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I don’t add that we have all received offers, extra cash for throwing the condoms away, and that I’m quite sure that, although the other girls would never even consider it, Lizzie had certainly accepted a few of them at the right price. The information holds no bearing now.
“There haven’t been any accidental pregnancies—at least not while I’ve been at Clementine Lane.”And except for Lizzie when she died, my overtired brain can’t help but point out.
“Antoinette didn’t know either,” he confirms. “I broke the news to her in our last interview.”
“Do you know who the father was?” When Aiden nods, his eyes wary, I know the truth he cannot speak. “Sascha.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think he could have killed her over it? Maybe she-”
“No.” He cuts me off with a quick shake of his head. “I don’t trust a single word that comes out of Sokolov’s mouth but when he found out that Lizzie was dead…”
“He didn’t take it well?”
“He broke down, Cat. Cried like a goddamn baby.”
I have never met Sascha in person—that I know of. But the snippets I have heard about him over the years make what Aiden is telling me hard to reconcile. Were it not for Aiden’s obvious discomfort at the memory of a grown man, acriminal, crying, I’d struggle to believe we were talking about the same person.
And still…“Toni told us that she overdosed? And was shot afterwards?”
“She did. From what we found in her system it was coke, cut with a lethal dose of fentanyl. It could have been accidental.”
“Or intentional,” I add. “Aiden…Lizzie got her drugs from Sascha. All of them. He was a free supplier forwhatevershe wanted.”
“We know. We’re working on it.” He sits back down again and takes a sip of coffee before adding, “Sascha has so much heat at the moment it’s hard to get close without spooking him. And we can’t afford to jeopardize the narcotics operations already in process.”
“But hypothetically speaking…” I trail off when Aiden’s eyes snap to mine, but when he doesn’t interject, I carry on with, “Ifwe were to get a sample of coke, say,” I shrug, “by visiting the Mousetrap as a clubber.”
“No.” He cuts me off from further elaboration. “Catherine,” he says when I turn back to my cookies, “look at me.”
I do. But I roll my eyes so that he knows it’s begrudging.
“At the rate Sascha moves product, we’d never match the exact batch to what we found in Lizzie’s room and definitely not to what killed her. The most we could do is have forensics compare the drugs and even that’s circumstantial. Not even remotely worth you—oranyoneelse—visiting the Mousetrap.”
My heart sinks. I would have done it too—for Lizzie. And for me. BecauseIwant this to be over too.
Aiden is looking at me, and, although I can’t quite meet his burning gaze, I can feel the heat of it licking my skin. “Catherine.”
I brace against it. The DON’T. The order.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, he says, “It would kill me if you put yourself in harm’s way. And I might kill Sascha myself if you went to the Mousetrap and wound up in trouble.”
“I-”
“Even if it were theonlyway to tie Sascha to Lizzie’s death, I would never ask you to do something that dangerous. Do you understand?” he asks, his dark eyes flickering close to anger. “Lizzie’s dead. And even if her death was suspicious, it’s not worth anyone else dying over. Cat…Do you know how much it terrifies me that you’d evensuggestthat? And with that scar on your chest—ifSascha didn’t recognize you by sight?”
“I was just thinking aloud.” Needing to close the distance between us just then, I move to him and, when he opens his arms for me, I slide onto his lap.
“It was a good idea,” he says, holding me in place. “One we’ve already considered. We’re working on sourcing his product with the Narcotics Division.”
“Itwasa good idea.”
“But you don’t want to give me a heart attack…”
“But I don’t want to give you a heart attack,” I repeat. And there’s a little flicker of warmth in my chest when I say it.
