The Law of Deceit, page 21
A soft knock on the door interrupts my work. I set the iPad down and walk over to the door to see who it could be today. We’ve had countless visitors since Sloane was discharged from the hospital. I’ll be glad when it slows down and goes back to just being us.
I peek through the side window and nearly choke on my own tongue when I discover who’s on the other side.
Mom and Dad.
Why are they here?
Fuck.
With a sigh, I open the door. Mom’s eyes drop to my shirtless body and her face sours like she’s been sucking on a lemon. I wave for them to come in and snag my shirt off the couch. By the time I’ve thrown it on, my parents are standing awkwardly in the living room.
I never really thought my parents were uppity, but seeing them in Sloane’s cozy, normal living room, they certainly look out of place. Mom’s designer handbag probably cost double what Sloane pays every month for rent.
“Hey,” I say in greeting. “Have a seat.”
They both sit side by side on the sofa. Sloane slowly walks into the room and stands close to me. The tension in the air is thick enough to damn near choke on.
“You need to sit down too, babe,” I say, gently guiding Sloane over to the recliner. “You got your way and unloaded the dishwasher. Now rest.”
She smirks at me but obeys. I help ease her into the chair and snag her blanket from the end of the couch. Once she’s settled, I can relax. I find my mother watching me with confusion in her eyes.
That’s right, Mom.
I’m a man who cares for his woman. Not some reckless child you think I am.
I bite my tongue, choosing not to say those very words. I don’t want to cause any more tension. Sloane is broken up about the idea of Mom hating her. It hurts me too. They’re best friends. Their friendship can’t end over something like this. It’s just not fucking fair.
Dad clears his throat. “So how are you feeling, Sloane?”
“Better than you’d think considering I took a bullet in the back. I’m anxious to get back to work.”
My father nods as though he approves of her answer. Mom purses her lips but doesn’t speak. I suppose it’s better than her yelling at me.
“Jude sent me information on those bikers,” Dad says, voice tight. “Basic stuff like all their criminal records, police reports, family, etc. Nothing telling. More than likely, their illegal activities that they haven’t been caught for have remained off the radar, especially if they’re dealing with cash. If there was something to find worth anything to tell, he’d have found it.”
Annoying as fuck, but not surprising. Silence fills the room and awkwardness settles over everyone. It’s obvious they didn’t both show up just to give me that useless update.
“Jamie,” Sloane says softly, voice filled with pain. “I’m so—”
“Please,” Mom chokes out. “Don’t.”
Sloane slumps, defeated by Mom’s dismissal. Anger swells up inside me. I sit on the arm of the recliner and take Sloane’s hand in mine, squeezing it to show my support.
“Mom,” I grind out. “This has to stop. You’re making this all about you and it has nothing to do with you.”
She gasps, eyes widening. “Dempsey.”
Dad frowns but doesn’t interrupt. I take it as a sign to keep pushing.
“No,” I say firmly. “You’ve punished us enough. You need to either get on board with us or get out. I won’t have you making us feel like shit for loving each other.”
“I…”
“You, you, you.” I sigh heavily. “Think for five seconds, Mom, that this is real because it is. You’re hurting two people you care deeply about because you don’t approve of the relationship. It’s selfish.”
Sloane is tense, her hand turning clammy in mine. I stroke her with my thumb and bend down to kiss her hand.
“I know this is hard for you to believe,” I tell my mother, “but I love Sloane. More than you could ever understand. I will do whatever I can to take care of her and make sure she feels adored like she absolutely should be. You of all people know what sort of shitty life she’s had when it comes to family. You—all of us—were her found family. She found and chose you to be hers. Now you want to throw it all away because she fell for your son?”
Mom looks at Sloane, her bottom lip trembling.
“Dempsey is so good to me,” Sloane says in a hoarse voice. “The best. I never knew a man could be so kind and loving. He’s breathed life into my bleak world, Jame. He’s a good man and doesn’t get enough credit for it. I wish everyone could see what I see.”
Her words make my chest tighten. “Aww, you love me, Officer Do-Good.”
She huffs out an annoyed laugh. “Yeah, you gave me no other choice.”
When I look back over at Mom, she’s studying us with new eyes, darting back and forth between us. Then she bursts into tears. Dad hugs her to him, stroking her hair and consoling her. Finally, she composes herself and gives us a watery smile.
“I just want you to be happy. For you both to be happy.” Mom swipes at her wet cheek. “If this is how it happens, then so be it. I’m sorry I’ve been such a witch about it. I love you both so much and can’t stand for either of you to get hurt.”
Something unfurls deep inside of me. Mom’s words are heartfelt and genuine. Maybe we can get through this shitty time sooner rather than later.
“Do you plan to come back home?” Dad asks, back to business. Always business with that guy. “What about school? Your career? I hope you’re not losing yourself in all this.”
“Dad,” I say in exasperation, “I’m finally figuring out who I am. I’ll start college in the fall like I said I would, but I’m going to actively pursue my art. I already have two paid gigs lined up.”
Dad nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Your talent is too incredible to be wasted. The world needs to see what you can do.”
Pride surges through me. I am a good artist. My father agrees. Holy fuck. Shocking as hell, that’s for sure.
“I’m also going to take my earnings and buy my own car,” I tell him. “Something I can afford on my own. Something I’ll drive on my terms and no one else’s.”
Dad grins. Actually grins. I haven’t seen him look this happy in, well, ever. What the actual fuck?
“And I’ll get my own place, too,” I continue now that I’m on a roll. “I’m eighteen and a man. When Sloane is ready to have me forever, then I’ll be there. Until then, I think I’ll be happier not living at home.”
“I’m ready,” Sloane says. “Don’t go.”
I tear my gaze from Dad’s weirdly twinkling eyes to look at my girl. “What?”
“I want you here, too, Demps. I finally found someone who loves me and who I love back. You think I’m going to let that go?”
Holy shit. Sloane’s asking me to move in with her.
“You just like that you’re getting home-cooked meals on the regular,” I tease. “And that I cleaned out all the stale cookies from your pantry.”
“Hey, I know a good thing when I see it,” she jokes back.
“You’ve been cooking?” Mom asks, surprise in her tone. “So you do pay attention.”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s your other kid you need to teach. That is, if you can get her to stop videoing herself for longer than five seconds.”
Dad chuckles. “She’s ‘influencing.’”
Sloane pokes at my thigh. “Be nice. She’s good at it. My nephew worships her.”
“It’s weird, though, right, Dad? She developed a cult of followers who buy what she tells them to buy. It’s like she’s mastered mind control. Fucking creepy if you ask me.”
Mom sighs in exasperation. “It’s not creepy. She’s a savvy, young businesswoman.”
“I’m sure half her followers are jerking off in their parents’ basements as she moisturizes her face live.”
“Dempsey!” Sloane and Mom both bark out at once.
Dad’s humor evaporates and he scowls. “They better not be.”
Sorry, Gem, I owe you coffee for that one.
“I’m sure everyone has innocent intentions,” I say to Dad, giving him my best angelic smile that used to get me out of trouble when I was a toddler.
He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Sure.” With a huff, he rises to his feet and offers a hand to Mom. She joins him and they both look over at us as Dad says, “We’ll see you soon.”
“At Sunday dinner when Sloane is feeling well enough to travel,” Mom says in her stern mother voice. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tease.
Sloane pokes me again. “We’ll be there. I’m fine.”
I hop up and see my parents out the door. Despite a rocky start, their visit turned out okay. When I return to the living room, Sloane has stood up and waits with a sexy smile that makes my dick perk.
“I could use a shower now, boyfriend. You going to wash me?”
Up until now, I’ve helped her shower every time and kept it G-rated. Something tells me she has a little more in store this next time.
“Boyfriend?”
“You moved in. It’s official.”
We’re official.
That I can get on board with.
Sloane
Montgomery’s eyebrows lift when I walk into the station in uniform. Tara greets me with a hug and then I get a fist bump from Aisha, who’s been back a couple of weeks before me. Eight weeks was a long time to be out of work. Bishop gives me a nod and a small smile.
Now, if I can just avoid Tanaka.
Internal Affairs held their investigation, and I was cleared. I’d threatened Tanaka about investigating him as well, but in the end decided not to. I’ll just be sneakier about uncovering what he’s up to. Rest assured, though, I’ll get to the bottom of it.
“Be prepared to be bored out of your skull,” Aisha says from her desk. “Chief says I can go back on patrol soon, thank God. I don’t know how much more of those dweebs’ daily banter I can take.”
Montgomery flips Aisha off and Bishop cracks up laughing. Idiots. I don’t blame her. It’s going to be a long few weeks of desk work until Tanaka deems me fit for duty. I plan on using this time wisely to obtain more information starting with any leads on Trevor.
I spoke with Rhiannon last night over the phone. They’ve been living back at the apartment for weeks and haven’t seen any sign of him. I’m worried that he’s vanished. Did something happen to him? Is he still alive or did he just skip town to avoid the heat? Whatever happened to my nephew, I will figure it out, no matter the result.
My desk is as I left it. Tidy and untouched. As much as it pains me to admit, I’m grateful to work the desk for a while. I’m healed physically, but I still am not at full strength. I get winded easily and tired after anything strenuous.
The morning goes surprisingly easy. Just about everyone at the station drops by my desk to give me shit about getting shot. I think it’s all in good fun. I certainly don’t let it bother me. When I have a lull between people coming over, I check my phone.
No texts from Dempsey.
He started classes at PMU this week. So far, he’s not happy that he only has one art-related class. I don’t blame him. School’s not his favorite place to be and they’re making him take gen-ed courses like English and History. But he’s not complaining about it, which I’m hoping means he’s focused and taking notes. I decide to refrain from texting him so as not to disturb him.
I’m so lost in my thoughts about Dempsey that I almost don’t see Tanaka breeze by. It’s nearly lunchtime and he’s just now showing up to the station today. As expected, he doesn’t stop to talk to me or acknowledge my presence. It’s satisfying knowing he tried to get me out of here and failed since I didn’t do anything wrong. I guess I’d be bitter if I were him too.
“Montgomery, my office,” Tanaka barks over his shoulder. “Now.”
I smirk at Montgomery and shrug. How does it feel to be in the doghouse, asshole?
As soon as he disappears, I realize Bishop is nowhere to be found. The two detectives on Lenny’s case are away from their desks and Tanaka is distracted. This is one of those golden opportunities I’d hoped for with having desk duty.
Quickly, I slip out of my chair and make my way over to Montgomery’s desk. Since he runs his mouth more than he works, his area is clean and no files are anywhere. Bishop’s desk, however, is a goldmine. It’s clear to see who does all the work between those two. I take a seat, ignoring Aisha’s wide eyes as she watches me while on the phone. I’m sure she’ll give me crap about this later, but I don’t care. It’s now or never.
Several folders on his desk are ones I’m unfamiliar with. I do, however, come across one called Tate Prince. I’d been the one to take Tate’s statement when his vehicle had been vandalized and then again when he’d dealt with a stalker. The perp has been in jail for nearly a year now. Case closed. Why in the hell is it on Bishop’s desk?
As much as I want to dig around to see what that’s all about, I have something more important to worry about. Trevor. I end up finding the file I’m looking for buried under a few more, including the Ghirard file.
Maybe I’m not the only one who’s had a problem with all these cases. It’s annoying that Bishop can dig all he wants but Tanaka rides my ass for it. Does Tanaka know Bishop is looking at these files? If me and Bishop put our heads together, perhaps we can uncover what Tanaka is hiding after all.
Bishop’s phone that’s sitting on the desk lights up. Because I’m nosy, I take a peek. It’s a text message.
Mayor: You can’t change the price, Andre. Not how this works.
An oily feeling slicks over my skin. What price? How does Bishop even know the mayor? His phone lights up again with another text. Of course I read that one as well.
Mayor: Just make it go away like you promised. We can renegotiate later. This is too important to stall on.
“Can I help you?” a deep voice rumbles from behind me.
I slam Trevor’s file closed and wheel around to face Bishop. He cocks his head to the side, studying me as though he can see inside my mind. The penetrating look causes me to shiver.
“Just looking for this.” I wave the folder at him. “Since no one is looking for my nephew anymore or looking into who killed my sister’s boyfriend, I thought I’d tackle this to see if I could find out anything new.”
Bishop glances at Tanaka’s office and then flashes me a goofy grin. “You’re in luck. Me and Montgomery were about to follow up on a lead.” He gestures at Tanaka’s office. “He’s going to be there a while, I imagine, and this is time-sensitive. Want to ride with me and ask your questions?”
A lead on Trevor?
My heart leaps at the prospect.
“Of course. What’s the lead?”
He snags his phone and keys off his desk. “I’ll fill you in on the way. Let’s go.”
Aisha, who’s still on the phone, frowns when I walk by with Bishop. I mouth the word “lead” and drop the file on her desk. Before she can tell me this could get my ass fired, because it could, I follow after Bishop to his SUV.
“So,” I ask once I’m buckled in and we’re on the road, “what’s the lead?”
“A guy called in. Said he thinks Trevor’s been staying with some bad people. I told the guy we’d meet up so I could ask more questions.”
A guy. Bad people. Vague much?
I drill him for more answers, but he cleverly diverts the conversation back to work and fills me in on what I’ve missed. I’m starting to get a really gross feeling about this. Alarm bells are ringing inside my head. As soon as we pull down the road where the bikers’ place is, all the hairs on my arms stand on end.
This doesn’t feel safe.
Thank God I have my service weapon on me.
That didn’t help last time when you got shot, dumbass.
“Across the street,” Bishop says, pointing to a dilapidated house. “He says he sees people coming in and out all the time, but there’s this one kid who’s young and doesn’t seem like he belongs with them.” He pulls up in front of the old house. “If you want to stay in the car, that’s fine. You won’t hurt my feelings. I know it might be triggering to be back here.”
Fuck off, asshole.
As if I’ll give up this opportunity to get information on Trevor. It’s not like I can rely on Bishop or Montgomery to do their jobs. We’d have found him already if they actually worked every now and again.
I climb out of the vehicle and follow after Bishop as he goes to the front door. He bangs on the door and holds his badge out. The door cracks open and a greasy-looking guy peeks out.
“Detective Bishop,” Bishop says, voice deep and commanding. “You called about a kid who looked out of place?”
The man nods and points past us to the barn on the property behind the bikers’ house. “Yeah. He was comin’ and goin’ pretty frequently until a few weeks ago. Then he went in that barn and hasn’t come out. Gotta bad feelin’ about it.”
Bile surges up my throat and it takes everything in me not to puke. If he went into the barn and never came back out, does that mean they killed him? Oh God.
I’m still staring at the barn when a skinny man is shoved out the side door. He stumbles and falls face first into the grass.
What if it’s him?
I take off running, ignoring Bishop’s barked order to wait for him to call for backup. All that matters is getting to Trevor. If it’s not Trevor, there’s a kid out there who needs help. My back immediately starts to ache from the exertion, but adrenaline keeps me from slowing. I run through the yard where a couple of months ago I was shot and into the field. The skinny man climbs to his feet and starts waving at me.
