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24

WEST

“Make sure to keep the stitches dry for at least the first forty-eight hours,” the doctor said as they finished the dressing on Joanna’s shoulder. “You should be on light duties for the rest of the week. And stay out of the gym.”

She nodded. “I will, thanks.”

“And you.” The doctor turned toward me, his expression stern. “Come back immediately if you experience any difficulty breathing. I’m not worried about the swelling and bruising. That will heal. But secondary drowning is stilla possibility if you inhaled water.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him.

Joanna’s eyes narrowed. “If anything is off, I promise to bring him back.”

“Good.” The doctor straightened. “I’ll send a nurse in with your discharge paperwork, and then you can leave whenever you’re ready.”

Ten minutes later, we were making our way slowly along the corridor toward a hospital room with a uniformed police officer stationed outside. I ached, but thanks to a strong dose of painkillers, it was a nuisance rather than anything more severe.

Joanna was fortunately uninjured except for the cut on her shoulder and some swelling in her hand. I felt terrible that they’d hurt her to get to me. She’d suffered enough because of me. She shouldn’t have had to endure further pain.

I was also worried that the second I turned my back, she might disappear. There was no way my undercover role was still viable, which meant she no longer had to keep me around. If she asked me to get out of her life now, all I could do was say yes, no matter how much it pained me. There was no reason for the pretense to continue.

“Matthews,” Jo said as we approached the officer, “how is he?”

Matthews scanned us both, her eyes widening. “Safe. They put me here to make sure it stays that way. What happened to you two?”

Joanna waved her hand. “I’ll explain later.”

“Okay.” Matthews seemed disappointed but didn’t push the matter. “He’s awake and cranky as ever. Go on in.”

She stepped aside and I opened the door and held it for Joanna to enter first. I closed it behind her, breathing in the familiar hospital scents of antiseptic, blood, and body odor.

Hanson lay on a narrow hospital bed, propped up on pillows, his eyes half open. With visible effort, he opened them fully and scowled at us.

“You look like shit,” he rasped.

Joanna laughed. “I think this is a case of the pot and the kettle, Denny.”

One corner of Hanson’s mouth hitched up. “Maybe so.”

I remained standing while Joanna took the seat beside the bed.

“What’s the prognosis?” she asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Women. Always fussing over me. The doc says I’ll survive. Should recover fully, although I’m thinking about riding a desk until retirement. I don’t fancy getting shot again.”

“You could do the paperwork and research while I’m in the field,” Joanna said. “I’m glad to hear you’ll be all right. Has anyone called Deborah?”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes and then forced them open again. “She’s getting herself a coffee and a salad in the cafeteria. She’ll be back soon.”

“Denny.” Joanna’s good hand twitched, as if she’d almost reached for his and then decided against it. “What were you doing at that apartment building?”

I moved to stand behind her and rested my hands on her shoulders. Hanson’s eyes followed the movement.

“I’ll tell you that when you tell me what he’s doing here,” he grumbled.

“Soon,” Joanna assured him.

He harrumphed. “Fine. I went back to the Red Door. Had some more questions. I saw Portia and recognized her as the woman your husband was having coffee with. She wouldn’t answer my questions, but I got the feeling she was the key to everything. I’d been trying to catch her after one of her shifts to try again, but I wasn’t having any luck, so I persuaded the manager to give me her address. Real scumbag, that one.”

“You didn’t think that asking about her could put her in danger?” Joanna asked, chastening.

Hanson cringed. “I pretended to be a fan of her dancing.”

“And he bought it?” She sounded dubious.

“Well, I thought so, but who the hell knows?”

“So, you went to her apartment, looking for her,” I prompted, eager to hear the rest.

He tilted his head toward me. “The lock was broken, and when I pushed the door open, who should I see inside but fucking Detective Sewell. He ran out the fire escape. I followed, but someone shot me before I could catch him.”

I doubted he’d have been able to catch the younger, fitter man anyway, but I kept that thought to myself.

Joanna frowned. “It wasn’t Sewell who shot you?”

“No.” He sighed. “I didn’t see who the fucker was that pulled the trigger.”

Joanna glanced up at me, a question in her eyes. Could it have been Dirk Sewell?

If Detective Sewell had been there to search Portia’s apartment for something, it made sense that he’d have taken someone for backup. His brother, Dirk, was a crack shot and should have killed Hanson.

That said, the older detective had been a moving target in the dark. Perhaps because of that, Dirk had only managed to hit his chest rather than his head. If he’d seen Hanson go down, he might not have even realized his mistake.

“What’s going on, Lee?” Hanson asked tiredly. “What’s all this about?”

This time, she did take his hand. I checked the door to make sure it was firmly shut and nodded for her to share as much information as she thought he needed to know. He’d nearly bled out on a freezing cold fire escape because of this case. He deserved the truth.

“This is confidential,” she said quietly. “You can’t even tell Deborah. Understand?”

He snorted. “Wouldn’t be the first thing I haven’t told my wife.”

Joanna’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t reprimand him for the remark. “West is an undercover federal agent working on a task force to identify dirty cops in the employ of the Ortez crime syndicate.”

Realization dawned on Hanson’s face. “That’s why you didn’t kick him out after seeing him with the dancer. She’s an informant, isn’t she?”

“I can’t comment on the status of anyone who may or may not be a federal intelligence asset,” I said.

“Right.” He clearly saw the ass-covering statement for what it was. “So, Sewell is getting paid off by Ortez.”

“We believe so,” Joanna confirmed. “As are a number of others, most likely including Detective Ireland. The operation is massive. Not restricted to our district. Unfortunately, this whole thing has botched it a bit.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Denny…” She dragged his name out as if unsure how to go on.

He grunted. “What?”

“No one ever tried to recruit you to work for Ortez, did they?”

His expression didn’t change. “If they did, they were sneaky about it. No one ever came right out and asked me if I was willing to accept bribes to betray everything we stand for.”

She released his hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Detective Neal didn’t ever invite you to the Red Door?”

His forehead furrowed. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Humor me.”

“Yeah. Clancy invited me to a strip club, although he never said what it was called. I turned him down.” He scrunched his nose. “What do I need with barely legal strippers when I have Deborah at home?”

The tension slipped out of Joanna’s shoulders. I knew it had been weighing heavily on her, wondering whether Hanson was involved. Especially after reading Sasha’s diary. But Chicago was a big city, and there were plenty of older male detectives with wives. It could have been any of them.

Hanson turned to me. “So, what happens with your operation now?”

A throat cleared in the doorway. We all snapped around. Whoever was there had approached so silently, none of us had noticed.

Adam stood with his hands in his pockets, one eyebrow raised. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that question. After all, I’m sure that no federal agent would ever communicate the details of a secret operation to anyone not cleared to know about it. Right, West?”

I stared at him flatly. Once, his tone might have made me nervous, but after the way he’d left us without support when we needed it, I wasn’t inclined to care what he thought.

Adam’s thin lips twisted into a smirk. “In fact, we’ll consider me forgetting this conversation to be the first part of my apology for not having your back, shall we?”

I blinked, startled. It was eerie how he seemed to know what was going on inside my head. “I didn’t hear an actual apology.”

He nodded. “Good point. I’m sorry, West. I hesitated, and as a result, you and Detective Lee were endangered.”

No apology would make up for the terror I’d experienced when Sewell had plunged the knife into Joanna’s shoulder, but I knew it was the best I’d get from Adam. I just had to hope he wouldn’t pursue disciplinary action after how much had gone wrong in the past couple of weeks.

“Would you like to know what the second part of the apology is?” he asked, striding farther into the room.

“What?” Honestly, I just wanted him to get to the point .

“An update.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Not to be repeated outside this room.”

Joanna pivoted her chair to face him, and I circled around so I remained at her back. “Tell us.”

Adam eyeballed her, but I couldn’t tell from his blank expression what he was thinking. “Over a dozen arrests have been made this morning, including those of Charles and Dirk Sewell, who were found in possession of a rifle with the same type of ammunition used to shoot Detectives Conti, Neal, and Hanson. I expect ballistics to confirm the connection. He will likely serve a life sentence.”

The air vacated my lungs. My vision swam as tears filled my eyes.

The man who’d killed my father had been arrested. He was going to prison.

Thank God.

I’d finally be able to look Mamma in the eye and tell her we’d found the man responsible and that he would pay for his crimes.

Joanna laid her hand over mine. “You okay?”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

“Charlie Sewell isn’t talking,” Adam continued. “But your friend there is willing to testify that he was inside Portia Lowry’s apartment prior to any missing persons report being made.”

“Good riddance,” Hanson muttered.

“We also suspect that Sewell told Ortez that Neal was becoming a liability, and that’s why he was killed in such a public manner—to send a message to others to be more careful. Not that he’ll likely admit as much,” Adam added.

“Do you think the scare tactic would have worked if everything else hadn’t gone off the rails?” Joanna asked.

Adam’s smirk deepened. “I don’t know. But given that one of the arrested policemen—a homicide detective named Hamilton—is singing like a canary, it clearly isn’t working now. Hamilton claims to have been pressured into bedding a prostitute and subsequently blackmailed with the threat of losing his job and his marriage if he didn’t help.”

Joanna’s dark eyes met mine and a silent understanding passed between us. We’d have to check a photo of the detective to see if he matched the description, but it seemed likely he was the one we’d mistakenly believed might be Hanson.

“Personally, I think he was as tempted by the payoff as he was driven by the blackmail.” Adam’s upper lip curled scornfully. “But that’s for a jury to decide. The point is, he’s naming as many names as he possibly can, and he’s provided a written statement that he overheard Ortez admit to killing Sasha Sloane when he discovered that she was keeping a written record of his confidences in her.”

Joanna exhaled sharply. “I guess that’s that then. Did he know about the baby?”

Adam shrugged. “Hamilton didn’t mention it. With how early the pregnancy was, it’s possible even Sasha herself didn’t know. Nevertheless, we’re hoping we can put pressure on Ortez now and get him to cough up the names of any bad seeds remaining within our ranks.”

“Looks like you’ve got your collar,” I murmured to Joanna.

Deal or no deal, Ortez wouldn’t walk free when faced with a homicide charge. Although I wasn’t as confident as Adam seemed to be that he’d give up his police assets to protect himself. Men like him did well in prison. He probably wanted them in place so he could continue running things from behind bars.

“Is Ortez ours?” Joanna asked Adam. “Or have the feds taken him?”

He grinned. “We’ll let you lead the charge with the homicide conviction while we put together a case. ”

She nodded, obviously pleased. The pieces were coming together nicely. All except…

Shit.

“Portia,” I gasped. “Has there been any sign of her?”

Joanna’s eyes widened, and I could tell that with all the excitement of the past hours, the confidential informant had somehow slipped off her radar too.

But Adam just laughed. “Miss Lowry is safe and sound. She went to ground after one of Ortez’s men tried to abduct her off the street. She lost her phone during the altercation and was afraid to return to any of her usual haunts in case they were waiting for her there, so she slept rough in a homeless encampment and then, when the sun rose, returned to her apartment to find it overrun with police.”

“She’s okay?” I may not know Portia well as a person, but she’d gone above and beyond as an informant, and she’d been a loyal friend to Sasha. That said a lot about her character.

“Fine,” Adam assured me. “Smudged makeup, a bit tired, but unharmed. It seems she can run like a gazelle when she has to.”

I chuckled, my heart lightening. “Of course she can.”

No doubt she’d had to run many times in her life—although probably usually from the police rather than to them.

Adam’s expression sobered as his gaze landed on Joanna. “Detectives Lee and Hanson, I’m sorry to be the one to break the news, but Captain Gordon Thackery is one of the names that have come up during the course of our interviews. Captain Thackery has been suspended from the force pending a full investigation.”

“Oh.” Joanna’s face fell. “We knew it was a possibility, but I’d hoped we were being paranoid. Poor Beth. She’ll be distraught. ”

I turned my hand over to lace my fingers with hers. “She’ll need a friend.”

She nodded. “I suppose she will. Provided she didn’t know about it.”

Adam laughed heartily. “You don’t have to worry about that. I listened in when they broke the news. She was irate. God, I wouldn’t want that woman on my bad side.” He glanced between us, apparently done dropping bombshells, at least for now. “I’ll leave you to it. But… uh… if you two want to have any personal conversations, you’d better do it soon. You won’t get a moment of rest after this.”

He spun on the heel of his expensive Italian leather boot and sauntered out.

“I hope I never meet that man again,” Joanna said distastefully. “There’s just something about him I don’t like.”

I had to agree with her there. Adam had his moments, but they were few and far between.

“Damn fed,” Hanson cursed.“But Thackery? Really?”

Before anyone could respond, there was a light knock on the door behind us, and then Deborah entered. Her bright blue eyes lit as she broke into a smile.

“Joanna,” she said warmly, rushing toward us and bending to scoop Joanna into a motherly hug.

I got out of the way.

“I can’t thank you enough for saving my Denny,” Deborah said.

Joanna awkwardly patted her back. “He’s tough. He’d have been fine without me.”

Both Hansons scoffed.

Deborah drew back, her hands on Joanna’s shoulders. “Let me cook you dinner later this week so I can thank you properly.”

Joanna softened. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

“Let the girl go, Debs,” Hanson grumbled. “She and her man need to have a conversation before they’re swamped with paperwork.” The sly old dog winked at me. “Better make it a good chat.”

Joanna rose to her feet, and immediately, nerves riddled my gut, and I recalled how anxious I’d been when we’d arrived. Speaking with Adam and Hanson had distracted me, but there was still every possibility that Joanna could leave me in her dust now that my role in our operation was over.

“Take care of him,” Joanna told Deborah. She waved and headed out of the room.

I followed behind, feeling remarkably as if I was marching to my doom. I needed to get ahead of this. I couldn’t take a back seat. There was an unmarked door to our left, so I tried the handle. It opened onto a small storage closet. I grabbed Joanna’s hand and pulled her inside.

I took her other hand, so I was holding both, and gazed into her eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything.” I wished I could kiss her, but I didn’t dare cross that line right now. “You’ve been through a lot and it’s all my fault. You’re officially free of me now, if you want to be, but I hope you’ll let me prove to you that I really do love you. I never lied about that, and my feelings for you haven’t wavered.”

My instincts were screaming at me to keep talking because as long as she stayed silent, she couldn’t actively reject me, but I forced myself to be quiet and give her a chance to speak, even as my heart hammered against my ribs threatening to break free.

To my surprise, she smiled and returned the pressure of my grip. “Whatever the personal consequences, we did something good. That’s what my job is about. Maybe I’d have preferred our relationship not start the way it did—”

I snorted. That was an understatement. But I shut up when she arched her eyebrows.

“But I know in my heart that you’re a good man and you were trying to do what was right in a difficult situation,” she continued. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and my muscles tightened in response. “The thing is, I never stopped loving you, even when I felt like I didn’t know you. Even when I wanted to hate you. That’s why your betrayal hurt so much.”

“Jo, I—”

She disentangled her hand from mine and pressed her finger to my lips. “Shh. Let me get this out.” She drew in a deep breath then released it. “I want to try being with you for real, but we’re not keeping up the facade of being married. Let’s date again.”

My heart swelled. “You mean it?”

She nodded, her lip caught between her teeth. “Don’t lie to me or I’ll end you.”

“I won’t.” I cupped her face between my hands and kissed her. She tasted of everything I loved. If I could bottle this moment up and make it last forever, I would. But then I’d miss out on a lifetime with her, and that seemed like a terrible loss.

Her lips curved against mine.

“What are you smiling about?” I asked.

Her smile widened. “Just wondering how I’m going to explain all this to my māma.”

I groaned. “She’s going to gut me.”

Māma Lee may be tiny, but she was scary as hell when she was mad.

“Could we just… not mention it?” I pleaded.

Joanna’s eyes gleamed evilly. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Fine.” I slumped my shoulders. “I guess you deserve to have your fun.”

“Damn right I do.” Her smile changed into something softer, and she kissed me again. “But at the end of the day, we’ll make it work, right?”

I kissed her beautiful face, silently thanking whatever fates had brought us together. “Absolutely.”

“Then that’s all that matters.” With one hand still linked to mine, she pushed open the closet door and we stepped out, startling an orderly who was scurrying past. “Shall we sneak home and take a nap before Dominguez calls me?”

“Only if I can hold you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to be so cheesy.”

I flashed her my teeth. “You love it.”

She didn’t reply, but her secret smile told me more than words.

We took the elevator to the ground floor, but as we were passing reception, a familiar figure came into view. Short, slightly plump, and with a voice they could probably hear the next ward over.

“Mamma!” I exclaimed.

Joanna’s eyes widened. “Mamma?” she echoed.

Mamma swung toward us. “Weston! There you are.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and my gut dropped. “All I’ve been trying to do is see my son and these ridiculous people wouldn’t tell me where you were.”

I opened my arms, and she threw herself into them. I caught her and she squeezed me so tightly I winced, my battered body instinctively recoiling.

“Ow, Mamma. Careful.”

She pulled away, horrified. “My poor baby. You’re hurt.” But before she could fuss over me, she finally noticed Joanna, and her worried frown vanished. “Is this my new daughter?”

I bent to kiss her cheek. “Yes, Mamma. This is Joanna. She’s a detective in the Chicago PD. Jo, this is my mamma, Fiorella Conti. ”

Mamma reached for Joanna, but then stopped. “You’re hurt too. Santa cielo, what on earth happened?” She didn’t give either of us time to explain. “No, don’t tell me yet. I’m taking both of you home. I was married to a detective. I know what you need. Rest and a good meal.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Conti,” Joanna said.

Mamma waved her hand dismissively. “None of that. You can call me Fio or Mamma. Now, come along.”

She bustled toward the exit.

Joanna looked at me. “What just happened?”

I stifled a laugh. “My mother adopted you. Come on. Let her fuss over you a little.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “I like her.”

“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “She likes you too.”

“Yes,” Mamma called over her shoulder. “I do.”

We both laughed, and warmth unfurled in my chest as I took Joanna’s hand again. For the first time, I didn’t have to yearn for a future with her that I’d never get to have. She may not be my wife in truth, but one day soon, she would be.