“I HAVE TO GO home and change,” Sydney protested. “I don’t have a stitch to wear that isn’t covered in blood or torn. I’m going to have to go home in a bathrobe as it is. Better to walk through the apartment building when it’s early and there are not too many people around.”
Alex put a big mug of coffee in front of her and kissed her. “Tell me if needs improvement,” he said gravely. “I’ll get better, I’m promise.”
“I washed your clothes last night, while you were sleeping,” Rafe said. “It so happens I know how to launder, as well as cook, two essential skills Alex seems to have by-passed in all his long years. So you have something to wear home, but no, I don’t think you can wear them to the office. They’re a little ratty, now. But no blood stains.”
“I spent my years doing something meaningful,” Alex protested, although he didn’t sound upset at all.
“Raising a family isn’t meaningful?” Rafe asked.
“You’re forgetting, he’s one of the youngest appeal court judges ever appointed,” Sydney pointed out.
Alex snorted. “I save lives.”
“I saved Brody’s,” Rafe pointed out.
“True,” Alex said, sobering.
“Anyway,” Rafe said, standing up and stretching. “What we are and what we do is all back on the table now, isn’t it?
Sydney looked at him, started. “You mean…not work?”
“Or do work you really want to do,” Alex said. “It probably hasn’t occurred to you yet, my lady, but Rafe is filthy rich and I’m doing okay, too.”
Rafe laughed. “He puts Onassis to shame.”
“We all do,” Alex said. “All that time and all that compound interest…it adds up. And we don’t have the incidentals humans do so the money tends to accumulate.”
Sydney put down the jelly covered toast she had picked up, staring at them. “I guess I hadn’t thought about that.”
Rafe gave her a brief smile. “And all your reasons for joining the force have gone, haven’t they?”
Sydney pulled in a deep breath, a feeling of lightness, of relief, building inside her. “Yes, they have,” she said.
“Eat up,” Alex told her. “You have some thinking to do. So must we.”
* * * * *
In the end, Alex drove both her and Rafe to her apartment. Sydney’s car was still at Veris’ house and while she changed, Alex was going to drive Rafe there and he would bring her car back. It meant she would be slightly late for work, but as she was always screamingly early, Sydney didn’t bother stressing about it.
Alex pulled up directly in front of the main doors of her apartment building and kept the engine running. He kissed her, briefly but thoroughly, as Rafe got out of the backseat and opened her door.
When Alex let her go, Rafe helped her out, then pulled her against him and kissed her just as thoroughly. Then he patted her ass and got into the passenger seat and grinned up at her. “I’ll be back in a while to finish that up.”
Alex rolled his eyes.
Sydney couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she headed for the doors, digging out her keys as she went.
As she moved through the cars parked in front of the doors, her arm was grabbed, yanking her backward and almost off her feet. She was pushed up against a truck and an arm rammed across her throat, almost cutting off her breath.
Dark brown eyes stared at her from under a baseball cap. “Hello, cunt-face.”
Sydney swallowed. “Peter?”
“I couldn’t believe it when I got the tip that you were living in little ‘ol L.A., but fuck me…here you are. And my, don’t you look all pretty?”
Peter was older. Much older than he would be in actual years. A life of hard living was catching up with him. Sydney could see an old man looking out from his face. But one thing had not changed. The demonic, angry expression in his eyes was exactly as she remembered it, and the twelve years between here and Wisconsin evaporated. She was suddenly twenty again. Twenty and terrified.
“You’ve lightened up your hair,” Peter said. “All the better to go whoring with, huh?”
She tried to speak, but his arm across her throat wouldn’t let her. All she could do was scream. She drew in her breath, but Peter slapped his hand over her mouth, holding the scream in. She could just breathe over the top of his hand, which was rank with the smell of nicotine and diesel fuel.
“Now, you don’t want to be calling out to anyone, darlin’,” Peter told her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stubby little knife that he unfolded. The blade looked fat. And huge. The edge was silvered, showing it had been sharpened recently. Sydney stared at the edge of the blade, dazed. Peter had found out where she was and had sprinted to L.A., but he had stopped to sharpen his knife.
You sick bastard! she railed at him silently.
He lifted the knife up and pressed the tip against her cheek. “You and I have some catch-up to do. You owe me. A lot. We need to figure out how you’re going to pay back that debt.”
Sydney moaned as fear swamped her. She couldn’t think. She could barely breathe. From the corner of her eye, she caught movement and looked desperately that way.
Both Alex and Rafe were there, standing on the pavement, watching them. Relief touched her, so sharp and strong she could feel her knees weakening. They would get her out of this. She had absolutely no doubts.
Rafe jerked his head at Peter. “We meet again,” he said quietly.
“This is private business, asshole,” Peter growled. “Move on.”
“I don’t think so,” Alex said. “We’re as involved in this as you.”
Peter turned his head, like he was building up a pithy retort and more exhortations that they go away, but he straightened up and turned to face them. “You!” He was looking at Rafe.
Rafe grinned. “Bet you never thought you’d see me again.”
Peter’s mouth pulled into a nasty smile. “So the cunt went running off with you, after all.” He didn’t telegraph his move, but his arm lashed out sideways and the back of his hand cracked across Sydney’s cheekbone, sending her staggering between the cars.
She held herself upright against the Audi, just barely staying on her feet.
The car rocked under her hand and she looked up, her vision bleary. Alex had Peter by the throat, the other hand gripping the wrist that held the knife. “That was not a smart move,” Alex told him.
“Bite me, runt. I could take two of you for breakfast.”
“You’re just about to,” Alex told him. “And we’ll have you for breakfast.” His teeth descended and he flashed them deliberately.
Peter’s eyes widened and his mouth opened. “What the fuck?” he cried.
Alex lowered his head inch by inch, going for Peter’s throat. Peter struggled and kicked, but nothing dislodged Alex’s grip. Then he straightened, his spine snapping taut and his hand clawed at his chest. His face turned a sickly gray color.
Rafe pushed in between the cars. “Alex, he’s having a stroke or something.”
Alex smiled. “He’s having a heart attack,” he said mildly. “With luck, it will kill him.” He dragged him out from between the cars and dropped him on the pavement. “Someone had better call 911.”
Rafe sighed and pulled out his cellphone. “Damn, I didn’t get to have any fun with him.”
Alex helped Sydney out and was much more gentle with her than he had been with Peter. “Are you all right?” He lifted her chin, looking at her cheek.
“Shouldn’t you care for the critical patient, first?” she asked.
Peter was curled up on his side on the pavement, still clawing at his heart.
“I suppose I must.” Alex dropped into a crouch next to Peter. “So here is the deal, Peter. I hope you’re listening. If you pass out or stop breathing, I’m not going to do anything to revive you. My two witnesses here will swear I made heroic efforts to save you, but if you die, no one is going to care much because you were attacking Sydney when we caught you. So you can fight to live, and I suspect you will live, because you’re one of those ugly survivor types.”
Peter was watching Alex with a mix of horror and fury in his face, along with a heavy dose of pain.
Rafe moved around to where Peter could see him, too. “If you do survive, you ugly sack of worm meal, consider yourself the luckiest bastard alive. Don’t tempt fate. Don’t come back here. Don’t try to find Sydney again. If we ever catch sight of your face again, we’ll pick up where we were interrupted. Do you understand?”
Peter made snuffling sounds. Then he nodded. From not far away, an ambulance siren was coming closer.
Alex patted Peter’s shoulder. “You should think of this heart attack as a good thing for you. Today would have ended much differently, otherwise.” He stood up again and looked at Sydney. “There. I’ve tended him. Now, let’s look at you.”
Sydney threw her arms around him and hid her tears against his shirt.
* * * * *
Captain Baker looked up as Sydney walked into his office, and frowned. “Where the fuck have you been, Lieutenant?” he demanded. “And who are these jokers?”
“This is Judge Rayner De Leon,” Sydney told him. “You may have heard of him. And this is Doctor Alexander Karim.” Alex and Rafe stood at either shoulder and just behind her. They stayed silent.
She dropped Peter’s wallet and cellphone on Baker’s desk. “There are phone calls and text messages on the phone, proving that Yonkers contacted my ex-husband and told him where to find me. In the wallet are more precise written instructions on how to track me down, including my usual movements and locations.” She leaned over his desk. “Yonkers deliberately steered a man with a record of abuse and aimed him directly at me. I could have him kicked out of the force for that. And you, too.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Baker spluttered.
“You told Yonkers and McLeary that I had to be dealt with,” Sydney replied. “When Yonkers said he knew a way, you told him to take care of it.”
Baker stared at her.
“Actually,” Alex said, “he said ‘I don’t want to know.’ Very neat way of dodging the bullet. Except you didn’t, did you?”
Baker looked frightened now. “You’re bugging my fucking office?” he cried.
“Bingo,” Rafe said softly.
“No bug,” Sydney said. “But you just confirmed the details of that meeting for me. Not that I needed convincing anyway. It sounded just like you when I heard it.” She picked up the wallet and the cellphone again. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to resign, Baker. You and Yonkers both. Or I go to Internal Affairs and you’ll lose your pension as well as your job.”
She turned her back on Baker and smiled at Alex and Rafe. Rafe offered her his arm and they walked to the door.
“You fucking bitch!” Baker cried, behind them. “You can’t do this to me!”
“I just did,” Sydney told him and blew him a kiss.