Page 26 of H E R
“Why not?” He’s asking the both of us, but his eyes stay on mine.
Noah crosses his arms over his chest. “I guess you missed the orientation session, then. All cases that lead to Vork go cold and end up never being touched again. Regardless of the mounting evidence.”
Dylan cocks his head to the side. “Vork?”
Years of calculated undercover work and training, the time I have committed to my blog and reports, pour out of me in an involuntary throng. “Vork, street name for Kennedy Miller: the thug that comes second in command, a henchman, leads an impressive number of corrupt men in the surrounding counties. He owns the fucking streets… all crimes committed begin and end with him, I assure you.”
Dylan’s big dark eyes lock with mine and they soften, peeling back a sliver of his composure, but all too suddenly, it snaps back, the smooth and cool look of control and professionalism on full blast again.
“There’s a lot I’m not aware of… I apologize. It’s going to be handled very differently from now on. The point of my visit, however, relates to the increasing amount of data that’s been entered into the file… nothing’s been sent to the labyet.”
“What kind of evidence?” I step forward. I’m practically two feet away from Dylan.
He stands, startled by my approach, but regards me thoughtfully. “Data, not evidence.”
“What the fuck is the difference between the two?”
I hear, rather than feel, as Noah puts his hands on my shoulders tenderly, in a gesture to calm my coiling nerves. Without thinking, I shake him off. I don’t want to calm down.
“Many, in fact. The data hasn’t been looked through, no one’s been questioned, and it hasn’t been screened. Like I said, nothing’s been sent to the lab. Evidence, however, would be concrete, a confirmation. None of the data on your parent’s murder has been confirmed. Nonetheless, the information verifies that something isn’t right.” He strokes the five o’clock shadowy stubble with the back of his hand and scans the dry grass suddenly. His eyes dart back to mine, and I let out a sigh, realizing that I’d been holding my breath, watching his every move. “I’m taking the case.”
“Why?”
“It’s obvious something is wrong, Niki. Now that I’m aware of this, I can’t just stand back like every other damn detective. I’m not the type that can be bought.”
His voice is low, threatening. It chills me to know this man has a gun permit.
“Well, I appreciate it, I guess.”
“You’ll let your brother know for me? He’d already left for work when I stopped by your house.”
Which means Jasmin sent him to Noah’s trailer. What the fuck.
“Of course. He’ll be… pleased.”
“I know it isn’t much, especially since the case will remain sealed, but it may offer some closure.”
I look away then, to the blinding light of the deep blue sky and white puffy clouds. “Not sure that’s possible, Detective. You see, Iwitnessedthe murder of my parents. I know exactly who took them from me.” I turn and meet his unwavering gaze. “The fucker responsible is protected by your force.”
Dylan inhales sharply, as if it’s the first time he’s heard this information. “The file says there were witnesses. It even says they were killed in front of one of their kids… I thought it’d been Julius.”
“No, Jule was…” I don’t want to get into this. It’s early, but a couple of my nosy neighbors are beginning to sprout. Noah is trusted blindly, but I still feel wary about talking to a cop where people can see. I shake my head and Noah turns me around and holds me against his rock-hard chest. I let him hold me.
“If you’re finished now, we’d like to go to sleep. We both work long hours andmy Justicehere worked the entire night—”
“Right.” Dylan’s eyes stay on Noah. “You have my card, Niki. Call me anytime and I’ll update you with any new information.”
“Update me with any andallinformation, Detective.”
His blackeyes finally land on mine. “Dylan. You can drop the title.”
I nod, my mouth all dry as if I just swallowed a handful of cotton balls. I want to say goodnight, but I know it’s more like good morning to him, and my face turns red to think of what Dylan may conjure–Noah and I are going to bed together.
“What’s wrong?” We’re back in Noah’s trailer, and as soon as the door is closed, his stance changes. He’s no longer holding me and he seems upset for some reason.
“He calls you Niki.”
I shrug. “It’s my first name.”