Chapter Seven
William rubbed his wrist and dropped into the chair at his desk. It had been some time since he’d slipped out of handcuffs and, in truth, it hadn’t really been necessary today. He just couldn’t let that insufferable ass show him up in front of Anne. She’d looked so apologetic as her partner had manhandled him. William could’ve laid that fool out easily; however, there was no wisdom in fighting a cop in his own station. Thus, it had been a good thing his paranoia had him carrying a paperclip in his shoe.
He couldn’t get a read on Anne after their last meeting. When had she become so inclined to worry about his safety? With the looks she’d given him, he’d half expected her to roll him in a blanket and give him a cup of hot cocoa with little marshmallows in it. Had she forgotten that he was a criminal? Had she forgotten that his father ran a decently-sized empire of black market goods and drug trade based in Europe? William had suffered rougher handling before the age of seven than he’d endured today. No one would search a rosy-cheeked, golden-haired little boy. He’d been too innocent to suspect.
And, of course, his work here had once been an adjunct of his father’s business. They were separate now, mostly since William didn’t care to be treated as less than a partner when he was twice as good at getting goods, information, and people into and out of places they didn’t belong. It hadn’t helped that his father hadn’t been fazed when one of his associates had put a hit out on William. If the old man couldn’t get it up to be angry that William had almost died, he didn’t deserve to be in on William’s business, or the legal connections that William had built up along with his businesses. Pity if dear old Dad didn’t realize that one was as important as the other.
William pushed himself out of his chair and went to get some more tea. Oddly, the book end of his business was picking up. Suddenly, people actually wanted to buy from independent bookstores again and didn’t mind higher prices if he waved shipping after a certain amount. Funny how that part of it worked. It wasn’t a drop in the bucket to his real holdings, but apart from the paperwork, he did enjoy finding things that were hard to find.
His fingers felt along the side of his shirt. He could feel the scar there easily, as the shirt was silk, and he knew where to look. He remembered Anne’s reaction, her hand touching his side gently, as though he might still be hurt. Even then, she hadn’t looked at him the way she had at the station. Like he was vulnerable.
After doctoring up his tea, William returned to his desk to finish up some paperwork and work a few deals on the dark web. He had some jewelry burning a hole in his inventory, and he’d like to unload it before the police found some flimsy excuse to get a warrant and search everything. Granted, it wasn’t easy to find, and he wasn’t so foolish as to keep it at the hotel or at the store, but some of the police would be able to ferret out his lockboxes and other hiding places. He had taken a break from the side business directly after getting out of prison, and it looked as though he might have to do so again, at least until this murder had been solved.
When the bell at the front door jingled, William quickly cleared everything from his desktop and peered down to the first floor. Anne? Again?
“You know, I’d hate to have to put out a restraining order,” William teased.
Anne looked up. “You need to answer your phone.”
“I put it on silent while I was working. Being harassed by the fuzz is bad for business.”
“Especially yours, I’d guess.” Anne walked to the side of the room. She still couldn’t find the stairway after having seen him use it a few days ago. William might have to admit to needing a cleaning lady in here.
“It’s behind the pile of used textbooks,” William offered. “Not that—Right, there.”
Anne made her way up the curving staircase. “Were you a dragon in a past life? Hoarding books and weird trinkets?”
“I don’t hoard them, love. I sell them.”
“How does anyone find anything in here? I don’t remember your penthouse ever being this messy.” Anne stopped a few feet away from him, keeping her professional distance.
“I don’t keep inventory in my home. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing your face almost continuously, even after proving my innocence?” William watched her emerging from the stairs. She hadn’t changed her clothing since that morning. Truthfully, she looked a mess. This case must be quite hard on her. Still, she was lovely, even in her weariness. He sort of adored how she looked when she’d been up too long and drunk too much coffee. The way her hair was escaping her strict bun made him want to run his fingers through it and let it all loose.
“You have proven it. That’s why it would be such a big deal if you were still being tailed.” Anne paused for a beat. “But you aren’t. We checked with highway patrol and our beat cops, and aside from the tail that the captain put on you, which was reporting in regularly until this morning, no one has been following you. And more importantly? No one called in your license last night. There’s zero record of it.”
“Deny it all you like, detective, but I was pulled over, and there’s someone outside my shop right now,” William argued.
“We believe you, Will. What I’m telling you is that the police are officially not following you.” She leaned over slightly. “But someone is.”
William raised his brows. The names of a dozen names of potential enemies rushed to mind. “That’s good to know. Thank you for that, Anne.”
Her perplexed look was warranted. He rarely called anyone by their name or title unless he was mocking them.
“I mean it. Might come as a surprise to you,” he said sarcastically, “but I rub a lot of people the wrong way. No one’s been gunning for me since I got out, as far as I knew, so this intel is critical for me.”
“This intel means that you’re in danger,” Anne insisted. “I suspect, from both whoever has been tailing you and the unsub that took down Pigg. He was literally twice your size, Will.”
“You’ll find that five rounds will take down the best of us, pet. I can hold my own,” William said more defensively than he’d intended.
Anne rolled her eyes and sighed. “Do you really have time for this masculinity pride parade? Isn’t your life worth more than your ego?”
“Dunno.” William rubbed his index finger over his chin. “My ego’s worth a lot.”
Anne pressed her lips together and stared him down.
“You’re adorable when you do that.” William chuckled. “Don’t worry your pretty little head. I have a few places I can look to find out who’s out to get me. While I’m there, I can see who might be behind your murder. Chances are, you’ll catch the dolt that hired your hit man before you catch the man himself.”
“Where are these places? I’ll go with you.”
“Absolutely not. You walk like a cop. God, love, you smell like a cop right now.”
Anne looked down at herself.
“Coffee and desperation,” he clarified.
“I’ll shower. Don’t be stubborn about this. If you’re really hitting the street to find out information that I’m seventy percent sure that you’ll be sharing with us either voluntarily or with a little pressure and/or flirting, then it makes sense to have a trained officer nearby.”
William turned from her and grabbed his tea, which had gone cold, and took a long sip. “For the life of me, I don’t know what makes you think all of a sudden that I’m this kittenish sop that can’t handle himself. You know who I am, what I’m capable of. Moreover, you know who raised and then trained me.”
“You are always so dramatic! This is a case. My case. I’m the primary here, and I have to make sure that it’s handled properly. So you’re going to bring me along. I’m not sending a civilian in undercover without backup, even if you are the son of a sadistic crime lord as well as the shadiest fucking man in an already shady as fuck city!”
William turned to her with a frown. “This is about your job, then?”
“Mostly, yes.” Anne’s eyes flitted up, then to the left. It was a classic sign that she wasn’t entirely being truthful about something.
Regardless, William would’ve been more suspicious if she hadn’t been hiding something. What was their relationship if they were completely open with one another?
“Right. Well, some of my contacts I’m not lettin’ you in on no matter what, but there is this one thing you can do with me, if you’re up for it.” William smirked at the pleased expression on her face.
“Absolutely. I’ll just check in with Lopez, and we can go.”
“Nope.” William shook his head. “You definitely need to clean up.”
Anne’s nose wrinkled.
“And it’s not until Saturday, in any case.” William shrugged impishly. “Good thing, as I wouldn’t imagine you’d have the appropriate outfit.”
“I know how to do undercover,” Anne protested.
“Not like this.”
Anne was close enough now for him to reach out and touch a loose curl dangling against her neck. She pulled away, but not hard. Just enough that he knew why she was really avoiding his touch.
“How about you come up to my place to prepare? I can guarantee there won’t be any eyes on us that we don’t want there,” he said.
“That’s not…” She trailed off. Not what? Necessary? Appropriate?
“Have you ever been to The Gergitch Gala before?” William tilted his head to the side. “I feel like that might be an event that you’ve missed.”
“A gala? Your big secret place to go skulking for information is a gala?”
“You’re not looking for some grungy dope in a hoodie, pet. You’re looking for the people who are really good at crime. The ones who don’t get caught. The ones who get themselves off.” William gestured to himself with flourish. “You’re looking for people like me.”
Anne narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. She was considering whether or not she bought this line of reasoning.
William felt a stab of satisfaction as her face softened.
“Fine. We can play dress-up. But we’re just picking out a dress. That’s all.”
“Be at my place in the morning,” he ordered. “Your bun and leather jacket aren’t gonna cut it around this crowd.”
Anne nodded. Just before she turned to go, she stopped herself. “Since the department is no longer investigating you, I can have someone make an official statement to that effect to the press. I know it’s a lot of pressure on you to have that kind of slight to your reputation this early after being released.”
“Don’t. In fact, if you can leak that you’re still investigating me, it would probably be better,” William suggested.
Anne blinked at him in disbelief. “What are you talking about? Why would you do that? I thought you wanted people to leave you alone? To get on with your life?”
“I do, but if I’m going to do this, I’d rather all the ne'er-do-wells assume I’m one of them. On top of that, the best way to catch a criminal is to let him get cocky. If the man who ordered the murder thinks the police are planning a case against me…” William picked up a pen and twirled it, thinking as he spoke. “I reckon he’ll be so flushed with success that he’d be more inclined to make mistakes and not guard his secrets.”
Anne seemed to consider that. “Not a bad idea. But it puts a lot of pressure on you.”
“There’s a man out there who stuck a knife in my gut and some unknown enemy following me. Trust me, love, I’m already under a spot of pressure.” William’s tone was dry and a little mocking, but Anne’s eyes widened, and she grimaced. This was not a joke she found very funny.
“I was right,” was all she said.
“You were right.” William rubbed his thumb against the scar on his middle finger. “I know how you love that.”
“I do. I’m not wild about this though.”
She stepped back toward him, and for some reason, he let her take his hand. Her long tapered fingers moved along his, splaying them apart as she looked for the mark. It was unmistakable. The doctors had stitched that up as well as his side, but the former injury hadn’t healed as evenly as the latter. Her fingertips moved over the scar and the bumpy flesh where the stitches had held his finger together. Her eyes fixed on his hand with an almost intimate expression.
“It was before I met you,” he said, although he didn’t know why he felt the need to explain.
“I remember the gash on your side,” Anne said quietly. “Why did the hit man use a knife on you, rather than a gun?”
“Maybe he realized it was more efficient. Maybe I’m bloody lucky. Who the hell knows?” William curled his fingers over, but she didn’t take her hand away. She just held his hand in hers and looked up at him with that intolerably sympathetic expression.
“Did you see him? Any part of him?” she asked.
“Love, if I had, I would’ve given you that information rather than just having you poke at a dead body.” William felt his temper growing shorter. It was incredibly awkward for her to look at him this way. He wasn’t even sure where this empathy had stemmed from. Was it leftover feelings, or just part of her professional interrogation techniques?
So much for not letting her manipulate him.
“You’ve got to get back to work, don’t you?” he said.
Anne let go of his hand. “I do. There’s a lot of work right now. Be careful.”
“I always aim to,” William vowed.
However, that, like many other things he said on a given day, was a total lie. At least where Anne was concerned.