Неизвестный - 6. Justice For All

“Shit,” Rebecca muttered. If politics weren’t bad enough, now she had a high-ranking cleric in the middle of her case. “This has the makings of a real media nightmare.”

“You know,” Sloan said, “as soon as Clark gets wind of this, that’s the guy he’s going to go after. The church will want the priest to cooperate and turn state’s evidence. The other guys in this photo—they might get fancy lawyers to keep their names out of the paper, protect their interests. But with a priest, nothing has to be made public and he’s still completely fucked if they ship him off to some backwater parish. His political power and influence within the church will go up in smoke.”

“And once Clark gets his witness,” Jason added, “he’s not going to care about anything else. He might even convince the brass to pull the plug on our end of things.”

“Which leaves us with nothing,” Rebecca said, thinking about the men who would still be left to take advantage of girls like Sandy.

“Jason, print me out a copy of Bishop Thomas and his friends. I feel the need for a little salvation coming on.”

v

• 249 •

RADclY fFe

Rebecca knocked on the door to Sandy’s room. “You decent?”

“No. Come on in.”

Laughing, Rebecca pushed the door open. Sandy, wearing a PPD

T-shirt, sat up in bed, the covers pooled around her waist. She had an open magazine in her lap. The left side of her face was swollen and when she tossed the magazine aside, she moved carefully.

“Mind a visitor for a few minutes?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you anyhow.” Sandy patted the space beside her. “You can sit here. I’m too sore to jump your bones.”

There was no chair in the room, so Rebecca sat where Sandy indicated and clasped her hands around her bent knee. “How are the ribs?”

“They’re okay as long as I don’t move too fast or poke them.”

“I’m sorry about the other night.”

Sandy narrowed her eyes. “Why? You didn’t hit me.”

“You shouldn’t have been out without backup. Not on this operation.” Rebecca shook her head. “We should have placed an undercover cop with you. Someone from vice, maybe.”

“No way,” Sandy said dismissively. “You know these guys can smell a cop in the next state. Plus, you’re not going to have anyone young enough. These guys, they like them young. I’m surprised I made the cut.”

“You look young, Sandy.” Rebecca took a deep breath. “I don’t want you going out again.”

Sandy sat up straighter, then grimaced. “Fuck.”

Rebecca put her hand on Sandy’s arm. “Hey. Take it easy. I didn’t come here to upset you.”

“Then stop acting like you get a say in my life.”

“I get a say in what you do for me. And I say—”

“Look, I feel like shit. I don’t want to fight with you, okay?” Sandy covered Rebecca’s hand.

The contact was so out of character that Rebecca took a few seconds to react. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up right now. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I will be.” Sandy withdrew her hand. “But I’m glad you came by.

There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something I don’t want you to tell Dell.”

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Justice for All

“Sandy.” Rebecca shook her head. “She’s my officer. Hell. And you’re my CI. I knew this was a bad idea.”

Sandy laughed and then caught herself, rubbing her side. “Just listen. Okay? You think you can do that?”

“I’ll try, but it’s not my strong suit.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Sandy hitched up the oversized T-shirt that had fallen down over her shoulder. “Here’s the deal.”

When she finished, Rebecca studied her for a long moment. Sandy held her gaze, looking years older than her age.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I really am.”

“Okay then.”

Sandy’s eyes flashed. “You mean it?”

“Yes. I mean it.” Rebecca squeezed Sandy’s knee. “But you have to deal with Mitchell. And soon.”

“Okay,” Sandy said with a sigh. “I will.”

• 251 •

• 252 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-FIvE

Alone in the office, Sloan stared at the screen. A lot more than a minute had passed since she’d traced the IP address for the computer where the images of Michael and Zamora had originated and pulled up a name and address for the account. Frye expected her to provide the details as soon as she was certain, preferably within sixty seconds. Before she took action. That was the part Sloan struggled with, because as soon as she turned over the information, what happened next would be out of her hands. And Michael’s safety was at risk.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, trying to sort through the labyrinth of choices, some of which would take her well outside the law.

“What’s the matter?” Michael said from behind her.

“I’m pretty sure if I open my eyes,” Sloan said, not moving, “I’m going to see the Sword of Damocles right above my head.”

“So if I’ve got this right,” Michael began to knead the bunched muscles in Sloan’s shoulders, “you know something you’re not certain you want to know. That’s not like you.”

“I know.” Sloan opened her eyes, swiveled her chair around, and tugged Michael onto her lap. Kissing her neck, she said, “I think I’m losing my edge.”

“No, you’re not. You’re finding a different edge.” Michael rested her cheek against the top of Sloan’s head. “Tell me.”

Sloan hesitated. Involving Michael went against every instinct she had. Her need for secrecy, her need to protect, her need to mete out justice according to her own rules. She’d lived by those tenets all her

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life, and the one time she’d broken her own rules, she’d paid with her career and a huge piece of her heart. But all that had transpired before Michael. And now everything had changed.

She took a breath, and before she could question where this new path would take her, she said, “I know who sent the pictures of you and Zamora. I’m supposed to tell Frye.” She looked at her watch. “Twenty-two minutes ago.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Why aren’t you asking me who it is?”

Michael caressed the side of Sloan’s neck. “Because I care about you more than I care about them.”

“If I tell Rebecca, then what happens will be beyond my control.”

“What do you want to do that Rebecca would stop you from doing?” Michael asked as calmly as she could, but her heart was racing and she felt slightly sick to her stomach. She didn’t fear what Sloan was capable of, only what Sloan might suffer as a consequence of her actions. She felt as if she were walking through a minefield, but she would not be the victim of a misstep. Sloan would. Michael was certain of only one thing. All that mattered was helping Sloan find her way to a decision that would not destroy her. “Baby?”

“I want to pay her a visit.”

Michael stiffened. “Her?”

“Yes. The redhead you saw talking to me at the fund-raiser the other night.” Sloan laughed shortly. “I guess that wasn’t a coincidence.”

“Apparently not,” Michael said coolly. “What kind of game do you think she’s playing?”

“I imagine they’re hoping to buy my cooperation with a threat to you.”

“So why would she reveal herself to you at all? Why not a phone call? A message on your computer?” Michael walked a few paces away, then spun around. “She might be in league with Zamora, or someone like that. But she’s got her own agenda.” Michael pointed a finger at Sloan. “And you are on the menu.”

Sloan’s eyebrows rose. “Me?”