He knew he’d been dismissed, but he didn’t go. He looked at her face. She knew what he was seeing. The yellowing bruises that her makeup couldn’t quite cover. The deep laceration on the bridge of her nose where Shane Russell had pistol-whipped her.
He said, “I heard the state cleared you on the Shane Russell shooting.”
Jude braced herself for the question she knew was coming. “What was it like?”
She shrugged. “It was like doing my damn job.”
Foley smiled. He shook out his jacket again before slipping it back on. The bell chimed when he left. Jude watched him run to his car in the pummeling rain. She wondered how long it would take him to relay her glib response. The agency loved a punchy soundbite.
Jude knew it was more complicated than that.
She could spend the next fifty years in therapy and never get to the bottom of the rage that had compelled her to empty an entire clip into Shane Russell’s head. Jude could blink and still see the white shard of bone that had been left of his skull.
The image was distasteful, but it didn’t give her nightmares. She wasn’t haunted by the act. She felt absolutely no remorse. Freddy Henley would’ve been proud. He had told Jude thatanyone was capable of murder. She was glad that the depraved serial killer was dead for many reasons, but especially because she never wanted to be tempted to tell Freddy that he was right.
The man on the opposite side of the room took off his pink glasses. He walked toward Jude with a languid, feline stride. The drunks at the bar sat up straighter when they recognized him. The stiff swing of his right arm gave him away.
Lee Rawley sat down across from Jude. He sniffed the air. “Your friend’s still got that new-fed smell, don’t he?”
Jude looked at the button on Lee’s shirt, the logo on his chest, and tried to anchor herself to keep the anxiety at bay.
He said, “Heard Shane Russell lost his head.”
“Went to the wrong house.”
Lee chuckled as he watched Foley’s car pull out of the truck stop. An ominous bolt of lightning flashed in the dark sky.
“You sure you want to do this?” Lee turned back to her. “I’m no fan of Jonah, but this will put him in a world of shit.”
Jonah wasn’t the only one. Neither was Samuel. The poker game had gone underground while the Clayville Police Department rode out multiple scandals. Almost every man who would be in attendance tonight represented some kind of threat to Emmy. Reggie Wilder. Bill Garrison. Allison’s old drug squad.
Lee had promised Jude that they would be caught with lots of drugs, lots of untaxed alcohol, and lots of women.
“All over eighteen,” Jude warned, as if she hadn’t already crossed all sorts of moral lines. “I have your word?”
He held up his hand. “You’re the bitch in charge, sweetheart. I just put the pieces on the board.”
“And made sure your fingerprints aren’t on them.”
“You asked me for help. You didn’t ask me to throw myself on the fire.” Lee dropped his hand to the table. “There’s some local boys who’ve been getting too big for their britches. They’ll take the fall for running the poker game.”
Jude knew they wouldn’t be stupid enough to defy the Rawleys. “I want it clear that what we’re doing is mutually beneficial. Bill Garrison’s vig is probably still running. Reggie’s too hot. His drug squad is radioactive. You can’t use them anymore.”
“C’est la vie.”He grinned. “One thing they’re not gonna stop making is more dirty cops.”
Jude hated that he was right. “None of this can blow back on Emmy.”
“Look at me.” He waited for her to comply. “I would never let that happen.”
Jude felt trapped in the soullessness of his eyes. She had forgotten the ease with which he made her feel like prey. The sound of thunder broke the spell. She looked out the window again. The storm was getting stronger. Lightning strikes cascaded across the sky.
“Okay.” Jude got her purse to pay for the coffee.
“Hold on, honey. No need to rush.” He flashed a toothy grin. “Gimme another few minutes to look at your beautiful face.”
Jude kept her purse in her lap.
“Tell me about your life.”
