For You (The 'Burg Series) (50 page)

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Authors: Kristen Ashley

BOOK: For You (The 'Burg Series)
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Belligerence gone, Ryan instantly was back to eye avoidance. “No DVDs.”

“Who’re you protectin’, Ryan?” Warren, back at the wall, entered the interrogation.

“There aren’t any DVDs,” Ryan lied.

“All right,” Nowakowski sat back, rested his elbows in his stomach and steepled his fingers, “Ryan, I want you to look at me.” Nowakowski waited patiently as Ryan plucked up the courage to lift his gaze and this took awhile. He delivered the blow when he had Ryan’s full attention. “Mr. Dennis Lowe is wanted for the murders of four people. He hacked them up with a hatchet, the first victim, his wife, was almost unidentifiable, left a finger intact, the wedding ring he put on it telling us who she was. The other three he started at the groin and hacked up to the heart, near to splitting them in two. You gotta know about one of them since you had to see February Owens call the discovery of the body into the police and you watched Lieutenant Colton question her in the bar. Now, you can sit there, Ryan, and protect whoever you’re protecting and become an accessory to multiple murders or you can tell us who you handed those DVDs.”

Ryan’s mouth was hanging open, jaw completely slack, so much Colt was surprised drool didn’t slide from his lip.

Then he snapped it shut and rolled over immediately. “Candy Sheckle.”

Nowakowski’s eyes went to Warren but Warren was already leaving the room.

Then Nowakowski looked back at Ryan. “You know Candy?” Ryan nodded. “Tell me, Ryan.”

“She’s a girl.”

“Guessin’, with the name of Candy, she would be.”
 

“She’s a kind of… friend.”

“Girlfriend?”

Ryan shook his head, heat hitting his face, making the pimples now nearly red. He wanted her to be, whoever Candy fucking Sheckle was, but he couldn’t have her.

“No, just a friend.”

“What kind of friend?”

“I help her out.”

Nowakowski took his elbows from his stomach, unsteepled his fingers and sat forward.

“Ryan, I got all the time in the world. The problem is, Mr. Lowe has shared with us he’s intending to kill two more people and
their
time is runnin’ out. I’d appreciate it if you’d stop making this so hard so we can get on with our job and, maybe, save a couple of lives.”

Ryan stared for a second then nodded. “She’s a stripper. At Girls X.” He put up his hand and offered information Nowakowski didn’t ask for but Ryan felt necessary to give. “She’s not like that. A lotta strippers, well, I don’t know anyone other than Candy, and her real name isn’t Candy, it’s Cheryl, but anyway… people think strippers are skanks but she’s not. She’s real nice. She’s got a kid and she wants him to grow up in a good neighborhood so she works real hard. She’s um… she brought this Lowe guy to me. See, I used to help her out, go to the club, give her good tips and maybe a little on the side. But then she got hooked up with Lowe and, seein’ as she’s sweet, she told me to keep my money, she’s got a boyfriend who takes care of her now and he’s a good guy, a cop. So, you know, I was gonna talk to her when you let me go, but um… I’m thinkin’ you should probably do it now.”

“We should,” Nowakowski affirmed, straight-faced and how he didn’t laugh or even crack a smile Colt would never know. “So you gave her the DVDs?”

Ryan nodded then sat forward, eye contact back, earnest now. “Candy, she’s gonna freak. She likes him, thinks he’s a good guy, thinks we’re doin’ right. And really, stripper or not, she’s nice. Seriously. Maybe you could be… um, gentle with her. Okay?”

“We’ll take care of Candy, Ryan.”

Colt looked at Sully and they both walked from the room.

“Bet you a thousand dollars Candy Sheckle’s the spittin’ image of Feb,” Sully said as they headed down the hall to the bullpen.

“I’m puttin’ a security system in today, Sul, not gonna take a foolish bet,” Colt replied and caught Warren’s eye as they got to the bullpen. “Name’s Cheryl, not Candy,” he told Warren who was on the phone.

“That would be Cheryl Sheckle,” Warren said into the phone.

“Cheryl Sheckle, shit, her parents musta hated her,” Sully muttered.

Colt stopped by his desk and leaned a hip against it. Sully stopped with him.

“Okay, Sully, breakin’ this shit down, where the fuck are we now?” Colt asked. “Months before the murders, he’s got a whole operation set up to spy on Feb and me. He’s impersonating me, insinuated himself into two lives, both of which cost him big money. When did the withdrawals start?”

“Last coupla months.”

“But he’s been workin’ this shit for six.”

“I’ll go back over the statements. See if other withdrawals increased.”

“My advice?” Colt offered. “Get Marie’s too. I reckon she had her own account, money from her parents. And talk to her neighbor again. See if Marie told her she was giving him money.”

“Christ, you think he took his wife’s money to keep his girl on the side and set up a Feb Watch?” Sully asked.

“I think he’d do anything,” Colt answered. “He’s a man without a moral compass, Sully. Drug me, okay, I’m a big guy, I can take it and get mine back if I have that inclination. Feb? She’s got me, Morrie, Jack, Jackie, an army of support. Amy? Puck? Total innocents. Defenseless. He mowed through them and when he brought low Amy, Craig said the fucker
laughed
.”

Sully got close and his voice got quiet. “Speakin’ of that, I had a talk with Nowakowski before he went in. Explained a few things. He’s considerin’ helpin’, if you ask, see if he can find a way to bypass some channels, you find out that adoption Amy fixed was closed.”

Colt didn’t want to talk about this, not now, and he didn’t want Sully talking about it to anyone either.

“Sully –”

Sully lifted up his hand. “That’s another night, another bottle of Jack, I know. Just sayin’.”

Colt felt his blood start heating. “You think I should approach a twenty-one year old kid and let him know he’s the product of… whatever the fuck?”

“I think you’re my partner and a damn good friend and if you decide you want to find your boy, I’ll do whatever I can to help. That’s what I think, nothin’ more, nothin’ less.”

“What I think is that enough of this shit is spreadin’ around,” Colt said. “Amy’s dead and everyone knows her as a quiet, good woman. She doesn’t need that coloring anybody’s memory of her.”

Sully shook his head. “That won’t happen. Craig’s promised to keep it quiet and you know anyone else who knows will. Including Nowakowski.”

“All right, Sully, all I’m askin’ is, you just keep it that way.”

“To the grave,” Sully promised, lifting his hand like he was taking an oath.

“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass,” Colt told him and meant it. Sully could definitely be a pain in the ass.

“A pain in the ass that helped score multiple counts of unlawful entry on the sick fuck who’s makin’ your and Feb’s life a livin’ hell, not to mention whatever else we can pin on him through that shit,” Sully grinned. “I’m thinkin’ a nice shot of single malt from you, or two, and an invitation to sit in on Feb’s next frittata.”

“Feb’ll make you a frittata every day for a year, you find this guy.”
 

Sully kept grinning. “Once is enough, every day’s too much of a good thing.”

He was wrong, he hadn’t had her frittata.

Then again, if Colt had it every morning then when would he have her stuffed French toast?

* * * * *

Colt was walking back to the Station from a very ticked off Mimi’s with his muffin in a white bag and his Americano when his phone rang. He shifted the bag into the same hand as the coffee, yanked out his phone and saw the display said “Feb Calling”.

He flipped it open one-handed and put it to his ear.

“Yeah baby.”

“You owe me.”

Her voice came at him, husky and still full of sleep. She’d called him first thing after waking up, her mind on what she did to him with her mouth. That knowledge and the sound of her voice hit him direct in the gut and scored straight down to his dick.

She was right, he did. He owed her big.

That was why he smiled into the phone, stopped at the foot of the steps to the Station, dropped his bag and set his coffee on the stone balustrade.

“You just wake up?” Colt asked.

“Yeah, after you hit the shower, I slept clean through until Chip started banging away.” She didn’t sound pissed. She sounded slightly surprised though he’d only hit the shower three hours ago.

“Sorry about that, honey. New locks. New alarm.”

“That’s okay,” she said softly.

He took a sip of his coffee, waiting for her to say more, she didn’t so he asked, “There a reason you’re callin’?”

“Yeah, I’m running out of clothes. Is it okay if Dad or Morrie take me to my place to pick up more?”

Yes, it’s fucking okay,
he thought.

“Sure,” he said then warned, “but honey, it was swept. It’s probably gonna be a little less than your usual clean.”

“Great,” she muttered.

“Then again,” Colt teased, wanting to take her mind off it, “most operating rooms are less than your usual clean.”

“I like order,” she replied, “especially when my life is chaos.”

“Bullshit, Feb,” Colt kept teasing. “You’re Jackie Owens’s daughter. You like order all the fucking time.”

“Something wrong with that?” she asked, now getting pissed. She always hated being teased which meant he used to do it a lot because she was cute when she was pissed, that was only when it was under his control.

“Nope, nothin’ wrong with that,” Colt answered.

She hesitated then called, “Colt?” like he wasn’t on the phone with her but she was trying to catch his attention.

“I’m right here.”

“Um… would you mind if I…” another pause then quickly, “clear a drawer and maybe… commandeer a few hangers?”

Fucking hell, she wanted to move her shit in and Colt felt that in his gut too.

“You know, so I don’t have to live out of a bag?” she finished on a rush.

“Take as much room as you need,” Colt paused too and then said, “and bring over as much shit as you want.”

Feb was silent a moment before she said softly, “Okay, babe.” Then she asked, “What’s your day gonna bring?”

“So far, it’s brought more dirt on Denny, I’ll tell you about it tonight.”

“They closer?” she asked.

“Closin’ in.”

“Thank God,” she whispered then, her voice stronger, “since I had an unscheduled day off yesterday, I need to be at the bar tonight. You wanna meet me there for dinner? Frank’s. On me.”

“You’re on. Six o’clock.”

“You want me to tell Darryl you want a tenderloin so you’ll maybe get a burger?”

He smiled into the phone before he said, “Why don’t we try a patty melt, see what that brings?”

He heard her laughter coming at him through the phone.

You made her laugh, she doesn’t do that much
.

He heard Ryan’s words through Feb’s laughter. Ryan was right, it was true, Feb didn’t laugh much. Not for years and only genuinely with Palmer and Tuesday. She’d been doing it a lot more recently, mostly with him.

“Patty Melt Mystery Dinner it is,” she cut into his thoughts after she stopped laughing. “Six o’clock. Shit!” she said suddenly, he heard the phone jostle and her far away shout. “Yeah, I’m up! Be out in a sec.” Then she came back to him. “That’s Dad, he says he wants to be briefed as to why Chip’s here.” She laughed softly again before saying, “Colt, babe, he actually used the word
briefed.
” Colt laughed with her the second time before she finished hurriedly and distractedly. “Better go
brief
Dad. See you later, love you, babe.”

Colt froze and just managed to force out a “Later, baby,” before Feb disconnected.

See you later, love you, babe.

That was how she would end every phone conversation they had which were daily when she wasn’t up visiting on a weekend when she was at home and he was at Purdue.

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