guard. One minute they were banging on the door, and the next, they were storming through it.
Fucking mayhem ensued.
They were pulling shit out, ignoring me when I kept asking them to explain it again. Drugs, drugs, drugs—that was what they kept saying.
“What about them?” I’d demanded, trying to employ that in-control attitude Kelly always had.
That was when I saw him. Scott. He was watching me, a smug grin on his face. Since it was illegal to put my hands on him, I shot him a look and then went back upstairs. I’d been painting CeeCee’s room for her. Purple, because Maureen said that when she colored, she used it the most. I remembered Mari doing the same thing with the color blue and butterflies.
When I reached CeeCee’s room, all of the paint had been knocked over onto the floor. They had been digging through the drawers and closet, flinging things around, and some of her new clothes were in it, saturated and ruined.
I’d lost it. Not on the cop doing the searching, but on Stone when he walked into the room and called my name.
It was his fault. He had purposely gotten the warrant issued and took pleasure in being there while it happened. To provoke Kelly, and to hurt me, like I’d hurt him.
Another cop told me to “tone it down” after I started yelling at him. When I didn’t, they subdued me, but at that point, my head was void of any reasonable thought. Then they handcuffed me and read me my rights.
Resisting arrest.
The entire neighborhood, including my brother, husband, and Raff, watched as they set me in a car and hauled me away. Paraded me was more like it. They kept the sirens on the entire way.
So, no, my fight wasn’t for Kelly. It was for CeeCee, who didn’t deserve for her room and clothes to get ruined due to some vengeance triangle that had nothing to do with her.
Okay. Maybe a little for Kelly, because it was a bullshit warrant.
An hour in and the same policewoman came to collect me.
“Kelly,” she said. “You’ve been bailed out.”
Harrison stood against the wall, waiting for me, and he looked haggard.
“What?” I looked around. “Kelly didn’t even have the decency to bail his wife out?”
“He bailed us both out.”
I stopped walking, but he tugged on my arm. I only continued because I didn’t want to stay at the station.
“What do you mean?” I rubbed my wrists, where the cuffs had chafed some.
“Long story,” he said. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, we have somewhere to be.”
“Somewhere” was the area of the station that belonged to homicide. Harrison led me into a room that had a double window. I could see out, but whoever was in the other room couldn’t see me.
Kelly sat at the table on the other side with a cup in front of him. He was alone.
Detective Paul Marinetti stood by the window, watching. He turned when he heard us.
He nodded to my brother. “Ryan.” Then he nodded at me. “Mrs. Kelly.”
“What’s this about?” I looked between my brother and the old detective, suspicious. Did Harrison do something to get Kelly locked up?
“Kee,” my brother said, coming to stand beside me. “Detective Marinetti came to me and Kelly with a deal. He’d drop the charges on both of us if Kelly would agree to have a sit-down with Stone.”
“Scott wanted this?” The shock was evident in my voice.
“No,” Detective Marinetti said. “I did. My partner hasn’t been himself lately. He’s a good kid, and he’s going in a direction I’m trying to change. I don’t want him to lose his job. Maybe airing out his grievances will get his mind straight.”
“Scott’s made this personal,” I said.
The detective said nothing, not confirming or denying, but he didn’t have to. What Kelly had done, marrying me, had sent Scott into overdrive. I remembered from our time together how obsessed he would get with his organized crime cases. Add that to Kelly being one of his greatest enemies and it added up to something dangerous—between the two of them.
“Seems Stone’s been stepping on some powerful toes lately,” my brother said. “Not only on Kelly’s. The Faustis, too.”
I took a step closer to the glass, watching Kelly. He didn’t have a nervous bone in his body. That la de da attitude was firmly in place.
“What did you do to him, girl?”
It took me a moment to realize Detective Marinetti was talking to me.