Becoming Rain (Burying Water #2)(52)

Because even knowing what I know, how many times have I wished that I had the condo, the yacht, the car, for keeps?

“So you knew he was abusive?”

There’s a long pause, where he opens and closes his mouth a few times, but not saying anything. Choosing his words. “I’d see a slap, a harsh word. Figured she was just like the young, rich wives—putting up with it because of the money.” His hand squeezes mine tightly. “But, yeah, I knew.” His voice grows thick with remorse. “And I did nothing. None of us did, except for Jesse. I regret it every day.”

There is no room in my job for emotion. And yet abuse cases are my weak spot. I’ve seen plenty of them and, while I’ve heard all the sound reasoning, I struggle to understand the women who stay, and I abhor the family and friends who suspect abuse but do nothing.

There’s no room for that now, though. I need to coax more out of Luke, not condemn him. “Well, it must have been hard, with him being your uncle’s business partner, right?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But it wasn’t just that. Viktor Petrova was not a guy you wanted to cross.”

Suddenly, a mess of puzzle pieces snaps together.

Chapter 25

LUKE

The drive went by too fast. I’m not ready to drop her off yet. That’s probably why I blurt out, “So you’re coming to my place tonight, right?” the second I pull my car into her condo building driveway.

“I am?” A smile of surprise touches her lips. Not an “I can’t.” That’s good. I guess that means she’s not sick of me yet, and she doesn’t hate me for what I admitted to her about Alex and ignoring what I knew was happening.

I shrug. “That was the deal we made last week, right? I cook dinner for you?”

Her head falls back with a smile as realization strikes her. “That’s right. I was hoping you forgot.”

I chuckle. “Not a chance. I’m gonna prove you wrong.” Those sandwiches she packed for me were like nothing I’ve ever had. I was half-tempted to walk down to the food cart and force the guy behind the counter to take a bite and admit that his version is shit.

“Okay.” She grins at me. I’d kill to know what’s going on inside her head right now. I’m just seconds away from leaning over to kiss her when she says, “Let me just grab a shower,” and jumps out of the car. I watch her walk through her doors. So beautiful, so graceful, so . . . glass. I have an hour. Enough time to go deal with this raging hard-on she’s giving me. “Follow her lead, my ass,” I mutter, repeating Jesse’s words. “She’s going to lead me into some serious pain.”

Chapter 26

CLARA

“Well, you’re definitely making up for the slow start,” Warner mocks by way of greeting.

“That was Viktor Petrova’s f*cking wife!” I exclaim, the phone tucked under my chin as I turn the shower on. “The one Sinclair had an informant on before she went missing.”

“Yeah, I caught that.”

“You should see the scar on her face, Warner. It’s bad.”

“Knife?”

“Hard to say, but I’m guessing yeah. How she ended up on a ranch in Sisters, Oregon, though . . .” Running from her ex, likely.

“We’re doing background checks on all of them. Alex, the sheriff, Jesse Welles. I take it the car detail is a bust?”

“Yeah, looks like it’s all legit. I took some pics of the cars. I’ll send them your way to add to the files. I’ve got to get ready for tonight.”

“ ’kay. Bob and Franky are on. Watch yourself. And can you try to get something useful for once?”

“Shut up.” I smile as I hang up, strip, and climb into the shower, washing the day’s sweat and dirt from horseback riding from my body. Thinking about Luke. About his smile, his laugh, his piercing eyes, his full, plump lips . . .

My phone starts ringing, pulling me from the shower.

“Warner says you’re with the target again tonight?”

“Uh, yeah . . .” I fumble with the tap and grab a towel, caught off guard by Sinclair and his abruptness. Not even a hello. “Heading over there soon.”

“Good. I want you to push hard on the Petrova angle.”

“You think she has intel on the ring?” I know she does, but I’m not admitting to it out loud.

“Maybe. But I’m looking for solid leverage that we can use to make 12 flip on 24.”

“It’s an abuse case where a dickhead got what he deserved,” I blurt out.

“And more, I’m guessing. The property’s listed under a ‘Water Fitzergald.’ Willed to her a year ago.”

Huh. “So, she’s using a fake name.” I guess that explains Luke’s confusion when he was introducing us.

“That or the real Water Fitzergald is buried in a deep hole on that massive, valuable plot of land.”

I frown. “I don’t see it.” That would mean I read her wrong. I’m never that wrong about someone.

Sinclair chuckles and it’s not at all warm. “Well, excuse me if I’ve seen a lot more in my twenty-plus years in the Bureau than you’ve seen in your two minutes of handcuffing local crackheads,” he snaps. “Stop questioning me and start digging. I’m guessing that sheriff is culpable, too. For all we know, 12 and his friend tampered with Petrova’s car and they’re the reason he’s dead. Both of them have the know-how. If we can get 12 on a murder rap, he’ll be singing Markov’s name from the holding cell within a day.”