Fallen (31 page)

“
To see me
.” She arched a dubious eyebrow. “And not because this dive is your favorite hangout.”

With a faint chuckle, Adam lifted his palms in surrender. “Maybe I
will
go for some of that absolution? If it’s still on the table?”

She smiled finally and flipped her long hair behind her.

“Since when do you tend bar, anyway?” he asked.

“Since I got back into town yesterday. I went to visit family. I’ve been asking to get moved off the floor, and one of the regulars quit, so Frank’s trying me out. He needs all hands on deck tonight. I’ll be back with your Heineken, but we’re busy, so it might take a minute.”

She moved on to other customers. Adam looked around, recognizing some of the usual crowd, but they were few and far between in the sea of new faces. He was aware that a uniformed officer being off tonight was tantamount to winning the lottery, since the Fourth was one of the rowdiest holidays. He snacked on pistachios that sat in a dish until Molly returned with his beer. “Thanks.”

“So you
do
plan on calling me?” she asked, obviously enjoying herself.

Adam gave an affirmative nod. “Absolutely.”

“Go easy on the extra shifts. You know what they say about all work and no play.” With a suggestive wink, Molly ran her hand up his arm. “Hey, where’s your brother tonight?”

“Beats me.” He tipped the bottle to his lips and swallowed. “You know, you’re always asking about Ryan, Mol. Sure you wouldn’t just rather have him call you?”

Frank yelled to her from the other side of the bar. He indicated two customers waiting to be served. She rolled her eyes. “Duty calls.”

Adam watched as she went back to taking drink orders. Someone in the tightly packed space jostled him from behind. Deciding to take his beer elsewhere, he swiveled the stool around and stood. Seth Kimmel leaned against the adjacent brick wall, watching him with flinty eyes. Apparently, he wasn’t the only cop off duty tonight. Adam recalled Ryan’s altercation with him the night of Nate Weisz’s wake, as well as the reason for it. Molly. He gave the other man a cool nod of indifference and walked to one of the alcoves where a flat-screen television was blaring ESPN. The seats were full, however, so he remained standing.

It didn’t take long for Seth to follow him over. He wore jeans and a T-shirt stamped with the logo of a local gym.

“Well, if it isn’t the
other
Winter,” he said mockingly. “What I want to know is whether you’re as full of yourself as your brother.”

Adam gave a casual shrug, although his eyes narrowed. “One thing’s for damn sure—I don’t have his patience.”

“Word of advice?” He nodded to where Molly worked behind the bar. “You’re not the only one sticking it into that. Better
wrap it up good
, son.”

Adam bristled. So this
was
about Molly again. Seth was jealous. It was common knowledge she’d repeatedly refused his attentions. Still, he kept hanging around her like a hungry dog. It was downright creepy.

“Where I stick
anything
is none of your business. And don’t talk about her like that, all right?”

Seth let out a derisive snort, the smell of liquor emanating from him. “Listen to you. She’s a goddamn badge bunny, and you Winters act like she’s some fair virgin to protect.”

Adam’s voice lowered in warning. “I’ve got no beef with you, Kimmel. Back off. Before I back you off.”

“You think so?” Eyebrows clamped down, Seth leaned into his personal space. “Your brother—the big-fucking-deal detective—had his cronies around the night he got the better of me. But look around. There’s a different crowd tonight.”

Adam felt the muscles cord in his neck as his tolerance slipped another degree. He didn’t want to take up Ryan’s fight, but he wasn’t going to put up with much more bullshit, either. This guy might be a juicehead, but he wasn’t the only one in sparring shape. Not to mention, he appeared halfway to hammered.

Adam stepped so close their noses nearly touched.

“You’re not dealing with a detective this time,” he pointed out, shoulders rigid. “I’m on the streets like you.
I play rough
. Eight months in counternarcotics in Costa Rica put me up against some of the toughest sons of bitches anywhere. But if you still want to be stupid and take me on, we do it somewhere else.”

Seth crowed, “That’s what I figured—”

“
Don’t
misunderstand me.” Adam’s words hardened. “Not here in Frank’s place. But I’ll go out back to the alley with you right now. And you’ve got my promise you won’t be the one walking out of it.” He let a purposeful beat of silence fall. “You in or not, big guy?”

A second of doubt flickered on Seth’s blunt-featured face. He gave an inebriated wobble.

Adam shook his head. “Jesus. You’re shit-faced, Kimmel. It wouldn’t even be a fair fight. Go home before you embarrass yourself.”

Seth’s skin reddened as he glared at him. But even with the booze and steroids, he still had a few working brain cells, apparently. He tapped a finger into Adam’s chest. “You know what? It’s the birthday of our country. I feel like celebrating tonight. But I’ll deal with you later, asshole. And that’s a
promise
.”

With a last, meaningful scowl, he scrubbed a hand over his blond crew cut and retreated into the crowd.

Adam took a jerky pull from his beer bottle. It was true what their mother had told Ryan and him growing up, that bullies were all cowards at heart. Still, the exchange had his nerves crackling.

A short time later, he’d gone into the bricked corridor that led to the restrooms when he heard Molly speak to him. Adam stopped and turned. “Hey.”

Reaching into her apron pocket as she approached, she pulled out his cell phone. “You left this on the bar.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Who’s Rachel?” she asked with a frown.

Adam felt heat sweep over his face. Rachel was the girl he’d recently started going out with—three times now in the space of a week. He liked her. A lot, actually, and it seemed like she was into him, too. In fact, the only reason he wasn’t with her tonight was that she’d planned a trip months ago with some girlfriends to Hilton Head for the July Fourth weekend.

“Just a girl,” he said with a dismissive shrug.

She lit up the phone’s screen before handing it to him, accusation in her eyes. Adam glanced at the text, his flush deepening.

FELL ASLEEP ON BEACH & HAD SEXY DREAM ABOUT U.

REENACT IT WHEN I GET BACK? ;-)

MISS U.

Rachel had attached a photo of herself in a bikini.

“You’ve got a girlfriend,” Molly said in a flat tone.

Adam’s chin dipped downward. He rubbed the back of his neck, displeased she’d been peeping at his phone. “It’s nothing serious—”

“It
sounds
serious,” she said snippily. “You made up that stuff about working extra shifts because you’ve been avoiding me. I don’t like being lied to, Adam.”

Annoyance filtered through him. He didn’t think he owed Molly an explanation. They had never even been on a date. He’d simply done Ryan a favor by seeing her home that night. Sure, they’d kissed and engaged in some heavy petting before he’d come to his senses, disentangled himself and called it a night. He
had
promised to call her, but then Rachel had finally come around.

“Look, I don’t owe you anything just because we messed around. I didn’t plan it this way, but I just started seeing someone, all right?” His words came out more sharply than he’d intended.

She gave him a hurt look and retreated to the kitchen, pushing through the double doors marked Staff Only.
Great.
Feeling ambushed, Adam dragged a hand over his mouth. This was turning out to be a real waste of a night off.

Returning to the main area, he noticed Seth closing out his tab at the bar. Adam hung back until he was done, although he caught the man’s lethal glare as he stood and shoved his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. Then Seth used his index finger and thumb to form the shape of a gun.

Pointing it at Adam, he cocked and fired, then strode out.

Shaking his head, Adam ordered another beer and took it to the back of the room, partially to give Seth time to clear out of the area before he exited, too. He’d already backed him down once, and with his current mood, the idea of pummeling him was becoming too big a temptation.

A short time later, he shouldered his way through the bar’s crowd to the vestibule. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, he was met by the bass beat of live music coming from Centennial Olympic Park, accompanied by the booming discharge of fireworks. The park had begun putting on a display that rivaled the one at Lenox Square across town, and he looked up to see colorful pinwheels overlapping as they spread out in the black velvet night. The muggy air smelled singed from the explosives, reminding him of combat. He was supposed to meet up with some buddies who were down at the festivities but decided to just go home.

He passed through the throngs before finally turning onto Fairlie Street several blocks down. The crowds had dissipated somewhat here, with only a handful of people walking around and a small group of young adults sitting on the steps of an old building under renovation, smoking cigarettes as they talked. Despite the police shield Adam carried in his back pocket, he ignored the bottle they shared tucked into a brown paper bag. They all looked up briefly at another explosive burst of light in the sky.

His Jeep sat in an alley behind some loft apartments. He parked there often—illegal, but one of the few perks of being a cop. A small decal on the windshield alerted meter readers that it belonged to one of their own. Entering the murky passage, he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans for his keys.

He halted at the scratch marring the driver-side door.
What the?
He felt a sudden chill of recognition.

Adam whirled.

The searing impact knocked him to the ground.

Dazed, clasping feebly at his shirt, he heard his own rasping breath and felt warm wetness on his fingers. His chest was on fire.
Help me.
But the cry remained trapped in his throat. A hooded male wearing jeans and sneakers stood inside the alley, gun raised and face in shadow. Overhead, the sky lit into pink as another rumble of fireworks echoed.

White-hot pain flattened Adam’s lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He tried to get up—get to the off-duty weapon he’d left in his Jeep—but his body managed only a weak flail. In his hazy vision, he saw the man moving toward him. He was tall and lanky, with pale skin and an angry, mauve slash for a mouth. Blond hair was visible under the hood.

Confusion mingled with the terror clawing at him.

It wasn’t a man.

Her features were sullen as she stood over him, the grim black nozzle of the gun’s silencer peering down. Pointing at him. Adam felt his world darkening. His heartbeat thrashed in his ears.

Three shots. Two up close and personal.

Her eyes glittered with tears. “You’re all alike.”

“Molly,” he managed in a hoarse whisper. “Please, don’t.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ryan rushed into
the crowded ER lobby with Lydia beside him. Fear weakening his limbs, he flinched inwardly at the police—some in uniform, some not—who were already gathering, talking in low tones under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Eyes turned toward them as they approached. He felt Lydia’s fingers slip into his.

This couldn’t be happening.

He forced himself to breathe as the group parted for them. Mateo came forward and clasped his shoulders in a firm grip. “He’s
alive
, Ryan. Focus on that. They were able to stabilize him enough for surgery.”

“How bad is it?” he asked, unable to suppress the quaver in his voice.

“We … don’t know yet. It was a single GSW to the chest.” Mateo hesitated, lines appearing in his face. “The paramedics think he might’ve been there for a while before he was discovered.”

The information felt like a punch to his throat. Lydia squeezed his hand harder.

“Was he conscious when he arrived?” she asked. When Mateo shook his head, she added, “I’ll go up and see what I can find out. Stay with him, all right?”

“Yeah.” Mateo nodded.

Ryan squeezed his eyes closed as Lydia put her arms around his neck and hugged him hard.

“I love you,” she whispered before walking briskly away.

Additional police were entering, and Ryan nodded, stone-faced, as more words of support were offered. Darnell Richardson and Antoine Clark, as well as several others he considered friends, were among the growing ranks. There were also many he didn’t know, officers most likely from Adam’s precinct. He saw his brother’s partner, his face strained, as he came into the lobby. Ryan concentrated on remaining stoic, on trying to keep his knees from giving out on him.

“Let’s get you up to the waiting room. Lydia will know where to find you,” Mateo said a short time later. He was already guiding him out of the flow of police and others inside the overcrowded ER. “Evie’s on her way as soon as the sitter gets to the house. She sends her love.”