Don't Look Back. Joanne Rock
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That didn’t sound good. And judging by the suddenly chalky pallor of her skin, he’d say the photos weren’t your garden-variety vacation shots.
“Are they…compromising?” He suddenly wondered if this case they were pursuing could possibly be even more personal to Donata than it was to him.
“If you mean are they naked, the answer is yes. Go ahead and have a look, Beringer, and you’ll see just how bad of a girl I once was.”
4
“WAS THERE A LETTER with it?” Using the corner of his T-shirt to prevent any extra fingerprints, Sean picked up the box the envelope had arrived in without looking at photos that obviously embarrassed her. “The package couldn’t have gone through FedEx with no labels. Somebody must have dropped it in front of your neighbor’s place.”
“I didn’t see a note.” Donata shook her head, her pale skin even whiter than usual as she stared at the envelope full of photos. “I didn’t even look at all the pictures.”
And who could blame her? She had to have busted her tail to climb the ranks of the police force the way she did, even with key recommendations from two FBI agents she’d worked with to get the dirt on her old boyfriend. No wonder she wasn’t in any hurry to look through a package of photos that could destroy her career or—at very least—shred her credibility.
“I’ll look through them if you want me to, Donata. But if you’d rather keep them private, I’m going to ask you to scan through everything before we decide what to do next.” He knew he wasn’t the cop here, but she didn’t look ready to take on the lead investigator role right now.
This had to suck big-time for her.
What the hell kind of partner did she have to leave her hanging on a huge case like this? He knew of Mick Juarez’s reputation on the police force, but the guy sure didn’t seem to be living up to it today. But Sean prayed she didn’t want him to take a peek because he didn’t know how well he’d handle seeing naked pictures of this woman. And she definitely didn’t need a P.I. with a hard-on trying to straighten out this mess.
She nodded. Blinked.
“I’ll do it.” With shaking fingers, she reached into the envelope and withdrew the stack of photos, keeping the backs of the prints to him. About ten in all. “I don’t see any—Wait.”
Sean set the box by the front door as a reminder to her to bring it into the lab guys tomorrow so she could have it run for prints. The incident might not have anything to do with her investigation, but she’d want to follow up on it anyhow.
“You got something?”
“Yeah. It says, ‘I have a few photos that will make nice wall art for the 10th precinct. Leave the filmmaker case alone and I’ll keep the pictures our secret.’ There’s no signature.”
The note made him wonder how explicit the photos might be but he didn’t think he could handle that discussion right now with his thoughts running wild. His imagination was too damn vivid when it came to supplying possibilities.
“Your friends at the FBI would be interested in this. Even without being processed through FedEx, using their packaging might make a case that this was a federal crime.” The selfish half of him didn’t want the feds swarming around any more than he wanted city cops treading over his terrain.
But if Sergio had his people coming after Donata personally, Sean could see the benefit to creating a world of trouble for the prick.
“No.” She slid the stack of photos into the envelope and laid the pack on her coffee table. “This is my case and I’m not handing it over to you, or the FBI or anyone else.”
Resolve glittered in her blue eyes.
“I know this is a low blow—”
“It’s more than that.” She paced around the living room and pulled open the front of a wooden cabinet that turned into a minibar, her hand shaking ever so slightly. “This is his way of trying to tear down everything I’ve worked for. My self-respect. My standing in the workplace. My first real career.”
Sean had an inkling how hard it must have been for her to come up through the ranks to get where she was today. Beyond the obvious physical challenges for a woman who was all of five foot four, Donata had to pass the interviews, the character background check that would have grilled her on her relationship with a criminal, and then there would have been the high chance of prejudice within the department. No matter how good her intentions as an informant, her fellow cops couldn’t have appreciated her time spent living with a well-known gangster.
And naked pictures of her on the loose would cause more of an uproar given her history. Not to mention the problems it would cause for her in getting her job done. Her colleagues might have trouble taking her seriously and damn it but he didn’t want anyone else seeing her naked.
“Let me handle this and we can keep it out of the police department. If I need backup, or I think you could be in physical danger, I can call in the FBI instead of the NYPD.” He’d been working on this case for so long he’d accumulated thousands of names of subscribers to the illicit reality porn services. As soon as he had enough proof to arrest a few of the key figures, he’d take down supporters of the industry all over the country. Restricting NYPD’s access to anything that touched the investigation was a win for him and a win for Donata’s career.
She set a bottle of Amaretto on the bar with excessive force, inciting a clink of every glass hanging upside down over the minibar.
“Damn it, Sean, will you wake up and see that this isn’t about what you want anymore?” She hadn’t even poured her drink when she snapped the cabinet closed again and walked. “I understand that you’re pissed off on your sister’s behalf and I don’t blame you. But there are more girls than her getting hurt every day that you wait to break this case.”
“Jesus, Donata. It’s never been about me.” How could she think that when he’d thrown his whole life into turmoil by quitting the force so he could investigate this ring the way he wanted and not the slow way some giant bureaucratic agency wanted it handled? His choices had cost him plenty.
“Come on, Sean. You think I don’t know why you’ve been waiting to blow the whistle on this operation?” She shook her head as she picked up a book of matches and lit a fat candle with four separate wicks. “I know enough about being an outsider to recognize someone else’s need for vindication. But this can’t be the story of ex-cop vigilantism that you want it to be. Too many people are getting hurt along the way.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” At least, he wanted her to be wrong because he sure as hell didn’t like the picture of him she painted. “I’m just trying to make sure there’s enough evidence to put this crew away for a long time. You know as well as I do, they’ll be back on the streets abusing kids in no time otherwise.”
“Fine. We’ll make sure we’ve got evidence. I’ll go through the files tomorrow and I’d appreciate it if you’d share what you know so we can move forward. But I can guarantee you, I’m not walking away from this.”
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