her, that he’d drag her down and destroy everything she’d built her life on.”
“And you didn’t want to lose her.”
“No. I didn’t. I’m not ashamed of that. Cummings, damn him, made it sound so . . . righteous. Told me I’d be building a better New Orleans beside him. Said he’d take me with him on his way up, do things for my career so I could give my family what they deserved.” A deprecating snort. “I took his deal. But I never took money from him. Not a dime.”
Colin absorbed that then asked, “What did you give him?”
“Nothing that would harm the department or my partner.” He broke off again, gaze focusing on the contents of a cup as dark as the stain on his soul. “He asked what I knew about Max and Legere, about their business with Blutafino and the Vantour brothers.”
“And?”
“I told him everything I knew. Made it sound like it was all confidential, but it was pretty much common knowledge he coulda gotten from any cop bar.”
The big Terriot was no fool. “So, if you didn’t take money, what did he give you besides empty promises?”
The look slanting up from across the table glittered. “Information on Brady. Didn’t take long to figure Charlotte and Max were a done deal. She convinced me with a really good right hook.” A brief quirk of his smile. “I played along with Cummings to see if he’d offer anything I could use to nail that bastard to the wall. Your little brother dipped his clever fingers into some of it when he was snooping around in my computer. Surprised he didn’t blow the whistle.”
“He wasn’t after you.”
“So, why are you?”
Colin leaned back, spreading his hands wide, one strong, one hideously scarred by his own foolish choices. “I’ve got nothing riding on this. You’ve done me more than a couple of solids,” like helping him bring his insensible king home, getting his own drunk ass out of jail, and backing his rescue of Rico and his little girl, “and I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt your family.” When that didn’t satisfy the detective, he caved. “MacCreedy asked me. Some thug name a Blutafino told him and your partner you were compromised.”
Babineau sagged back in his chair, handsome features going slack. “Oh, hell.” After considering his options behind closed eyes for a long minute, he asked, “What’re you gonna tell him . . . and Charlotte?”
“That depends.”
Another cautious look. “On?”
“Whether you’re willing to keep playing the game.” A thin smile. “Brady’s going down.”
A slow smile spread across the pretty-boy face. “Oh, I so want a piece of whatever you’re planning.”
– – –
Determined to delay the drive home for as long as possible, Cee Cee lingered at work, finishing reports, following up on voice messages, and even cleaning her desktop. When she started getting funny looks from Second Shift, she finally shut down her computer screen and prepared to face music she dreaded having to dance to.
It wasn’t like she’d never grilled Max Savoie as a potential suspect before. But he hadn’t been the father of her child then. Not exactly an epic event she’d want to jot down in the frilly pink baby book Mary Kate had given her.
Why hadn’t she waited until they were alone instead of dragging MacCreedy along to back her courage? A simple answer. Because alone time with Max had gotten . . . complicated. He was treating her differently. Not in a bad way. Not in a way she could point to in an argument, but it knocked the rhythm of their daily life and their nighttime whoopie off-kilter. Did married folk go to counseling because the husband treated his wife too . . . nice? Nothing wrong with nice if one was a grandmama or a good neighbor, but it wasn’t what she looked forward to when getting up close and personal after a day in the grimy trenches. Now, instead of constantly stripping her down with his gaze and giving their bedsprings hours of cardio, he’d been treating her more like an invalid than a lover.
It didn’t help that her hormones were suddenly all over the place, spiking in crazy highs and dramatically weepy lows. All perfectly normal, Susanna assured. But not for her! She didn’t like losing control. It made things . . . messy. Though she missed the regimented order of life pre-Savoie, she wouldn’t return to it for anything.
But she was missing the way they’d been together.
A fact heart-shockingly