Free The Detective's Dilemma by Kate Rothwell Page B

She paused then added. “What does this have to do with blackmail?”
    “Nothing much, but listen anyway. You’re right, I was there. And when that thing blew, everyone took off, running from the fire, heading in the other direction like sane people.”
    “And you didn’t.” She shook her head and grimaced. “I remember reading that every pane of glass for blocks around shattered. You’re admitting you’re insane, then?”
    “I ran toward the explosion. When something like that happens, that’s my instinct. I don’t run away.” He’d forgotten crawling through smoke and those moments of fear followed by satisfaction as he helped free a man from the rubble. Telling her brought back the vigor of those old days when he knew what he did was right.
    “So your life is like a dreadful explosion?”
    He grinned. “Sure. I like helping people and I don’t like being pushed around. Maybe someday I’ll figure out a way to get the people your father-in-law hired off my back.”
    “You don’t seem to be trying to escape.” She sounded sad, without a note of sarcasm.
    True enough. Getting along day to day seemed enough lately. He could only shrug. She wasn’t done questioning him, though. “If you weren’t caught by the people who threaten you, how did they find out you were the one to put the weapon there?”
    He shrugged again. “I have my suspicions.”
    Those hazel eyes remained steady on him. He stared back though it took some effort. “A friend, a cop assigned to the bureau,” he said. He suspected a few fellow officers on the force kept an eye on him, but he didn’t bother with that detail. “I told him what I wanted to do with the revolver.” They’d been out for a drink together, but he didn’t add that part. “I’m fairly certain he was the only person who knew.”
    She brushed her knuckles across her lips. “I know what it’s like to have a friend betray you.”
    “Do you? What happened to you?”
    She waved a slender hand. “It’s silly. But this conversation is about you now.”
    “Say, you do a pretty good job of bossy grand dame.”
    The corner of her mouth twitched up, but otherwise she ignored him. “Did you try to talk to your friend in the police? After?”
    “He denied talking to anyone else. In fact, he pretended to be shocked that there were crooked folks in the ranks above us—that’s a laugh. I guess he’s a good actor. These days, when he sees me coming, he goes the other way.”
    “He’s a policeman too. So much corruption. Don’t you take some sort of oath when you join the force?”
    “Yeah. And there’s some kind of lip service on that too. My ‘friend’ said I should turn in the people who have a hold on me.”
    “That’s a good idea.”
    “After he said that, I figured they were watching me real closely, waiting to see if I’d keep dancing to their tune. I will for now because fact is, I don’t know who up top is crooked and who isn’t. If I talk to the wrong people, well, prison would be one solution. People, even cops, tend to disappear. If I could figure out whom to talk to, I would.” The usual rage filled him, and he shook his head. “If I guess wrong, I could end up dead.”
    “Good heavens,” she said faintly. “I can see why you do the work for them.”
    She seemed serious, but he felt the sting of criticism—the same sort he aimed at himself, especially late at night. “Those employers were only a little bothered when I pulled the trick with the murderer’s gun. They had me beaten and then laid out the new terms of my work. If I made a move against them, and not just against someone under their protection…” He didn’t bother finishing.
    “You must have some of the names of the corrupt men.”
    “Yes, but I don’t know how high it goes,” he said, and then suddenly understood her reasons for all this prodding. “I think it’s dangerous for you if you know any names.”
    She glared at him.
    He smiled back. “No, not a word