“You know they’ve got him locked down and on suicide watch, which is complete bullshit,” she said as they entered the hall and headed for the exit. “So, no.”
“Mmm,” Frank said. “Never know with people what they might do under stress.”
“Joey agrees it’s bullshit.”
They got outside and Sylvie made a beeline to her car. Once inside, she turned to Frank.
“They’re waiting on the Feds, aren’t they? What’d he do?” It wasn’t the topic she wanted to discuss, but she’d ease him into it.
“Wish I could tell you, but they pulled us out as soon as we brought him in.” He looked back at the building. “I’m not sure if it’s the Feds they’re waiting on.”
“So who talked to him? Anyone?”
“Detective Berger for about five minutes, then they locked Glass down.”
“And you know why, don’t you, Frank?”
“Rookie—”
“I said don’t Rookie me, Frank. Glass was relieved the minute he saw it was you and Tom yesterday. I got your message to follow your lead and I did. The least I deserve right now is to know why I did it.” She softened up her voice. Now that she was facing her old friend, she couldn’t believe he was responsible for the photograph or that he was a dirty cop.
“Let me in, Frank. What’s going on with you and Tom?” She opened her mouth again, and Frank held up his palm.
“Let me make it easy for you. How much do you know?” He sounded resigned and his complexion looked gray.
The air left her body and she felt like a deflated balloon. “How much do Iknow? I can’t believe you…of all the officers in the department, you’re the last one who I thought would be dirty. I still can’t believe it, Frank. Tell me I’m wrong, that I somehow have this fucked-up view of things all backwards before I go to Robert with my suspicions.”
Frank gave her the last thing she expected—a relieved smile. “I saw what you were researching the other day when I stopped by your desk. You were looking up that dispensary case, the mugging, the IA’s conclusion. And I know what lines you’re drawing from it. That Tom and I are in with the cartel-connected gangs spreading up from Denver. That I’m shaking down dispensaries for protection money. That Tom and me either set up a hit or performed one on that dispensary owner. How close am I?”
With every word Frank spoke, Sylvie’s heart pounded faster and harder. “I don’t want to believe that about you. I can’t. But I can believe it about Tom. So, what I think is that you’re covering for him.”
“I’m not doing that, Sylvie.”
“Then what are you doing, Frank? Because you’re right; those are the lines I’m drawing. And just so you know, Carla knows where I am right now, and if I don’t check in soon, she’s going to get antsy and we both know what she’s like when she’s antsy. She’ll—”
“We’re working undercover.”
Bam. Sylvie felt instant relief. She was right about Frank—he was still one of the good guys.
But, he’d said we, which meant Tom was working right alongside him.
“Undercover?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Frank nodded.
“For how long?”
“Can’t really go into that, can I?”
She nodded and half-smiled. “I’m glad you aren’t who I thought you were.”
“Aw, Rookie. You doubted me?” Frank chuckled. “I guess it just means I'm doing my job well, huh?”
Sudden anger turned in her stomach like a ball of fire when she thought of the photo left on her desk. “Yeah, too well, actually. I didn't appreciate that photograph.”
“Sylvie. I’m sorry that I knocked you out of the K9 Unit position. I know how much it means to you.”
“They want you in that position, don’t they? The cartel.”
