“No. Why would he be?”
“He’s not in his office. I can’t find him.” Sam paled, and his out of breath appearance made Forrest frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“There’s a detective in the foyer, claiming we have building code violations. She’s telling me she has the right to search us.”
Forrest shoved himself away from the bar and stormed out down the hallway toward the foyer. He knew who would be waiting for him there and what he saw didn’t impress him one bit. Diaz was exactly as he imagined, with dark hair pulled tightly into a bun and a perfectly pressed suit that clung to all her curves. In another life, she might have made a high-paid professional, if she wasn’t so clearly driven by the law.
Her gaze shot to him and trailed down his body, from head to toe, taking in the tight jeans that were almost painted on his legs and the tight T-shirt that clung to his chest. “Good morning.”
“Who are you?” Forrest asked, even though he already knew the answer. He couldn’t let her know they were on to her.
“My name is Detective Diaz, and I’m here on official business. We’ve had reports of building code violations.” She pulled out her phone and pointed it at him. Forrest turned his face away just as she clicked a photo.
“I didn’t realize detectives did building inspections, Diaz.” Conall strode down the stairs, his bodyguards and Rourke right on his heels.
“Didn’t you hear from your mob boss boyfriend, Morrissey? I no longer investigate homicides and other interesting crime scenes. He made sure of that. I have to keep myself entertained somehow.” Her smirk irked Forrest in ways he couldn’t explain. He wanted to wipe it off her face.
Conall and Rourke paused in front of her, rage passing over their faces. Rourke hid his better, though. Forrest knew Rourke too well by now, and he didn’t miss the fury, even if Rourke had learned to keep his face stoic.
Conall dressed in a way Forrest hadn’t seen before, with a ribbed white turtleneck, crisp gray pants and white shoes. While it suited him, it certainly wasn’t something Forrest expected to see him in. Forrest couldn’t see the bright red collar under the turtleneck, but he knew it was likely still latched on Conall’s neck, reminding everyone of who he belonged to.
Rourke looked as elegant as he always did, with his navy pinstriped suit. Underneath his waistcoat a white shirt and bright maroon, nearly brown, tie shouted class. He stood tall, with his back straight, appearing to be every bit of a provocateur that he was.
“You don’t have a warrant, detective,” Rourke said, his voice strong and dominating. “Unless you wish to be demoted even further, I suggest you leave right now.”
She regarded him carefully. “I know who you are, of course. Rourke Tormey. A few friends have told me about you, and what they’ve tried to catch you on. Slimy snake, aren’t you?”
Rourke’s smile was downright smug, probably because she had no idea how close she’d been to catching him, too, if what Rourke said last night held any truth. “Snakes eat mice, detective. Are you a mouse?”
“Is that a threat?” She shot forward, but two guards shoved themselves between her and Conall, who still stood next to Rourke. She looked up at both of them, face contorted in anger. “I’m going to bring every single one of you to justice. You’ll bebeggingme for leniency.”
“The only thing we’ll be begging you for is to stop making us laugh at your desperation,” Forrest snapped before he could stop himself.
She turned to him. “Are you a whore? Tell me, what do you get out of random men fucking you? They don’t know your name, and they don’t care. You’re nothing but a quick party to them.”
Forrest smiled sweetly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, detective. I’m just an employee of the Killough Company. Here at the Virtue, we take in homeless men and women and train them to take control of their future. All the paperwork can be found at the courthouse.”
Conall sniggered. “The detective is aware of that, it’s why she’s here looking for proof that we’re not who we say we are.”
“Well, the detective needs to be careful, if she doesn’t want us to report her for harassment.” Rourke shifted closer to Diaz. “You’re not a building inspector, and as such, I’ll ask that you leave this establishment immediately before I call the real cops.”
She sneered, and if looks could kill, Rourke would be six feet under. Taking a step closer to him, she sized him up, and by the twist of her lips, she must have found herself wanting. Rourke wasn’t a small man. He had wide shoulders and a strong, muscular body. While he wasn’t the tallest man Forrest ever met, he was still taller than Diaz, and as he stared her down he used every advantage he had to intimidate her.
“Are you the one running this place for them, Tormey?” She pursed her lips, eyes narrowed. “Iwilltake the Killough Company down, and you have a choice. Get taken down with them, or tell me everything you know. Choose the right side.”
Rage clouded those gorgeous cobalt eyes that Forrest loved so much, and Rourke stepped forward again until he nearly stood chest to chest with her. Forrest gave her kudos for not backing down. Instead, she raised her chin and met his stare. “I am on the right side. Now get out, before I call your captain.”
“Admitting that you have him on a short leash, are you?” She smiled, but as much as she tried to play confident, Forrest saw through her act. She was shitting herself. “I’ll take him down too.”
Rourke laughed, and it wasn’t the genuine amused sort that Forrest heard once or twice before. This one was mocking, a cruel sound that made Forrest’s stomach flush hot with a mixture of desire and fear. “If you say so, detective. What happens with your Internal Affairs isn’t any of our business.”
Conall moved closer too. “Goodbye, Detective Diaz.”
She glared at him. “This won’t be the last time you hear from me.”
“I truly hope not. I do enjoy our interactions.” Conall fluttered his fingers at her in a wave.
