Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            Tom thought about what he’d done to take down Tory’s killer. He wasn’t sorry. Well, maybe about one or two details, but not about the end result. “Does Mercy know?”

            “She does. I wasn’t sure what she’d think of me, but she was happy I’d taken them out. Said that I’d made it possible for my partner to go home to his family by having his back. That I’d survived and seen justice done.”

            “I’m glad.” Tom’s voice was rough, and he had to clear his throat. He wondered what Liza would think if she knew what he’d done and immediately relaxed, knowing that she’d be happy about the end result as well. His Liza was fierce and unafraid and wired to protect. Tory would have liked her.

            Wait. What? His breath stuttered in his chest, making him cough. His Liza? She was not his. And if he wanted her to be? She wouldn’t be happy with that. Especially not given their most recent conversations. And even if she were happy with it . . . Just thinking of her and Tory in the same breath seemed like betrayal.

            “You okay?” Rafe asked blandly.

            Tom took a gulp of beer. “Yeah. Just swallowed wrong.” He cleared his throat again and waited for his breathing to even out. What were they even talking about? Oh. Right. “Did the Chicos have a hand in Bella’s murder? Is that why it’s personal?”

            “Indirectly. They were one of our target’s biggest suppliers. The Chicos had a reason to keep the city’s organized crime alive and well. Supply and demand and all that. I remember a few of the midlevel thugs. DJ wasn’t one of the ones I worked with. I can tell you that.”

            “Good to know.” Tom pushed the cheese plate away, no longer hungry. “I hope Croft is more successful with her search than I’ve been with mine.”

            “You’ve been trying to track that kid’s e-mail.”

            Tom just looked at him. “Jeff Bunker told you?” Because of course he would have.

            “Yeah. It all came out over dinner when his mom and mine teamed up to make sure Zoya and Jeff know never to drive to San Francisco alone again. You weren’t able to track it?”

            “Not to the source. I think they’ve pulled their server offline. Or maybe they only hook it up when they want to use it.”

            “Before this morning, I’d hoped that they’d gone quiet because DJ was dead.”

            “Yeah. Asshole,” Tom muttered. The picture of Liza standing in front of that glass door would not vacate his mind. “How are Mercy and Abigail doing?”

            “Abigail is okay but Mercy is wrecked. She held it together for Abigail, but once we were alone, she fell apart. After a month of watching her every move she’d grown a little complacent. Her word, not mine. She knew he’d never give up, but, like the rest of us, she hoped he was dead. She was worried about Liza because of the way she left this afternoon.”

            Tom felt his cheeks heat at the question in Rafe’s direct gaze, but there was no way he was going there. Especially when he didn’t understand it himself. “She was upset for a while, but I think her friend helped cheer her up.”

            “Her friend?”

            “Mike.” The groper. Smug bastard.

            “Right.” Rafe shook his head again. “If the e-mail trace is a bust, what else do you have?”

            Tom opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I can’t talk about those things.”

            Rafe pulled a notepad from his pocket. “Good thing that I can talk about it.”

            “What?”

            Rafe waved the notepad. “A summary of my own Eden project file.”

            “You’re not—”

            “Supposed to be working on it. Whatever. If you can’t talk to me, you can listen.”

            Tom settled on his stool. “I wondered what you’d been doing for the last month. I figured you wouldn’t sit idle when it came to Mercy’s safety. Hit me.”





EIGHT



ROCKLIN, CALIFORNIA

            WEDNESDAY, MAY 24, 8:00 P.M.