“You best say your goodbyes now.” Brentwood checked the time on his phone. “I’ll take her into the station and get her statement.”
“I want a guarantee in writing,” I declared. “Ace is untouchable. He has nothing to do with this. And you shut down every one of those assholes running the operation out of Ricky’s house. Those girls go free and get the help they need.”
Brentwood’s jaw flexed. “You want a guarantee?”
I looked at Trouble, wondering if she’d noticed the way his voice had changed too. She said this was a done deal, but suddenly, I wasn’t so sure.
“Here’s your guarantee,” Brentwood pulled out his weapon, and my heart dropped.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked.
Beside me, Trouble froze, her fear radiating around her like a beacon. This wasn’t the plan. At least, not the one she’d agreed to.
“Here’s your fucking guarantee.” Brentwood fired his pistol, and I stumbled backward, too terrified to process what was happening. I thought I’d been shot, but when I looked beside me, I realized with horrifying clarity that wasn’t what happened at all.
Trouble was crumpled onto the ground beside me, her head cracked open like a watermelon. Blood and pieces of her skull littered the pavement, and I couldn’t even make out her face anymore. She was gone. She was fucking dead. Just like that.
I screamed, and Brentwood shook his head as he leaned down and jabbed me in the arm with something. His mouth moved as though he’d spoken, but I couldn’t understand. Everything was slowing down. Fading away. And I was coming apart at the seams.
The last thing I smelled was his cologne, the sickly cloying scent of black licorice.
“SO THAT’S IT?” THE DETECTIVE leaned down into my face as he spoke. “You’ve got nothing else to say?”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I smirked. “How about fuck you.”
“Ace,” Lucian warned from beside me. He’d told me several times already to behave, but I was past the point of playing nice with these motherfuckers.
“He has nothing else to say,” Lucian informed the detective. “Either charge him or send us on our way.”
There was a knock on the door, and the other detective popped his head in, shaking it in disappointment. Obviously, they hadn’t turned up anything at my house. They hadn’t found any evidence to hold me, and more importantly, they hadn’t found Birdie. I felt like I could breathe again as I leaned back in the chair. Trouble had done what she was asked. She’d taken her somewhere safe.
“We’ll be in touch.” The asshole playing bad cop snarled as he opened the door and gestured for me to leave. “In fact, I’d say you can expect some regular visits from us.”
“Looking forward to it,” I muttered as Lucian escorted me out the door. Honestly, I knew I was fucked. Keeping Birdie safe while the hounds of LVPD were breathing down my neck would be next to impossible. But I’d have to figure out a way to make it work. Not being together wasn’t a choice.
Kodiak met us in the parking lot, and none of us said a word. Lucian drove us to the church where he often divulged his own confessions, and Father Hawk allowed us inside and lent us the privacy of the space while he disappeared.
“What did you find on Joe Crocker?” I asked Kodiak.
His eyes darkened, indicating whatever he’d discovered about the dead man wasn’t good. “He was a sketchy ass motherfucker. Rap sheet a mile long. A lot of stupid shit… drug charges, theft. Got caught up in a few prostitution stings in his younger days.”
“That’s it?” I asked, knowing it couldn’t be the end of it.
Kodiak shifted, his fists curling at his sides. “He was never convicted, but there were accusations. It seems he has a thing for little girls. Conveniently enough, the few potential witnesses either refused to talk or ended up disappearing.”
“Is he from California?” Lucian asked what we were both thinking.
“Yes.” Kodiak nodded in confirmation.
Lucian looked at me. “We need to talk to the girls. They must know who he was.”
I didn’t feel good about breaching that subject with Birdie. She would get defensive and probably just shut down. But Lucian was right. Someone was trying to fuck up all of our lives and take her down. There was no way in hell I would allow that to happen, even if meant prying Birdie’s secrets out of her by force.
“You talk to Gypsy, and I’ll handle Birdie,” I grunted.
Lucian agreed, but Kodiak reached out and grabbed me before I could leave. “There’s just one problem, Ace.”
“What?” I stared at him, trying to decipher the unfamiliar tone of his voice.
“Trouble hasn’t responded to any of my texts or calls for the past three hours.”
“TELL ME!” BRENTWOOD ROARED, SHOVING my head into the bucket of water. His voice was distorted, and I couldn’t make out the rest of what he was saying as I tried to hold my breath and fight the rising panic in my chest.