This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. Ian wasn’t supposed to catch any of his brothers-in-arms in a lie or a half-truth. They were all supposed to be just as disgusted as Ian had been when he’d heard of the FBI press conference.
Cracks began forming in the illusion Ian had held for so many years. He’d always assumed that the rest of his colleagues held to his same standards of morality, that they knew where to draw a line in the sand, and most of all, that they knew when to stop.
Had the cracks always been there? Had Ian just been willfully ignorant this whole time? One thing was certain. Now that Ian was seeing them, he could no longer turn a blind eye.
Anxiety had Ian’s heart playing his ribs like a xylophone. He took another sip of his soda, more to give his hands something to do than because of thirst. He might be feeling anxious, but he couldn’t let on, not now. He couldn’t spook anyone with his odd behavior, especially when talking about Leóne business.
“Yeah, it was nasty shit. The Feds said a few days ago that the Leóne guys at that farm were running a kiddie porn ring on top of everything else they were doing.”
Liam’s dark eyes shot open wide, but the reaction was delayed. “They were running a…a what?”
The fires of anger crept in beside Ian’s trepidation. Maybe if any of you had actually paid attention to who you were dealing with, you wouldn’t be so surprised.
Ian kept the thought to himself as he looked over the shell-shocked expressions of the other three detectives. With any luck, the fabric of their reality would fray as completely as his had.
Scotty combed a hand through his mop of deep copper hair and let out a long breath. “That’s some sick shit, all right. Did the Feds bust all the guys running it?”
Ian scooped up his bowl of chili in an attempt to look casual. “They didn’t say specifically, but it sounded like everything was a done deal. If there was anyone else involved in it, the Feds are keeping it to themselves.”
With a snort, Scotty cracked open a blue and silver can of beer. “That sounds like something the Feds would do. They never tell us anything unless it suits them.”
Ian swallowed a sarcastic remark. Considering that all five of them were affiliated with the Leónes in one way or another, the Feds were more than justified to keep their investigations close to the vest.
“Yeah, well.” Ian pushed the chili around in the bowl. “I’d just heard about it, so I figured I’d mention it. I’m sure the rumor mill will be churning at full force when we get back to the precinct tomorrow.”
The living room lapsed into silence as the four men turned their attention to the game on TV. When Scotty finally broke the spell of quiet, the topic had shifted back to baseball.
Though Ian was glad for the reprieve, he couldn’t shake the gnawing sensation in the back of his head.
At least one of his so-called brothers knew more than they’d let on, and this time, Ian didn’t think he could look the other way.
This time, he had to do something.
For the rest of the night, the Leóne family hadn’t been mentioned, but Ian had kept a close eye on his four friends. Truth be told, the only two who seemed to react to the news were Liam and Scotty. The obvious worry and disappointment on their faces had resonated with Ian, and he could only hope that the reason behind their anxiety was the same as his.
He’d wanted answers, but he was still stuck at square one. His plan to ask his fellow detectives about the Kankakee County farm hadn’t been thought through, and he’d gleaned little to no information from the stinted discussion.
Draping an arm over his eyes to block out the meager glow of the digital clock, Ian groaned. Though he’d headed for bed after the game ended, sleep wasn’t likely to come easy, if at all. He never slept well when Dana was out of town, and with the thoughts whirling through his head that night, he knew his eyes wouldn’t close.
As he shifted to face the nightstand, he pulled the comforter up over his shoulders. Even if he found answers to his questions and had proof that one of his brothers-in-arms was a bottom-feeder who preyed on children, what then?
He could conduct as thorough of an investigation as he wanted, but if he had no plan of action to follow up with, then the effort was pointless.
Internal Affairs was out of the question. If Ian was stupid enough to bring information to the IA department, he’d go down right along with the others. And worse still, he’d be branded a rat. He’d lose everything. Dana, the kids, his home, his life.
He couldn’t do that to them. To himself.
But his alternative options were nonexistent. Internal Affairs or the Feds—those were the only avenues available. Both would end his life as he knew it. Dana would leave, the kids would too, and Ian would be on his own.
Squeezing his eyes closed, he tried to ignore the stone in his stomach as he jammed his face into the pillow. That was a bridge he would cross if and when he came to it. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. Maybe after some rest, he could come up with a better plan.
As Ian focused on his breathing, his thoughts became more scattered and distant. To his surprise, the fog of sleep rolled up to greet him like an old friend, and tension eased away from his tired muscles.
Before he could give himself over to the pull of unconsciousness, a faint click and a beep jerked him from the pleasant drift like
