Ground Zero, page 27
part #1 of Zero Hour Series
Marla sobbed. “Stop saying that, baby. Of course I don’t want you to get caught and go to prison. I only want to be with you. Surely someone as smart as you can find a way for us to be together.”
“I will, baby. I promise. I need a little something from you now. Touch yourself and let me hear it.” Marla responded with a long moan that made both men pull the earbuds out of their ears.
“Jacobs, is there anything important after the phone sex?” Sawyer asked.
The PI grinned wryly. “Just Wayne promising to call back with a plan for them to be together.”
“I don’t want to know how you illegally recorded these conversations, but I do want to know when it occurred,” Locke told him.
“Last Wednesday,” Jacobs replied. “Marla attended church then came home and committed several sins with Wayne over the phone.”
“Have there been more calls since then?”
“No more phone calls, but my three partners and I have been taking turns tailing Marla to see if we can detect any changes in her activities.”
“And,” Sawyer prodded.
“She’s received a floral bouquet every day this week, which is highly unusual according to gossip one of my partners heard when he got his car serviced yesterday. We knew what time Marla took her lunch, so he scheduled his appointment during that time. The lady who covers Marla’s lunch breaks isn’t her biggest fan.”
Locke leaned forward. “I don’t suppose your partner happened to get a peek at the card that arrived with the bouquet.”
“He didn’t need to because the gal he spoke to was so helpful. Marla claimed the flowers were from a new guy. Deidre, being curious and concerned after the last disaster—her words, not ours—checked one of the cards to see who had sent them. She said there were just a few random words typed on the card.”
Sawyer’s heart sped up. “Did she remember what they were?”
“Not all of them, but she did remember seeing Kentucky.”
“She’s going to him,” Locke said. “He can’t come back here, but he can meet her.”
Jacobs nodded. “Marla left her mama’s house at her normal time this morning, but she didn’t go to work. She headed north on the 404.”
Locke growled low in his throat. “Son of a bitch. She merged on to US 17 and crossed into South Carolina.”
“Did she take luggage?” Sawyer asked.
“She parks in the garage so she could’ve filled her trunk with personal belongings, and we wouldn’t have known. I put in a request for my buddy to ping her phone. We’ll be able to track her.”
“Unless she tosses the phone for a burner,” Locke pointed out.
“We also have eyes on Miller. If he moves, we’ll know it,” Jacobs said. “We’ll nab them when they meet up away from the compound. Miller won’t have her drive up to the gate and ring a buzzer. Even if he wanted to, the Brethren wouldn’t allow it.”
“What the fuck are we supposed to take to our chief, Jacobs? We have a sex tape, flowers with fragmented words we think spell out a rendezvous point, and Marla heading north. Did the flowers come from a local florist where you might be able to sweet-talk them into revealing what the other cards said?”
“Ordered online with a prepaid card. Hear me out,” Jacobs said when Sawyer and Locke grumbled. “I’m working on the florist angle. My partner does know which service he used, and I know people who are really good with computers.” Meaning a hacker. “I should have the information for you this afternoon as well as the pings to confirm her location.”
“You want us to take the information you gained illegally to our chief and hope she’ll send us north to intervene?” Sawyer looked at Locke. “Can you imagine that call to the Marshals service?”
Locke didn’t look at Sawyer or acknowledge his question; he kept staring at Jacobs. “It better be one hell of a convincing anonymous tip to the hotline this time.”
“Keep your personal cell handy,” Jacobs told Sawyer before he stood up and left them alone.
Locke rose from his chair and started walking away. Sawyer rose and swiftly followed. “You’re willing to put our careers on the line based on what Jacobs has given us?”
Locke stopped suddenly and pivoted to face Sawyer. Unprepared for it, Sawyer nearly stumbled into him. He caught a whiff of cheap perfume and realized it was the annoying scent he’d detected in the café.
“I trust my gut, and it tells me Marla has had a change of heart and wants to be with her man. This might be our best chance of catching him. So, yeah, I want more concrete evidence to show the chief before we go get him.”
“We?” Sawyer asked. “You think she’s going to send us to Kentucky?”
“She might not let us join the task force that apprehends him, but if the Marshals can’t bring him back to Georgia for any reason, she’ll send us to go get him. I wouldn’t make any big plans this weekend.” Locke turned around and strode off without another word.
The hurt, confusion, and disappointment that had been simmering for two weeks started to boil over and become full-blown rage. By the time he reached the precinct, he was spoiling for a fight. Locke wasn’t at his desk, but he knew where to find him.
The locker room was empty because the shift change was about to occur, and Locke was the only one dragging his ass. Locke’s motorcycle helmet and a backpack sat on the bench in front of his locker. Sawyer didn’t find his partner in the open showering area but heard water running in one of the private stalls. Locke had chosen the one farthest away from anyone who entered the area. Sawyer stood on the other side of the curtain, feeling like the worst kind of pervert, but he fucking needed answers. He was done waiting.
“Glad you found me, Key. You can wash my back. Give me a minute though to finish up. Unless you want to watch like you did the night I stayed at your house. I left the door open on purpose to rile you up,” Locke said snidely, making Sawyer see red. He yanked the curtain hard to make the metal shower curtain rings screech across the bar. He took one look at Locke, and his anger died.
He stood beneath the spray with his head hung forward in a pose resembling shame. Locke’s posture was so shockingly different from his gloating tone that it took Sawyer a moment to notice the bruises marring his partner’s perfect body. Some contusions were older and yellowish green in color while others were new and mottled red or violet blue against his skin. Locke slowly lifted his head and met Sawyer’s gaze, and utter devastation stared back at him. Wounded.
He temporarily forgot the revelation Locke had dropped at his feet, hoping to push him away, and focused on the tears streaming down his partner’s face. Sawyer ached to step beneath the spray—consequences be damned—and take Locke in his arms to console him over… What? Locke had shut him out so completely he had no clue what was going on, but for something to cut him this deep, it had to involve Marcus.
“Enough is enough,” Sawyer said firmly. “You’ve been distant, cold, and downright hateful to me for nearly two weeks. You show up late and disappear whenever it pleases you. Today you reek of sweat and cheap perfume and are covered in bruises. You’re going to tell me what’s going on, Locke.”
Locke scrubbed the tears from his face. “I just need some time to process things.”
“Time’s up, Royce.”
Locke closed his eyes and shivered like he was freezing, even though hot water sent steam billowing between them. “Not here, okay?”
“You have twenty-five minutes to wash the stench off and pull yourself together. Then we’re going to run down leads which is code for getting this bullshit out in the open.”
Locke’s lips quirked on one end. “You’re kind of hot when you’re bossy.”
You should see me in bed, Sawyer thought. “I’m fucking hot all the time, and you know it. Tick tock. Twenty-four minutes now. I will drag you out by your—”
“Okay,” Locke said, raising his hands palms up. “Save the kinky shit for when we’re alone.”
Twenty-one minutes later, they pulled out of the station with Sawyer behind the wheel. “Tell me everything.”
“Where are we going?”
“We really are chasing down a lead.”
“Where? Who?” Locke asked. Sawyer could tell he was desperate to avoid the conversation, but Sawyer wasn’t budging.
“You’ll find out when we get there. Talk, Royce.”
Locke heaved a heavy sigh. “Do you remember the call I got from Candi that prompted me to show up drunk at your door?”
“How could I forget?”
“Do you also remember Candi stopping by the bullpen to say hello that same morning?”
Sawyer nodded. “She said she was on her way to see someone in human resources because they hadn’t paid out any of Marcus’s benefits.”
“Yeah,” Locke said tersely. “The human resources rep was very vague with her and wouldn’t give any information. When Candi called me that evening, it was because IA had just shown up at her door with a search warrant.”
“Internal affairs? Why? They thought Marcus was dirty?”
“I drove straight over there, of course, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. The assholes had uniformed officers bar me from entering the house or even speaking to Candi while they interviewed her.”
“Because they think you’re dirty too?”
“That’s what I thought, but Officer Dykstra told me they’d already cleared me,” Locke said. “I asked what they thought Marcus had done, but they refused to share the smallest detail with me.”
“Did they take anything from his home?”
“Their computers and a few boxes of paperwork that Candi said were their personal finances and tax returns. If they find out he was dirty, they’ll find a way not to pay out his benefits to her.”
“She’ll get an attorney and fight it.”
“With what money?” Locke asked. “She can barely afford to cover the bills on her own. Marcus handled the finances, and she had no idea they’d racked up so much credit card debt.”
“If they’re broke, then he probably wasn’t on the take. It’s usually the other way around and cops have unexplained wealth.” Sawyer glanced over at Locke. “I understand why you were so upset that night, but what’s happened since then to justify your behavior lately?” Sawyer stiffened when he realized the answer. “You’ve been doing some digging on your own. That’s why you and Stein were acting so secretive.”
“You really don’t like her, do you?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I like her just fine, but that doesn’t change the facts. I saw you guys sitting in her car in the parking lot a few times, plus she showed up at some of our crime scenes unexpectedly. I’m guessing those mysterious calls were from her too.”
“Jealous?”
“It didn’t feel sexual. I’ve been around Stein enough to know she doesn’t reek of cheap perfume.”
“I’ll be sure to pass along your high praise,” Locke said drolly.
“Tell me the truth, Royce. Is Stein using her undercover connections to help you find out if Marcus was dirty?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
Locke blew out a shaky breath, and Sawyer’s heart fell. Locke had found something out—recently if the bruises and tears in the shower were any indications. “I don’t know if Marcus was dirty yet, but I did discover something that blew my world apart.”
What could be worse than finding out he was a dirty cop? Then the truth slammed into Sawyer with the force of a sledgehammer. “Marcus was having an affair.”
“I knew he and Candi were having marital problems. They’d been fighting a lot, especially after Candi got pregnant with Bailey. She wanted more kids, but Marcus didn’t, and he’d accused her of getting pregnant on purpose. Candi swore she hadn’t, but I don’t think he believed her. She had been convinced Marcus would come around once Bailey was born, but it wasn’t the miracle she thought it would be. It drove a bigger wedge between them, but Candi was determined to make their marriage work.” Locke growled and punched the dashboard nearly hard enough to crack it. “He swore up and down he still loved Candi and was committed to his marriage. He lied to me, Sawyer. Fucking lied right to my face.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“I worked the leads Holly found for me and tracked her down. She’s a stripper at The Alley Cat, which is a suspected front for seedier activities. Let’s just say the owner didn’t like me showing up there last night asking questions. He emphasized with every blow he’d landed just how angry he was that I’d made Crystal cry so hard she couldn’t perform for the rest of the night. I tried to point out I’d paid good money for a few lap dances while asking my questions, but he said it was a drop in the bucket compared to what she usually brought in nightly.”
“You’d think a popular girl like that would wear nicer perfume,” Sawyer managed to say like it was no big deal, even though he wanted his turn at punching the dashboard.
“Now all I have to show for my trouble is five hundred fewer dollars in my wallet, a busted-up body, and a bruised heart after finding out Marcus isn’t the man I thought he was.”
“How’d the owner get the drop on you? Catch you by surprise?” Sawyer asked, recalling there were no defensive bruises or cuts on Locke’s hands.
“You could say that,” his partner said sheepishly. “I should’ve known better when Crystal brought out the handcuffs during part of her lap dance. I thought she was just emphasizing the ‘no hands’ rules. I was distracted.”
Sawyer snorted. “I bet.”
“Not for the reason you’re thinking.” Locke paused and added, “Well, partially for that reason, but I was thrown more by hearing Marcus lived a double life. They’d dated for three fucking years, Sawyer. Three years. I never knew it. No one who knew Marcus would ever suspect he was unfaithful to Candi. He was the epitome of a perfect husband and father.”
“And you’re wondering what other secrets Marcus kept or what else you or Candi didn’t see,” Sawyer said.
“Exactly. I want to rage and make accusations about IA harassing Candi, but I can’t. While I’m not their biggest fan, I’ve never known them to be wrong when they’ve suspected a cop is shady. Dykstra is an arrogant asshole, but he’s a straight shooter. He didn’t have to tell me I’d been investigated and cleared.”
“True, or he might’ve told you that because he wants you to relax so he can catch you in the act.”
“There’s no act to catch me in.”
“What about me? Why’d you push me away?” He thought he knew but needed to hear Locke say it. Sawyer wished he could be looking in his eyes when he answered.
“I knew Marcus since we were little kids, Sawyer. The part I neglected to include in my big spiel on the day we met was that Marcus was my first crush and case of unrequited love. I eventually got over it, and he became my best friend and the person I trusted most in the world. He loved me as much as he was capable of, and it was enough for me because he wasn’t supposed to be mine. Not like that, anyway.”
“You didn’t have to tell me that, Royce. I heard the truth in your voice.”
Locke released a deep breath, and it sounded a lot like relief. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the weekend he died. I’ve asked myself a thousand times how I couldn’t see he was despondent or calling out for help in some way. How could I know him but not see any of these things? I didn’t know about the affair, or potential shady shit on the force, and I didn’t know he thought Candi, the kids, his family, and I would be better off without him. If I was so blind to him, how could I trust my judgment when it came to someone I’d only known for a few days? As much as I wanted to hate your existence, I couldn’t.” His soul is speaking to yours. “Trust is something I’m struggling to come by right now.”
Sawyer longed to reach over and squeeze his hand or pat his leg to reassure him. “You seemed okay at my house on Saturday.”
“I still felt like it was just a big misunderstanding then. It was only a few days after the raid, and I was convinced Stein would do some digging and clear Marcus’s name.”
“That wasn’t what happened?” Sawyer asked gently.
“Stein called me after I left your place. She couldn’t definitively say Marcus was or wasn’t dirty, but there were rumors. I started pulling strings and following leads that weekend which eventually led me to Crystal and The Alley Cat last night.”
This was a truth Sawyer could work with. He could be patient while Locke realized he was trustworthy. Or he could prove it. “I’ll help you uncover the truth.”
“I can’t ask—”
Sawyer banged his fist on the steering wheel. “You didn’t. I’m telling you.”
“So bossy.”
“You should see me in bed.”
Locke moaned and shifted in his seat, which triggered Sawyer to do the same. Suddenly, the air-conditioning in the car seemed to be insufficient to battle the rising temperatures inside the Charger.
“What about the older bruises?” Sawyer asked, steering their conversation back on course. “Some of them are a week old or longer.”
Locke shrugged. “Family dinner that got out of hand last weekend. My punk-ass, kid brother said some shit I didn’t like, so we took it out in the yard.”
Sawyer laughed for the first time that morning. “Is that how your family always handles disagreements?”
“Pretty much.”
“Did you teach his punk ass a lesson?”
Locke chuckled. “Fuck, yes.” Then he looked at the house they’d stopped in front of. “Who lives here?”
“Marla’s mother. We’re going to ring the doorbell and tell her that her daughter didn’t show up for work.”
“We’re going to tattle on Marla to her mommy?” Locke asked incredulously.
