Wild Dirty Secret(36)

Jeans and a Bears cap flattened me into just another Chicago citizen. Anyway, no one would expect me to sniff around at the station while on the CPD’s most-wanted list. Even I was a little surprised that I dared. It was almost like I wanted to get caught.

But I had reasons for coming here, and they weren’t only about seeing a certain cop. I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jade had said. It niggled at me, the way Jenny was connected to Henri through her boyfriend. The way she had been targeted for her relationship to him.

Henri kept a few girls in his inner circle, and she was one of them. So was I. What if I had been targeted the same way?

I had dismissed the idea at first. I hadn’t had a druggie boyfriend who could have screwed Henri over. I had just been a dumb blonde in need of large quantities of cash. Open and shut. No mystery. But the thought had come back, worrying and worrying at me until I had to come here just to prove it wrong.

The old colonial building bustled with distracted cops and jaded public attorneys. A rumpled suit held the door open for me, and I walked in, hiding in plain sight, immersing myself in the spill of sweaty worker bees. Some people might think a prostitute would get nervous here, but what was a police station except a brick box of men with something to prove? Criminals, law enforcement officers. Customers, all of them.

I didn’t quite have the audacity, or the suicidal fortitude, to walk straight into the detective’s bull pen. Instead I exited the flow near the back offices. A shudder ran through me as I passed the double doors to the morgue; I preferred my marks alive, thank you very much. Ah, there it was: the evidence room. Possibly the safest place in this joint and definitely the friendliest.

A small bulletproof window had an opening at the bottom, like one of those banks from the eighties that screamed “we don’t trust you” to their customers. At least they were honest.

I rapped on the window. A few minutes later, Chase appeared. His face went slack with disbelief when he saw me. I imagined he would have gone pale too, if his skin weren’t practically obsidian.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he muttered, his white teeth flashing. Not a smile; a grimace.

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“I do like you. That’s why I don’t want you raped and dumped in the river.”

His words sobered me, but I refused to let it show. Never let them see you sweat. I raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to let me in or not?”

A buzz sounded from the door beside me, signaling it was unlocked. With a quick glance at the distended mass of distracted people, I slipped inside. Chase grabbed my hand and yanked me to the back room. The dimly lit space had only room for two. Once there, he pulled me into a bear hug. It should have been all bones and angles, with his thin form, but instead warmth enveloped me, outside and in. Cardboard particles and dust tickled my nose and brought tears to my eyes.

“Damn, girl,” he said, releasing me. “I’m sorry I freaked out on you, but give a guy some warning. I almost had a heart attack when I saw you.”

“Next time, I’ll put an announcement in the paper, let you know I’m coming.”

“There isn’t going to be a next time. You shouldn’t be here, not in the station, not in Chicago. Just start over. Start a new life somewhere else.”

“And let them win?” I teased, although the joke was really on me. I had long ago given up any delusions of triumph, licking the boots and sucking the cocks of Chicago’s elite.

“If you want to beat them, stay alive.”

“So earnest, so loyal,” I cooed. “I love that about you, Chase.”

He sent me a cross look. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Acting fake.”

That’s what I got for being honest. I did love Chase, in a little-brother kind of way. I had always appreciated that he’d never made a move on me. Sure, he was gay, but I found that most men weren’t too discriminating about the warm, wet place they put their dicks.

We’d met in my early days in the life. He’d worked for some dealer. Now he was on the city’s payroll. Not much of a step up, in my humble opinion, but at least it gave him the respectability and confidence he’d always wanted.

“Fine,” I murmured. “If you want the truth, I came here to see Luke.”

“Now how did I know that?”

I ticked off the reasons. “Because I’m his informant. Because he’s working my case.”

“Not anymore. You stopped being his informant a long time ago, and he just got kicked off your case, off all his cases. He’s on administrative leave.”

“The hell he is.” Luke must be going crazy. Administrative leave was an insult, like getting fucked in the ass, too fast and too hard, and I knew exactly how that felt.