“Can I have a minute?” I looked over at Milo as he started to circle around the car.

He glanced at the people gathered near the SUV, then back at me, shrugging. “Take your time.” He flashed a grin at me and nodded at the squad car. “He sure as hell isn’t going anywhere, is he?”

It surprised a laugh out of me. It felt good to laugh. Free and easy. “No. No, he isn’t.”

Moving over to the SUV, I met Nicco’s eyes first.

He had a faint smile on his lips, and I resisted, barely, the urge to kiss him.

Tearing my gaze from his, I nodded at Suria and Joelle. “You’re safe now. He won’t be able to bother you anymore.”

“Are you certain you’ll be able to make charges stick?” Joelle asked, her voice shaking.

“They’ve got a solid case against him already. Otherwise they wouldn’t have issued the warrant.” Taking a deep breath, I looked at Suria. “You’ve got a chance to build a better one against him. Apparently, the DA here already reached out to the DA in Los Angeles. If you testify against him, they’ll give you immunity for any possible crimes you might be guilty of.” I hesitated a second, then advised, “I’d suggest you do it. Chances are they’ll be able to make him take a plea bargain, and he’ll do time. By the time he gets out, Joelle will be over the age of eighteen and out of his reach for good.”

“I’ll do it,” she assured me. “I want to be free of him, and as long as I’m tangled up in his messes, that isn’t possible.”

Joelle looked back and forth between us, then asked, “Does this mean it’s safe to go home?”

“That place isn’t home.” Suria snorted. “We can go back, get the stuff we weren’t able to take that we wanted, but I don’t want to live there. Do you want to, Joelle?”

“But where are we going to go?” she half-whispered.

Kian slung an arm around her shoulders. I hadn’t been surprised to see him waiting when I finished getting Marks into the car. Wherever Suria was, he seemed to be close by. He hugged Joelle up against him and dropped a kiss on her temple. “You’ll stay with me. Suria and I have already talked about it.”

Nicco opened his mouth, then closed it. After a few seconds, he said, “Hopefully you’ll both come visit me. I’ve decided I like having sisters.”

Joelle flung herself at him.

I realized my eyes were watering a little, and I had to blink to clear them.

“I have to get going,” I said, looking back at the squad car. “The DA is waiting to question him, and I don’t know what all will happen with those in LA who want to talk to him.”

“Will he be transferred there?” Nicco asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. And I don’t care. I just want him to pay for everything he’s done, everybody he’s hurt.” I turned to go, but I didn’t make it more than a few feet before I turned back and looked at them. “After all this time, it’s hard to believe this is finally done. Thank you. All of you.”

Without waiting for an answer, I hurried back to the car and climbed in.

Marks was blissfully silent.

Milo gave my shoulder a quick pat. “Let’s get rolling, kid. We still got a full day’s work ahead of us.”

I almost groaned.

I was already worn out.

The lieutenant allowed me to stay and observe the questioning.

I got the feeling he was still a little put-out with me, but he nodded at a fat file in his hand as I was led into the observation room. “These are just some of the complaints that have come in about Gabriel Marks – in and out of state. If even ten percent of them hold water, getting him behind bars will be a good thing.” He squinted at me. “Let’s not do it this way again, Sinclair. You got a feeling about something like this, come to me. We do it the right way.”

I nodded. “Absolutely.” I had no problem making that promise.

“I mean it,” he said. “I don’t care if it’s personal or not. Letting things get personal is how a good cop gets screwed up.”

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I nodded again. “I will, sir.”

“Okay.” He gestured to the window, and I moved over to stand in front of it. Gabriel Marks sat there, wagging one knee back and forth, a cup of bad coffee in one hand. He was drumming the fingers of his free hand on the table while a public defender sat next to him, flipping through pages.

“He’s already lawyered up?” I asked softly.

“He’s not stupid,” Carl said, a bit of a sneer coming through in his voice. “Who knows how many people he’s fucked over through the years.”

“There’s no way he can get out on all the charges, right?” I shot a look up at him.

“Not likely.” Carl had a smug grin on his face. “He’s already had a couple of strikes against him. That’s not going to help him out…at all.”

The door to the interview room opened, and I sucked in a breath as Patricia Roth entered the room. She had changed, now wearing a pantsuit of power red, her dark, graying hair sleeked back from her face. She took a seat in front of Marks and put a file in front of her, flicking it open with a careless gesture.

“Well, now, Mr. Marks. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?” she said easily. “Just where do we begin?”