The Dirty Series 2(90)
A collective gasp runs through the officers in the room, and Angelica’s head whips around. “I’ve never heard that name.”
“He’s in charge of some of the most notorious crime rings in the city, targeting different groups at different times. We’ve been after him for the last three years.”
Angelica narrows her eyes. “I mean—I’m so glad that I could help. But are you sure this was because of me?”
The chief nods solemnly. “We’re operating under the assumption that he’s run scams like this before, but we’ve never been able to pick up any of his associates—or the people he’s forcing to run errands for him.”
“Why not?”
The chief looks at me, then back at Angelica, and I understand.
“Because he makes them disappear.” I say it before I can stop myself.
“Jesus Christ,” Angelica whispers under her breath.
“Our guess,” the chief says, “is that he was going to string you along for just long enough to get a permanent foothold in Mr. Brandon’s accounts. Your instinct was right, even if your actions were on the wrong side of the law.” Then he turns to me. “You’re adamant about not pressing charges, Mr. Brandon?”
“Completely.”
“Then I think we’re all in agreement.”
There’s a chorus of yeses from throughout the room, including the person on the line from the DA’s office.
“I’m sorry you got caught up in this, Ms. Chandler,” the chief says, rising from his seat and offering her his hand to shake. She stands to shake his hand, and then I do the same. “Would you mind making yourself available as a witness?”
“Of course she will,” Angelica’s lawyer says, her eyes still wide.
“Wonderful,” the chief says, then glances around the room. “No need to loiter, people. Get back to work. Ms. Chandler, you’re free to go. Mr. Brandon, we’ll be in touch.”
Everyone files out ahead of us, but Angelica turns back to the chief. “Sir, are you—are you sure that—?”
“I’ve already been in touch with the local PD from your hometown, Ms. Chandler. Until we’ve apprehended all the significant figures from Mr. Harvey’s group, there’ll be someone looking out for your family. If you have any concerns at all about your own safety, you can call me.”
“Thanks.”
We turn to go, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders while we head out of the police station.
“Are you ready to go home?”
“More than ready. If I never have to see the inside of a police station again, I’ll be happy.”
“No guarantees. You’re probably going to be a key witness for them. You’ll probably have to identify Harvey from a lineup.”
“What did you do, binge-watch Law and Order while I was gone?”
“Maybe.”
I pull open the door of the town car and let Angelica climb in first. I feel light and free, and I’m not the one who was in danger of going to jail over this ridiculous business.
As I slide in next to her and pull the door shut behind me, a strange expression flickers across her face.
“You know, Jett,” she says slowly, “now that this is all over, I think this might...I think we should probably talk.”
“About what?”
“About whether we both want this.”
“Do you not?”
Her voice spikes high. “Won’t you always suspect me? Won’t it be hard for you to trust me, even if we are together?”
I smile at her, and she frowns.
“Why are you smiling?”
“There’s something I wanted to show you.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Angelica
I don’t know what possesses me when we leave the police station. I don’t know why I can’t just accept Jett’s defense of me. Maybe it’s because I’ve worked for years to fit in here, in the city, in my career, with my friends. I clawed my way out of my tiny hometown, taking out student loans and applying for every scholarship possible, but underneath this cascade of emotions, the girl I used to be returns in the blink of an eye.
The girl I used to be who sought approval, who needed people to reassure her that she was, in fact, making it and not a complete fraud.
I was a fraud with Jett. Not completely, but enough, and I just want to know. I just want to know that after the excitement fades, after the relief is less powerful and it’s just the two of us, that he won’t think the worst of me if I’m not in bed when he wakes up at night.
So I ask him before things go any further.
“You know, Jett, now that this is all over, I think this might...I think we should probably talk.” It’s a thousand times harder than admitting to him that I was the culprit when it came to the money leaking out of his accounts.