Blindfold Vol. 2 Page 7

  I held myself tense, uncertain as to what was going on. He gave me a smile that made my stomach turn. It was cold and brittle.

  “Ash, what’s going–?”

  “Kidnapping, huh? That's your idea of living clean?” He looked at his glass, studying the contents and then tossed it all back before slamming the empty glass down on the table. In a blink, he was in front of me. “Your brother is a fucking kidnapper.”

  “No!” What the hell…who had…no. It didn’t matter, because he was wrong, the story was wrong. Victor had stopped a kidnapping. But nobody wanted to listen to him. He was a thug, a convicted dealer just a couple years out of prison, a few steps up from human trash as far as most people were concerned. He hadn't been charged with anything because there hadn't been any evidence, but the rumors had never gone away, even years later.

  Ash put his hands on the arms of my chair and leaned down so that his face was only inches from mine. “What have you two been planning behind my back, Toni? How did you make it happen? Did you bribe somebody at Winter to help you get close to my sister?”

  “What?” I gaped at him, my head spinning. My heart hammered in my chest; fear an acrid, ugly taste crawling up my throat. “I don't–”

  “I’ve seen the fucking pictures, Toni!”

  Ears ringing from the sheer ferocity of his bellow, I shoved him. He didn’t move. Narrowing my eyes, I leaned back into the seat and brought my feet up. The movement caught him off guard and he didn’t react in time. The double kick sent him stumbling back and I shoved upright. He may have towered over me by more than a foot, but at least I was on my feet now.

  I pointed a finger at him and warned, “Don’t ever try to corner me, Lang.”

  He rubbed at his gut. “How did you do it?” He glared at me.

  “Do what?” I shouted. “I don't know what the fuck you're talking about?!”

  He turned around and grabbed something. A moment later, pictures flew across the room. “Stop the innocent routine. I saw you with him. You’ve met with him more than once.”

  Confused, I looked down…at pictures of Vic and me. We were in the bar in some of them. A few…son of a bitch. He’d had me followed all the way to my parents' house. And it wasn't like before. Not like the time the investigator hadn't been hiding and had just stood around outside; like he'd been confirming that I didn't have some sort of hidden routine. These were close-ups. These were private. Somebody had been looking into the windows of my family's home. I could even place where they must've been standing when the shots had been taken, and it sure as hell hadn't been on public property.

  He’d had me followed. Again. And this time he'd crossed the line.

  Shit. A thought hit me. Vic said he’d had cops following me, but were they cops?

  Or where they Ash’s men? How many did he have?

  I blew out a slow breath, tried to calm myself. He was going through something awful, something I couldn’t imagine. We'd deal with the violation of my privacy later. It didn't mean I still didn't need a moment to reign in my temper.

  “Explain,” he demanded again.

  My hands were shaking with anger and the quaver came through in my voice. I looked up at him. “Explain…you want me to explain?”

  Selecting a photo at random, I turned it and met Ash’s icy gaze. My grasp on my control was tenuous at best.

  “This is Vic and me, having a drink at his favorite bar. We do it two or three times a month.” I scowled at Ash. “I’ll tell you what, your crack-shot investigator isn't worth shit, because if he'd asked around, anyone could tell you that. And sometimes it’s all of us. Me, three of my brothers since Kory can't commute from Michigan. Deacon and Franky sometimes bring their wives. Sometimes I bring whatever guy I’m seeing. Not that any of that is your fucking business!”

  My voice rose with every word, my control slipping, then snapping. I tore the picture in half and grabbed another. My heart felt bruised, shredded, as I saw the image of a Friday night dinner. He’d invaded the sanctity of my parents’ home. Not just my life, but their lives. Reaching up, I traced the edge of my mother’s face. She wasn't completely in the frame since I was the center of the shot, me and Vic, but she was still there.

  “You want a fucking explanation for this? It’s called a family dinner. I’ll be going to one tonight. We do it every Friday evening. Rain or shine. Snow, sleet or hail. It's my family.” The picture fell from numb fingers and I looked at him, suddenly empty. “What else do you want from me?”

  “Tell me where she is. I’ll pay whatever you want. Just tell me where she is.” His voice was so cold.

  I stared at him as it hit me. He wasn’t just lashing out or grasping at straws. He was serious. He thought I had something to do with this. That my family and I…

  For a second, I couldn’t feel anything, couldn’t even think.

  A disgust so thick and all-consuming settled inside me, I thought it might choke me. But I didn’t know who it was directed at. Him…or me.

  I’d had him inside me. Maybe I hadn't exactly been thinking clearly. But I’d liked him. Some parts of him, at least. I'd told myself that after all he'd been through, it was understandable that he'd put up some walls. I'd told myself that, deep down, he was a good guy. I'd counted on my usually accurate insight into people and it had let me down. How could I have taken a man so callow, so selfish inside me? How could I have not seen the sort of man he truly was?

  “You son of a bitch,” I whispered, my voice thick. I started to shake as I stared at him. I’d let him put his hands on me. His mouth. I'd comforted him. “You monstrous, evil son of a bitch.”

  “Cut the shit, Toni!” His green eyes glinted as he glowered at me. Fury practically radiated off him and that only made me angrier. He wasn't the wronged party here.

  We’d hadn't exchanged deep, heartfelt words of longing, but I’d…hell. I liked sex. A lot. But I'd never been flippant about it. I’d always prided myself on my discernment when it came to choosing who would share my bed. How could I have been so wrong?

  He stalked toward me and shot out a hand, grabbing my arm and jerking me close to him. I didn’t even fight. I didn't have it in me. I was still reeling from the betrayal.

  His fingers dug into my arm, leaving bruises as he bit each word off, “Where. Is. She.”

  “I don't know.” I stared into his eyes and it was like looking at a stranger. Sick inside, I said, “I like your sister. I would never hurt her.”

  His fingers tightened, just a little and he tugged me closer until there was less than an inch between our bodies. “That’s your final answer?”

  I just stared up at him. How could he think that of me? Had all of this only been an act?

  “Lieutenant.” His voice, so cool and calm now, sounded out of place.

  I jerked away and surprisingly, he let me go.

  He let me go.

  Spinning around, I half-stumbled at the sight of the cop standing there. Her name escaped me. She slid a look from me to the man at my back. There was a curious look on her face. Later, I’d remember it. Later. Much later.

  “Go on.”

  At first, I thought he was talking to me.

  But then the cop looked at me. “Miss Gallagher, we’d like you to come into the station and answer some questions.”

  “About what?” I demanded as several uniformed officers swarmed me. One of them took my elbow. I jerked away, even though I knew better. Common sense and logic were taking a backseat to all of the shit going through my head.

  “Miss Gallagher,” the lieutenant said, her voice calm. “We just have some routine questions.”

  “Then ask them here,” I said. “I answered questions here before.”

  “Get her out of here!” Ash bellowed.

  I shot him an ugly look.

  When I shifted my attention back to the lieutenant, I caught sight of something in her eyes. Regret.

  She looked from me to Ash and then back at me.

  I knew then that
I was in trouble.

  Vic's words came back to me. Money doesn’t talk…it sings….

  I looked around at the cops circling me, surrounding me. My chest tightened and I could barely breathe. Why was this happening? The question had a tinge of hysteria in it. Was I paying for Vic's mistakes? Again. God forgive me…I loved my brother, but I’d paid for his mistakes enough. Too many judged me by the things he had done. And what Ash had thought he knew about Vic…that wasn’t even the truth. My brother had been innocent. Was innocent. And so was I.

  But it looked like that didn't matter to anyone. Who cared if I was some scapegoat because I had a brother who'd done some dumb shit years ago? Nobody, that's who. I didn't have money. My family wasn't important. These cops didn't care if they hurt the people I loved, so long as the ones with money and power got what they wanted. Ash didn't care who got hurt, as long as people did what he told them to do.

  Something inside me snapped, and when the cop to my left touched my elbow, I jerked back.

  His jaw tightened and he gave me a look I knew too well.

  I lifted my chin.

  I was done.

  The entire room went quiet.

  “Miss, you need to get control of yourself and come with me,” he said, his voice flat. He reached out again and I took a step back.

  “Yeah? You’ve yet to give me a reason.” I curled my lip and said, “I know my damn rights. You want to take me somewhere? Tell me what the problem is. What’s the damn evidence against me?”

  He went to catch my arm again and I smacked at his hand.

  “Don't touch me,” I warned. “Unless you have an arrest warrant, don't fucking touch me again.”

  “Toni, for fuck’s sake.” Ash’s snarl barely even registered.

  “That’s it.” It came from the tired-looking brunette at my side.

  When she caught my arm, I acted without thinking. I pivoted and swung, driving my fist into her nose. I heard it crunch, saw the blood spurt out…and then I was thrown to the ground.

  I wished it would've been Ash. And I wished I would've done a lot worse to him than just messing up his nose.

  Chapter 10

  Ash

  I felt sick.

  As Toni was half-dragged out of the salon, I leaned against the bar service and stared at the blood on the carpet. That was going to be hell to get out.

  “Are you okay?”

  Automatically, I started to answer, but when I looked up, I saw that Special Agent Marcum was talking to the cop with the bloody nose.

  “Crazy bitch,” the officer said, her words thick and distorted.

  An instinctive response leaped to my lips and I had to clench my jaw to keep from saying that Toni had warned them not to touch her. It didn't matter what she'd said. They only cared about what she'd done.

  A few moments later, the rest of the NYPD gang had been cleared out by Marcum's two agents. One of her people followed the cops outside, eying the bleeding brunette, but Marcum hadn’t budged from her spot by the door.

  “Why are you here?” I snapped at Marcum. “Don’t you want to horn in on the action?”

  “Sure. When there’s action. But I know guilty and the girl? She isn't guilty.” She hesitated a moment, and then tipped her head at me. “Are you proud of yourself for that set-up, Mr. Lang?” She actually sounded curious.

  “I didn’t do shit,” I bit off. “She’s the one who helped somebody – probably her brother – kidnap my sister.”

  “Like hell she did.” Marcum rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips. “If that girl is any kind of criminal, then I’m Lady Gaga. You tried to throw your weight around with me to get to her, and it didn’t work, so you sicced your boys in blue on her.”

  She paused and I just stared at her, refusing to even blink.

  “What did you do, call the mayor?”

  Something in my face must've given me away, though I didn't know what, because Marcum made a disgusted sound.

  “Wow. That’s impressive. I wouldn’t do what you wanted, so you shook your money around and intimidated people into violating that girl's rights.”

  “That’s not–” I snapped my jaw shut as a red flush climbed up my cheeks. This was bullshit. It didn’t matter what my methods had been if I found my sister. Period.

  But the burn of humiliation did nothing to help the anger in my gut at all. I didn’t want to feel like I was in the wrong here. But I kept seeing Toni’s eyes. I couldn’t wipe away the memory of the betrayed look on her face.

  “Just shut up,” I said, shaking my head.

  Kowalski was on to something. He had to be. He'd just been cautious when he'd told me there wasn't any actual evidence. But if he hadn't been right, I had nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that was something I didn't even want to consider. I had to fix this. I had to find Isadora. No matter what.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  From the corner of my eye, I could see the agent moving to the door.

  Finally.

  Marcum paused. “I hope she’s as tough as she looks, Mr. Lang.”

  “Isadora is tough,” I answered automatically.

  “Not your sister,” Marcum said. “Toni Gallagher. She better be way tougher than she looks.”

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “What are you talking about?”

  “In case it’s escaped your notice, it’s Friday afternoon.” She made a show of checking her watch. “By the time they get done processing her, it'll be pretty late. And she punched a cop. Nobody’s going to be rushed to get her arraigned. She’ll be spending some time behind bars. All weekend, to be blunt.”

  “What the hell ever. They can set bail on weekends.” I tried not to think about how much that idea bothered me.

  Marcum gave me an incredulous look. “I'd forgotten what world you lived in. Judges don’t work weekends. Lawyers might. If a case fits certain, shall we say, criteria, she might be let out on bond. But I can tell you now, hitting a cop? Any kind of assault? That ain’t gonna fly. No matter the circumstances. She’s going to have to see a judge before they even come close to letting her out.”

  My gut started to get a little queasy as Marcum studied her slim gold watch, her lips pursed.

  “She’ll get through processing in a few hours if she’s lucky. Then she’s got all weekend in holding. She might see a judge on Monday. Tuesday is more likely. Her paperwork will probably get lost. And when she does see a judge, they're not going to do her any favors for bail. Now, I don't know the details of her family's financials, but I think it's safe to say that they probably can’t afford whatever bail the judge sets.” Her dark brown eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “See, she doesn’t know all the big-time important people like you. She’s just a regular person. She’s fucked, in short.”

  “Am I supposed to care about that?” The thing was…I did. Even as I said the words, I knew I cared. What the fuck? Why did I care? I’d been thinking about Isadora when I'd called in my favors, but now…

  Now, I was just…

  Shit.

  “Pretty, mouthy girl like that, tucked away behind bars. She’s never had to sit in the holding tank before, I bet. Neither have you, I'm sure.” Her eyes gleamed. “It can get pretty ugly, especially since the cops will probably put her in with some unsavory people.”

  “She kidnapped my sister!”

  “No, she didn’t.” Marcum’s voice was cold and clear…and so certain.

  I was torn between wanting to believe her and not wanting to. If the agent was right, then Toni was exactly who she'd always seemed to be…but that also meant I'd royally fucked things up.

  “And here’s the thing, Mr. Lang. It doesn't really even matter how the next couple days play out, because she’s probably going to jail anyway.”

  “But here you stand insisting she didn’t do anything.” I snorted. “Some faith in the justice system you have.”

  Marcum started to laugh. It was caustic, bitter. It ended quickly t
hough and she shook her head. “Educate yourself on the law, Mr. Lang. She struck a police officer while said officer was carrying out her civic duty. That’s second-degree assault. Granted, there was no arrest warrant, no legal way for the cops to force her to come in. And never mind that, in all fairness, she'd told them not to touch her and they really didn't have a legal right to. Or the fact that she'd probably felt trapped, with no way out.”

  Trapped…

  Toni had a reason to feel trapped. I’d lured her here. I’d told the cops to wait, then used them to ambush her. I’d set this all up and I had no doubt the cops had received the order to make sure Toni was brought in for questioning.

  “Never mind that there was no reason for her to even be here in the first place,” Marcum added softly. “No attorney will ask about that, I’m thinking. Why bother trying to set up a clear defense? There were witnesses. You were one of them. I was one of them.” Her smile went even colder. “I guess she won’t be finishing that degree…ever. She hit a cop. That’s a felony.”

  Now, in slow motion, I saw it happen again.

  The way Toni had stared at me, the anger and betrayal in her eyes. The pain. Then had come the panic as the cops had closed around her. The hurt under the fury when she'd told them not to touch her.

  “Have fun,” Marcum said, interrupting my mental reverie. “Explaining, I mean. Once I find Isadora – and I will – have fun explaining to her why her intelligent, caring, assistant is in jail. Why Toni Gallagher will never be a psychiatrist. Congratulations. You helped ruined that girl's life. Have a good day, Mr. Lang.”

  I stumbled backward and barely managed to catch myself on the couch. “That’s…shit. She’s…”

  But Marcum was already gone.

  I shook my head and focused on what I knew. Marcum was speculating. I had a good investigator.

  He had pictures.

  I looked down. My gaze landed on one of them. It was Toni. Toni and that brother of hers. An older woman, it had to be her mother, bent over both of them from behind while the two siblings were sitting down. The picture caught them laughing.