Beg for Mercy (20 page)

Another man followed, and it didn’t take years as a detective to recognize that the navy pinstriped suit and expensively trimmed graying hair spelled
lawyer
. “Ms. Flynn, I’m Michael Levin. Mr. Brewster called me on your behalf.”

Megan nodded and murmured her thanks.

Brewster? The tool from the coffee place?

“I’ll see you in my office, Detective,” ce snapped, and closed the interrogation room door in his face.

Sure enough, as Cole crossed the bull pen on the way to Lieutenant Chin’s office, he spotted Nate Brewster in his Ken-doll, all-American glory, cooling his heels in the waiting area. The knife twisted in Cole’s gut. He shouldn’t care—should be relieved, even—that Megan’s moneyed, wannabe boyfriend had come to her rescue.

Yet the very idea of Megan counting on any man but Cole for help stuck in his throat like a giant uncoated aspirin.

Unfortunately, Nate spotted him too. “Detective,” Nate called, standing and waving a big hand to get his attention. “Nate Brewster, we met the other day.”

As though Cole could forget the man he’d caught drooling over Megan. Once again the man was dressed
like he was fresh from the country club, a heavy platinum watch gleaming on his thick wrist.

“I remember,” Cole said, accepting the handshake. He imagined a lot of people found Nate’s smile charming. Cole was hard-pressed not to shove his fist into it. “Nice watch,” Cole said, gesturing to the piece that probably cost enough to feed a third world nation for a month.

“Thanks.” Nate’s smile was a flash of blinding white. “I got it as a present for myself last year when my business grew three hundred percent.”

“Really? What business is that?”

“Computers—nerd stuff,” Nate said in a way that told Cole he didn’t expect a meathead cop to be able to grasp it. “Have you seen Megan? How is she?” The smile was gone, replaced by a look of deep concern.

“She’s okay. The lawyer’s in there with her now.”

“We got here as soon as we could. I couldn’t believe it when she called me for help. Breaking and entering? What was she thinking?”

“She wasn’t,” Cole said flatly. “There’s a lot of that going around today. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Nate nodded and said good-bye with a quick wave, and then sat back, his too-handsome face pulled into a mask of concern. Wealthy Prince Charming ready to use his money to dig his damsel in distress out of her hole.

Cole went to Chin’s office, sank into a leather armchair, and waited to find out if he still had a badge.

B
y the time Nate led her from the station and tucked her into the passenger seat of his BMW, it was after ten. It had taken several hours to work everything out, but Lieutenant Chin finally conceded that it was better not to press charges than tell the public that their detective had leaked key information in a high-profile investigation.

In exchange, Megan told them everything she’d discovered about Bianca—her work as a prostitute, the restaurant she’d frequented, her donation to the mission, and the probability th said flahe had a roommate named Stephanie who’d left very little evidence of her existence at the shared house.

The only pieces of information she held back were the napkin she found from Club One and the picture from the Web site. It wasn’t a big deal, she told herself, since the police were likely to find it themselves when they searched the house. Megan wanted to look at the Web site, and more importantly, she wanted to get to Club One before the cops. She was afraid the staff and patrons would likely clam up once the police started nosing around.

She flipped on her cell phone and saw Devany’s number come up in the missed calls list. She’d called three times in the last fifteen minutes.

Dev answered on the first ring. “Where have you been?” Dev’s harsh whisper was all teenage indignation.

Megan forced back a snappy retort. “I had my phone off. Do you need me for something?”

“I need a ride,” Dev said, again in a whisper.

“It’s almost eleven on a school night.”

Megan could hear muffled music and voices in the background.

“Don’t give me a hard time, okay? You always said you’d come get me if I needed you to, and tonight I really need you to.”

“Where are you?”

Megan winced when Devany gave her the address, not too far from Mission St. Jude. Not a place for a fourteen-year-old girl alone at night. “Hang on.” She covered the mouthpiece and turned to Nate. “I hate to ask you this, but I need another huge favor.”

Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of a low-rise apartment building. A small crowd milled out front, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. Megan spotted about half a dozen girls around Dev’s age, along with a bunch of guys who looked several years older. She dialed Dev’s number, squirming in her seat as a few of the guys approached Nate’s car. She wondered if, on top of everything, they were going to get carjacked. The guys stayed back but kept a wary eye on their car. “We’re here.”

Dev appeared at the front of the complex in seconds. Megan waved her over. Nate clicked the lock and Dev dove into the backseat in a cloud of Everclear punch and pot smoke.

“Can we go, please? I want to get out of here before Davos realizes I left.”

“And you’re welcome for the ride,” Megan snapped. “Dev, this is Nate. The man nice enough to come to this lovely part of town to pick you up. Maybe you could at least say hi.”

“Hi, and thank you for the ride,” Dev said, her kohl-rimmed eyes rolling, red mouth sullen. She slumped back in the seat.

After several blocks, it became clear she wasn’t about to offer any explanation.

“So, you want to tell me what the hell you were doing there?”

“My friend’s boyfriend knew about this party, so I decided to go.”

“I thought you were still grounded.”

“Aunt Kathy had to go back to work tonight, and I started freaking out by myself, okay?”

“You should have called someone—”

“I did call someone. I called you, and you weren’t around.”

Because she was too busy breaking and entering, Megan thought with a stab of guilt. “I’m sorry about that. I got hung up.”

“I can see why.” In a flash, Dev went from brat to flirt. “He’s cute. Cuter than that cop.”

Megan rolled her eyes but didn’t contradict her. “So what happened at the party?”

“It just got a little weird, and my friend didn’t want to leave.”

“Who’s Davos?” Nate asked.

“A guy at the party, not that it’s your business.”

“I’m your ride. I think that makes it my business.”

Megan could hear the thread of irritation in Nate’s voice.

“Sorry,” Dev mumbled. “He’s this guy I’ve seen around. Usually he’s okay, but tonight he was on Molly—a bunch of people were.”

Megan’s stomach clenched. “Please tell me you didn’t take any.” Molly was Ecstasy cut with coke, or occasionally heroin.

“I’m not an idiot. But Davos was getting all amped up and grabby—everyone was—and I kind of freaked out and hid in the closet.”

“I’m glad you called,” Megan said, meaning it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t around earlier.”

“Me too.”

They were silent as Nate pulled the car into the trailer park entrance. Megan directed him to Dev’s dark trailer. Nate parked, got out, and opened Megan’s and Dev’s doors. “It doesn’t look like your aunt is home. Do you want us to stay with you?”

Exhausted as she was, Megan was touched by Nate’s consideration.

Dev shook her head. “Kathy will be home soon. I’m just going to crash.”

They followed Dev up the short steps and waited as she turned on all the lights in the trailer. Megan told her good night, but Dev stopped her as she turned to go. “I almost forgot to tell you—my mom called today. She’s getting out early.” Dev tried to say it casually, but Megan knew she had to be freaking out. That news, as much of being scared, had sent Dev out into the city to blow off some steam.

“I’ll set up a meeting with Rhonda tomorrow, okay?” Megan knew Dev’s case worker would recommend Dev
stay with Kathy. Megan hoped that was enough to convince the judge this time.

“Thanks,” Dev said, and flashed them both a shy smile, “for everything.”

“Here we are.”

Megan lifted her head from where it rested against the cool glass of the window as Nate walked around to open her door. “How are you holding up?” he asked.

Megan nodded. After brushing off her effusive thanks and dishing out a couple of “what were you thinkings,” Nate was mercifully silent, seeming to appreciate that after nearly three hours of nonstop questioning, Megan wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk.

Especially not about what was really bothering her. Yeah, the arrest was traumatic, and the thought that a record would prevent her from continuing her volunteer work was devastating, but it was nothing compared to what she’d done to Cole.

She closed her eyes, but she couldn’t erase the memory of him as he confronted her in the interrogation room. Anger, betrayal, self-recrimination at his own stupidity in trusting her. She had very likely ruined his career.

She tried to tell herself that any collateral damage was justified if it helped Sean, but that didn’t stop her from feeling like something scraped off someone’s shoe.

Somehow she’d make it up to him, but hell if she knew how. At the very least she’d let him in on her Club One lead. Who knew, maybe if he was able to unearth new
information relevant to the investigation, they’d let him back on the task force.

That assumes he hasn’t been suspended, or worse, fired.
Another twist of guilt.

She walked up the creaky wooden stairs to her apartment and tried to tell herself that she was only disappointed because if he was thrown off the case, she would lose her source of information.

Deep down, she knew that wasn’t true. If one thing had become clear in the past couple of days, it was that no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that everything she’d ever felt for Cole had mutated into hatred, on some level she still cared about him.

Deeply.

Like a genetic defect that had been injected into her DNA, Cole was part of her now, and damned if she knew how to get him out.

She pulled out her key as she reached the top step, fumbling a little in the dark. She made a mental note to replace the bulb in the motion-sensitive light above her door, which had burned out over a month ago. It hadn’t really bothered her up until now, but with everything that had happened in the last few days, the dark had taken on an added hint of danger.

She shivered a little, glad to have Nate’s large bulk behind her. Her gratitude gave way to a gasp of fear as a tall figure emerged from the shadows. Nate shoved her behind him just as the man called out Megan’s name.

“Megan, it’s cool! It’s just me, Jimmy!”

“Jimmy?” Megan unlocked the door and flipped on the outside light from the inside. Sure enough, there was Jimmy Caparulo, his dark hair clipped close to his skull.
Though his face had the same intensity as the last time she’d seen him, at first glance he looked sober. His dark eyes were focused, and there was no scent of booze clinging to him. His face had filled out a little, too, his bold Italian features still sharp but not gaunt like the last time she’d seen him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I know you don’t want to talk to me, but it’s important.”

“This isn’t a good time,” Megan said, and started to step around him.

Jimmy reached for her, and Megan shrank away, flashing back to that night at Sean’s, remembering how awful it had felt to be pinned against the wall, terrified someone she’d always trusted was about to hurt her. But tonight Jimmy took the hint and backed off. As Megan’s shock faded, she realized Jimmy’s presence was a stroke of luck. She loaded Bianca’s image on her phone screen. “I’m actually glad you’re here.” She held the phone out to Jimmy. “Do you recognize this girl? Do you ever remember seeing her at Club One?” It was a long shot, she knew. Jimmy had quit his job at the club after Evangeline’s murder, and it wasn’t likely Bianca was hanging out at the club three years ago.

A muscled arm hooked Jimmy around the neck.