Make Me Up (Killer Style 3)

“He came by for a cup?” Reggie asked.

Wouldn’t that have been cozy? Nothing like death threats delivered via piping hot coffee. If

Diamond Tommy ever got the idea, he’d love it.

“Sniper on a nearby rooftop.” Cam took another swig of beer. “He told her she had two options: get the hell out of Dodge or die. If she comes in, Tommy will know she hasn’t split town and come after her with lethal force.”

“I can keep her safe,” Reggie said.

“For how long? We both know Tommy has cops on his payroll. And he wants her—bad. I can’t bring her in until we figure out why. It’s the only way to make sure she stays safe.”

“What’s Diamond Tommy’s issue with Drea Sanford?”

Wasn’t that the key question? “If I knew, I’d tell you.”

Reggie muttered something that sounded a lot like fuck me. “Are you saying he’s the one behind the murder?”

“I doubt it. He’s not the kind of guy who’d hesitate to take credit. But I don’t doubt he’s connected to it.”

“The case just keeps getting worse,” Reggie said.

“Pretty much.”

“You run, it’ll just make her look more guilty. We’ll have no choice but to come after her.”

“You’re preaching to the choir. But Tommy was pretty clear. That was exactly what he wanted and I’m going to lull him into thinking that’s exactly what he got. We get out, or he takes her out.”

“So bring her in, we’ll keep her safe until we figure it all out. You can’t always do everything by yourself you know.”

There was only one person Cam trusted with that task, and that was himself. “Are you nuts? How many times has the force tried and failed to nail Diamond Tommy? He’s got spies everywhere and plenty of paid muscle that carries the same badge you do.”

The words came out harsher than Cam had intended. Of course Reggie knew there were dirty cops in his department. Hell, it was one of the reasons he refused to leave the force. The public needed at least one cop they could trust.

Reggie said, “You think you’ll do better after we slap an aiding and abetting charge on you?”

The threat rolled off Cam like water off a duck’s back. “I’ll take my chances.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“So I’ve been told.” But he’d learned a long time ago to follow his gut, even when everyone and their mother urged him to go the other way.

Reggie let loose a long, gusty sigh. “I’ll stall for as long as I can, but the charges are coming. When they do, you have to make sure she comes in. Don’t screw up your life for just another piece of ass.”

Heat blasted up from the soles of his feet, turning any good will to ash. Nobody talked about Drea like that. “She’s not.”

“What?”

“Another piece of ass.” Maybe she had been at one point. A challenge. A hot girl to add to his list. A soft escape. Someone to sink himself into until he couldn’t think about or feel anything but her. But that had changed over the past year since he’d met her at the hospital where Sylvie was recovering from an attack by her nut job stalker. Knowing Drea, the person and not just her body, had changed that. “She’s more.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Reggie said, then let loose a wry laugh. “I can give you twenty-four hours, maybe forty-eight. After that, I can’t make any promises. This case is going to give me a stroke.”

Equilibrium restored, Cam relaxed. “Don’t die until we’re in the clear.”

“I’ll hang on just to see how you pull magic out of your ass.”

“Do that.” He hung up and tossed a twenty on the bar, then grabbed the drinks and headed back to the booth where Drea waited, unaware that the ticking clock had just upgraded to sonic speed mode.

Chapter Seven