“Last night, one of my best officers killed a man and tried to kill another Night Shift officer when they tried to stop him,” O’Hara said, his voice grim. “And when I start to dig, your name turns up every time one way or another. Lyons worked a few doors down from your offices. Haley was killed on property you provide security for. And, despite the fact you nearly killed him, Officer Marlow keeps turning up in your company. I don’t believe in coincidence.”
Cade crossed his arms. His elbows nudged against O’Hara’s chest as he did so.
“A hundred people work within a few doors of my offices,” he said. “Some of them probably died in the last month, but that doesn’t mean I had anything to do with it. Same goes for Haley. If I had anything to do with that, I wouldn’t have solved the crime for you, would I?”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” O’Hara said. “People with something to hide usually do. What about Marlow? You have been very vocal about your contempt for the police. What makes him the exception to the rule? Why do you suddenly enjoy his company?”
Cade leaned in until their noses almost touched. He could smell the sourness of a long night and no time to catch a break on O’Hara’s breath.
“I want to fuck him,” he said. “That answer your question?”
The blush was unexpected. It crawled up into O’Hara’s cheeks, under the scruff of graying gingery stubble, and turned his ears bright red. Despite the barely repressed anger that fairly seeped out of Bennett, she gave a brief snort of amusement at the jibe.
O’Hara ignored her. He stepped back out of Cade’s space and cleared his throat.
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “Not all of them. We’d like to speak to you down at the station.”
“Are you asking or telling?” Cade asked.
O’Hara popped his knuckles absently. “Until you refuse, we’re asking,” he said.
There was too much wolf under Cade’s skin—antsy with the promise of another two night’s mayhem—for him to swallow the implied threat easily. The back of his neck itched, and his teeth felt very sharp against his tongue.
O’Hara had been right about one thing. Cade did like his antagonistic relationship with the local LEOs. For one thing, he didn’t have much use for cops—in his personal experience they were either useless or in his way—and it also tested well with Cold Winds’ target market. Someone who hired private security generally didn’t want the police involved in their business.
That didn’t mean they wanted a straight-up dark web mercenary either, and there were conduct clauses in the contracts. So far, no one had ever used them against Cold Winds. But they could.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Cade said. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to get dressed and call my lawyer first. You can wait in reception unless you want a show.”
He untucked the towel from around his waist and rubbed it over his soaked hair. O’Hara didn’t look. Good for him.
“Don’t take too long,” O’Hara told him. He checked the time on his wristwatch briefly as he turned to leave the room. “Courtesy expires in twenty minutes, Mr. Deacon. After that, well, the station has seen your ass before.”
Bennett hung back as he left. “Only guilty men need lawyers,” she said, “in my experience.”
The door closed behind O’Hara and left the three of them alone.
“Please,” Cade said. “Does that ever work? Everyoneneedsa lawyer. The guilty just know it.”
Her bruised mouth twitched in a cold smile. “So you admit it?”
“Not without my lawyer present,” Cade said. “Now, get out of my office.”
Bennett took a step back. “You think you’re slick,” she said. “But I knew Ned Piper, and he played this city like a drum for years. You aren’t on his level. So I don’t carehowyou talked Marlow into this shit storm; you’re going to pay for it. I’ll make sure of that. Lawyer or not.”
She turned on her heel and stalked out of the office after O’Hara. Cade waited for the door to swing shut behind her with the solid click of good craftsmanship and reinforced metal under the polished layer of wood.
“Find him,” Cade said.
“What?” Lem said.
“Marlow.” Cade slung the damp towel around his neck and gave his brother an exasperated look. “By the time I get back from my…. completely optional… chat with the SDPD, I want to know where he is.”
Lem made an exasperated gesture as he stood up and nearly knocked his tablet to the floor. He grabbed it awkwardly and rested the edge of it against his hip.
“And how do you think I’m going to do that?” Lem asked, frustration in his voice. “The Night Shift and half the city are looking for him, but I’m just supposed to ‘find him’? How do you expect me to do that, Cade?”
“I don’t care how you do it. I just want it done,” Cade said. “I’ve spent years telling our clients, the press, and various local government officials that Cold Winds is better funded, better staffed, and just plain better than the SDPD. So don’t make a liar out of me. Find Marlow before they do.”
