Page 36 of Nightfire

Ellen smiled gently. “I didn’t think so.” She shot another glance at Nicole. “We didn’t think so. And the reason why we’re being so nosy and probably annoying you no end by butting into your affairs is that we want Mike to find some happiness. He deserves it.”

Nicole leaned forward. “He saved our lives. Both our lives. We’ll tell you the stories some other time, but the truth of it, the thing you have to know, is that when our lives were in danger, Mike didn’t hesitate. Sam and Harry, well, they were in love. It was a given they’d put their lives on the line. Mike did what he did out of devotion to his brothers, but also because, for all his tomcatting around, he’s like an old-fashioned knight. We’re worried for him. Worried that he’s been framed for something he didn’t do. That he’s in a mess he can’t get out of.”

“And we’re worried that at the moment he’s found a woman he can care for, he’s going to lose his chance, together with his freedom,” Ellen said bluntly. She squeezed Chloe’s hand. “Please tell me this won’t spoil anything. Please tell me you’ll give Mike a chance. I’ve never seen him look as happy as he did today. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He so deserves a chance at love. Don’t take that away from him.”

Both women were looking at her with hope in their eyes.

Chloe suddenly stood, crossing the room to her purse. They desperately wanted to help Mike and, God help her, so did she. There was one woman in the world she trusted to get to the truth of the matter. It was the one number she had on speed dial.

Nicole and Ellen were watching her, vibes of hope and worry all but quivering around them. “Okay. You want to help Mike? So do I.” She smiled at the voice that answered. “Amanda? This is Chloe. Yes, in San Diego. Amanda, I need your help.” She looked at the two women watching her and, for the first time in her life, felt the sharp, warm bite of family. “We need your help.”

“Let’s go over it again,” Kelly said in the interrogation room and Mike stifled a groan. They’d gone over it and over it and over it.

The bare, ugly room smelled of male tension and despair. Probably what a prison cell smelled like. Mike hoped to God he’d never find out, but it didn’t look good.

Mike couldn’t blame Kelly. Mila had ID’d him as the man who’d attacked her the minute she woke up from surgery. Defending the real son of a bitch who’d put her in the hospital. Mike understood the police thought they had an air tight case. They didn’t. But they did have enough evidence to keep him in jail until a trial date could be set.

His brothers wouldn’t allow that. They’d meet any bail the DA set, which made Mike even angrier because it just so happened that this was a tight moment for money. They’d just bought ten thousand acres of land in Baja to use as a law enforcement training center and shooting range for Mexican police trainees who were fighting a vicious drug war. It had been Ellen’s idea and it was a good one but the cost of the huge tract of land and creating ranges and shooting houses had drained them. RBK would have to borrow the money to make his bail. Then his brothers would borrow even more to get him a high-priced criminal lawyer.

RBK would go into the hole because of him. The two families would have to tighten their belts because of him. Because he’d behaved like a hormonal teenager instead of a responsible adult.

The thought made him sick.

He was innocent. His brothers should just let him rot here until evidence proving him innocent came up or until the case went to trial. Sam and Harry wouldn’t allow that, but he wished they would. Just leave him here and let the truth wind its way to him.

Mike didn’t want to go home, anyway. He didn’t want to face Ellen and Nicole and above all, he didn’t want to face Chloe. The look on her face when she’d heard what he’d done…Mike didn’t have anywhere to go with the burning shame inside him. That sense of hope he’d had since he’d set eyes on her, the glowing warmth in her eyes when she looked at him, those hot tender kisses promising much more—all gone.

Mike couldn’t stand the thought of the disappointment she must be feeling, how confused and hurt she must be.

Fuck.

He’d faced gunfire and mortars without flinching, but the idea of watching a pale Chloe avert her gaze when she saw him—couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t do it.

He deserved to rot in jail. Not because he’d done what they were accusing him of—he hadn’t hurt that woman in any real way— but because he had twenty years of drinking and fucking around behind him with no excuses. He’d spent twenty years rolling out of beds he shouldn’t have been in, having fucked women he didn’t care about.

What did that make him?

“I went to a bar called The Cave,” he began again, voice calm and remote. “I got there at around midnight. I met a woman there. We talked briefly⁠—"

There was a knock at the door that surprised both Mike and Kelly. You don’t interrupt an interrogation, that was an iron rule. Kelly’s jaw clenched and Mike felt sorry for the rookie who didn’t know better on the other side of the door.

To his surprise, it wasn’t a rookie. It was a detective Mike knew well from his SWAT days, Jerry Klein, and—Jesus. Harry and Sam, right behind him.

Kelly rose, furious. He was right to be. What the fuck were Harry and Sam thinking? This wasn’t an expression of solidarity with a friend, this was interference with due process. There were legal implications to stopping a law enforcement officer from carrying out his duties.

Before Kelly could open his mouth to blast Jerry for allowing civilians into the interrogation room, Jerry put a laptop on the interrogation table.

“Sorry boss, but I thought you needed to see this. These two, ah, civilians brought it to my attention.” Jerry stood at attention, flicking Mike a gaze he couldn’t interpret. Then, amazingly, Jerry winked at him.

What the fuck?

Jerry powered up the laptop and stepped back to give Harry access to the keyboard.

Harry was a wizard at computers, much better than Mike. Everyone leaned forward to watch him do his thing, but his thing turned out to simply be him opening his email.

He moved the mouse around.

“Ellen contacted me with some news. Chloe called this hotshot private investigator in Boston and damned if she didn’t come up with something. Something really important.” The email had a series of attachments. Harry clicked on the first one. It opened and the screen filled with grainy black and white footage shot at night. The camera had a slight wide angle lens, enough to show about ten yards without too great a distortion. Everyone watched as a woman came up, punching in something below the bottom of the screen. It was footage from an ATM. No one spoke as four people walked up and withdrew money. White letters on the bottom right hand side of the screen showed the time and date: Jan 3, 3:02 am. At 3:07 am the screen was blank then a figure appeared at the extreme right hand side and streaked across the screen.