Safeword (30 page)

“We’ve had two leaks on this case in the last week,” Kittridge said, his voice steely. “The common denominator is the two of you.” Myah opened her mouth to protest, but Kittridge raised a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Both of you are off this case, and if so much as one more piece of information makes it into the press without my say-so, you can kiss your jobs goodbye. Barker and Louderback will be taking over from here. Give them the open files and consider yourselves on paid suspension until you hear from me.” He gestured to his desk. “Badges and guns.”

My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth to keep from saying something that would make the situation worse, and it took every ounce of control I possessed to set my badge, wallet, and gun on his desk. Myah, looking mutinous and ready to pop, was less gentle with her items before turning on her heel and stalking from the room.

The smug expression Louderback wore as my partner and I slammed the open case files on his desk made me want to puke, preferably on him. His tie was already stained with that morning’s jelly donut filling anyway.

“Forensics will have a report for you soon involving a hotel room registered to Carter Black. There’s sensitive information involving Gavin in that evidence.” Myah spoke clearly, and she was all the more terrifying because the words were delivered at low-volume. “If I find out information has been misused in any way, your wife will hear about that arrangement you used to have with Vice for tips on where they’d be patrolling for pros so you could do your pick-ups at other locations.”

Louderback’s double chin bobbed as he swallowed. Myah spun around, her shoes pounding the floor as she stomped to her desk for her purse. When she glared at me and barked to come on, I obediently fell into step behind her.

I squinted at her in the bright sunshine. “You’re a little scary, you know that? How do you find that shit out?”

She shrugged and put on her sunglasses. “Know thine enemy. After he spouted off last time, I thought it would be wise to see how deep his swine personality went. Turns out, he’s bacon through and through.”

I snorted, then fell silent, the gravity of our situation souring my gut. My cell phone interrupted me working up a full head of steam, however. My shoulders slumped. When it rained, it poured.

“What do you want, Victoria?” I answered with the most irritated sigh I could manage.

“Gavin, finally! I really need to talk to you.” She sounded nothing like the frigid woman who’d glowered at me across the table as our marriage was dissolved in the quickest mediation in the history of divorces.

“What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“Have you been yanked off your case yet?” She asked cryptically.

That gave me pause. “What do you know about it?”

“I need to see you. I don’t want to do this over the phone.” The hint of pleading in her tone made me cringe, but I couldn’t very well ignore her if she had information on what had just happened.

“Where?”

“You can’t just come to the house?” she needled. I gritted my teeth, biting my tongue. Then decided, fuck it.

“I was just suspended, Vic. I have a stalker, and in the last two hours, I’ve been run out of my home and my job. My boyfriend has no idea what’s going on or why, and all I want to do is explain to him so he doesn’t worry about me anymore than necessary. If it’s not on my terms, it’s not at all. You called me, remember?”

She was quiet for so long I looked at the display to see if the call was still open. It was.

“Okay. Name the place. But it has to be now. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this.”

Stand what?
I rolled my eyes at her drama. Myah, who’d decided to eavesdrop as soon as she heard my ex-wife’s name, smiled faintly. I suggested to Victoria a fast food place between my old house and the station. She sniffed, but agreed.

“You’re coming, too.” I pointed at Myah. “She has information on the leaks. Pertains to both of us.”

Myah sighed but got in her car with a wave of her hand indicating she’d follow me wherever we had to go.

The lunch crowd was mostly gone when my ex-wife walked in and joined us in our booth. Victoria used a handful of napkins to wipe the seat before sliding in across from us. Myah held out her hand.

“We’ve never met. I’m Gavin’s partner, Myah Hayes.”

Victoria looked surprised at being treated politely, and cautiously shook Myah’s hand.

“Victoria DeGrassi. Nice to meet you.”

I slurped rudely at my milkshake to remind Victoria, the longer she took to get to the point, the longer she’d be exposing herself to the dregs of humanity.

She gave me a pointed look. “I’m trying to be helpful here, Gavin. Do you need to be juvenile?”

Myah grinned and bumped my shoulder. “Don’t be juvenile. What’s on your mind, Vicki?” She may have sounded like she was siding with my ex-wife, but Victoria hated any shortening of her name and Myah knew it.

Victoria barely held her grimace in check. “Trent has been giving case information to that reporter in order to sabotage you, Gavin. And by extension, you, Miss Hayes.”

I lost all irritation and Myah dropped the pretend camaraderie, leaning forward with interest. “You’re sure?”

“Quite,” Victoria answered, her face tight. “He had the nerve to invite her to my house the first time. Said it was better if he talked to her at mine instead of his; less likely for him to be seen talking to her. He assumed I’d be on board with his plan to, quote, ‘smear the queer.’”

That earned her a raised brow. “Was his assumption not right?”

She made strong eye contact, stopping just shy of glaring. “I hated you, Gavin. Regardless of what I did, I never made our marriage into a lie.”

“Oh, that’s rich. How many were there before Trent? Were you ever really interested in me or was it just what I could do for you?” I snarled.

She bared her teeth. “At least I really loved you once. You couldn’t even give me that. I was just a cover, your
beard
.”

“Children, children,” Myah intervened. “Not productive. You were both wrong. Get over it.”

Victoria turned to me after a beat of silence. “Is she usually so blunt?”

I nodded. “She takes no one’s shit. Even your perfumed brand.”

Myah elbowed my side. “Ignore him, Victoria. So you weren’t entirely comfortable with Trent’s plan, but you didn’t say anything. What changed?”

Victoria’s obvious disdain changed focus to my ex-partner. “He got a teenaged girl pregnant. I have reached the end of my tolerance. I will no longer stand aside while he steamrolls people for his own purposes. I used to think he was ambitious. But ambition should be tempered with morality. He’s not got a moral bone in his body.” She looked at me, and her expression softened. “At least you were someone I was proud to love.”

I shifted in discomfort. It was much easier to snipe at her than be nice, but she didn’t have to try to help me at all, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Do you know how he’s getting the information? He’s not close to the investigation anymore and our sergeant secured the files after the first leak. Anyone outside Second has to formally request it through him.” The thought made me uncomfortable. How secure were the files? Anyone with a good enough reason could put in a request and be granted. Anyone. I wasn’t the most popular guy there, but people mostly left me alone. Or so I’d thought. My deluded little bubble burst.

Victoria brought me back to the conversation. “Someone named Louderback,” she answered, confirming a sudden suspicion. While Louderback had always stopped short of physical violence, this kind of thing was right up his alley.

Myah hissed. “And Sarge just gave that fucker our case.”

Victoria pursed her lips at the profanity. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I tried to call but got voicemail every time.”

I said nothing, barely holding my temper in check. Trent was a
cop.
He
knew
how dangerous leaks could be, but his revenge on me was more important than justice for good men like Arnold Stevenson. Hell, Trent’s own
partner
had been killed, and his hatred for me surpassed even that, apparently. I said so aloud.

“He blames you for everything, Gavin,” Victoria said sadly. “You’re the reason he got passed over for a promotion. You’re why he went back to Vice. You’re why he’s no longer anyone’s golden boy. And you’re too stupid to have caught this killer before his partner got killed. His words.”

I was stunned and fuming. “
He’s
the one who stabbed
me
in the back!”

Victoria nodded miserably. “I’m sorry, Gavin. This is partly my fault, too.”

“Where is he, Vic?” I demanded.

“Why?” Myah wanted to know.

“Because I’m gonna tear him apart.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Victoria snapped.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t,” I shouted, earning curious and dirty stares from other customers. I lowered the volume but not the vehemence. “He fucked you behind my back for who knows how long; he just got me suspended and thrown off this case. What’s next? Is he going to escort the man who killed his partner past the security detail and straight into my house to finish the job Damon Lane started?” I stopped to breathe. “When does he have enough revenge, Victoria? I need to stop him before he goes any further.”

“How?” she asked. “By saying ‘please?’ He’d laugh at you and keep on coming.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You are better than that. What you do is let me talk to your sergeant and then leave it to him to handle.”

“Gavin, she’s right,” Myah said, putting a calming hand on my forearm. I shook her off, too angry to see reason. Instead, I slid out of the booth and stomped to the exit.

“I can find him myself,” I threw back over my shoulder.

They scrambled after me, catching up in the restaurant’s parking lot. They ganged up on me, Myah blocking my car door, and Victoria weaving to obstruct my path, matching my every attempt to sidestep her.

“Gavin, don’t do this. I’ll go to your boss right now,” Victoria begged. It wasn’t a good look for her.

Just as I was about to yell at her, my phone emitted a warble I’d never heard before and I slowed, digging it out of my pocket. I almost ignored it, given my hell-bent determination, but I had been waiting for Ben to call with the name of the hotel he’d chosen so I could explain to him why we had to leave the house.

The screen flashed red with the security alarm company app logo in the middle. It all but screamed emergency. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but I tapped the screen anyway. The words “fire alarm activated” and “emergency services contacted” alternated for my attention. Then the phone rang. Ben.

“Are you okay?” I said by way of answer.

“I’m fine. I was checking into a hotel when the monitoring company called. Where are you?” He was equally demanding.

“I’m on my way to the house.” I glared at Myah and Victoria to get out of my way.

“What’s going on?” Myah asked.

I pointed to the passenger side of my car, indicating she should get in. Victoria took the hint, standing aside, looking uncertain and scared. I mouthed, “Thank you,” to her. She nodded and moved to her own car as I peeled out of the parking lot.

“Gavin, you still there?” Ben’s voice came through the phone I hadn’t bothered to disconnect.

“Yes.”

“Wait for me.”

That made no sense. I wasn’t going to some hotel while our house burned to embers and ashes. I fervently hoped it was a mistake or a small problem. But I had to know. I wasn’t waiting.

“I’ll meet you there, Ben. As fast as I can.”

I drove as if the hounds of hell nipped at my tires, practically daring some unaware patrolman to pull me over. It wasn’t long before I could see my hopes were too optimistic. Black smoke rose in giant puffs beyond buildings and trees in the direction of our house, and a few blocks away, I could smell it. How could it have gotten so big if the alarm company called for help as soon as the smoke detectors went off?

My street was blocked off by patrol cars. I automatically reached for my badge, forgetting it was on Kittridge’s desk. In the end, I just bared my teeth and growled through the open window.

“That’s my fucking house!” I didn’t wait for them to move, merely spun the wheel and jumped the curb of the grassy median bearing a line of trees down the middle of our street. The neighborhood kids played frisbee and catch there on weekends in summer. Good thing it was deserted now.

I narrowly missed a tree, driving around the barricades. The blocking officers scrambled out of my way, one of them kicking over a sawhorse I nearly clipped. I got as close to the house as I could and finally stopped by the cluster of strobing emergency vehicles, the majority of which were fire engines.

Throwing the car in park, I didn’t bother to cut the engine as I dashed out. The first thing to hit me was the smell, heavy and choking, siphoning the good air even outdoors. Next came the heat. It was a decent spring day, jacket weather, but my street could have been a tropical island except for the chaos of men laying hose lines and shouting orders, and the sound of glass shattering in the upper windows. Worst of all was the roar of the flames shooting skyward, a hungry beast consuming the house lick by destructive lick.

A beefy man in turnout gear planted a hand on my chest, ordering me to stay back.

“That’s my house,” I repeated.

“You’re the homeowner?”

“I live here, but my boyfriend owns it. I’m Detective Gavin DeGrassi, St. Louis County PD.” I stopped trying to get closer, utter helplessness overtaking me. Our life together had started in that house, and I could do nothing but watch the orange flames eat away at it.

“Was anyone home when it started, Detective?” the firefighter asked. To his credit, he didn’t flinch when I said “boyfriend” nor did he yank his hand away to avoid being too close to the gay.

“No, we were both out. Ben’s on his way here.” I hadn’t even looked for him, too preoccupied with the spectacle.

“Are there any pets to worry about?” I looked at the guy stupidly, uncomprehending. “Dog or cat?” he clarified, not unkindly. I shook my head. He raised a radio to his mouth and spoke quietly to men I presumed were nearer or inside the house. “Please stay back, sir. We’re doing everything we can.”