Page 48 of Sin

“And you,” he flicks Hirsh on the chest, “stop making people want to injure you all the time.”

“Ouch,” Hirsh complains, rubbing his chest, but then looks at me. “What do you want me to say? Truth is, yes, I think you have enough solid proof to open a case, but the chance of it going to trial and getting a conviction is a crap shoot with house odds being in your father’s favor.”

“But you have my account of him pushing her down the stairs. And the blood test showed she had strychnine in her system?”

He takes a sip of his black coffee. “You were five years old when you witnessed that. There’s going to be considerable doubt about the veracity of your memory. Also, a good prosecutor could plant a dozen doubts in a jury’s minds about how the poison ended up in your mother’s system.” He looks at Oliver who nods at him. He turns his attention back on me. “Ollie told me that you might have significant evidence that your father is involved with Digger McRee’s illegal activities?”

“And if I did?” I ask, not willing to confirm or deny anything just yet.

“Then I’d turn that evidence in to me, and I can see it will get to the proper authorities, who will make sure your father does jail time.”

“Yeah, in some cushy federal prison that resembles a country club, and he ends up paroled in a year.” I flip him off. “No, thanks.”

“I’ve heard a lot of chatter the last day or so.” He leans in, elbows on the table. “Word is that illegal fighting and kidnapping charges are the least of the indictments that are coming down in the next few days for anyone they can tie to Digger and the Reivers. From the sound of it, your father will face considerable jail time if he gets convicted.”

“It isn’t good enough.”

“It’s a hell of a lot better than trying to get a jury to deliver a fifteen-year-old murder conviction for a death that was ruled an accident.”

“That’s my gamble to take.”

“Maybe.” He sits back and regards me. “Or I could just subpoena both of you for those records. You’d have to comply.”

“Go for it,” I tell him, and I think he’s surprised that his threats don’t intimidate me. Obviously, he doesn’t know me very well. “But you’re forgetting I have all the fuck-you money I could ever need.” I take a slow sip of my coffee just to make Hirsh wait on me. “That subpoena gets issued, I’ll be on a private plane to a nice, tropical, non-extradition island before it leaves the judge’s chamber.” I jab my thumb in Oliver’s direction. “And I’ll take him with me.”

I followed a hunch, and it scored. Hirsh swivels a panicked glance at his ex-partner, like Oliver is suddenly in danger of disappearing right in front of him.

“I could definitely go for drinking pretty, colored drinks that look like sunrises and getting laid by hot charter boat captains,” Oliver chimes in, clearly enjoying Hirsh’s reaction.

“You’re allergic to orange juice and you get seasick,” Hirsh growls in response. “So it looks like I’m taking the case if only to save you from a future of chronic nausea.”

Oliver smirks. “Do you think Captain Malek is going to give you trouble about opening this case?”

“I already got his okay on it before I showed up here today.”

The fucking nerve of this guy.“Then why in the fuck have I been wasting the last hour of my life convincing you to take this case?”

He targets me with a gaze I’m pretty sure he uses on the suspects he interrogates. “’Cause I have a feeling this is going to be a bitch of a case, and I needed to know you were strong enough to endure what this case is going to cost you.”

“Cost me?”

“Going after your mother’s murderer is a righteous cause, Sin, but I can see it in your eyes, you’re out for more than that. You want revenge, and trust me, I get it. I saw that need in my own eyes every time I looked in the mirror for years.”

“You saidsaw.”I point out. “Does that mean you got your revenge?” I’m curious and also envious of how it might feel to have the burning need that consumes me finally be sated.

“I did,” he confirms, “but revenge is a possessive bitch, Sin, and once it gets ahold of you, it will seek out everything you ever loved.” His gaze tracks to Oliver and then back to me. “And take it away from you.”

It’s four in the morning before I leave my meeting with Oliver and Hirsh. I grab a piece of cheesecake from the dessert window at the coffee shop to bring to Cassidy to make up for the one we left in Lexington. I plan on sneaking into his room as soon as I get home and feeding it to him.

I know, like Cassidy pointed out earlier, that I’m breaking the rules that I explicitly set for him, but I’m a firm believer that rules are in place for other people and not for me. I’m warped like that.

Plus, Hirsh telling me that revenge cost him everything he ever loved keeps echoing in my head. I need to see Cassidy. Touch him. So I can reassure myself that Hirsh’s warning doesn’t apply to us. That I can have Cassidy and revenge against my father.

There are still reporters camped outside the gates when I pull through the security entrance. I ignore them and drive through. I’ll be giving them all interviews soon, and they won’tbe the scandal-dousing interviews my father and his crisis team are envisioning. I’m going to go on air and announce to everyone who will point a camera at me that my father killed my mother.

Finally, I pull into the garage and with nothing but ideas on how exactly I’m going to wake Cassidy, I get out of my car to see a fully dressed and awake Cassidy stalking to Betty Jo with the carry-on he’d used on our trip to Lexington over his shoulder.

“Where in the hell do you think you’re going?”

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