Keep Her Safe(137)

“My money’s on her refusing to testify, even if she wants to help. She has a new life now, and she doesn’t want people to know who she was,” Tareen says.

“Besides, there are too many ways to poke holes in her story. It was fourteen years ago, she was high, she couldn’t definitively ID him . . . We need a slam-dunk.” Klein levels me with a look. “And you can do that for us, if you’re willing.” He hesitates, as if somewhere deep down under that callous exterior of his, he has a conscience. Or maybe he’s just using my conscience against me. “For Abe.”

“Of course Noah’s willing,” Gracie blurts out, answering for me. She turns to me and in her green eyes, I see my options—help the FBI put my uncle in jail for life and destroy the only family I have left.

Or lose her forever.





CHAPTER 60


Grace

He’s awake.

I can tell by the rhythm of his breathing, by the rigid feel of his body against mine.

He’s awake, just as I’m still awake, quietly hanging in this state of limbo as I wait for him to commit. To make a choice.

To make the right choice, the one that will see his uncle face punishment for his crimes.

And cause his dead mother’s name to be dragged through the mud.

Now I know what Klein meant when he told me to be careful, to not get in too deep with Noah, unless I was 1,000 percent sure that he would choose me over his mother, and his uncle.

He predicted that Noah might be lying in bed next to me one day, deciding whom to protect.

Whom to disappoint.

Whom to betray.

We all know who Jackie chose. Her brother . . . herself. She chose wrong.

But will Noah make the same mistake?





CHAPTER 61


Commander Jackie Marshall

May 6, 2003

I watch Canning make his way around the pool to where I sit in my lounge chair, under my lilac tree. He’s swaying with his steps.

Or maybe I’m swaying.

I reach down to grab the bottle of whiskey and top up my glass.

“Jackie.” Canning drags over a chair to place it next to me.

“I heard they found things in Abe’s house.” I’m not going to bother with pretenses.

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t know what to tell you, except I’m sorry. I know he was a good friend.”

“There’s no way Abe was dealing drugs.” Just like I know there’s a reason for Mantis and Stapley being placed on this unorthodox “special” investigative team, and there’s a reason that crime scene was shut down like a vault, nobody in, nobody out.

“It’s not lookin’ good for him.”

“That’s because you have Mantis on the case. Mantis!” I hiss. “The very same guy who Abe was about to bury for stealing money!”

“Mantis is as shocked about this as anyone else.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.” I let out a derisive snort. “Was he shocked when Abe refused to keep the bag of money he found in his car? The bribe from Mantis, to shut him up?”

Canning’s brow furrows in thought. “Did Wilkes say that Mantis handed him a bag of money?”

“No, Mantis left it there for Abe to find.”

“So Abe didn’t see who left this bag.”

“No, but . . .” I sigh. God damn it.

“Is there an accusation you’d like to make, Jackie? Something you can actually prove beyond a reasonable doubt? Something that will sound plausible, next to the concrete case they’re building for Abe’s corruption as we speak?” Canning looks at me through shrewd eyes. “Think carefully. Think about what it could mean to your career. To your family’s happiness.” He leans in as far as his round belly will allow him, to say in a voice so low that only I can hear, “Because the way I see it, nothing good will come of you falling on your sword for Abraham Wilkes.” Then, in a more placating tone, “You warned him, didn’t you? You told him about the greater good, about sometimes making choices that sacrifice the few to help the many. But it sounds like Abraham chose to help the few. Mainly, to help himself.”

But didn’t I help myself, too? What I did to Betsy, I did it for my family—for my brother, for his sweet wife and kids, for my darling Noah who adores Silas—but I also did it for myself. Because in those few minutes by that door, in that drive out to The Lucky Nine, the only solution I could think of was the one where my family, my life, my ambitions were safe.

“You want to play in the big boys’ yard, you need to follow the rules.” Canning reaches into his pocket and pulls out a silver star.

The one that would make me assistant chief.

“Why don’t you hang on to that for now, until this investigation is over. We can pin it to your collar and make it official.” He drops the star into my palm and then heaves himself out of his chair. “Slow down on the drink, will ya? Or you won’t remember anything we talked about.”

Exactly what he’d play on, should I dare ever repeat it.

“Oh, by the way . . . do you know what happened to that bag of money that Abe claimed Mantis left in his car?” He says it so casually, as if it’s an afterthought. I know it’s anything but. It’s evidence, to a story that Canning doesn’t want to get out.