Chapter 15

The morning's cup of coffee had just cooled enough for the first swallow when his phone rang.

"Hello, Detective Riordan speaking."

"Detective Riordan, my name is Drew Payton–we haven't met but I believe we have a mutual friend – Sandy Goodwin?"

Pete paused, knowing it made civilians uncomfortable. He looked without seeing towards the grey-black clouds that had appeared overnight, robbing the city of its normal contrasts between light and shadow. "What can I do for you, Mr. Payton?" he asked, his voice flat.

"Well, first let me say I'm sorry about Detective Harris, and that I'm grateful for your help to Sandy. She has good things to say about you, Pete."

"Thanks."

"She asked me to call - she was wondering if there have been any developments on the case, or if they were close to being satisfied it could be closed."

"There's nothing that I can tell you, Mr. Payton."

Now it was Drew's turn for a long pause. "Meaning there's still activity but you can't talk about it, or there's nothing happening?"

"I can't tell you anything, other than it's an ongoing investigation."

"I know how it goes – my dad's a cop, so I know how to keep my mouth shut."

"Sorry."

"Well, all right. I was just hoping to be able to find out more than that for Sandy."

Silence.

"Sorry to bother you," Drew said, masking his annoyance. "Thanks for your time."

"Good day, sir."

"Goodbye."

Pete glowered at the phone. He knew about Drew from the bugs he had on Sandy's phone and around her apartment. As if he would help his competition for Sandy in any way – how ridiculous!

Besides which the case had been completely taken over by the FBI, who weren't telling anyone shit about what they were up to.

He fought down the nagging worry that lived in the pit of his stomach. If he was ever discovered ... he pushed away the thought. A cop going to prison for murder would do better to swallow his own gun.

He wondered how he could run off this Payton so he could get his dick back into Sandy's sweet ass again. There was no way some old high school teacher could satisfy a girl that could fuck you to death with any or all of her holes. He shuddered with a spasm of lust.

His personal cell phone rang, breaking his slide into delusional fantasy. Seeing the caller displayed, he got up and hustled into an empty conference room before answering.

"You're not supposed to call me when I'm on duty," he said sharply.

"The boss wants a meet," Al retorted curtly.

That brought Pete up short. He'd met the boss once before, when he was told they would never meet in person again.

"Why?"

"He wants the latest on the garage thing."

"I told you, I don't have anything more to tell him. The locals are all cut off."

"Not good enough. We're at war over this. He wants to know why the feds aren't coming down on the Mexicans for what went down. We pay you for information. You either bring him some, or he may decide it's time to cut payroll."

He thought furiously for a way to get out of the cross-hairs. Besides himself, there was only... "Maybe the kid knows something."

"Who?"

"The garage owner's son that was there that night. Maybe the FBI is talking to him about what he saw, what his dad was into. If they are, he'd have some idea what they're thinking."

"Get whatever you can. You remember where you met the boss before – be there tonight at eight." Al hung up.

Pete tried to stay calm. Bobby knew nothing about the investigation – Pete's tap on Barbara's phone would have tipped him off if the FBI had any interest in him. But the mob didn't know that. He'd been able to manipulate the kid pretty easily before, making him think that without Pete's protection, he could be charged for a death at the garage shoot-out.

He began to formulate a story to tell. What was one more lie, after all the lies told before?

"Hello?"

"Hey, sis."

"Dave!" Collette exclaimed. "It's for me," she told her roommate.

"Alright, I'll see you later," Cynthia replied. "Glad you're feeling better," she said on her way to the door.

"Thanks."

As she turned back to the phone, Cynthia called out loudly, "I knew you needed to get laid!"

"Hey, bro!" Collette exclaimed with pleasure into the phone. "How are you doing?"

"Apparently not as well as you?"

"Oh, bite me."

"Whatever. Hey, I know you probably have plans, but I was wondering if you have time to get together tonight."

"Tonight?" she asked, looking out the window at the heavy clouds rolling in. "Something wrong?"

"Well, we kind of have a situation."

"What did you do?"

"Very funny. I'm dealing with some upset girls, and I could use a mature woman's perspective."

Collette heard a female voice call out faintly in the background, "Asshole!"

"Who's that?"

"Julie."

"Does your girlfriend still have her panties in a not about Julie being in the house with you?" Collette teased.

"She's not happy about it, believe me. But she's got a cheerleader thing tonight. Anyway, we're getting as much of the gang together as we can to help Blythe work some things out."

Collette bit her lower lip. "Blythe? Is... ?"

"It's going to be at Bobby and Sammy's house."

She shivered but didn't reply.

"You've got to see him again sometime, Sis. You're still friends, right? And this is about helping Blythe."