Finders Keepers Losers Die (18 page)

"See anything you like?"

I flushed to my roots. "Sorry."

He shrugged wide shoulders. "People like to
look. It gets the curiosity out of their system."

I was such a goddamn idiot sometimes. I
shouldn't have stared until his attention was focused elsewhere.
"So, you've avoided my question a second time. There a reason for
that?"

"I'm not avoiding it. I came to see you." He
slouched in his chair and studied me. "I heard about your apartment
and got worried. I wanted to talk to you but you gave a false
address so I had to come here."

"I didn't give a false address. I just
decided to stay at a friend's place instead of my mother's."

"This friend…is he a close friend?"

"
She
is my best friend, Gina. And if
you wanted to know if I had a boyfriend, you could have just
asked."

There was that smile again. "Cat, do you
have a boyfriend?"

"No." I'd already thought through my answer
so I didn't hesitate. Technically, Will wasn't my boyfriend. He
didn't even want Carl to know about us. And beyond the mind-blowing
sex, we didn't have much to base a proper relationship on. I was
only twenty-eight. Despite what my mother thought, I wasn't ready
to settle down. Besides, Will was seven years older than me. A
totally inappropriate age gap, really.
Huge
. Then there was
the fact that he was my boss. My very cranky boss.

Our coffees arrived, breaking the
awkwardness that had suddenly blanketed our corner of the café.
Scarface produced a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, took one
out and tapped it on the table, unlit. We'd both ordered strong
black coffees. Scarface didn't sugar his. He probably drank his
coffee that way all the time. I, on the other hand, wanted to get
rid of my nagging hangover, but I hated black coffee so I added
four cubes of sugar to kill the taste. I sipped it and made a face.
Too sweet, but the instant caffeine injection hit the spot.

"What did they tell you about the fire?" he
asked.

"That it started in my bedroom, and it was
suspicious."

He nodded, tapping his cigarette. "That's
why I'm now involved."

"I had wondered."

"Actually, Stankovic is involved, but I
insisted on this chat. His interrogation technique has a way of
working against him sometimes."

"No kidding. I wouldn't tell him anything if
my life depended on it." Which it probably did.

"When the arson squad filed their report,
your name came up in the database associated with the Scarletti
murder. They contacted Stankovic and myself. So here I am." He
leaned forward and crossed his arms on the table. His gaze softened
as he looked into my eyes. "So," his voice hummed across my skin,
"talk to me, Cat."

Wow, he was good. He made me feel like
everything would be okay if I told him what he wanted to know. I
really wanted to unburden myself, but if I told him about the box,
the key and the paper, they could become evidence in Lou's murder,
and I didn't want to lose my only clue to finding the jewelry. Not
yet. A few more days and then I'd hand it all over. Besides, the
jewels probably had nothing to do with Lou's murder. How could
they? They were Roberta's and I didn't see her as the murderer.

They say the best lies are borne from truth,
so I tried to weave as much of it as possible into my story. "As
you know, I was doing some surveillance on Lou for his wife."

He nodded.

"Well, she still wants me to follow up a few
loose ends, so I was doing some investigating on Saturday. Asking
some questions about his whereabouts, that sort of thing. Then I
noticed a car following me."

That got his attention. Scarface's eyebrows
rose. "Describe it."

"Dark. Sedan. Hard to tell. The weather was
terrible. I lost it about a block from home so I thought nothing
more of it. That night, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up in a
barbecue."

"Did you hear a noise? Someone trying to
break in?"

"No."

"Any thoughts on who would want to kill you
and why?"

A sliver of fear rushed down my spine.
"None. And I'm not sure they want me dead. Why set my place on
fire? Why not just climb in and stab me or shoot me where I
slept?"

He rubbed his hand over his stubble. "I
don't know."

We sat in silence with that thought hanging
between us. I'd already wondered about that question over and over
and come up with zip. It just didn't make sense.

"Try to keep away from your mother's," he
said. "If they figured out where you live, they can probably figure
out who your relatives are, or at least narrow it down. Stay with
your friend."

"And work?"

"Not so easy to trace." He thought for a
moment. "Does Knight Investigations have a website with your name
appearing anywhere?"

"No."

He rolled his eyes. "Knight really needs to
move into the twenty-first century."

"What, and skip the twentieth?"

Scarface laughed. "Cat, seriously. I can't
see any other way they can find out where you work."

Relief made me feel weak and a little silly.
I guess that explained why I asked my next question. "So, you and
Will. What's the story there?"

He focused on his cigarette, his usually
relaxed, fluid body now rigid and completely still. I held my
breath, afraid I'd crossed the line and severed any connection
between us before having a chance to explore it further.

"We used to work together," he said.

"I know that much." I kept my voice light to
encourage him. "Come on, tell me. You know what they say about
curiosity and the cat."

He locked eyes with me. He might have only
one but, boy, he used it effectively. It felt like he saw right
into me. Another little shiver ran along my spine, but it wasn't
unpleasant.

"So what do I get in return?" he asked.

Oh boy. "We'll work out payment later."

"You bet we will."

What the hell was I doing? Playing with two
men at once was bad, bad, bad. And definitely not something I'd
done before. I just hoped I didn't get caught out. Something told
me neither man liked to share.

"Several years ago," he said, "we were both
rookies on the force, working the beat. We'd known each other in
the academy. We weren't friends but there was a sort of camaraderie
between us. We were too competitive to be anything more. We spurred
each other on to be better. I'd be top of the class in one
exercise, then next week, he would be. We both graduated with top
honors.

"After that, we were assigned to different
jurisdictions and our paths didn't cross again until I got
transferred over this side. Our precincts were adjacent to each
other. One night, ten years ago, my partner and I heard the call go
out for a fatal shooting near the border of both jurisdictions. We
decided to check it out, even though technically it wasn't our
area. Knight was already there. He'd made detective a couple months
earlier.

"It started out easy enough. Looked like a
domestic—wife killed her husband after he'd beaten up on her.
Knight's team had already secured the site. Or so we all
thought.

"Funny thing about domestics. They have a
habit of turning nasty when you think they're cut and dried. Out of
the blue, there's another gunman. Turns out he was the boyfriend
but we didn't know it then. He fired at us, shoots down one of the
guys in uniform and generally goes nuts. Knight's in charge but
instead of calling us all back, he decides to go after the gunman
himself. We try to stop him but he wants to be a hero." Scarface
shrugged. "I know. Not something you'd associate with him now, from
what I hear, but I swear, back then, he wasn't one for following
the rule book. But he got results and that's all that mattered in
the end.

"Anyway, he's in and we hear gunshots. Call
me sentimental, but our academy rivalry had given us a connection.
I couldn't let the poor bastard do it alone. I went in after him. I
found him bleeding on the kitchen floor. I was leaning down to help
him up when I heard footsteps. Knight yelled to me to watch out and
I looked up and
bang
. Lights out. That's all I remember. I
woke up in emergency with my head bandaged up in a turban." He
humphed
out a laugh. "I had a killer headache."

I stared at Scarface, unable to get the
image of the shooting out of my mind. The blood, the chaos, the
fear both men would have suffered despite Scarface's casual
retelling. What had Will's reaction been? Shoot the gunman? Check
that his friend was okay? Call for backup?

I couldn't guess. Seems like he'd been a
different person back then.

"That's how you got your scar?"

"Yep. Bullet grazed me but that was enough
to leave this behind. And that's how Knight lost his balls."

"Excuse me?"

"He wouldn't do anything after that without
checking with his superiors first, especially if it was a domestic.
Knight got nervous whenever he was called to one and that made him
over cautious. He wouldn't let anyone enter the crime scene until
two separate teams had checked it out, then he'd go through himself
before he cleared the scene. And he followed the rules to the
letter. His arrest stats went downhill fast."

"Is that when he left the force and started
working with my dad?"

"One year later, to the day." He fingered
the scar. "About the same time I went back on duty as undercover. I
hadn't seen him until the other day. Looks like he's lost none of
his pushy attitude."

"You got that right." I sounded more amused
than I felt. Scarface's story had shaken me up. I wasn't sure which
freaked me out more—that Will had caused Scarface's disfigurement
or the discovery that he had a vulnerable side. At least I'd
discovered why he avoided domestics like the plague.

"When did your dad start the agency?"
Scarface asked.

"A couple years before that I think. Mom
wanted him to find a line of work that didn't involve psychopaths
with guns. That's why he concentrated on white-collar crime when he
started Sinclair Investigations."

"Knight would have loved that."

"And I think Dad liked the fact Will was a
by-the-book kind of man, as you said. Anyway, he thought highly
enough of him to practically hand the business over to Will five
years ago when he became ill. He trusted him. He knew the clients
did too. Will did okay on his own but he needed help. Luckily he
hired Carl when he did."

Scarface's phone rang. He studied the screen
before answering it. "Forde. Yeah. Yeah. No problem." He hung up
and stood. "Gotta go, Sweetheart."

We paid at the counter. Actually, he paid
and I ordered four coffees to go. At the door he said, "Call me if
you need me for…anything." Then he kissed the top of my head and
left.

I clutched the little cardboard tray with
the four coffees and tried to force my legs to stop wobbling. What
did he mean, 'anything'? And was a kiss on the top of the head a
sign that he wanted to keep things strictly platonic or was he just
working his way down?

Should I be even thinking that?

Hell, yes!

Gina waved at me from the front of her shop.
Maybe she'd know the answers. I crossed the road and gave her a
smile.

"I've got a latté for you." I indicated the
foam cup closest to her.

She took it. "Thanks." She raised her brows
at me, a wicked smirk on her lips. "So who was that hot looking guy
you were canoodling with in the coffee shop? And does Will know
about him?"

"Firstly, we were not canoodling, and
secondly, he's an old cop buddy of Will's."

"That's not what I meant when I said does he
know about him."

"What's to know? Nothing happened between me
and Scarface." I cut my gaze to the office door but no one watched
me through the glass so I relaxed a little. Not that I had anything
to feel guilty about. Thinking about sex with someone else was
not
wrong.

"So you think he's hot?" I prompted.

"Cat, I nearly melted all the way over here.
He's got the It factor in a big way. I mean, that swagger, that
ass, the scar…everything." She leaned against the doorframe of her
shop. "So there's nothing going on between you and him?"

"Nothing."

"Sooo you don't mind if I have him?"

"Yes!"

She pointed a finger at me. "I knew it."

"Hey, that's not fair. You tricked me." I
batted her finger away. "And it doesn't mean anything. I just need
to…sort out my feelings first."

"For him or for Will?" Her voice had turned
serious. "Be careful, Cat." She disappeared inside as a customer
approached.

"Careful is boring," I muttered as I entered
the office. "I've got coffee," I called out.

Carl and Will emerged from Will's office and
descended on the coffees. "Great," said Carl, diving on the foam
cups like a hawk on a mouse. "Just what I need."

"You two been in there the whole time?" I
asked.

Will nodded as he sipped.

They wouldn't have seen Scarface then.
Phew
.

"Did you sort out Waterstone?"

"We did," said Will.

Carl laughed. "Will called him and told him
to pay his bill by the end of the week or forget about using Knight
Investigations again."

I choked on my coffee. "You did what? Will,
that's…brave." Maybe he'd found the pieces of his anatomy that
Scarface had claimed were missing.

"Not really," he said as he headed up the
hallway. "We've still got Slim."

And Roberta, if I had anything to do with
it.

"Cat, there's a stack of filing to be done
by the end of today," he said before he closed his door. "And if
you've got time, can you print off some more reports for me? I'll
bring you a list later."

He disappeared into his office and Carl
joined me at my desk. "So where to now?" he asked.