The irritation in his voice is too real to be faked. “Gino’s payroll?” I ask softly.
“I know that fucker’s up to something.” A muscle in his jaw twitches, his eyes blazing. “Gino’s club is a front for something. Faith hinted that it was illegal, but she wouldn’t tell me exactly what. I know that it dealt with the girls, though.”
“But there’s more to it, isn’t there? You know him personally?”
He sighs. “When Faith wouldn’t give me any straight answers, I decided to get some of my own. I called one of those anonymous tip lines, and the cops actually followed through. They raided the club, but whatever they found wasn’t enough to make any arrests. Just get a few unlucky cops who got caught there that night on suspension or some shit. Quietly, of course, as a fucking formality.”
Like Branden.
“Let me guess, you’ve had that this whole fucking time?” Rafe asks, nodding toward the hair clip. “I thought the cops might have been looking for the phone, but that makes sense too.”
“Phone?” I suddenly recall what he revealed about Faith having more than one.
“I figured someone would try something to get even,” he says, ignoring my question. “Pinning Faith’s death on me sure is a start, but it’s a damn good ploy. The motherfucker…” He forms a fist and slams it against the steering wheel, making the horn sound a second time.
“Why?” I ask. “I mean how did you know—”
“Faith came to me scared.” His tone makes me go silent. I’ve never seen him like this—posture so tense he’s trembling, his lips pursed in thought. “She thought I could pull some strings to get her out from under Gino’s thumb. Her parents owed a lot of shit on their house. He gave her the money in exchange for working at his club.”
“But you didn’t give her the money?”
“No,” he admits, his frown deepening. “I didn’t. I pressed her for information instead. And when I learned about the asshole she was dealing with… I called in the raid.”
“And me?” I can barely get the words out. “You knew my ‘boyfriend’ was a cop. Is that the real reason why you were interested in me?”
He sighs. “Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t some fucking soap opera. I was interested in you because I could take one look at you and know there was more to you than some fucking bunny sweater.”
“More,” I echo. “Like my brother being on the police force?”
I’m holding my breath before I realize it, dreading what he might say. As the seconds tick by in silence, I don’t have any other choice but to ask him directly. “Did you want to use me to get to him?”
“And how would I do that, huh?” he demands, raising an eyebrow. “You tell me.”
“Manipulate me,” I say. “Pump me for information. Use me to get back at him. I don’t know—”
“I didn’t know he was your brother,” he insists. “This whole shit was a lot less creepy when you had a fake boyfriend.”
“So, now what?”
“Now?” He inhales, gripping the steering wheel, his gaze determined. “We figure out what the asshole is planning. I don’t think the police are at my place just for some fucking hair pin, bunny.”
He’s right. “You’re their suspect.”
“I can’t even blame them,” he says with a cold laugh. “I’d suspect me too. But they’re looking in the wrong direction.”
“Because Faith had another phone,” I finish for him. Another realization dawns on me as I watch him nod. “And you know where it is.”
“That night you saw her at my place? She gave it to me then. The phone that matters anyway.”
I can clearly recall that moment in his warehouse.
“Why didn’t you turn it in?” I ask. “Why didn’t you—”
“I’m not turning shit in until I know for sure what’s on it,” he counters. “I’m not letting anyone whitewash this case.”
“So, what did you find?”
He grits his teeth in a rare display of vulnerability. “Nothing. It’s locked. Password-protected, and I’m already on my last try. She never actually told me what it is. I thought it might be the guy’s name, but DW hasn’t worked. Go fucking figure.”
I suck in a startled breath. “Is that really why you had the police roster?”
He nods, oblivious to my shock. “Call me Sherlock Holmes, bunny. But DW must be an alias or some shit. Or she was lying about him being a cop at all.”
Or ‘DW’ didn’t stand for the culprit’s initials in the way he expected.
“Her phone was supposed to hold whatever information she had,” he adds. “Don’t ask me what. She was vaguer than you when it came to detail.”
“Show me?”
I can’t describe the way he looks at me. Impressed? Guarded? “You think you can crack it when I couldn’t?”
I don’t answer. Maybe because if my hunch is correct, it could change everything, the final nail in the coffin.
If I’m right, my life, or my family, will never be the same.
“Bunny?” Rafe prods, nudging my shoulder.
“Just show me,” I whisper. I don’t sound confident in the slightest. Just resigned.
“I’ll take you there. I put it somewhere safe,” Rafe says, putting the car back into gear.
Warily, I ask, “Where?”
But I can guess the destination before he even says it out loud.
The one place he seems to frequent even more than his shop.
Chapter Sixteen
Unsurprisingly, we wind up in the same rundown area as his warehouse. Given the instructions he gave me the day Gino’s men attacked him, this place must mean a lot to him.
“Is this your safe house?” I ask though I don’t even know if that’s the right term.
Apparently not because he laughs as he exits the car. When I copy him, he’s still laughing, his eyes gleaming with a hint of something that could
