The Good Daughter (14 page)

They walked to the sofa, side by side, for the first time with Chloe as the stronger.

S
OMETIME AFTER MIDNIGHT
, Vince pulled up in front of Leticia’s apartment, not surprised to see lights blazing inside. Tino’s son was like him: a night owl. Leticia worked swing shift at a nursing home while her mother kept Tino Junior. Maybe the kid had been trained to it; Leticia admitted that she’d often wake Tino Junior up to play with him for an hour or so when she got home most nights. That way he slept later, too.

Not a smart habit to form; she’d have problems once the boy started school. But Vince knew how few families led storybook lives. Leticia did the best she could with few resources and next to no help from the boy’s father.

Who was, of course, the reason Vince was here at this hour of the night. With a sigh, he knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Leticia asked.

“Vince.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she opened the door but stood in front of the gap, her son on her hip. Leticia Martinez had once been a pretty, bouncy girl, brown eyes filled with mischief and more than a little sensual allure.

She was still pretty, but she didn’t bounce. Life with Tino had worn her down. “Hi, Vince.”

“Leticia.” He nodded. “How are you?”

“Vee—” Tino Junior’s chubby cheeks dimpled.

“Hey, buddy.” Vince smiled back, gesturing toward the door and addressing his remarks to Leticia. “Gonna let me in or are we going to pretend Tino’s not here?”

Her head dropped. She stepped away. At that moment, Tino Junior launched himself toward Vince.

Vince caught him and tossed the boy over his head, enjoying a moment of pure pleasure as the child’s laughter rolled over him. He took a minute to engage in gentle horseplay, tickling the boy, swinging him around, then drawing him close for a hug.

As the little arms squeezed his neck, Vince knew a moment’s doubt about his course. If anything happened to this boy because he’d involved Tino…

Nothing would happen, he vowed. Tino had told Mike he’d found a guy Vince should talk to. If the guy checked out, Vince might have what he needed to drive the first nail into Moreno’s coffin. The first was the hardest; after that, things would tumble into place. He was so close he could smell it. Taste it.

And he was more than ready to finish this. He’d lost his hunger for vengeance, he realized.

Because he’d found something he wanted more.

Chloe.

But justice had to be served. Carlos had been murdered and his integrity questioned. If Vince didn’t clear him, or let the murderer go unpunished, it would be poor repayment for Carlos’s saving his life.

“Tino, get out here,” he commanded, suddenly eager to move on. With Tino’s son still tight against his chest, Vince watched his old friend saunter into the room, no trace of penitence in his gaze.

“Hey—” Tino’s shoulder lifted in nonchalance. “Whassup?”

Vince shook his head. “Let’s take it outside.” Though furious with the boy’s father, he gently pried Tino Junior from his embrace and handed him to Leticia. Without glancing back at Tino, he nodded to Leticia and walked out, assuming Tino would follow.

Knowing he’d drag him out by force if necessary.

Tino took just enough time to make sure Vince saw that he wasn’t cowed. Outside the doorway, he stopped, arms crossed over his chest.

“Want to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing?” Vince asked in a growl.

“I don’t answer to you, man. I’m all grown up, see?”

Vince merely stared at him. “Yeah. Looks like it.”

“Hey, it was only weed,” Tino protested. “A guy’s got a right to a little fun.”

Vince’s hand whipped out and grabbed Tino by the collar. “Not when you expect me to bail you out,
carnal.
” The emphasis on the last word made it clear to them both just how little brotherhood he felt. “I don’t need this, Tino. We’re in the big show now. Your bush-league antics won’t wash. You get your act together or forget having any help escaping them.”

Tino’s eyes flashed with rebellion and something that looked a lot like contempt, but it was gone so quickly
Vince might have imagined it. He jerked free of Vince’s hold. “You need me as cover for your vigilante act on Moreno, remember?”

Vince stiffened. “I’m no vigilante.”

“Then why you sneakin’ around?” Tino wasn’t the brightest guy, but he had a craftiness obviously honed in the joint. “See, way I figure it, you got just as much at stake in not ticking me off ’cause I can make some trouble for you if I talk around that maybe you be in places you not supposed to be. I don’t think you need more trouble right now, eh,
carnal?
”

Ice formed a ball in Vince’s gut. “You think you can play me, Tino?” He advanced on the younger man. “You care that little about your boy and Leticia that you’d screw around on both sides of the fence?”

“No, Vince—” Tino’s retreat was instant and insistent. “Hell, no. I—” He exhaled loudly and looked away, then back. “Listen, it’s been a lousy few days. I don’t like this undercover crap—Moreno’s boys make me nervous, you know?” Entreaty filled his voice. “You do this stuff all the time, but not me—I never did nothin’ like this before.” He raked both hands through his hair. “I just needed a little downtime, that’s all. The guy I was with didn’t make that cop. I never intended anything to happen.”

Vince was forcibly reminded of an aspect of Tino he’d managed to forget: Tino didn’t ever mean to do anything wrong, he’d swear with total belief to anyone who would listen. It was always lousy luck at fault, if not someone else. Never Tino. Obviously, prison hadn’t
changed everything about the man who had yet to outgrow irresponsibility.

He sighed. “It better not happen again. My stack of chips is about gone, and I can’t be wasting them on your mistakes.” He cuffed Tino gently on the shoulder. “Now, let’s forget it and move on. I want you to set up that meet.” After a few minutes of explanation and wrangling over logistics, Vince left. He glanced back as he slid into his car, seeing Tino’s silhouette against the porch light, his stance sagging.

Tino was his weak link. Vince was standing waist deep in quicksand, trying to climb out with the help of someone who would turn and run at the slightest provocation—but he didn’t have a lot of choices right now.

And though the cop in Vince understood that some people couldn’t be saved, a part of him that no one else knew had lived through some very rough times with Tino, times when he was just as scared as that little boy, only he couldn’t admit to it. He’d had to be strong for both of them, and he’d never let Tino see that having to scramble to keep them both fed and warm and safe had sometimes been all that had kept Vince from giving up. He and Tino were bound in an odd symbiosis, Vince the strong older brother and Tino the younger and weaker.

But without the need to keep up a front for Tino, Vince couldn’t be sure he would have held on long enough to meet Carlos Quintanilla. Actually, a shop-lifting expedition because Tino was sick had resulted in Vince’s getting caught by Carlos.

So though Tino owed Vince, Vince owed Tino, too. And for the sake of that bond, Vince had to try, lousy as the odds might be, to give Tino one more chance. To salvage him in the name of the man who’d tried to save both and managed to rescue only one.

But Vince was only too aware that the rope that was Tino was frayed and might not bear his weight long enough to get him to safe ground.

Vince thought of Chloe then.
I guess you don’t choose safety, do you?
she’d asked.

For the first time in his life, though, Vince realized that he had a reason to avoid dancing on the edge of danger.

C
HLOE WALKED DOWN
the hall to her office Monday morning after having seriously considered calling in sick. The weekend had been grueling emotionally; she was far from sure she had the resources left to do her job properly, and she had another appointment with Danielle late this afternoon at the shelter. It wasn’t likely to be an easy session.

But her sisters wouldn’t be found any sooner if she stayed home from work. Her father was going to use his influence and expected quick results. Unlike her, no one had taken pains to hide them.

Caroline and Ivy, he said their names were. Chloe tried to picture them. Would they be blond and tall like her? Would they have brown eyes?

Her heart twisted. Maybe they didn’t want to know her. Maybe it wasn’t how well she’d been hidden but
that they’d gone on with their lives, too busy for a baby sister.

“What’s up,
chère?
” Wanda asked. “You okay?”

Chloe stopped just inside the suite of offices. In-grained habit had her demurring, “I’m fine. How was your weekend?”

Wanda’s eyes rolled. “Lester’s decided he wants to make up. Says he’ll be my slave if I’ll take him back. Like I couldn’t find me a slave boy with a cute butt instead of his raggedy ass.”

Chloe burst out laughing, intensely grateful for the distraction. “Lester’s butt isn’t cute?” She couldn’t believe she was talking this way.

“It’s not so bad, but maybe I want fresh meat.” She winked. “You know—someone young I can train to please me.”

At that moment, Chloe remembered that she was in the presence of an expert, maybe lousy at picking men but far more experienced at dealing with them than Chloe would ever be. “Wanda—” She couldn’t believe she was really considering asking this. Then she charged ahead. “What do you do if—”

“If what,
chère?
”

“Never mind.”

Wanda waved Chloe into her office, gaze piercing. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against it. “You got a man you want, Chloe?”

Chloe glanced away. “Maybe.”

“Wouldn’t happen to be a certain cop with an attitude almost as big as his—” Wanda halted, grinning. “Not that I know from experience, you understand. Wouldn’t
mind finding out, of course. Man’s sex on the hoof if ever I saw it.”

Chloe stiffened. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Wanda shrugged. “All right. Whatever you say. You want to talk, I’m happy to. Just keep in mind that the certain detective we’re not talking about may be a hard case, but he’s the genuine article—hero stuff. You don’t want to confide in me, no problem, but don’t mess with him if you’re not serious, because he’s getting in deep with you, Chloe. Don’t hurt him.”

Chloe was stunned by her vehemence. “I—how could I hurt him? He’s—”
The strongest man I ever met,
she thought.

“That man we’re not discussing got burned bad by his divorce. I’m talking out of school, so we’ll let it go at this—I know too many women who’d have jumped at the chance to land him, but he’s never taken a tumble since.” She paused. “Until you. But the man’s no fool. He sees that you come from this lily-white background, whereas his ain’t so pretty. Seems to me, he’s gonna be gun-shy, expecting you to run back into your safe little world even if you walk on the wild side for a bit.”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to discuss this, Wanda.” Shaken by a new view of Vince, Chloe skittered away from a conversation that hit too close to the bone. She wasn’t prepared to go into how blue her blood really was.

“Fine. You’re the boss—”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that—”

The older woman’s eyes weren’t quite so soft anymore.
“I’m glad to listen. I mean that. But if you’re just playing rich girl out for a good time before you marry the King of Hair Spray, count me out.” With that, she headed back to her desk.

Chloe was still trying to frame a response, when Don Newcombe poked his head into the doorway. “Got a minute?”

She stirred from her confusion. “Sure. Have a seat. Want some coffee?”

“No, I’ve had plenty already. Wanted to discuss this report.” He gestured to the papers in his hand. “Coronado.”

Her stomach jittered. “Oh?”

He watched her for a minute. “Your remarks seem a little…” His gaze sharpened. “Sympathetic.”

She kept her voice carefully neutral. “In what way?”

“The guy’s been in trouble more than he’s been out of it, Chloe. He’s in hot water now, and his career is checkered with chances taken that could have gone south.”

“But they didn’t, did they? His arrest record is admirable, and his clearance rate is the best in the department.” Rare temper stirred, and she remembered what Vince had said about their past conflict. “Could it be,” she asked in a pointed tone, “that your reaction to him is personal?”

Newcombe’s eyes narrowed. “What did he tell you?”

Careful, Chloe. You aren’t doing Vince any favors to rouse Don’s suspicions.
She strove to soothe. “A well-run department requires a wide range of personalities.
Perhaps you and Detective Coronado simply have a personality conflict, is all I’m saying. I don’t doubt for a minute that you’re trying to do your job as thoroughly as always.” She watched for his reaction.

Guarded now, he was. And defensive. “Coronado and I had a run-in early in my career. You want my version?”

“If you’d care to tell me.”

He glanced away. “Not really.” He looked back. “I made a mistake about the facts in that case, but I’ve kept a close eye on him ever since. He’s the type, Chloe—I’ve got plenty of experience now, and I’ve seen cops go bad. Coronado is one who could do it.”

Chloe couldn’t disagree more. “I think,” she said carefully, “that you could be confusing a willingness to take risks in the service of justice with a true criminal bent.”

Her voice strengthened with her convictions. “I’ve had several far-ranging and serious discussions with Detective Coronado, and I honestly do not believe his tendency to push the boundaries of accepted procedure is motivated by anything but a sincere desire to take down the bad guys. He doesn’t mind stretching the rules as far as they’ll go. However, he would never break them, Don. There are confidences I cannot betray, but I must tell you that he has had experiences that demonstrated amply to him the cost of that life outside the boundaries, and he’s out to buttress the barriers that protect the good and the innocent, not destroy them.”

Newcombe stared at her, his cynicism barely hidden. “You haven’t been in this world long, Chloe,” he said.
“I have. I know that you’ve got training and mean well, but you’re still naive about human nature, for all your education.” He slapped the folder in his hand against his lap and rose. “Coronado has something to hide besides the Krueger bust—I feel it in my gut. And when I put all the pieces together, I’m taking him down, for the good of the force.”