Page 105 of Wicked Sin

Then he’s gone, and I’m being dragged deeper into the suite. Ali has a big plan to watch Queer Eye and not talk about the criminal takedown that’s about to happen on the other side of the city. Hailey is reassuring me that Cole will be on top of any updates.

And all I can think about is the detective who just walked out that door and took a part of me with him.

33

Luke

It takesthe captain less than an hour. When she arrives with the warrant, we’re waiting in a surveillance van a block away from Newcomb’s apartment, a low-lying nondescript walk-up in a low-rent neighborhood.

We have an undercover team playing basketball right outside his window, and to the best of our knowledge, he isn’t home.

“The warrant is pretty tight,” Woods says. “We’re looking for evidence of stalking Taylor. That’s it. If we don’t find that, we can’t keep looking for murder evidence, not unless it’s lying in plain sight. Got it? We can’t fuck this up. He might be just as smart as he is dangerous. If we don’t find it now, we need to leave room open to find it later.”

“Yes, boss.”

“All right. On my signal, let’s go.”

We radio for a last update on his whereabouts then head in. The van drops us as close as humanly possible without driving through his wall.

McBride and Singh go first, with the warrant. They find the superintendent, who likes the piece of paper more than he likes his tenant, and immediately lets them in.

The captain and I follow as soon as they’re at the door.

Inside, it’s a generic one bedroom with rent-a-room furniture and a vague smell of single man. Cologne and too-strong lemon Pledge.

“Nothing visible in the living room,” Singh says. “Sarah, you take the bedroom. I’ll check the kitchen, such as it is.”

“Not a problem,” McBride says, stopping in the doorway of the bedroom. She turns around, whipping her hand out and planting it in the middle of my chest.

Holding me back because…holy fuck.

The place is a shrine to Taylor. Her photos are everywhere.

And so are photos of the reservoir.

Every murder victim photographed. Taylor’s head imposed on each of the bodies.

Behind me, Captain Woods swears under her breath, then calls in the update. “Suspect should be considered armed and dangerous. Let’s keep this to the tightest possible comms channels. Suspect is a Secret Service agent. Repeat, he should be considered armed and dangerous. Last known whereabouts was the Northeast police station approximately ninety minutes ago.”

When she finishes, she looks at me, then to Singh and McBride. “What next?”

Right.

This is their case. I was brought along as a courtesy. But I’m a good cop, and an extra body. I’m still in this, whether they think they need me or not.

Ram gestures at the bedroom. “I’ll stay here until Forensics arrives to document and bag up this psychotic mess. Captain, you and McBride go back to the station and work the comms fan out. We may need federal assistance to find this fucker.”

“Cole Parker has resources,” I say, my throat tight.

I’ll fucking use them even if the LAPD can’t.

The captain coughs. “One thing at a time, Vasquez. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

But if it does, I know what choice I’ll make.

I’ll protect Taylor, every fucking time.

“Are you going back to the hotel?” Sarah asks me.

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