Page 95 of Rough Hard Fierce (Chicago Underground 1-3)
With my hand shielding Bailey’s eyes, I poured water over her soapy head. I only had to finish up her bath and put her down to bed before I could join Colin downstairs to watch the movie. I’d left him in his study after dinner. It was half past eight, and I was eager to pin him down, safe and secure from the looming drop across town.
Nothing would happen. Nothing should happen, after all. Philip’s drop should go down as planned, and the cops, if they’d heeded my note, would stake out my empty apartment. Still, I couldn’t shake the bad feeling that had shrouded me all day.
By the time I slipped from her room, frazzled, it was past nine o’clock.
I checked the study first. He wasn’t there. I strode through the living room, kitchen—no Colin. I peeked out of the burnished amber curtains I’d made for the living room. His truck was gone.
Surely he’d only left to grab some popcorn or drinks or something. Or maybe he really hadn’t liked my movie selections. Feeling antsy, I went into the kitchen, where I saw a note sitting on the small stack of DVDs I’d rented.
Raincheck. Business. Don’t wait up. —C
Well, shit. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what business stuff he could be up to tonight. Sure, there was the restaurant, but somehow I just knew it was Philip. It wasn’t like Colin to ditch me when we’d had plans, but he would go running if his brother called him.
I paced around the kitchen. Something might have gone wrong for Philip to call so last minute, and I worried it was a green-eyed cop in a tweed brown suit.
I hadn’t interfered with Colin’s business before, not since that night in my apartment when he’d made his stand clear. It required a certain amount of trust that he knew what he was doing. I wasn’t his keeper, and he didn’t need one. Then again, maybe I’d fucked up. I had thought I was doing him a favor by leading the cop in the wrong direction, but I hadn’t been brave enough to tell Colin they were trying to bust him. If he knew, he could be more cautious. If he’d known, he might have stayed with me or canceled the drop or so many other things. What if the cops had found the correct information, or hell, staked out this house and followed Colin when he’d left tonight?
That cop, he was dirty. The fact that he’d tried to blackmail me and hurt me was proof enough of that. He might not even arrest Colin. He could shoot first and ask questions later. If Colin ended up dead tonight…
Resolved, I called Colin’s cell. It rang and rang. Voice mail.
I hung up and glared at the phone.
I called again. Still voice mail. This time I left a message, babbling about calling me back right away, that I needed to talk to him, it was important, but that wasn’t good enough. He may not check his messages until after. He might be in trouble right now.
I did know where the drop was happening, the real one.
That was a bad idea, very bad. But as bad ideas tend to do, this one sprouted up like a weed, strangling all the others.
Picking up the phone again, I dialed Shelly.
“Hello?” She sounded anxious, which matched my mood.
“Shelly. I love you, sweetie, but can you please, please come watch Bailey?”
“I can’t, not now,” she said, sounding distracted. “Some bad shit is goin
g down.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. There’s this drop, and Colin just left, and—”
“Wait a minute. Colin’s going tonight? He wasn’t supposed to.” The sharp edge to her voice startled me. Almost panicky.
“What’s going on? What do you know?” I demanded.
“Nothing,” she said, but I knew her too well.
“Shelly,” I warned. “Tell me what you know.”
“The cops,” she said. “They’re going to be there tonight.”
“No, they’re not,” I said. “I gave the guy a fake address.”
Silence on the line.
“Shelly?”
“I gave it to them,” she finally said.
