Broken (39 page)

The older man was salivating.

Berg would be fired, and O’Loughlin—who had clearly known about a detective in his precinct with a substance abuse problem and done nothing—would finally be seen as the pathetic and ineffectual leader that he was. Consiglio would be reinstated as chief of detectives, and his first order of business would be to appoint Arena captain of the 12th.

Job done—karmic retribution carried out.

Arena felt a pang of guilt for a moment before shrugging it off. He swore and turned up the air conditioning, sweltering in the summer heat. He’d much rather be swimming down at the lake with a couple of bikini-clad hotties than following an ex and sticking to his seat.

He hoped the recon would pan out and the whole situation would soon be over. Even if it didn’t, he had a lovely file building on Berg detailing her every indiscretion—including the latest illegal surveillance of the Youngs’ home.

Consiglio was pleased with the development, promising him immunity for his involvement in any wrongdoing, but he still wanted more. The disgruntled ex-chief was determined to force the CPD’s hand and the big, public bust in front of the media was the only way to do it. He wouldn’t stop until he got it.

All of the tailing, surveillance, and file building in the world failed to explain what Berg hoped to achieve by following Elizabeth every evening, though. Unless the lunatic made an attempt on the baby’s life in broad daylight, it was an utterly pointless exercise.

Soon enough, Elizabeth finished her three-mile run and headed back toward her new home.

Berg peeled off, heading in the direction of her own apartment, and he followed as she weaved through the traffic like she had her eyes half closed and screeched into her parking garage.

Driving away, he dialed Consiglio.

“Hey, can we talk for a sec?” Jay asked Berg, indicating she should follow.

Berg stood and felt Arena’s gaze burning into her back as they wandered into Jay’s office and closed the door behind them.

“Your board hearing is in two weeks. Has Malloy been in contact?”

“Yep, sure.”

She had actually been dodging the stodgy lawyer’s calls. It wasn’t his fault. The union-appointed lawyer had been very supportive the previous year the first time Consiglio had brought her up on charges, but she didn’t need his services this time. The entire situation would be irrelevant in a few days anyway.

Jay looked relieved. “Okay, great. So you’re all good?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will all be fine.”

But Berg knew he was lying. This was her second board hearing in a year. Even if she had planned to attend, if she managed to walk out of there with her job, she’d be shocked to shit.

“Yep, sure,” Berg said again. “It’s totally fine.”

Jay narrowed his eyes. “Why are you agreeing with me so easily? The last time you went before the board you were emotionally and physically wrecked. I remember having to literally drag you out of your house to face them.”

Berg sighed as her gaze drifted out the windows to watch the office antics on the other side of the glass.

“Berg? Are you okay? You seem . . . distracted.” He frowned. “Is everything all right with Arena and . . . the baby?” He glanced out at Arena studiously ignoring Jay’s office as he went through case files on Berg’s desk.

“Everything’s great.”

“I don’t believe a fucking word you are saying. You’re staying away from the Youngs, right? Doing everything above board?”

“Don’t worry,” Berg muttered. “I know what I have to do.”

Arena watched Berg stand up from Jay’s office chair slowly and head to the door, and he crammed the file back into the pile on Berg’s desk, his head spinning at the implications of what he had just seen.

What the fuck?

While snooping, he had found what was obviously a newly updated last will and testament. He gave it a cursory glance until he caught sight of the high six figures that Berg had just inherited from her mother’s estate.

On the surface, Berg updating her will wasn’t suspicious. She’d just inherited a substantial amount of money and was going to be a mother soon. It made sense that she’d want to ensure the welfare of that child if she was incapacitated or killed in the line of duty. The problem? There was no mention of any minor children in the new will. Plus, she’d added a paragraph detailing donations of her inheritance, via her lawyer, if she died prior to distributing them all herself.

Why would she die before the donations were carried out?

She had also given a large sum of money to her mother’s nurse, Helen, which was understandable had the woman not been old enough to have given birth to God. The chances of her outliving Berg were negligible. He had checked twice—Berg’s loopy signature at the bottom of the document was clear. There was no mistake.

Arena felt uneasy. In fact, this entire situation made him uneasy.

You sure she deserves this?

He frowned and stared at his computer pretending he was lost in casework while he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

Chapter Forty

It’s the same dream,

it goes on and on and on and on.

But this is where it ends.

This is the collapse.

–Kill Hannah, “The Collapse”

T
his was the third night Berg had checked Elizabeth Young’s route on her run around the suburban streets and, despite the celebrity trainer she had boasted about, it was clear she liked to run alone—always at six in the evening and always along the same route.

Elizabeth had to be the only paralegal on earth who ever finished work that early. Combined with all the spokesperson work she had been doing, Elizabeth was hardly ever in the office. Given her reputation, however, perhaps no one objected.

Berg pulled out from her parking spot and drove around the corner, parking behind another car, and waited for Elizabeth to run by the high school near her home. She knew the woman’s route by heart and had no need to keep overly close.

A wave of nausea struck, but she ignored it until it slowly subsided.

Berg blinked to clear her suddenly blurry vision and watched as Elizabeth passed the school right on time.

Ignoring the lick of pain that shot through her belly at the slightest movement, she pulled out and checked to make sure her shadow was still with her as she headed toward her apartment.

Arena may have had some talents—most of them in the sack—but surveillance wasn’t one of them.

She drove carelessly, slowing when Arena lost her so he could catch up. She could’ve ditched him at any time, but his being a traitor actually worked to her advantage.

Berg wondered if he had figured out what she was doing yet, or if she was going to have to send him a singing telegram.

She had been suspicious for a while. His cloak and dagger routine every time his phone rang. The hair sample she was pretty sure he’d taken after Jay’s slip about her recovery. Her carefully placed belongings being moved. She had started making notes of the numbers dialed and calling when he had left his phone unattended. Sure enough, Arena always dialed one number in particular when she was out of the room. The same number he had refused to answer in her presence. So she had called it, fully expecting to find he had been seeing someone on the side.

Consiglio had answered.

When Jay told her that Consiglio was making a move to depose them both, it had all fallen into place. Arena was helping him get his old job back and no doubt helping himself to a decent promotion at the same time. She had noticed more signs since then and, for the last two weeks, a persistent tail.

She had written her discoveries in a letter to Jay and was going to post it to his home the next day so he was prepared for the shitstorm coming when her plans came to fruition. She didn’t want him blindsided by Arena and Consiglio. She had also apologized for the mess she had made of things and thanked him for loving her, even if it had only been for one night.

While she had been, and still was, using Arena, she had planned to make amends with him, too. He would feel enough like shit when it all went down; his bravado was all a façade.

It was getting close, and she was glad.

Jesse was already at Vi’s. The legalities were all in place; she just had a few final details to work out, including some not-so-legal breaking and entering, and it would be all set.

Two birds, one gun.

Berg tidied her desk for the final time, ensuring there were no personal items on the blotter or in the drawers. All her case reports were completed, filed, and all her notes regarding her cases were accessible.

Sweat beaded and dripped down onto her desk.

Jesus! Who turned the air down?

Arena wandered in, glared at her, and wandered off to the break room.

“Hey, Arena,” Berg called out, jogging to catch up with him. “Can we talk for a second?” The ridiculously short jog left her heart pounding and her head whirled for a moment.

Arena turned around and eyed her warily. “What about?” he asked folding his arms.

“I just wanted to . . . to apologize to you,” she said and as she watched the hope flare in his eyes. Even knowing he was trying to get her fired, she felt a stab of guilt. The realization only confirmed her decision was the right one. “I feel awful for what happened between us, and I want you to know that I really hope you find someone who’ll make you happy.” She watched the hope flicker and die.

“Whatever,” he said, moving to walk away.

Berg grabbed his arm. “Arena, no.” She twisted and turned until he looked her straight in the eyes. “I really regret it. You were nothing but kind to me and I fucked it up. I’m so sorry. I hope, in time, you will forgive me.”

His expression had
not likely
written all over it.

“You’re an amazing man—really amazing,” she said sincerely. “If I wasn’t already . . .”

She didn’t say it, but Arena frowned and shook his head. “Fucking O’Loughlin,” he muttered. “Why does it always come back to him?”

Berg didn’t know how to answer. “Anyway, it wasn’t your fault that things didn’t work out and I wanted you to know that.”