Burnout (NYPD Blue & Gold) (18 page)

“Let’s finish this. Now!” He grabbed her arm, intending to pull her into one of the empty rooms down the hall. She twisted out of his grasp.

“No.” She was white as a sheet and visibly shaking. Grim determination etched into her features. “It’s too late, and I have to leave.”

Cassie swiped a tear from her cheek then strode down the hallway. When she picked up speed, Mike followed. As she began to run, he charged after her.

He caught up with her outside the automatic sliding emergency room doors. Rain pelted them in sheets. He spun her to face him, ignoring the pain shooting from his wound as he gripped her upper arms. His chest felt like it was on fire, but he held fast to Cassie’s soft flesh.

Lightning lit the pitch-black sky. Thunder echoed. The air was so charged with energy, he could smell it. In seconds, they were both drenched.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he shouted. “Not before you tell me exactly what you’re involved in. Someone tried to kill you, and Leo took the hit. I have a responsibility to the people in this town. To protect them, even if it means protecting them from you. You owe me—hell, you owe all of us—an explanation. And don’t even think of playing me again.”

“Please,” she cried, “you have to let me go.” She struggled in his grasp. In the intermittent brightness from the lightning, Mike couldn’t tell if the water streaming down her face was rain or tears. From her tormented expression, he’d bet it was both.

“Why, so you can get someone else killed? Or get killed yourself?” Despite the anger at her betrayal, the thought of her lying dead somewhere nearly sent Mike to his knees. “Talk to me, dammit! Who wants you dead?”

She lowered her head, and Mike fought the urge to press his mouth against her damp hair. “Christ, tell me.” He softened his hold on her arms. “I can protect you.”

“No, you can’t.” She leveled him with that same determined look he’d seen on her face outside the ladies’ room. “I should have stayed where I was. It’s my fault Leo is going to die. I don’t know how I’ll ever live with that or the pain I’ve caused. I don’t want anyone else’s blood…” Mike followed Cassie’s gaze to where fresh blood soaked his shirt “…on my hands.” His wound must have reopened. “Oh, God.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

“
Sorry?
For what?” Leo would likely die and Cassie had about ripped Mike’s heart out. “Getting people hurt, or having a criminal record? The one you lied about not having.”

“What?” Cassie snapped her head up. “I don’t have a—”

“Stop lying,” he hissed through gritted teeth. The conversation they’d had when he changed her flat tire flashed in his mind. “You told me you’d never do anything to hurt anyone in this town and that you’d never done anything illegal. That was a goddamn lie.”

“No,” she screamed, shaking her head. “It wasn’t.”

“Then how do you explain your felony arrests—burglary, narcotics trafficking, endangering minors?”

“Those records are phony.” Cassie twisted from his grip, and this time he let her go. She stood ramrod straight. Defiant. “That’s what I should have told you a long time ago. I’m a cop, Mike. An undercover cop. Those arrests are fabricated, part of my fictitious background. My real name is Cassandra Yates.”

Mike felt as if he’d been slapped. “No. You can’t be.” That would mean… Not again.

Another crack of lightning rent the black sky, illuminating the seriousness on Cassie’s face and adding credibility to her shocking confession. “I’m telling the truth. This is what I wanted to tell you after the fireworks. I’ve been a cop for over ten years, most of it working undercover in New York City. You were right, I am hiding out. You know as well as I do maintaining your fictitious identity is the single most important thing to an undercover cop.”

Yeah, he knew it well. So did Elaine Bitters. He hadn’t seen it coming then. Or now. The blood in his veins seemed to stop flowing. His past flitted before his eyes in all its emotional gore. It wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be happening to him all over again—worked by an undercover cop. No way could he have been duped again this good.

“If you’re a cop, prove it,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I left my shield at home. You know as well as I do undercovers don’t walk around with their real ID.”

Mike held his arms from his sides. “You expect me to take your word for anything—especially something as absurd as this—after all the lies you’ve told?”

He was shouting now, and a middle-aged couple running out of the rain into the emergency room stared at them as they hustled by.

“No, I don’t,” Cassie yelled back. “Call Detective Dominick Carew at the 1
st
Precinct. He’ll confirm it. He’ll also confirm there’s a hit man trying to kill me for the last undercover job I did in Manhattan.”

Energy drained from Mike’s body. He was looking at a complete stranger.

Cassie. An undercover cop.

Suddenly all the pieces of her puzzle fell into place.

Why she’d really landed in town out of the blue and how cryptic she was about her past. The unexpectedly professional way she’d handled herself during the armed robbery at the Nest and how panicked she’d been afterward when the
Gazette
photographer had snapped a shot of her. Now she’d actually given him a name, someone who could corroborate her story.

“Fuck.” He pressed his hand to his forehead. Anger and pain, the likes of which he’d never known, funneled to the surface. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he shouted. “You could have trusted me. Or were you playing me, seeing if you were good enough to fool another cop with your story?”

“I never
played
you.” Cassie’s face was a mask of misery. “I was afraid. I didn’t know you at first.”

“You’ve known me pretty darned well since last night and you still didn’t fess up. It took what happened to Leo before you decided it was important enough for me to know.” Mike searched the face of the woman who’d managed to break through the wall he’d erected to keep others out. The same woman he’d spilled his guts to about the most painful time in his life. The tightening in his chest was almost unbearable. He’d trusted her. He’d let her in, and look where it had gotten him. Where it had gotten Leo. “How long did you plan to keep this charade up? How long were you planning on using me?”

“I wasn’t using you. I planned to tell you everything tonight after the fireworks.” She clasped his face in her hands. “I love you.” Her body started to shake. “I love you with everything that I am.”

Mike shook his head. “No. You. Don’t.” He grabbed her wrists and yanked her hands from his face. “It was an act, all part of your
undercover
act.” The same way it had been part of Elaine’s act when she’d told him she loved him then tape recorded their intimate conversations for a goddamn Internal Affairs investigation.

“It’s not an act,” Cassie cried. “I love you. You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to do anything.” He leaned to within inches of her nose. “It’s over.”

“Why can’t you understand?” She held her arms from her sides. “You’re a cop, too. You would have done the same thing if you had to.”

“No!” Mike got in her face again. Blood pounded at his temples so loud he could hear it, feel it in every cell of his body. “I would
never
have done that to you. I don’t use people.”

“I never meant for it to get this far. I never even expected to be here this long.” Cassie took a deep breath and shuddered. “Whether you believe me or not, I have to go. I have to call my people.”

“As much as I want you out of my sight,” Mike said, knowing deep down in his gut that wasn’t exactly true, “I can’t let you leave. You’re at the center of an attempted homicide, and if you’re telling me the truth, you’re still on this guy’s hit list.”

“Then the best thing is for me to go back to the city,” Cassie said. “To a safe house.”

Rain continued to pound the pavement, though less intensely than before. The echoing thunder had become more distant.

Mike clamped his jaw tight. If he didn’t, he’d say something he’d regret. Like
don’t go
. Not because he still had to interrogate her, but because he didn’t want her to leave. The thought he was so weak he would even think it sickened him.

Duty came first. Not emotion. Not feelings. Nothing personal would get in the way of what he had to do. “You’re going to the police station,” he said as a patrol car pulled to a stop near the emergency room doors. “Even a hired gun won’t try a hit there.”

“Everything all right, Chief?” Officer Mackey shouted from the car’s open window.

“We’re good,” Mike said over Cassie’s head. “Give Cassie a ride to the police station. Make sure she gets inside.” When he looked back her eyes were filled with anguish.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I lied to the whole town, but especially to you. It’s just that I loved my new life the way it was, and I didn’t want anything to change that.”

She gulped down a sob. Her hair was flattened against her head, dripping with rainwater. Part of him wanted to yank her into his arms and never let her go, but he knew he never would.

He could understand the need for maintaining an undercover identity, particularly if there was a hit man involved. But her lies and deception cut him deeply nonetheless. He couldn’t separate her professional caution from the pain and mistrust it was causing him. His guts might as well be staring up at him from a pile on the ground.

Without another word, Cassie turned and headed for the patrol car. Mike watched her get into the passenger side. The car door slammed shut. He followed the red taillights of the car as it left the hospital parking lot. Then she was gone.

He stared into the darkness. A bolt of lightning lit the lot, and his heart split in two. He willed his feet to move, to go after her. But they wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Wind whipped at him. Hard-driven rain stung his face. His shirt and pants were soaked, but he felt numb. Watching Cassie disappear into the night was like watching his life slip away. His future. He balled his fists tightly, keeping them that way intentionally until another shaft of pain darted to his chest. Pain was better than the nothingness Cassie had left behind.

Goddamnit.

He’d believed in her, history unknown. And she’d taken that trust and trashed it.

Chapter Seventeen

“How are you doing?” Officer Mackey asked as he turned onto Main Street a few blocks from the police station. Cassie had met him earlier in the day at Mike’s PBA table.

Rain pounded the streets. The car’s wipers swung back and forth across the windshield in a steady rhythm, making a swishing, thumping noise with each pass. Cassie ran her hand over her wet hair and shivered as cool air from the vents chilled her skin beneath her soaking clothes.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “But thanks for asking.” Mercifully, Officer Mackey had the good sense to know she wasn’t in the mood to make small talk.

In reality, she was thinking about Leo and how she would never forgive herself. The absolute worst thing that could happen to a cop was someone else getting hurt because of their actions. It had happened to Mike. Now it had happened to her.

Cassie blinked rapidly to keep from bursting into uncontrollable tears, something she hadn’t done since she was fifteen years old. All her hopes and dreams for a new life. And love. Gone in a flash.

When she’d told Mike she was an undercover cop, the very thing Cassie feared most played out before her eyes with heinous results. He hadn’t understood. Worse, he’d coldly and emphatically rejected her and her pathetic admission that she was in love with him. Every beautiful moment that had passed between them last night might as well never have happened.

Cassie clawed her fingers into the upholstered seat. Mike didn’t love her or he would never have treated her with such disdain, such icy detachment. The all-consuming, hateful look he’d shot her outside the hospital killed everything inside her.

My life—and Leo’s—destroyed.

Cassie stared through the windshield at the adorable Mom and Pop shops lining the town’s sidewalks. The whole town would hate her when they found out, and that tore at her heart nearly as much as knowing it was over between her and Mike.

It took a moment before she realized the car had stopped at the curb in front of the station and Officer Mackey was staring at her.

“I’ll drop you off here,” he said. “I need to get back to the park, but I’ll wait until you get inside.”

“Thanks for the ride.” Cassie forced a tight smile then got out of the car and shut the door. A few drops of water splashed onto her face, but the torrential downpour had diminished to a light sprinkle.

True to his promise, Officer Mackey waited while she headed up the few steps to the double glass doors of the police station.

Breathing a heavy sigh, she realized that after tonight she would never see any of her new friends again. Tomorrow morning, she’d be on her way back to New Jersey, or to a safe house somewhere in New York City. Hopewell Springs would be nothing more than a blur in her rearview mirror.

The air was thick with humidity and still charged with latent energy from all the lightning. Rivulets of water trickled down her forehead from her matted, drenched hair. Blood spatters dotted the front of the silk blouse that stuck like glue to her skin. The handbag over her shoulder was so wet and heavy it felt as if there was a lead brick inside.

There was, sort of. Her gun was tucked away in the bottom of the bag, a stark reminder of her duties and obligations. Sitting through a night of interrogation by Mike, knowing he didn’t love her, would be the hardest assignment of her life.

As she grabbed the door handle, the patrol car’s engine roared, and Officer Mackey took off down the street in the direction of Effinger Park. Inside the station, fluorescent lights illuminated the front desk. Mike’s dispatcher, Maddy, sat behind the desk, speaking into a microphone. Maddy had to be inundated with duty calls. Every available officer in the vicinity must have been assigned to Effinger Park to deal with the aftermath of the explosion. Sure enough, the portion of the parking lot reserved for official vehicles was empty of all police cruisers.

Cassie pulled the glass door open. As much as she wanted to leave town and never have to see the disappointment on Mike’s face again, she had to agree with him that the station was the safest place in case the hit man tried again. Loads safer than her house.

Her house.

Raven!

Her dog was at the house. Alone. And the hit man knew where she lived.

A frisson of fear shot up her spine. Cassie was certain the bastard had been skulking around the house this morning when Raven had alerted. Maybe Raven was the only thing that had kept him from attacking her then.

She sidestepped out of Maddy’s line of sight. Not a chance in hell she’d leave her beloved dog alone at the house with a homicidal scumbag lurking about town.

Backup would be wise, but Mike was still at the hospital and the rest of his men were at Effinger Park. Everyone was at least fifteen minutes out. Her house, on the other hand, was only five blocks from the station. She could be there in minutes.

Cassie tore down the steps. The road was dark, save for the antique streetlamps lighting her way. Not a single car passed her as she ran down Main Street, splashing through puddles, her bag slamming against her hip.

Jesus, what if the hit man tried to blow up her house? With Raven in it.

Cassie picked up her pace, lengthening her stride until her quads burned. With every house she passed, her worry heightened tenfold. She took the next corner at top speed, nearly slipping on the slick pavement.

Three blocks to go.

Two blocks.

At the next turn, she ran through a deep puddle, soaking her shoes and bare legs. One more turn and she’d be home.

When her house came into view, she stopped, gasping as she braced her palms on her thighs. At least the house hadn’t been blown up like her Trail Blazer.

Cassie yanked out her Smith & Wesson, comforted by the nubby grip beneath her fingers. She tossed her bag behind a nearby shrub and ran the last thirty feet to the house, using trees and telephone poles for cover along the way.

Lighting was marginal at best from the streetlights, but with all the lightning strikes in the area it was a miracle power hadn’t gone out altogether.

Nothing on her front lawn moved. If anyone was hiding near the house, Raven would have let her know. All was quiet, yet as she stepped onto the brick walkway an eerie sense of foreboding crept through her. She tensed, every muscle in her body vibrating.

In a few seconds, Raven would hear Cassie coming and start barking like a hound from hell. She started down the walkway, realizing she was taking one heck of a chance. A professional killer would have to verify his hit in order to take full payment. If he knew she hadn’t died in the explosion, he could be waiting inside. But she had to get Raven.

At any cost.

A steady breeze rustled the waterlogged bushes along the property line, bringing with it the smell of roses—a scent Cassie normally loved.

Not tonight.

As she continued down the brick walkway, the unease creeping up her spine grew steadily. She scanned the front yard again, darting her gaze from left to right, reassessing every inch of the property. Still nothing moved. Nothing out of place.

So why was the hair at the base of her neck prickling as sharp as a cactus?

Because I’m at the bottom of the stairs and Raven hasn’t made a sound!

Cassie clenched her jaw.
Dammit
. She bolted for the side of the house. Water splashed her legs as she raced through the wet grass. She pressed her back against the house’s stone foundation. Her heart thudded, and she gulped to slow her breathing and listen.

Still no Raven. This was so not good.

The grisly image of Raven—shot, bleeding, lying in a pool of blood—flashed before her eyes.

“No,” she breathed.
No. No. No.

She’d brought this bastard to Hopewell Springs, and it was time to end this once and for all. If she went down, she’d go down fighting. And if that fucker had hurt her dog, she’d tear his nuts off.

Let’s get it on, asshole.

Crouching low, she worked her way along the side of the house, pausing beneath the living room window. No sound came from within. Raven was either no longer in the house, or critically wounded. Worse, her K-9 was dead. There was no other explanation for the dog’s uncharacteristic silence.

Cassie’s stomach clenched with sadness and rage.

Don’t lose it now, Yates.

She swallowed hard and glanced at the neighboring houses, also dark and quiet. A jarring sound came from above. Cassie aimed high. A large bird flew out of a tree. An owl, judging by the large wingspan.

With her back to the house, she sidestepped to the rear porch. The old rocker tipped back and forth in the breeze. Suffused light from the open kitchen door spilled onto the decking. No way had she left the door open. Or the kitchen light on. The entire house had been locked up tight when she left for the picnic.

The hit man was inside her home.

Cassie gripped her gun tighter, fighting back a growl.

Fucking bastard, you’ll pay for this.

But Christ, she needed the guy alive—to grill him about the sonofabitch who hired him. That put a different spin on things. This couldn’t be a kill scenario. It had to be a capture.

Keeping low, she crept around the back of the porch and scanned the base of the stairs, shifting her gaze from side to side, searching for a dark figure.

The solid heft of her duty weapon felt good in her hands, although it was probably the last time she would ever use it. For ten years she’d been a cop, but that part of her life was over. Whether she left this house on her own two feet or in a body bag, tonight was the end of her police career.

She took the porch stairs one at a time, then crept across the deck, wincing as her soggy shoes made sucking noises with every step. A timely gust of wind rustled the trees, muffling her unstealthy approach.

As she reached for the screen door handle, danger tingled along her skin like a swarm of bugs. The door squeaked as she tugged on it. Realizing a silent approach was out of the question, she yanked open the door and went in low. With precise motions, she cleared the room, aiming her gun throughout the kitchen until she was sure of one thing.

No one was there.

The only sound besides the clock ticking over the stove was her heart—pounding like a jackhammer. She glanced at the clock. Nearly midnight.

Cassie peered through the kitchen, into the living room, to the front door. At first, she didn’t see a thing. As her eyes adjusted, something came into focus. On the floor. In front of the door. Something dark and not moving. Cassie gasped.

“Raven!”

She stepped into the hallway and froze. She didn’t know what it was…a wisp of unexpected air movement… The all-but-silent inhalation of another person in the room…

The crush of shoes on carpet.

He’s here.

Taking a step backward into the kitchen, Cassie gripped her gun tighter, her eyes narrowing as she tried in vain to pierce the veil of blackness cloaking the living room.

Her heart thumped wildly. The only sound she heard now was her own heavy breathing.

As the hairs on the back of her neck tingled in warning, she retreated another step into the kitchen. Instinct pushed her to run headfirst into the living room to Raven’s aid, but that same feeling told her he was lying in wait.

To kill me.

The heel of her shoe bumped against the threshold, and she barely caught herself before falling on her ass.

A second later, a massive body knocked her against the doorframe.
Sonofa—
The breath was knocked out of her chest. Pain knifed into her side, and she hit the tile hard, her gun skittering across the floor.

She lashed out, making contact with the meaty part of her attacker’s thigh. Dark pants and a white T-shirt with something written on it. She raised her head to look at his face.

A goatee.

He smacked her in the jaw with the back of his hand. The next thing she felt was cold tile as her head hit the kitchen floor. Pain lanced through her skull, and she nearly blacked out.

The bastard gripped her hair, jerking her head back. She screamed as he dragged her across the floor by her hair. Tension built along her scalp, then sharp, stabbing pain as some of her hair was pulled out at the roots. Screaming again, she flailed her arms behind her.

No! This is not happening. Not this way!

Cassie fumbled blindly behind her, her heart racing as she tried landing a blow. She connected with one of his shins.
Take that, asshole!
He grunted but continued to drag her into a corner of the kitchen.

Twisting in his grip, again Cassie lashed out, punching his groin. He growled and released her hair so suddenly her head hit the floor with a
whack
. She grunted, momentarily disoriented, then began scrambling on her hands and knees toward the kitchen door. It was her only avenue of escape.

Almost there.
She got to her feet, bolting for the door just as he grabbed her arm, practically wrenching it out of its socket. Lancing pain shot up her arm to her shoulder, and she cried out.

He jerked her back against his chest, gripping both her arms. The more she struggled, the tighter his hold. His breath was hot against her neck and smelled of stale coffee. Cassie’s stomach churned until she wanted to vomit. “Bastard,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “No matter what you do to me, they’ll come for you. They’ll
never
stop coming for you.” She tried jabbing her free elbow into his ribs, but he twisted away.

“Bitch,” he growled, then abruptly let her go.

She spun to see his fist a fraction of a second before it slammed into her jaw. She flinched, raising her arms to deflect the blow.

Too late.

Bolts of pain shot through her face. White stars clouded her vision. She went down hard. As she struggled to rise, a heavy foot on her back pushed her down. The next thing she expected to hear was a gunshot as a bullet entered the back of her head.

Something bristly looped around her neck.