," Angie explained. "I inherited it. And since Evan loves the place as much as I do, we mostly live here."
They had invited Tyler and me over for drinks, along with Cole and Kat. Kat had arrived before us, so I got a good look at her face when Cole entered. Attraction, fascination, and then--when Cole told Angie that someone named Bree wouldn't be joining him--disappointment.
I liked Cole--he had a straightforward manner that I appreciated, and a deep-seated passion that I admired. I'd seen some of his art, and had been shocked by its beauty and power, the imagery in contrast somehow to the burly man with the dragon tattoo. I thought also of what I knew about Cole and Michelle and the dungeon. And then I said a little prayer for Kat. But whether it was for her to figure a way into a complicated man like Cole, or for her to just move on, I really didn't know.
"Got any beer, Dragonbait?" Cole asked Angie.
"You know we do. Help yourself."
He paused by me on the way to the kitchen. "I'm glad you and Tyler got clear," he said. And then he surprised me by pulling me into a quick, tight hug.
While Cole went to the kitchen, the rest of us followed Evan and Angie through a living room filled with art, most in the kind of frames that each had their own spotlight.
One piece, however, stood out. It was a handmade quilt, framed and hung just off the living room in an adjoining hallway. "Isn't that like Tyler's quilt?"
"The same woman gave them to all three of the guys," Angie said.
I glanced curiously at Tyler. "Really? How interesting."
Kat snorted, but Tyler only rolled his eyes. "Mind out of the gutter, Detective. They were handmade by the grandmother of the very first girl we pulled out of the trafficking scheme."
"They're very special," Evan added.
"They are," I agreed. "You touched a lot of lives."
Evan turned to Angie. "Wh
y don't you girls head up to the patio. We'll bring the drinks up."
The patio turned out to be a massive outdoor living area on the roof of the high-rise. Angie and I sat on two of the plush outdoor sofas, and Kat plunked herself down on the ground. "I thought you were running a con," Kat said to me. "When I first saw you, I mean."
"A con?"
She shrugged. "I knew the guys were keeping an eye on you, and I couldn't figure out why. I didn't know you were a cop, so I figured you were trying to scam them. I couldn't believe that anyone would be stupid enough to think they could pull a con on those three and get away with it. Trust me, I know."
"Yeah? How?"
"Well, not personally," Kat amended. "My dad did a real estate deal with Tyler years ago, but I wasn't involved. I got to hear about it from Dad's end, though." She grinned. "That's how I know you don't play mind games with Tyler Sharp."
"He took your dad?"
"Let's just say he didn't let my dad take him."
"That sounds like Tyler," I said, and couldn't help but wonder which side of the line Kat's father fell on.
The guys were back soon with the drinks, and the evening fell into an easy rhythm. They talked about work and various projects, all of which sounded legitimate, and it occurred to me to wonder just how much Kat knew about what these men did.
As for Kat and Angie, they asked me all sorts of questions about being a cop and about stripping at Destiny. I had to admit, it made for an interesting mix of topics.
I was on my second glass of wine when Kat stood up and said she had to go. "Work," she said, then pulled a face. "There really needs to be an easier way to make a living."
She headed out, and Angie and I moved to the glass barrier that shielded the patio from the abyss below. "He's gone on you," Angie said, as soon as we were out of earshot of the men.
"It's mutual," I said. "But it doesn't matter. Our lives just don't intersect, you know? And I'll be back in Indiana by the end of the week."
"Maybe it'll work out," she said. "I didn't think it would for Evan and me, but here we are."
I shifted to look at her better. "Can I ask you something? I know your dad's a senator," I began after she nodded. "And I know the guys are into a few things that are less than legitimate."
She cocked her head. "You figure?"
"Tyler told me," I said.
"Oh." Her eyes widened. "Well, that is interesting."
I grinned wryly. "Yeah, well. I imagine Evan's clean. What with your dad being who he is. Am I right?"