But the worst part was that, if he’d been on the other side, looking at the parade of evidence Internal Affairs was trotting out, he’d suspect him, too. And he didn’t know how to deal with that.
“—explain that deposit into your bank account?”
“I told you I can’t,” Logan said wearily. “I only know I didn’t put it there.”
“Look, Beck, everybody knows it’s hard. You work with slime like that, see them rolling in cash, while you’re risking your life for next to nothing…”
Logan looked up then. George Harkin had been, if not a friend, at least not an enemy, once. They’d gone through the police academy together and had worked in the patrol division at the same time. Harkin had transferred to IA shortly after Logan had gotten the promotion to detectives.
“You think I did this, don’t you?” He couldn’t quite believe it even as he said the words.
“I think anybody can succumb to temptation, given the right circumstances.”
There was a note of superiority in his tone that made Logan flinch inwardly. Harkin had congratulated him on the promotion to detectives eight years ago, but the words had been tinged with an edge that had made Logan wonder if they were genuine. Now he had the sinking feeling he’d been right.
“I swear, George, I didn’t. Why would I?”
Harkin shrugged, as if motive was the least significant part of this equation and not his concern. Logan had always known Harkin was ambitious, had his eyes on a steady climb in the department. Apparently if that climb included jettisoning friends and the truth, so be it.
“Think about it,” he said, hoping to find some trace of the man who had once been his friend in the man sitting in ominous silence across the table from him. “Don’t you wonder how all this evidence just sort of fell into your lap? A string of anonymous tips about a cop working undercover? You know that’s suspect right there.”
“Yet everything the caller gave us proved out. Including the money.”
“For God’s sake, do you really think if I took the money I’d be stupid enough to just dump it in a bank account anybody could check up on?”
“I don’t know, Logan. Maybe you are that stupid. Or maybe you’ve been dipping into the product, and it’s fried your brain.”
Shock slammed through Logan, and he leaped to his feet. The chair he’d been in hit the floor with a crash.
“You think I’m using? It’s not enough you believe I’m on the take, now you think I’m a junkie, a crackhead?”
“You had access, your actions became questionable…it makes sense.”
Logan swore, low and harsh, and his fists clenched. “I don’t believe this. I don’t believe you.”
Harkin lifted a brow, his expression showing that same trace of superiority his voice had earlier. “Can’t believe you’re not the big hero anymore? You’d better believe it, Beck. You’re already buried, you just don’t know it yet. Cops like you give the rest of us a bad name.”
Logan consciously relaxed his hands. He gave up battling the chill he’d been fighting since Harkin and his cohorts had shown up at his undercover apartment. He let it envelop him, cooling his anger. When he spoke, his voice was flat, emotionless.
“Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet,” Harkin admitted, obviously grudgingly.
“Then get the hell out of my way,” Logan said, and pushed past him toward the door.
“Don’t even think about running, Beck.”
He turned on his heel to look back at the man. A sour taste rose in his throat. “Why not? Then you could just shoot me and be done with it. Maybe in the back.”
“Just doing my job,” Harkin said, and the smirk that crossed his face then told Logan he’d fallen for the bait, done exactly what the man had wanted.
Logan spun back around and continued out the door. He resisted, with no small effort, the urge to slam it shut behind him. Instead he closed it quietly, walked quickly around the corner to the elevators, jammed the call button, then slumped against the wall, feeling utterly exhausted. He shoved a hand through his tangled hair, the length reminding him yet again of what he’d lost in the last seventy-two hours. His case, nearly a year of his life, quite probably his job and possibly even his freedom. His fingers pushed down on his scalp, wishing he could ease the sensation of the top of his head wanting to blow off.
The elevator door slid open, and he was grateful to see it was empty. He’d had enough of the sideways looks, the glances rife with either suspicion or pity, coming from people he’d once considered his family, the ones he’d thought had his back, as he would have had theirs, no questions asked.
He stepped into the elevator, let the door slide shut after him, but didn’t reach for the control panel. He told himself he was panicking, but he couldn’t quite stop the thought that his career as a cop, the one thing he’d aspired to his entire life, was over. He’d never really wanted anything else. His view of the job had changed, he’d learned it wasn’t quite the pillar of justice and fairness he’d imagined as a kid, but it was still the only thing he wanted to do. He’d dedicated his life to it, at the cost of almost everything else. He’d done his best, had been proud of his accomplishments but never given up the drive to do better, do more, help more of the good people, put more bad guys away.
And now it was he who was likely going to be put away.
He suppressed a shudder and wondered what the current life expectancy was of a cop who went to prison. But at least in prison, he’d know who to trust—nobody. And he couldn’t help thinking that that might be easier than finding out he couldn’t trust those he’d thought he could count on. He was on his own, and sinking fast.
Chapter 2
When they finished the tour of R & D, and with a promise of a complete tour of Redstone Headquarters later, Lilith asked Liana to join her in her office.
“We have a big job,” the woman said as she leaned against the edge of her desk and gestured Liana into a chair. “Stan Chilton left a lot of chaos behind him, after we caught him selling out Ian’s work. Ian himself is only now getting back to where he’d been when Chilton tried to destroy everything he’d done.”
“How certain are you that you’ve isolated the damage?”
“Fairly,” Lilith said. “But we’ll also need to check the project data that wasn’t tampered with anyway. After we’ve finished the more urgent tracking.”
Liana thought for a moment. “Do we know that the explosive-sensing material is the only thing Chilton sold?”
Lilith smiled, Liana guessed at her use of the word “we.” And she realized that Josh’s reaction to her concern about Logan Beck had cemented her perception of Redstone as indeed a family, and she already felt like a member.
“That’s one of the things we need to confirm,” Lilith said. “I’ve done the preliminary checking of our files,
