Marcus had twisted his face into a grimace. ‘I don’t think so. I didn’t want to fuck you before I found out you wanted to kill me. Desperate women aren’t my type.’
‘You can go to hell.’
Marcus didn’t flinch. Didn’t bat an eye as he regarded Alice with contempt. Scarlett’s heart swelled with pride. Then collapsed in her chest when he replied.
‘Not yet. I haven’t used up all of my nine lives.’
‘There’s still time, Marcus,’ Alice said a smile.
‘Fucking idiot,’ Deacon growled. ‘Poking a cornered snake with a stick is not smart.’
‘He’s got a damn hard head,’ Scarlett said, gritting her teeth. ‘I’ll smack him later.’ Her cell phone buzzed, but she ignored it for a moment, not wanting to look away from the viper sitting at the table. Sitting too damn close to what’s mine.
In the interview room, Marcus raised his brows at Alice. ‘Since you’re here and Demetrius is dead, someone else will have to take the baton. Who? Not DJ. He’s just a puppy. This guy maybe?’ He tapped the photo that Kate had enlarged. ‘Is he your sugar daddy?’
An almost intangible tightening of Alice’s body, then she relaxed with a smile. ‘Yes. He was. He paid my tuition and I was his arm candy. Then I graduated and didn’t need him anymore. Got a better offer.’
Kate sat next to Marcus. ‘Assassin was a better offer?’ she asked. ‘I wouldn’t think you’d need a law degree for that.’
Scarlett’s phone buzzed again and she cursed softly, not wanting to miss Alice’s answer.
‘It’s Vince,’ Deacon said, looking at his own phone. ‘He’s decrypted the files from Drake Connor’s flash drive. You coming, Scar?’
‘In a minute. I want to finish this.’ She handed Deacon the external drive that Diesel had given her. ‘Can you ask him to scan this for any booby traps? It’s got the non-picture files from McCord’s computer.’
‘Do I want to know how you got these?’ Deacon asked.
‘No. Tell Vince I’ll go through the files. I need to be sure they’re safe for my computer.’
‘Okay,’ Deacon said cautiously. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘You coming, Lynda? Agent Troy?’
Scarlett hadn’t forgotten they were back there. Nor had she forgotten that there was one other person sitting in the back row. She waited until Deacon and the others had left before sighing wearily. ‘You might as well come closer, Dad.’
Jonas Bishop joined her in front of the glass, crossing his arms over his big chest. ‘I didn’t know if you knew I was there.’
‘Spotted you the minute I walked in, but this wasn’t about me or you. This was about Marcus. I didn’t want him distracted. You can talk to him when they’re finished.’
‘Bossy,’ he said, but his hand was gentle when he brushed it over her hair. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She went willingly, leaning her head against his chest, but keeping her hands in her pockets.
She didn’t want him to find out that he’d been right all along. That she wasn’t tough enough to be a cop. That the job had chewed her up and was getting ready to spit her out.
Alice had sat back in her chair again. She’d closed her mouth stubbornly when Kate had joined the conversation and now stared straight ahead.
Kate checked her phone, then gave a quick hand signal to Marcus to stay put. The interview room became quiet as they waited. For what, Scarlett was unsure.
‘Why are you here, Dad?’
He squeezed her upper arm. ‘I wanted to see you. We don’t get to see you enough.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. Just don’t be a stranger.’ He hesitated nervously, this big man she’d always thought knew no fear. ‘Your uncle said you called him for help.’
‘I did. I needed a priest. Trace was an amazing help.’
Another silence as the two of them stood there looking into the interview room. ‘So that’s him, huh? The man you’ve chosen.’
There was something in his voice that got her hackles up. ‘Yes,’ she said, hearing the defensiveness in her own voice. ‘Marcus is a damn good man.’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said lightly. ‘I haven’t met him yet.’
‘I was going bring him over.’ Eventually, she thought. ‘We’ve been a little busy.’
‘So I hear. I never thought you’d go for a reporter again.’
‘Marcus isn’t a reporter. He isn’t like any media person I’ve ever met.’
‘You mother always thought you’d bring home Bryan someday. Gets herself into a dither worrying about it.’
Scarlett blinked, surprised. ‘I thought she liked Bryan.’
‘She feels sorry for him because he’s essentially motherless. But she never wanted him for you. I kept telling her not to worry about Bryan. That you have more sense than that.’
Scarlett’s throat grew tight. ‘Thank you.’
‘But . . .’
Her back stiffened. ‘But?’ There was always a but.
‘Your LT thinks you’re risking your career getting too involved with this guy before the case is closed. You know the rules, Scarlett Anne.’
In the past he’d used her full name when he was angry or disappointed in her. This time, there was gentleness and concern.
‘I know the rules, Dad.’
‘You didn’t say you’d follow them.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘This . . . thing you have . . . It could destroy your career.’
It wasn’t a scolding. It was reality, and Scarlett appreciated the way he said it. ‘I know. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but if I have to make a choice, I’ll choose him. I’ve waited too long to walk away from him.’
Her father blew out a breath. ‘You’ve known him two days, baby.’
She smiled. ‘Longer than that.’ Her smile faded when she looked at Alice Newman, sitting with her eyes stubbornly forward. ‘Besides, it might be a relief to get off this merry-go-round.’ Her voice wobbled, but it felt good to get the words out. ‘I’m tired, Dad.’
‘How long have you been tired?’ he asked, his voice so gentle that her eyes stung.
‘When was my first day?’ she asked with a teary laugh. ‘I take one off the street and two more take his place. Or her place.’ She blinked to clear her vision, bringing Alice’s face into focus. ‘She bought and sold people. Children. Families. Like they were animals. She and her group of cohorts tried to kill Marcus, I don’t know how many times. Because he’s kind and decent and couldn’t stand to see a girl suffer. And all I can do is arrest her when what I really want to do is—’ She cut herself off abruptly.
‘Slice her into pieces?’ her father murmured. ‘Shove explosives where the sun don’t shine? Tie her to a bed, give all her victims a sharp knife, then let them file by her one by one until she looks like a cutlery block?’
Stunned, she reared back, stared up at her father’s face. He wore no smile. ‘But . . .’
He hooked his forefinger under her chin, lifting it to close her mouth. ‘You think you’re the only one, Scarlett? Well, you’re not.’
‘But you’ve never said anything like that.’
‘Not to you. You were a child. That wouldn’t have been appropriate. But your mother’s heard it all and more. She learned a long time ago that I wouldn’t do it. I just needed to say it, to vent off some of the pressure. Your mother understands.’
Scarlett bit her lip, not knowing what he’d do with what she was about to say. ‘I think mine is more than a need to vent.’
‘How so?’
She looked back at the glass. At Marcus waiting patiently while Kate checked her phone. ‘I’ve wanted to kill Trent Bracken so many times,’ she whispered.
‘Understandable. He killed your best friend and walked away a free man.’
‘No, you don’t understand. I haven’t just wanted to. I’ve fantasized. I’ve planned it out, down to giving myself an alibi. There were a few times that I sat outside his house with my service revolver in my hand, hoping he’d come out to take the trash down to the curb. Then one night he did. I pointed the gun and flicked off the safety. I had him in my sight for a good twenty seconds. But I didn’t fire and he went back into his house, none the wiser.’