Free Blind Faith by Christiane Heggan Page A

diapers aren't my idea of fun," she had told him during one of their many discussions about starting a family. "When you make enough money to hire a full-time nanny, we'll talk." He had never brought up the subject again. Pushing his thoughts aside, he took the suitcase by the handle. "I'll be back in an hour or so. Is that all right?"
    Patti nodded. "Take your time. Nick--and thank you."
    Ten.
    -Nick sat in his parked Ford Taurus, the suitcase on the passenger seat.
     
    Directly in front of him was the Roundhouse, a circular, six-story concrete structure that was home to the Philadelphia Police Department.
    After telling himself over an
dover
that the right thing to do--the only thing to do--was to turn the money in to his captain. Nick was still trying to figure out a way to spare Matt's family from needless embarrassment.
    His first impulse had been to burn the damn thing and just forget about it. That way Patti and the girls wouldn't have to run away and leave behind the friends who loved them, the friends they so desperately needed right now.
    He might have done it, too, if it hadn't been for Jake Matias and Miguel Santos, the two thugs who were awaiting trial. They hadn't ratted on Matt and Nick knew why. Soon the operation would need another cop on the inside. That would be possible only if the chosen man felt he could trust them. Matias and
Santos
knew that once Patti found the money, the first person she'd go to would be Matt's best friend. If the money wasn't turned in, the mob would know Nick had disposed of it, and that would give them a huge advantage. They would expect favors in exchange for their silence, which was something Nick couldn't allow. He had joined the force for one reason--to help rid this city of scum like Matias and
Santos
.
    So far he hadn't done too badly. The police academy, from which he had graduated at the top of his class, had given him the solid foundation a cop needed to do his job. The rest he had learned from a master--his father.
    For a while. Nick had toyed with the idea of becoming a professional boxer. After winning a string of titles in the middle-weight division and being approached by several high-level scouts, the thought of turning pro and making the kind of money a nineteen year-old could only dream of had been almost overwhelming. But when Patrick Mcbride had been shot in the line of duty during a bank robbery. Nick's priorities had suddenly changed.
    As he sat beside his father's hospital bed, waiting for him to regain consciousness. Nick realized that his values had been all wrong. Money wasn't what mattered, or boxing. What mattered was coming home at night with a sense of pride and accomplishment, the belief that what you had done that day had made a difference.
    The risks for a man on the force were high, the monetary reward low and the glory nonexistent. But Nick had known at that very moment that being a cop was his destiny. When his father had opened his eyes and heard of Nick's decision, the look in the old man's eyes was all Nick had needed to know he'd made the right choice.
    A knock on his window brought an end to his reverie. A rookie he knew waved to him. Nick waved back and watched him head toward the Roundhouse. The young man's jaunty walk and sharp uniform reminded Nick of himself when he had first joined the force nineteen years ago. He had been full of youthful spunk in those days. And he'd been impulsive. He still was. The captain called him a hothead, and only let him get away with it because Nick got the job done.
    He threw one last look at the suitcase. "Sorry, Matt," he murmured.
    "Got to do it by the book."
    Grabbing the handle, he opened the car door and got out.
    "Aw, shit." Captain David Cross was a tall, muscular African-American with three commendations to his name and a reputation for being tough and demanding. He was also the kind of cop whose emotions ran deep, especially where his men were concerned.
    He took one look at the contents of the