Page 33 of My Cruel Salvation

“By getting at me through Ellie. She’s the interest still owed.”

“Sure. Because you don’t hurt if you’re dead, right? He won’t kill you. He wants to hurt you. Killing Ellie will do that.” Lamar’s voice was flat, his eyes toward the doorway. The chalk. The tag indicating the bullet’s entry into the wall. The blood splatter.

“Lamar—”

The detective’s eyes cut to him, dark with pain. “What?”

“I—she was a good woman.”

“Yeah, she was.”

“I didn’t know her as well as I should have.”

“She admired you,” Lamar said. “Loved working at the foundation. She believed in what you do. Don’t stop,” he added, something in his tone making Devlin’s back straighten.

“I wouldn’t,” he said casually. Surely, surely, Lamar didn’t know about Saint’s Angels. He’d told Ellie that she could discuss anything with Lamar and Brandy, but if she’d revealed a secret as volatile as that, then she would have told Devlin. Wouldn’t she?

It wasn’t a question he couldn’t get an answer to right then, so he stayed silent as the detective continued.

“How sure are you that this is Blackstone?” Lamar asked.

“As sure as I can be, but until there’s proof, it’s just a theory.”

“But can you prove it?”

Devlin tilted his head. “Isn’t that what the police are for?”

Lamar’s throat moved as he swallowed, and he didn’t quite meet Devlin’s eyes. “You have resources, Saint. I know you do.”

Devlin forced himself not to react, but his body went cold. He did know.

“I know your foundation participates in rescues. Works closely with investigators. That kind of thing.”

Relief flooded Devlin. “That’s true. There’s a timing factor to a lot of what we do. Not the kind of thing we want to farm out when even ten minutes can make a huge difference.”

“That’s what I figured. And maybe you’re not supposed to use those resources privately. I don’t know. But what I do know is that you will use them. Because this is Ellie we’re talking about.”

Lamar wasn’t wrong. And Devlin would use a hell of a lot more than that to find his answers. “Go on.”

“I want to know what you know. I want your help. Your resources.”

“You’ll have them.”

“Good. Because Blackstone is mine.”

Devlin studied him. “That’s not you, Lamar.”

To his credit, Lamar didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Maybe it is.”

Devlin considered his words. Maybe it was … and maybe one day Lamar would end up as one of Saint’s Angels. God knew he’d be an asset. But if he ever walked that path, it wouldn’t be because he’d taken that first step in rage.

“Come back with me and Ellie,” he said gently. “I’m sure Brandy wants to see you, and you need to be with friends.”

“Saint…”

“We can’t bring her back … but we will make him suffer. I promise you that.”

Lamar drew a breath, then shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Take Ellie home. I need to talk to the team. I’m working this case. Wild horses couldn’t drag me off this case.”