“Why?” I ask.
“They’re honoring the top students from the three largest academies in the area. I’m not going to talk. They just want us to be up there when they say a few words.”
I shrug.
“Don’t leave,” he says, and I hear an odd weakness to his voice. I glance over, and he looks at me with a furrowed brow.
“I might step out to get some fresh air,” I say. “But I won’t leave.”
Miles hesitates a moment before standing and then leaving alongside his classmate, Barry. The moment he disappears into the sea of people and tables, I stand and amble my way to the nearest door. I really do need to get some fresh air. All this champagne has gone to my head.
I step out into a covered patio area, admiring the blue glow from the Olympic regulation-sized swimming pool they have for their guests. The sprinkle of water over the surface causes the inner light to shimmer. It’s pleasant enough, and I lean onto the patio railing in order to clear my thoughts.
I’m alone. Who would want to stand around on the patio in the middle of a storm? Occasionally the rain sweeps sideways with the wind, dotting my sleeves.
The door opens and closes. Someone’s on the patio with me, but I don’t turn around to see who.
“You weren’t hard to find.”
Rhett’s voice is unmistakable, despite the howl of wind and the patter of rain.
I exhale and keep my attention on the blue of the pool. “I thought you wouldn’t be here tonight. Something about a homicide.”
“Michael Shelby is dead.”
The statement catches me by surprise. I stare at the water, unseeing, and for a moment, I wonder if Rhett was the one to do him in.
No. Not him. He isn’t one of the guys working with Worldwide Decurion or the Vice mob. He’s straightlaced. Like Miles.
“Where was he?” I ask.
“Staying with a friend. He was shot in their living room by a man named Donny McCoy. I picked up Donny not but two hours ago. He told me a man with a messed-up eye hired him for the hit.”
I don’t move, not while I process the information.
Donny McCoy? I let out a single laugh and smirk. Oh, I see where this is going. Donny is an old fling of mine—a man deep in the Vice family’s pocket. I sure as hell didn’t hire him to kill Shelby, which means he was told to say something like that after he intentionally got caught.
Castor must have reported back about me, and maybe this is Jeremy’s attempt to get me in his grasp. If some of the cops are in league with him, it’ll be easy to find me in jail, where I’ll be behind bars and he’ll have all the power. Pretty clever. I underestimate Jeremy far too often.
Rhett walks over to me and stops a foot away. “Why’d you do it?” he asks. “Does Shelby know all about your shady past? Is that what’s going on?”
“Shelby had a lot of info on dirty cops,” I say. “But he didn’t know anything about me.”
“Dirty cops? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. The guy was paranoid at the end. Knew cops were out for him. They had to silence him, which is what they did, but I guess they want to bring me down too.”
Makes sense. Maybe Castor spoke about my attempt to bring him in to the police. Maybe they’re onto my investigation and want me to stop. Permanently.
“You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with this?” Rhett asks, amusement in his voice.
“No,” I say. “I expect you’re happy to bring me in, no matter how tenuous the connection.”
“This Donny character seems to know you. I’m willing to bet he can identify you in all sorts of crimes.”
“I bet he can.”
Rhett chuckles. “I knew you were a thug, but I didn’t think you’d be this blasé about it.”
Eh. Rhett caught me on the right night. It was bound to happen eventually. I’ve been too lax, and now I’ve got a hardline decision to make. It’s better that this happened sooner rather than later. I’ve already made up my mind in terms of Miles—there’s nothing left I can do for him besides bow out and let him continue, unburdened by my past. Me getting arrested will force the issue. I can’t mess up anything for him later.
But I told Miles I wouldn’t leave the event, though it looks like I don’t have much of a choice. I stand up straight, face Rhett, and hold out my arms. “Let’s get this over with,” I mutter.
Rhett, dressed in a bulletproof vest and tactical gear, takes a step back and places a hand on his sidearm. I roll my eyes, turn around, and get my arms behind my back.
Odd he came alone to apprehend me. I figured cops brought backup to showdowns like this, but what do I know? Maybe he has a buddy with a sniper rifle in the next building over. Or maybe he’s always been brazen and figures I’m no threat.
Rhett grabs my arm and jerks me close. I glare, and he returns the gesture. “Let’s not make a scene,” he says. “For Miles’s sake. He doesn’t need any sort of negative reputation starting his career.”
“Am I being cooperative, or am I being cooperative?” I ask, sardonic.
“Stay close. I have a transport team ready to take you in.”
He leads me away from the patio and back into the main room.
The speakers are still giving speeches—all about the great achievements of the students and the police officers who came before—but we leave the banquet hall in favor of a much narrower corridor. Rhett, attentive as ever, keeps one eye on me the whole time.
My thoughts linger on Jeremy, however, not so much escape. What’s going to happen when I get back in that man’s company? I doubt he’ll be forgiving. I watched the man shoot his own father because he wasn’t given enough power
