“Go screw yourself.” It’d be better than screwing with his sister. No, he couldn’t let himself think about that. If he did, he’d break his own arms trying to get free so he could take Logan Riske apart.
“I need information.”
Rowdy said nothing. Trying to share information had started this whole f**king catastrophe. Trusting a cop, any cop, could get him killed. Not really a good trade-off.
“You worked at Checkers a few years ago, at the same time that a city commissioner was murdered. Jack Carmin.”
Saying nothing, Rowdy looked away.
Logan pressed on. “I know you remember. You went to the reporter—”
No, he hadn’t, but he said only, “The reporter who got his throat cut open? Yeah, I remember it well.” It was something he’d never forget. Now he prayed Pepper wouldn’t forget, either. “Where the f**k were the boys in blue back then? You ever wonder about that?”
“Often, actually.”
That surprised Rowdy enough that he started to reassess. “No shit?”
After a second of indecision, Logan leaned forward with purpose. Rowdy didn’t know if Logan planned to slug him, murder him or make a confession of his own.
Before Logan could say a word, the other detective opened the door. “You have a call, Logan.”
Logan scowled at his buddy. “The lieutenant?”
“No.”
Irate over the interruption, he said, “So take a message.”
The big man’s gaze crawled over Rowdy, then returned to Logan. Voice lower, he said, “It’s about his sister.”
The chair crashed backward as Rowdy launched out of his seat. With his hands shackled to the table, he could do nothing more than cause a disruption. “Where is she?” Helplessness strangled him. “What’s happened?”
Logan reacted almost as badly. “Watch him,” he ordered the detective, and in two long strides he left the room.
Breathing hard, Rowdy stared at the other man. “If she’s hurt—”
“Emotionally, I’m sure she’s devastated.” In a show of insouciance, the cop put his hands in his pockets and took a relaxed stance at the edge of the table. “The two of you seem hell-bent on ensuring that.”
Taking him to task? And including Logan in the censure?
“I’m Detective Bareden, by the way. Reese Bareden.”
“Fuck off.” This was the weirdest situation he’d ever experienced. An arrest that maybe wasn’t. Questioning that didn’t cover the expected. Casual introductions. And now concern for his sister? Not just from Riske, but from Bareden, too?
None of it made sense—yet.
“You don’t know anything about her.” But the detective was right. Pepper needed him now, more than ever.
Still with disregard for the extreme circumstances, Bareden rolled one shoulder. “I know she’s a young woman who’s been put in an untenable position, with few choices left to her.”
Unfortunately, Rowdy had even fewer choices than his sister. “Damn you, tell me that she’s all right.”
“I have no idea,” Bareden said. “But I do know she slipped away from my officers.”
It took a few seconds for that to sink in past the fear, for the gnawing panic to recede. Pepper had eluded the hawks.
Thank God.
Rowdy needed to sit, but he’d toppled his chair. He folded his arms on the table and put down his head instead, intent on regaining his calm.
Helplessness was not a comfortable happenstance.
He felt Bareden approach, tensed for an attack, but then heard the chair legs scrape as the detective righted it.
“My officers are diligent.”
Not diligent enough, obviously. Not for Pepper. Rowdy sent more thanks heavenward before lifting his head. He smiled at Bareden. “The evidence would prove otherwise, yeah?”
Bareden ignored that to say, “That was some extreme reaction you had.”
“Fuck you again.”
“I’m curious.” He studied Rowdy’s face. “Are you worried about her giving up info on you, or for her safety?”
Gratefully, Rowdy dropped into the chair. “She’ll never talk.” Not that she had anything incriminating against him anyway. He rubbed tired eyes and prayed that Pepper would disappear, then stay gone. Arrangements had been made to enable her.
But would she leave him?
Logan stormed back in. He hit the door so hard that it bounced off the wall with resounding force. Reese tried to stop him, but he shoved past with uncensored aggression to grab Rowdy by the shirtfront. “Where the f**k is she?”
Unfazed by the anger, Rowdy eyed Logan’s taut features, the bunched muscles, the clenched jaw. Huh. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Detective Riske was actually worried for her.
Interesting.
He glanced at Bareden. “And you thought my reaction was extreme?”
Logan shook him. “Tell me, damn you.”
“Sure thing.” Knowing it’d get to the cop even more, Rowdy let his satisfaction show. “She’s where you’ll never find her.” And now, finally, he could relax a little—at least on that score.
* * *
PEPPER STOOD AT THE SINK, scissors in hand. Bold streaks of lighter blond now enhanced her natural blond color. Because she’d often cut her and Rowdy’s hair, she wasn’t totally inept. A salon would have been better, but it was too late for that.