Page 69 of Sinful Seduction
And just like that, her hard stance falters.
“You were at the bay on Monday night, weren’t you?”
“No, I?—”
“You should know we have CCTV footage of you together. You and Molly.” I bring my focus back to the first. “Ben called you, didn’t he? He needed that gun, and you’d swiped it from Miranda. Your parents checked in on you around ten, like they always do. You knew you were clear after that until morning. You snuck out of your house with nothing but the clothes on your back and the gun you were terrified to truly touch. You didn’t want to handle it. You sure as shit didn’t want to fire it. But Ben was worried about his life, and dammit, you loved that boy. So you slipped out and grabbed your bestie on the way. You went to him. Both of you.” I look at Tori. “You didn’t want her to go. You nagged her the whole way, bickering and being mean. Because that’s what you do for someone you love. You tried to warn her. You tried to stop her. This could only go bad, and if Ben used that gun to hurt someone else, you knew it would be traced back to Molly.”
“No,” Molly groans. “That’s not what happened.”
“Shut up,” Tori snaps. “You’re wrong, Detective.”
“When the shit went down,” Fletch picks up my metaphorical ball and runs with it. “When shots rang out and Ben hit the ground, when Molly was hurt, and the police were on the way, you took the weapon and ran with it, didn’t you? To save your best friend, to keep her out of trouble, you bolted and tossed it.”
“No! That’s not what?—”
“You were acting protectively. Both of you. Tori was protecting Molly, and Molly,” I look at her, “You were protecting Ben. He got in over his head with a crowd he no longer really fit in with. He’d softened in the last year. Grew comfortable in a world that was a little lessdangerous. He was in trouble, and he needed someone to have his back.”
“Admitting you stole the gun will get you nothing more than a court appearance and a stern talking to by a judge.” Fletch checks his watch, like we have somewhere else to be. Somewhere better. “You have a fantastic record, your grades are spectacular, your internship comes with glowing references, and… Ben is dead.” He stops and sighs. “He won’t mind taking the blame for this one.”
“You tell the judge he told you to steal it, and that stern talking to is downgraded to a shake of the judge’s head. Ben himself is the only casualty of whatcouldhave been a much larger war. He could’ve started something huge. Tell the judgewhyhe asked you to steal it, tell uswhoshot him, and this case will be closed.”
“He deserves to be laid to rest.” Fletch softens his expression. “He deserves this to be packed away, and for his killer to be put behind bars.”
“It’s laughable how wrong you are.” Tori’s eyes burn with a stubbornness that’ll get her in trouble someday. A fire she’ll have to learn to control, or the lawyer arguing against her client will eat her up long before the jury can get a word in. “You have no friggin’ clue what you’re talking about.”
“Tori wasn’t there.” Molly’s chest shudders, her face screwing up in pain as she sets her hands on the bed and tries to push up straighter. “She has nothing to do with any of this.”
“Except that she fled the scene of a crime.”
“Even if that were true?—”
“Molly!”
“Even if that were true,” she repeats, closing her eyes and breathing through the pain radiating up through her torso. “It’s such an insignificant detail in a much larger issue. It hardly requires a footnote on your files.”
“So, answers for immunity?” I dial in on her first admission and try not to smile too wolfishly. “You want to deal, and so long as Tori’s name is left out, you’d be willing to tell us who shot at you and Ben?”
“You don’t deal on my behalf!” Tori turns on her friend, doing that thing best friends do. The eyes. The stare. “Youwon’tmake a deal to save me, Molly.”
“That’s what she does,” Fletch counters arrogantly. “She protects the people she loves. Because maybe you’re a good girl, Molly, raised on a good suburban street with parents whose only goal was to shield you from the cruel things thrown at you in life. But you’re still GrantFreemon’s daughter. His first-born child. He smoothed the way and stood in front of you every chance he could, but damn if he didn’t tell you what was important. Loyalty. Protection. Love. He taught you to help those who needed help, and he made damn sure you never judged the kids who come from the other side of town. He was one of those kids, after all.”
“Your dad went back to that world today, Molly.”
Stunned, her eyes flare wide. “What?”
“He wants to know who targeted you. He wants names, and he wants revenge.” I hold her eyes and press the reality of what comes next if she keeps her secrets. “Like Ben, your dad busted his ass and broke away from that world. He made something of himself. Found success and happiness. He created a beautiful family and stayed legit. But…” I shrug. “Like Ben, he slipped. Every man has a line. A limit. And when you got caught up at the bay this week, your dad found his.”
“No, he…” Fresh, fat tears squeeze from the corners of her eyes. “He didn’t.”
“He did.” I hook a thumb toward a silent Clay. “He’s got eyes out there. Informants whose entire life is about snitching to the cops. Your father was on Chapel today, dealing with an old friend, and that friend is connecting him to a bad motherfucker. There is no price Grant Freemon won’t pay for his daughter’s safety. But where’syourline, Molly? Where’s your limit?”
“You need to leave,” Tori growls. “Get the hell out.”
“Don’t let this be your dad’s slip. Don’t let him destroy twenty years of hard work when you have the answers he’s looking for, anyway.”
“He won’t pay with money,” Fletch adds. “They don’t deal in cash down there. He’ll pay with work, and that work can only be illegal. If it wasn’t…” He lifts a shoulder. “They’d just hire out of the Yellow Pages, wouldn’t they?”
“You know what happened, Molly. You can fix this.”