"You should give some serious thought to cooperating before it's too late," Joe suggested.
Kevin sat back in his chair and cocked his head to one side. "I'm not talking. Screw you."
"Okay, then think about this instead, while you're in a comfy jail cell, I'm going to be at home, grilling up steaks and celebrating."
"With Gabrielle? Does she know who you really are? Or did you use her to get to me?"
Guilt settled in his belly. Guilt and the same wave of protectiveness he'd felt the night he'd watched Gabrielle hang from that balcony. It caught him off guard and pushed him away from the door. "Don't you talk to me about using Gabrielle. You used her for years to give yourself a legitimate front." What he felt churning in his gut was more than just a sense of duty to protect his informant, but he wasn't in the mood to get in touch or get introspective.
Kevin turned away. "She'll be fine."
"When I spoke with her this morning, she didn't seem fine."
Kevin turned back, and for the first time, something besides arrogance and belligerence flickered behind his eyes. "What did you tell her? What does she know?"
"What she knows is none of your concern. All you need to know is that I was in Anomaly to do my job."
"Yeah right," he scoffed. "When you had Gabe shoved up against a wall and had your tongue down her throat, it looked like more than a job to me."
Walker looked up, and Joe forced an easy smile. "Some days were better than others." He shrugged and shook his head, as if Kevin was just spouting off. "I know you're really pissed at me right now, but I'm going to give you some advice. You can take it or tell me to screw myself again, I don't care either way, but here it is: You're not the type of guy who really gives a shit about anyone but you, and now isn't the time to develop scruples. Your ship is going down, my friend, and you can either save yourself or drown with the other rats. I suggest you save yourself before it's too late." He looked Kevin over one last time, then he turned from the room and walked to the holding cells.
Contrary to what the chief had told Kevin, William Stewart Shalcroft wasn't cooperating in the least. He sat cooling his heels in the cell, staring out the bars, the light overhead casting his bald head in a grayish light. Joe watched the art dealer and waited for the adrenaline rush. The surge that always came when it was time to scam a scammer, to get a guy to talk even though you've just told him not to talk or you'll use everything he says against him. The rush didn't come. Instead Joe just felt exhausted. Mentally and physically spent.
The high energy filling the station kept him awake and alert the rest of the day. Listening to the details of Kevin's and Shalcroft's arrest, then listening some more as the story was hashed and rehashed from beginning to end kept his mind occupied and kept him from thinking too much about Gabrielle and what he intended to do about her.
"Did someone bring flowers in here?" Winston asked from across the aisle.
"Yeah, smells like it," Dale Parker, a rookie detective, added.
"I don't smell a damn thing," Joe barked at his coworkers, then buried his nose in paperwork. He spent the rest of the afternoon smelling like a lilac bush and waiting for the ax to fall on his neck. At five o'clock, he grabbed the pile of paper on his desk and headed home.
Sam waited on his perch by the front door. "Hello, Joe," he greeted as soon as Joe walked in.
"Hey, buddy." Joe tossed his keys and the stack of paper on the table in front of his couch, then let Sam out of his aviary. "How was television today?"
"JER-ry JER-ry," Sam screeched as he hopped out of the wire door and flew to the top of the oak entertainment unit.
Joe hadn't allowed Sam to watch Springer for several months. Not since he'd picked up bad language and repeated it at inopportune moments.
"Your mama's a fat hoe."
"Jeezus," Joe sighed and sank down on the sofa. He'd thought Sam had forgotten that one.
"You behave," the mimic perched on the television admonished.
Joe leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His life was headed straight to hell. He'd just about flushed his career, and there was a real possibility that his job was still in jeopardy. He was up to his ass and elbows in paperwork, and his bird had a trashy mouth. Everything was out of control.
Without the distractions of his job, he thought of Gabrielle, of the day he'd first arrested her. His opinion of her had done about a one-eighty in less than a week. He respected her, and he felt real bad that she'd probably been right about her business. Her name and her shop were now connected to the most infamous theft in the state. She probably would have to close it, but thanks to her slick little lawyer, she wouldn't lose everything. At least he hoped she wouldn't
And then he thought of her soft mouth on his and her hard nipples grazing his chest Her touch on his back and abdomen. His penis in her hand as she rubbed him across her smooth stomach, back and forth right across that belly ring. He'd almost embarrassed himself right there on her silky skin. He could still see her beaded earrings nestled in her hair as he looked down into her face, still feel the warmth of her body beneath him.
She was beautiful with her clothes on. She was amazing with them off. She'd rocked his world, blown his mind, and if she were any other woman, he'd be trying to figure out a way to talk her out of her clothes again-and again. He'd be in his car, on his way to her house, trying to get her to straddle naked in his lap.
He liked her. Okay, he more than liked her.
He liked her a lot. But liking a woman a lot wasn't love. Even if a relationship with her wasn't as complicated as hell, she wasn't the type of woman he could see himself settling down with. He didn't want to hurt her, but he had to stay away from her.
Taking a deep breath, he combed his fingers through the sides of his hair, then dropped them to his lap. Maybe he had nothing to worry about. Nothing to feel guilty over. She might not expect anything. She was a big girl. A smart girl. She probably knew that making it in her bed, on her floor, and in her shower had been a big mistake. She was probably dreading the thought of seeing him again. They'd made each other feel good for a couple of hours, real good, but it couldn't happen again. She had to know that too. She had to know there wasn't a possibility of any sort of relationship between them.
With the curtains drawn and the lights out, Gabrielle sat alone in her darkened living room and watched the five-thirty local news. The Hillard theft was once again the top story, only this time Kevin's picture flashed on the screen.
"A local man was arrested today in connection with the biggest theft in the state's history. Businessman Kevin Carter…" the newscast began. Film footage showing the front of Anomaly ran as the broadcast continued. It showed police carrying out Kevin's Nagels, his computer, and his files. They'd emptied his desk and had searched the store for stolen property. She knew everything they'd touched, because she'd been there. She'd gotten dressed and driven to her store, and she'd watched them do it. Her and Mara and Francis and her lawyer Ronald Lowman. Standing side by side. Everyone but Joe.
Joe hadn't come back.
The story continued through the first segment and into the second. A photo of William Stewart Shalcroft appeared in one corner, and Kevin in the other, as a police spokesman answered questions. "With the help of an informant," he said, but failed to mention her name and that she was innocent, "we've had Mr. Carter under surveillance for some time…" He continued, then the report moved to the human interest side, and Mr. and Mrs. Hillard appeared and thanked the Boise P.D.