“No,” Ryder says hotly, standing up. “The last time we let you out of our sight, you disappeared, and he almost died,” he says, stabbing a finger at Gage.
“I’m aware. This is different.”
“How?!” Ryder says, throwing his hands in the air. “He could grab you from that building. You willnotfucking go in alone.”
“One of us goes in, or you don’t go in at all,” Zane adds, agreeing with Ryder.
One by one, they agree with Ryder, so I think about it from their point of view. They have every right to fear what could happen, but I can’t do this forever. I’m hiding behind them, givingJay exactly what he wants. He wants me to be scared; he thrives on it.
Before I can talk, Zane’s phone starts ringing, and he looks at it with a frown. “It’s Hartley. Hello?” Zane answers, setting it on speakerphone.
“I need to talk to you and Ms. Poletti.”
“You going to arrest me again, Hartley?”
“No,” Hartley sighs. “Look. Meet me somewhere.”
I shake my head. I don’t trust him. “He can come here,” I mouth to Zane. I can control what happens here, not in public. Plus, if he refuses, it will give us the first clue he’s trying to set us up. He’s already the first on my list of accomplices with Jay.
“You can come here because, frankly, I don’t fucking trust you,” Zane says, reading my mind.
“When?”
Zane looks at me, and I shrug. “Now,” I mouth. We won’t be leaving until the end of the argument, anyway.
“Now,” Zane relays. “But let me tell you something, Hartley, if you’re up to something, you better rethink that fucking decision before you step foot on this property.”
“I’m not,” Hartley replies, and the line goes dead.
“What the hell is that about?” Gage asks.
I have no idea, but we’re going to find out.
Shawna leadsHartley into the living room fifteen minutes later, and he’s looking slightly nervous. I wave for him to sit in the chair beside Dex.
“What do you want?” I ask. I’m not even going to try with pleasantries after how he acted at the police station.
“I owe you both an apology,” he answers. Zane and I exchange surprised looks before looking back at Hartley. He looks at me. “I read through that file.” He swallows. “I had no fucking idea.”
“I told you what happened,” Zane says.
“You have to admit it didn’t look good, Zane. We knew your history with the Poletti’s, and then you go missing with her?” Hartley scrubs a hand down his face. “In short, I fucked up. I’m here to fix it now.” He pulls a paper from his back pocket and lays it on the coffee table. “That’s my resignation letter to the department.”
“How exactly does that help us?” I ask with a tilt of my head.
“I know who your mole in the department is. I can’t tell you that as the chief of police.”
“Why would you tell us knowing what we’re going to do?” Ryder asks, sitting up.
“Because of those pictures,” Hartley answers. We didn’t even show him the worst of them, just the ones that painted the scene. “Ms. Poletti. No one should ever have to go through that. I failed you as a police officer and as a person.”
“Who’s the mole?” I ask, ignoring his statement. He’s treated me like shit for years; one apology won’t fix that.
“Steve.”
“I should have fucking known,” Zane laughs, but it’s humorless. “How did you find out?”
“After I looked at those pictures, I had our techie dump those emails showing who they came from.”
