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10

WEST

I was out behind Henry’s, chatting with one of the delivery drivers, when my phone rang. I excused myself and returned inside, checking the screen as I did. My heart lifted. It was Joanna. I accepted the call.

“Hey.” I sounded as breathless as I felt.

“Hi. Are you alone?” Her tone was brisk and businesslike.

I looked around. “Yeah. I just popped into the bar to help with a couple of things, but I was about to leave.”

“Good.” She hesitated for a moment. “Can you meet me at Grant Park?”

My eyebrows flew up. I couldn’t imagine why she might ask me to meet her there rather than at our apartment or even Henry’s.

“Sure.” I checked that the back door was locked and headed out through the fire exit, which automatically locked behind me. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

My car—a small sedan with several hidden compartments, which actually belonged to the bureau rather than me—was parked to the rear of the building. I unlocked it manually, checked that the trunk was empty, because in my line of work it paid to be suspicious, and dropped into the driver’s seat. I cranked up the heater and drove toward Grant Park.

When I arrived, I walked to meet Joanna, who was standing near the entrance. The park was almost deserted, no doubt thanks to the chilly temperatures and gray skies. My wife—I refused to think of her as anything else—stood silhouetted against the clouds, beautiful, but something about her seemed terribly distant too.

Sad. Alone.

My heart ached for her. I wished I could take her into my arms and comfort her. But I couldn’t do that. There was every chance I’d spend the rest of my life desperate for Joanna’s affection but never able to have it. I’d just have to hope that, one day, she’d be able to forgive me. Or at the very least, let me make it up to her.

I didn’t speak until I drew closer to her. “I was surprised you called.”

Although “surprised” didn’t really cover it. “Shocked” would be more accurate.

She raised her chin, unsmiling. “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay.” I stopped moving and slid my hands inside my pockets. “Hit me with it.”

She took her phone out and tapped on the screen, then turned it toward me. I leaned close, barely managing not to flinch at the sight that greeted me. It was so far from anything I might have expected that I was caught off guard. Not that I’d really known what to expect at all.

Sasha Sloane’s blank eyes gazed out at me. Based on the splash of crimson on her chin and the position of her head, I’d hazard a guess this photograph had been taken at the crime scene.

“Do you know her?” Joanna asked, her voice deceptively even.

She was anxious. Perhaps most people wouldn’t be able to tell, but I could. It was in the way her pointer finger tapped against the side of the phone and the subtle shifting of her weight from one foot to the other while she waited for a response. She already suspected the answer. But how had she connected Sasha to me?

Perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised. I’d always been told that Joanna was a hell of an investigator.

“Her name is Sasha Sloane,” I said, knowing that if I denied an acquaintance, I’d only be digging a deeper hole in which to bury the remains of our marriage.

Joanna nodded. “That’s right. She’s the subject of the murder investigation I’m currently working on. What I want to know is what she has to do with you.”

I rolled my head from side to side, debating how much to tell her. On the one hand, she’d clearly already put some of the pieces together, but I didn’t have direct approval from Adam to share any of the details of our operation with her—except for a blanket permission to discuss my father, and this wasn’t the time for that.

I sighed. I should have had a drink before leaving the bar. “She was Carlos Ortez’s mistress.”

A quick intake of breath. ‘We knew she had a boyfriend, and that he might be in the mob, but the boss himself?”

I inclined my head, confirming it.

“Is that why you were seen talking to her at the Red Letter strip club?” She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes.

I winced, feeling both sheepish and guilty. It was one thing for her to know I was undercover, but I hated her being aware that I visited places like the Red Letter. It cheapened our relationship, even if I’d never gone there for pleasure.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I cultivated a relationship with Sasha’s best friend, another dancer, and eventually, she introduced us.”

Her jaw ticked. “A relationship.”

I held up my hands, my palms out, placating. “Purely business.”

“Of course.” She rolled her eyes. “I have absolutely no reason to doubt a thing you say.”

“It wasn’t like that.” It sounded weak, and we both knew it.

“So, what was it like?” she asked. “Tell me.”

“Sasha was feeding me information to implicate Ortez’s wife in criminal dealings.”

A light went off in her head. “She wanted the wife out of the way.”

“Exactly.” I almost grinned. This was beginning to feel less like an interrogation and more like a pair of colleagues sharing intel. I could work with that. “I promised to pass the evidence along if she gave me enough for a conviction, and meanwhile, I was triple checking everything she sent through, hoping it would give me something on Ortez himself, or the men who work for him.”

“Including the dirty cops?”

“Yes. She was an incredible source of information.” I wouldn’t say I’d liked Sasha, but I’d respected her for knowing what she wanted and going after it ruthlessly. It was a shame it had ended badly for her. I wasn’t sure who had wielded the knife, but I had no doubt it was someone from Ortez’s shadowy world.

“Do you have any idea who might have killed her?” Joanna asked, as if she’d somehow read my train of thought.

“No.” I pursed my lips. “Helena Ortez had plenty of reason to want her out of the picture, but Sasha was a weak link in their organization as a whole. It could have been any number of people.”

Joanna tossed her hair over her shoulder and gazed out over the gardens. “Will her best friend know?”

“She doesn’t.” I must have spoken too quickly because Joanna’s eyes narrowed.

“You’ve been in touch with her since the body was found?” she demanded.

I braced myself. There was no easy way to say this. “Portia is the woman you saw me with in that coffee shop.”

She reeled back, as if I’d hit her, but then her gaze cleared. “You were holding her hand because she’d just found her best friend’s dead body?”

“That’s right.” I was relieved she’d jumped to the right conclusion this time.

“The call that reported Sloane’s body was from a male.” She tapped her chin. “Portia called you, and you informed the police.”

“Right again. Portia doesn’t trust the police. Especially not officers in uniform.” I didn’t blame her. Portia was an escort as well as a dancer, and she’d experienced how badly some cops treated sex workers firsthand.

“Why did you stay in the area?” she asked, but then nodded as if she’d answered her own question. “Because you thought Neal would pick up the case, not me.”

I chuckled. “Do you need me here at all? It seems like you’ve got this figured out.”

I regretted the quip the instant her cool gaze landed on me. Usually, she didn’t mind my teasing, but I guess that was a perk of being the man she loved. Now, I got to find out how it felt to be the recipient of her scorn.

“Tell me more about Portia,” she said, her eyes darting around, scanning the area.

We were alone.

I drew in a deep breath. Adam was going to be furious with me for sharing so much information, but I was trusting my judgment when it came to Joanna and hoping like hell she wouldn’t prove me wrong.

“I made contact with her initially, when she was brought in on solicitation charges. She works at a brothel owned by the Ortez family and one of her regular clients is the man we believe leaked information to them about the raid on their warehouse. I got the charges against her dropped and, in return, she’s been supplying me with any tidbits she learns from him.”

Joanna crossed her arms. “And has she been useful?”

“Yes, in a broad sense. She hasn’t given us anything definitive, but enough to implicate several other officers.” Now that we knew to watch them, it was only a matter of waiting for them to slip up.

Joanna took this in silently, then asked, “Was she able to tell you much about Sasha Sloane’s death?”

“Not beyond the fact she suspects Helena Ortez is responsible. She was reluctant to say much when we spoke. She’d only just found the body and was struggling to hold it together. She might be able to offer more insight now.” I debated whether to continue but decided I had little to lose. “She may be more comfortable speaking to a woman.”

Joanna scoffed. “Me?”

I shrugged. “Who better? It’s your case, and it would be better if this could stay off the official record, so it doesn’t interfere with our operation.”

Her nostrils flared. “Let me get this straight. You want me to interview the woman who inadvertently broke our sham of a marriage and then ignore protocol to protect my lying fake husband while I’m at it?”

“Um…” There was definitely a right and wrong answer he re, but unfortunately, it wasn’t one of the times I could afford to soothe her pride. “Yes. Pretty much.”

Her laser-focused glare could slice through steel like butter. She didn’t want to, that much was clear. I yearned to take her hand, but I couldn’t be sure whether she’d accept the offer or punch me for it.

“There’s never been anything sexual or romantic between Portia and me,” I assured her. “I’m a physical person, you know that. Holding her hand was about supporting her while she went through something traumatic. Nothing more.”

She deflated. “It’s just hard to get that image out of my mind.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for that, but I’ve only had eyes for you since the day we met.” Goddamn her stubbornness—even if I understood the reason for it. I wanted to gather her against my chest so badly it almost hurt, and whether she’d admit it or not, she could use the comfort too. “No one else can rival your quick wit, or the softness you hide from everyone other than me.”

Her jaw firmed, and she swallowed. “Fine. If you’re willing to introduce us, then I’ll talk to her, but I can’t promise it will achieve anything. You’ve taken the time to earn her trust. I don’t know why she’d share something with me but not you.”

The pressure in my chest eased. “Thank you.”

She squared her shoulders and straightened her back, as if preparing to walk into battle. “Let’s do it, then.”

I hadn’t expected that. “Now?”

She met my eye. “No reason to delay, right?”