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“I get it. You’re afraid that we’ll pull you over to our side, or worse, that you’ll one day have to arrest one of us?”
“Well, yeah,” I repeat.
“I can’t tell you what to do. I don’t have any good advice, except for this. If you aren’t certain you can be a cop and be with Viper, then you need to decide and choose one or the other. You need to do it soon because I know Viper cares about you. I don’t want to see her destroyed when you decide she isn’t enough.”
We ride the rest of the way in silence as I consider the mess I’ve created for myself. Or is it a mess? I’ve always wanted to be a cop, but does it bring me the same joy I feel when I’m with Viper? Could I give up one for the other? Do I have to? Shield’s thoughts on justice gave me some hope. Maybe I can find a middle ground. But can I straddle that line with impunity? I pull up in front of Desdemona and Diego’s mansion and again wonder what he does, or has done, to afford such a place. I know the rumors. That he worked for Salvador Gutierrez, a major player in the drug trade. Yet, I’m not here to search for clues about their criminal activity. I’m here as Diego’s guest.
As Max and I exit my car, the CPS agent arrives with Angela in the passenger seat. Max and I step over to greet them.
“Austin? Is that you?” Angela asks as she approaches. I see the agent frown, but she says nothing. Good.
“Hi, Angela. How are you? You look good,” Max says, opening his arms to give her a hug.
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Ms. Billock asks him.
Max ignores her as he concentrates on Angela. He helps her regain her composure while murmuring soothing words as she wipes away her tears.
“Hello, Ms. Turner,” I say, joining her and Max.
“Hello, Detective,” she replies with a soft smile. “Do you two work together? Are you a cop, Austin?”
Max and I both chuckle as he shakes his head. “I’m not a cop. But a friend of mine helped rescue Angelica. I’ve spent time with her before I knew of our relation. She trusts me.”
“I’m so happy to hear that,” Angela responds. “I’m glad you found each other. Does she know? That you’re her half-brother?”
“Half-brother?” Ms. Billock asks, eyeing Austin. “You’re Wayne Turner’s son?”
“I am, as is my sister,” Max responds, turning his attention back to Angela. “I found her, my sister, Ashley. She’s met Angelica, too. We’re both hoping to have a relationship with Angelica and with you.”
“This is unusual,” Ms. Billock interrupts.
“But not unheard of,” I remind her. “Max is here to help Angelica and Angela reconnect. He knows both of them, and he knows the couple who are fostering Angelica. Shall we go in?”
The door opens, and I see Desdemona standing just inside the door, her focus on us. She smiles as she welcomes us into her home. Diego stands inside, ready to greet us.
“Where is the child?” the agent demands.
“Playing in her room,” Desdemona explains. “I thought we could sit down and have some tea or coffee before bringing her in.”
Ms. Billock opens her mouth. Likely to argue and throw her weight around, but I get in there first. “That’s a great idea. Ms. Billock, you go ahead with Ms. Konstantin and Mr. Perez. I need a few minutes of Angela’s time.” I glance at Max, who nods.
“I’ll go sit with Angelica,” Max offers. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll bring her.”
Angela doesn’t look pleased with me, but she lets me lead her into a small sitting area. “I know you want to see Angelica, but I need to talk to you about something important before we bring her in. This affects her as well as you.”
Angela nods and waits for me to speak. “Okay, what is it?”
“I’m sorry to inform you, but your husband, Wayne Turner, is dead. We found him in his hotel room. Someone murdered him,” I tell her, watching her expression.
She pales. Her mouth opens, then shuts, before opening again. “Wayne’s dead? Really? You aren’t lying to me, are you?”
“No. I’m not lying,” I tell her, allowing myself a small grin at her response. “I have to ask. When was the last time you saw your husband?”
“I haven’t seen him since the day I left him and came to Vegas to find Angelica.”
“And you haven’t seen him since?”
“No. If I had, I would have killed him,” Angela says, then the realization of what she’s said hits her. Her hand flies to her mouth as her eyes well up with fear and tears. “I didn’t kill him. Oh my god, please don’t think I did. It was just an expression.”
