Page 36 of My Beautiful Sin

“Yes, they did. If you’re waiting for me to shed a tear about that, you’ll be waiting a while.”

“So why the identity change? Your father was dead.”

“And being dead, his enemies had no one to come after. They would have turned to me.”

Lamar nodded. “Yeah, okay, I get that.” He took a sip of his drink. “On the whole, you’ve been remarkably honest. Giving Ellie carte blanche to talk with me was a risk.”

“I’m disposed to trust you because Ellie does, and she’s no fool. The jury’s still out on whether I like you.”

“Cheers to that,” Lamar said, lifting his glass in toast.

“But this isn’t about you, Detective, as much as you might like to think it is. It’s not even about me. It’s about Ellie. It’s about a woman I hurt deeply once, and I don’t intend to ever hurt again. Not being able to talk to you was hurting her. I’m sorry if that puts an unexpected and unwanted burden on you, but like I said, this isn’t about you, and your burdens aren’t my concern.”

“They are if I decide to arrest you.”

“No. That would be a different burden. An irritation that I’d have to fight. A waste of my time and my money. But I’d beat the charge. All things being equal, though, I’d rather not bother.”

Lamar tossed back the rest of his whiskey in one swallow, then put the glass on the table with a clunk. He stood, and for the first time in his life, Devlin couldn’t read a man he was negotiating with. Probably because this wasn’t a negotiation. Business was business, but emotions were something else entirely. And he had no idea how Lamar’s emotions were going to play out.

“You hurt her, and all bets are off.”

Devlin fought not to show his relief as Lamar continued. “I find out you’re just a shined up version of your father, and I will take you down.”

“I wouldn’t blame you.”

Lamar stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I liked you fine before Ellie came back. You seemed like a solid leader in the community. A guy who gave back and cared. So I suppose I can give you the benefit of the doubt now.”

Devlin stood as well. “That’s appreciated. Though I should probably tell you that before Ellie came back, I didn’t think about you at all. I didn’t even have a clue you existed.”

Lamar chuckled. “Well, guess I fixed that problem.”

“I’d say you did. Or, more accurately, Ellie did.” He paused. “She loves you, you know.”

Lamar shook his head. “Oh, hell, no. It’s not like that. There was a time I wouldn’t have kicked her out of my bed, but we are long past that. If we tease, don’t think—”

“I know. What I mean is that she loves you. You’re one of her closest friends. So whatever you choose to do with the information about me—well, you’ve got a pass there as far as I’m concerned. But if you do anything else that hurts her, be forewarned that the scar will go deep.”

To Devlin’s surprise, Lamar grinned. “If that’s the way you think, Saint, then I guess we understand each other.”

“I think we do.” He extended his hand. “Detective.”

A moment passed, and then Lamar’s hand closed around his, a firm, solid handshake.

“Your life’s a hell of a story, Saint. Now that our girl’s part of it again, make sure it doesn’t turn into a goddamn tragedy, okay?”

“Agreed,” Devlin said, surprised and pleased to realize he was starting to genuinely like this guy.

He offered him another drink, but Lamar said he was getting up early to play golf with friends before going with Ellie to LA. “Does it bother you? The way she’s doubling down to investigate Peter and how he got mixed up with your father and all of that?”

“A bit,” he admitted. “Less now that you know the score.”

For a moment Lamar looked puzzled. “You thought we might stumble across something and I’d make the connection. Figure out who you are.”

“I’m afraid someone already has.”

Lamar frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Devlin opened his phone and showed Lamar the copy of the text Ellie had forwarded. “Sent from a burner,” he said. “Untraceable.”