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22

JOANNA

I rushed back to the apartment, a wide-eyed officer who’d recently arrived to guard the door getting out of my way as I breezed through.

“I have an address,” I called to West.

He pocketed his phone. “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” I held my hands up. “We should call for backup.”

“We can do that on the way.” He strode over to me and took my hand. “If Portia is in danger and there’s a chance that Sewell abducted her, then we need to save her.”

“We will,” I assured him. “But we don’t know what we’re walking into. We can’t do it alone.”

He nodded. “Come on.”

We left, passing the still-ruffled officer on our way.

“No one comes in or out,” I told him. “That includes Detective Sewell. Do you understand?”

His brow crinkled. “Ma’am?”

“This scene is now locked down. If anyone else tries to enter, call me. No one gets in without approval, even if they have a badge. ”

The furrow between his eyebrows deepened. “What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later. Do I have your word?”

“Yes, ma’am. If anyone tries to get in, I’ll call you.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

West and I walked until we were out of sight, and then we flew down the stairs and across the parking lot. He pushed a button on his key fob to unlock the car doors and we both got in. I added the coordinates Zeke sent me to the GPS while West started the engine.

He backed out and then paused to hand me his phone. “Get in touch with Adam. Put it on speaker.”

I scrolled through his short contacts list and hit the ‘Call’ button when it appeared beside Adam’s name.

“Update?” a male voice asked through the speaker.

“You’re on speaker with me and Joanna,” West said. “We’re tracking Sewell. He might lead us to Portia. We need backup to help get her out.”

Adam didn’t reply.

“Sir?” West asked.

The silence lingered. Dread curled in my gut. I had a bad feeling about this.

“Conti,” Adam said slowly. “This is a massive operation. If we bust Sewell now, then there’s a good chance Ortez will find out. I’m not sure that we can justify risking the entire operation for the sake of one confidential informant.”

“What?” West sounded outraged.

I grimaced, but somehow, I wasn’t surprised by his words. Someone who masterminded the duping of an innocent detective surely didn’t mind a little collateral damage.

“Hold off for an hour or so,” Adam said. “Let me think it over.”

“Hang up,” West growled.

I ended the call. “That’s your boss? ”

“Yeah.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “There’s a reason he’s in his current role. He’s a good actor, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a shit about anyone besides himself.”

“You’re not waiting an hour, are you?” I asked quietly.

“No.” He white-knuckled the steering wheel and turned onto a main road out of the residential area, into a more industrialized one.

“It’s dangerous without backup.” Him and I against who knows how many thugs? It wasn’t just dangerous; it was practically suicidal.

He glanced at me, his green eyes burning with intensity. “I trust you, Jo. You and no one else. If we call in a police taskforce, we can’t guarantee they’ll be fighting for our side. We could be arming the opposition—and letting them know we’re coming.”

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, a headache forming behind my temples. “Then I guess we’re going in alone.”

I couldn’t believe it. A month ago, I’d been happily married and oblivious to the poison infecting our ranks.

Only a short time ago, I’d hated my fake husband and would have been glad to never see his face again.

Now, I was gearing up to walk into battle with him.

How the hell did that happen?

I turned toward the window and rolled my eyes at my reflection. I knew exactly how it had happened. I’d gone and fallen back in love with my goddamn husband. Or maybe I’d never fallen out of love with him in the first place, and I’d just been fooling myself.

I turned back to him. “Tell me you have weapons hidden in here.”

A slow grin spread across his face, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “That, I can do. This girl is hiding all of my favorites.”

At least that was something.

He slowed and took another corner, then another, moving deeper into the industrial district. Finally, we turned onto a street lined with warehouses. He parked on the side of the street, killed the engine and switched off the headlights.

The sun was beginning to rise, and we could see enough of our surroundings not to need flashlights. We got out of the car as silently as possible, and I cringed as the cold air whipped around us.

West lifted a panel on the floor in front of the driver’s seat and withdrew a gun. I noticed a similar tab hidden on the passenger side, so I copied him and revealed a large compartment with a semi-automatic pistol inside. I clicked it together and checked the magazine. It was loaded. I pocketed more ammo.

“Got a knife?” West asked. “We might need to cut her free.”

When I shook my head, he reached beneath the driver’s seat and carefully slid out a box. He unlatched the box and offered me a large hunting knife inside a sheath, handle first. I connected it to my holster, and he tucked a second, smaller knife into his jacket pocket.

“Do you have bulletproof gear?” I murmured.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Damn.” A bulletproof vest and a helmet wouldn’t go astray right now. I should have packed mine before I left home but I’d been preoccupied by the missing escort and hadn’t considered that we might end up in a firefight before dawn.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Not really.” I doubted either of us was truly prepared for whatever we were about to face.

We snuck around the side of the warehouse nearest us and picked our way around the buildings, approaching the warehouse Zeke had indicated, moving toward the rear rather than the front. If it had guards, they were more likely to be keeping an eye on the street than the surrounding properties.

I scanned the area as we approached our target. Perhaps we’d been wrong to suspect we were walking into a bad situation. No one moved on the perimeter. Not even a shadow flickered. Something about that gave me the creeps, but I didn’t pause to wonder about it, instead darting across the open space to the side entrance.

I tried the handle. “It’s locked.”

“Here. Let me.” West moved alongside me, holding a set of lock picks and a small electronic box.

“Drop it,” a voice barked behind us. “Get on your knees and put your hands up.”

I spun. A uniformed officer stood behind us, his gun leveled at my chest.

“I’m a homicide detective,” I explained. “My badge is in my pocket.”

I started to reach for it, but the officer just laughed. “I know you are.”

Figures moved out of the darkness to join him, and within seconds, we were surrounded on all sides—only our backs protected by the warehouse.

The officer’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Get on your knees, put down your weapons, and push them over here.”

My heart sank. This man—whoever he was—wasn’t the only uniformed policeman here. I recognized several around the precinct. Narcotics. Major Crimes. And there, front and center, was Detective Sewell.

Sewell put his hands on his hips and laughed. “Did you really think I’d be dumb enough to let you track me?”

His mouth was twisted in a cocky smirk, his back straight, and his attitude was all insolence. He no longer looked weary or beaten down by life. Despite his small stature, he was obviously in charge.

“I could tell you were suspicious of me,” he continued, not waiting for us to reply. “I don’t know what Denny said to you, but it was clear he’d been spilling his guts about something. I couldn’t risk word getting out. One of our buddies who isn’t on the force is on his way to visit Denny now. He won’t be talking to anyone else.”

A bolt of fear ran through me.

“No,” I whispered.

We’d been wrong to suspect Hanson. He was just an innocent bystander caught up in this horrible mess.

I was tempted to ask what Sewell wanted with us, and why he’d allow us to see the faces of so many people involved, but I knew the answer to that last part: He didn’t expect us to have a chance to tell anyone what we knew.

“Where’s Portia?” I asked, trying to remain as calm as possible.

He scoffed. “That whore? She’s long gone.”

West stiffened, and I grabbed his arm before he could make a dangerous mistake. Attacking Sewell wouldn’t get us anywhere when we were so outgunned and outnumbered. We didn’t have a hope of escaping with brute strength. If we wanted to get out of here, we’d have to be smart about it.

“Cuff them,” Sewell barked to the men nearest to us.

We allowed ourselves to be restrained and led around the warehouse and in through the main entrance. Only a few of our captors joined us. One frisked us both and removed our weapons.

Someone shoved me, and I dropped to my knees, wincing as the impact jarred my kneecaps. West stumbled beside me, landing on his ass. Sewell marched around and stood in front of us.

“So,” he said, his hands on his hips. “What is it that you think you know?”

Neither of us answered.

I’d never been in a situation like this before and I wasn’t sure if West had either, but I knew that Sewell intended to dispose of us. The only reason he hadn’t yet was because he didn’t know how much knowledge we had of their operation—or whether we’d told anyone else.

If we gave him answers, he’d have no reason to keep us alive. Even if we were tortured, it would allow time for someone to notice we were missing and come looking. Better to be injured and alive than have a painless death.

Sewell sighed. “I really wish you’d make this easy. It would be nicer for all of us that way. Believe it or not, I don’t actually want to hurt you.”

We both remained silent.

He huffed. “Okay, next question. What was it that gave me away? Was it just Hanson, or did I do or say something to make you suspicious?”

No response.

He paced back and forth in front of us. “See, I don’t think you’ve been onto me for long, but I do believe that someone has cottoned onto our operation, and it seems awfully suspicious to me that a famously straitlaced detective just happened to meet the man of her dreams at exactly the same time things started to go wrong for us.”

I raised my chin. “It sounds like you’re reaching.”

His laugh had a manic edge. “Does it? Because I happen to think it stinks of a setup. I wasn’t sure before tonight, but it’s obvious to me now that you were in on this from the beginning. You helped the feds get close to your fellow officers. Where’s your loyalty?”

I cocked an eyebrow, intrigued by the assumptions he’d made. I actually preferred his version of events to the real one, so I wasn’t going to correct him. If I’d been in on the operation from the start, then it made me an active player. Infinitely preferable to being a pawn.

“I’m loyal to people who deserve it,” I told him, refusing to let him cow me.

He chuckled. “You are, aren’t you? Unfortunately for you, that makes you the weak link right now.”

He picked up the discarded hunting knife and scraped it along the underside of West’schin, digging the point hard enough into his skin to draw blood. A single droplet rolled down his throat and soaked into the fabric of his jacket.

“See?” he continued, stepping back. “I can tell you care for your phony husband. It’s sweet, in a way, and I’m grateful for it, because it means I can do this.”

He made a quick hand gesture and a man dressed in black kicked West in the gut, just below his rib cage. I gritted my teeth as the air gusted between his lips and he groaned. His green eyes caught mine, wide with surprise.

The man kicked him again.

“Start talking,” Sewell ordered me.

West’s gaze implored me not to, so I pressed my lips together. If he was willing to endure pain to keep his operation on track, I respected that. These men were responsible for killing his father, after all. I could understand him wanting to give them the metaphorical middle finger.

Sewell made a sound of disgust. “Get me a bucket of water.”

The man in black jogged deeper into the warehouse, between the containers that rose over two meters high. I wondered what was inside them. He’d said Portia was gone, but perhaps he’d lied. Could she have been stashed in one of these containers?

When he returned, he set the bucket in front of West. With no ceremony, Sewell grabbed him by the head and forced his face into the water.

I jerked, lurching toward them, determined to help as West struggled, his cuffed hands opening and closing around nothing. The man in black planted his foot on my diaphragm and shoved me backward. I landed hard on my tailbone and bit my lip until I tasted blood, determined not to give him the pleasure of hearing me scream.

Sewell yanked West out of the water. He sputtered, spitting out water and dragging in a lungful of air.

“Who knows about us?” Sewell demanded.

“Fuck you,” West gasped.

Sewell shoved him face-first back into the bucket and held him there for so long that I stumbled toward them again, dodging the man in black’s attempt to sweep my legs out from under me. Unfortunately, before I reached them, he grabbed my shoulders and held me back.

West surfaced again, panting heavily as water streamed down his face and dripped off his chin.

“West,” I whispered.

I wasn’t sure I could watch them do this again, even if it was what he wanted. What if they left it too long and he passed out?

What if he drowned? Could I live with that?

Sure, I didn’t know as many of the details of the operation as West did, but I knew some. Possibly enough to make them stop.

Sewell pushed him backward, and West only just caught himself before his head cracked against the concrete floor.

The dirty detective’s mouth twisted. “Do you know how I confirmed that you’re not really a bartender?” he asked West, rounding on him. “I just showed a photo of you to my brother, and lo-and-behold, it turns out you were with the cop he took out last year. A little more digging, and I realized he’s your dear departed dad. ”

“Don’t talk about my father,” West hissed, his eyes gleaming with fury.

Sewell cocked his head. “Don’t you want to know who pulled the trigger?”

“Your brother,” West ground out.

“Yes.” Sewell’s lips quirked. “Clever. Dirk?”

The man in black stepped forward. My heart dropped.

He had killed West’s dad.

Now that Sewell brought my attention to him, his military bearing was undeniable.

West’s eyes shot fire at Dirk Sewell but he didn’t say a word.

Detective Sewell huffed. “I was really hoping you’d be one of those people who run their mouths when they’re angry. I guess I’ll have to try another tactic.” He turned to me. “Lee, apologies for assuming you were the weak link in this arrangement. I shouldn’t have said that just because you’re a woman. Let’s try this all again, shall we?”

He closed the distance between us in three steps, grabbed me by the arm and jammed the knife into the fleshy part of my left shoulder. Searing pain tore through me.

I bit through the soft interior of my lower lip and swallowed a scream. I stared at the blade, embedded in my shoulder, and resisted the urge to try to yank it out after he let go. Doing so would only worsen the bleeding and possibly cause more damage.

“Jo!” West shouted, drawing my attention. His face was pale, his eyes full of horror. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

I didn’t respond because, really, what was there to say? I wished we weren’t in this situation too, but wishing and praying wouldn’t do us any good right now.