“What?”
Ellie turned the paper around, pointing to the familiar signature at the bottom of the page. “Harold Fortis.”
“Ohhh.” Jillian leaned closer. “There’s an asterisk by his name. I’ve seen those a few times. I wonder what they mean.”
“It’s something the detectives do to mark the milestone. This is Fortis’s first case as a homicide detective. That’s why he remembered it.” Ellie shook her head, staring at the paper in awe. “I’m surprised he trusted me with something like this.”
“I’m not. Fortis has never said it outright, but I’ve heard him put cops in their place when they popped off about you. Fortis has faith in you. He may be the only one who believes Jones was a dirty cop. It makes sense that he would trust you with this. At least he’s on your side.”
Ellie nodded, but she couldn’t help the feeling of dread that settled on her heart. “Or he knows something we don’t know.”
“What do you mean by that?” Jillian’s voice rose an octave, belying the tension they both felt.
“I don’t know yet, but something feels off about this.” She met Jillian’s worried gaze with one of her own. “This changes nothing. Until we find proof that Fortis isn’t dirty too, the only people we can trust in the department is each other.”
11
Walking into the office Tuesday morning, the hot South Carolina sun beat down on my head, and it was only the second week of April. I held the Charleston Herald up to shield my eyes, annoyed that I’d forgotten sunglasses.
The universe was plotting against me, and I had a feeling as I walked through the entryway and got onto the creaking elevator that the day would be a wash. But I had big plans on the horizon, so I had to focus my energy on making it through the day without killing anyone important.
Gabe was already on a call when I walked into my private waiting room. He flashed me a gorgeous smile, his dark eyes—like the most decadent chocolate—clear and alert. They were his most perfect feature. On a face as gorgeous as Gabe’s, that was saying something.
I returned his smile and took the freshly brewed cup of coffee he offered. “You always know exactly what I need.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners, but he only nodded, his attention still on the caller. I could hear the pathetic male voice whining over the headset Gabe wore to keep his hands free so he could type. Whoever the caller was, he had a lot of problems. Problems he’d probably created for himself.
I hated him instantly, without even knowing his name.
A quick sip from my coffee cup hid the curl of my lip. I strolled to my office, leaving Gabe to deal with the whining loser. He’d be my problem soon enough. If he was lucky, I’d help him find a permanent solution to his pitiful complaints.
By the time I sat down behind my desk, I was smiling again. Having another prospect for my experiment was an exciting possibility. And planting the seed had taken less and less time with each new subject. Joshua Gibson had been the easiest of all, and I was eager to see if this latest caller would present the challenge I craved.
I set the Charleston Herald on the desk in front of me, perusing the headlines for something interesting to pass the time while I finished my coffee. The front page was nothing but sensationalized nonsense and minor events blown way out of proportion with eye-catching photos to sell papers. How half of Charleston functioned from day to day was a mystery to me. What would they do if there was ever a real crisis in the city?
Sighing, I turned the page and froze. A beady-eyed, greased, weasel of a man stared back at me in grainy black and white, his mugshot just another opportunity to schmooze to the camera. Probably completely sure that his status would save him from his own stupidity, Arthur Fink had stared straight into the camera without an ounce of shame on his face.
I wanted to reach through the paper, wrap my hand around his throat, and throttle him until the light drained from his eyes and his body went limp.
His careless bragging had brought attention onto the club that we didn’t need, and I’d lost a good business partner in the process. Detective Roy Jones had certainly had his faults, but he’d kept the wolves from the door for over a decade and at only half the price I would’ve paid someone with half his skill. Now that he was gone, I would eventually have to find someone else to fill that void.
My hand trembled as I skimmed the story on Fink, shaking my head at the arrogance of this one useless man. If we didn’t get him handled soon, he would no doubt take us all down with him. There was no way I would just let that happen.
I jumped when the intercom on the phone buzzed beside me. “What?” I snapped before I took a breath and quieted my tone. “What is it, Gabe?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but she’s adamant that she speak to you now.”
She?
“All new clients get a baseline assessment at their first session. Whoever is on the phone will have to wait like every other patient.”
There was a brief pause on Gabe’s end. “I scheduled the new client who was on the phone already. But this woman called three times while I was on the phone with the other guy, and she is demanding that I put her through or give her your direct line.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That if she was someone who should have your direct number, she would already have it and wouldn’t be calling me in the first place.”
His snappy retort tore a laugh from my chest. “Good man. Get her name and tell her I’ll call her back at my earliest
