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“And if I’m already involved—personally?”
West regarded him with mild irritation. “Then you take whatever that woman tells you with a grain of salt, and don’t be fooled by a pair of pretty blue eyes and a few tears.”
Nico lifted himself higher in his seat. “I’m sorry, are you implying that she’s lying?”
“I’m just saying people aren’t always what they seem, and there’s two sides to every story. From what I’ve heard, anything Kyle did”—he shrugged—“she liked.”
Leveling the man with his most condemning look, Nico chose his words carefully. “As a professional courtesy, I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear that, Chief, but if you ever say something like that to me again, I’ll lay you out, superior or not. When Lexie came to you for help—”
“She never said—”
“You shut it down because of your friendship with Kyle Garrett. Don’t bother trying to deny it, because we both know you’re lying.”
Despite his earlier interruption, West had fallen silent, taking Nico’s admonition with hatred in his eyes.
“That will not happen again,” Nico said. “I won’t let it.”
Standing, West puffed out his chest indignantly, the gold badge pinned to it catching the light. “This is how you want to play it? Really?”
Nico stood too, saying no more.
“I knew it was a mistake, taking you on. Barely a week into the job and you’re already causing more trouble than you’re worth,” West spat. “You do not come into my office—my town—and threaten me, do you understand? I am the chief of police. You?” He looked Nico up and down with distaste. “You’re nothing more than a goddamn liability. Damaged goods.” At Nico’s widened eyes, he added, “Oh, yeah, I looked into you. I know all about what happened, why you’re really here.” He shook his head like Nico was a disgrace. “Sara Riley’s death is on you, and instead of leaving well enough alone, here you are trying to make something out of nothing just so you might have a chance to right something that can’t be righted!”
West’s voice had risen considerably by the time he was through. He huffed and sat back down while Nico let the words wash over him, dousing the flames of his anger, leaving nothing behind but a smoldering shell of self-loathing and the nagging question: was West right? Was he using Lexie’s situation as a means of penance to rid himself of his own guilt? Was what he felt for her just a natural reaction to his need to protect her, to ensure another woman didn’t die on his watch ever again? Was he making this a personal vendetta simply because he didn’t want to face the truth; that he’d failed, and there was nothing he could do to change that?
All of these questions rolled through Nico’s mind in a matter of seconds. When he finally landed on a conclusion—that this was not the way to go about things, and it was time to be a fucking grown up—he cleared his throat. “You’re right. I’m out of line.”
“No.” West waved a regretful hand, rubbed his brow. “Look, the truth is, I probably could have done more when she first told me what was going on, but it was her word against his, and I had orders from my chief to drop it. I mean, what would you do if your best friend’s wife suddenly started telling everyone he was a manipulative alcoholic who was going to hurt her?”
“There were witnesses,” Nico quietly countered. “Incidents at her workplace.”
“None of which she reported. What was I supposed to do?”
Your fucking job.
Nico’s mouth hung open as he tried to justify West’s words with an appropriate response. This town—this island—was more cut off from the rest of the world than he realized, certain residents thinking they were a law unto themselves just because they sat at the end of a long line of founding families. He’d heard about the Garretts and the sway they held here. The control they wielded whenever, and wherever, it suited them. It seemed Mercy Cove had its very own thriving underbelly. A petri dish of violence and corruption that operated in an independent little ecosystem—very different to what the tourist brochures touted, that’s for sure—and the man in charge of keeping order was seemingly content to let it happen. But why?
Deciding a direct approach would be best, Nico asked, “Why are you protecting him?”
West folded his arms. “Kyle is an imperfect man, but he’s no murderer.”
Avoiding the question.
“Lexie didn’t choke herself,” Nico gritted out.
“Which is why we’re bringing him in,” West said, each word a warning to tread carefully.
Finally, the conversation was turning a promising direction.
“Update the others,” West ordered gruffly. “Scour every inch of the town until you find Kyle. Oh, and Lieutenant?” He called, stopping Nico midway out the door. “Don’t ever come at me with that kind of attitude again.”
Nico swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter fourteen
Nico let his car sit in idle for a good five minutes outside Kyle Garrett’s apartment building. He killed the engine and sat for another minute more. Seth—whom he’d asked to come along for no other reason than he didn’t altogether trust himself to do this alone—seemed to understand and sat quietly in the passenger seat while Nico mulled things over in his mind.
What the hell was he doing here? Why didn’t he let someone else handle it? Was it curiosity? Did he simply want to lay eyes on the asshole, talk to him face to face, gauge exactly who he was dealing with? Was it some kind of sick excitement—a relief, maybe?—to have a lead for the murder case that had absolutely nothing to do with himself and his past? Or was it something else entirely? Something to do with the rage burning in his gut and the itch to put blood on his knuckles every time he pictured the bruises on Lexie’s neck? West had mentioned his problem with “challenging authority” the first time they’d met, which was just a roundabout way of saying Nico didn’t always follow the rules. It was true. And as he ignored every part of his brain screaming at him to drive away and let someone else make the arrest; he had a bad feeling his file would be getting a page or two thicker before the day was out.
