Cover Up (24 page)

“I told Parker everything.”

“Everything? Ivan, what the hell?”

“I believe he’s not the guy I’m after, and I just needed to.” Ivan drummed the fingers of his left hand against the rough brick. The muscles in his jaw flexed.

“Okay, okay. We’ll work this out. Can you wait until tomorrow? Simon’s out of town, and I’m still out on medical leave.”

The tapping got a little faster, enough to scrape the pads of his fingers. “Sunday?” He could manage to keep it together one more day; he could endure the alternately wounded and accusing looks from Parker.

“You have to help me, Kurt. I found evidence to suggest there’s a substantial grow-op in cottage country, but it’s not Parker’s. I’m sure of it. I can’t let Parker go to jail.” His voice cracked, and he coughed to try and cover it up, but the gasp on the other end told him he was unsuccessful.

“Don’t worry. We’ll work it all out, I promise.”

Ivan snorted. That was a promise no one could make; he’d been a cop too long. But he took it in the spirit it was intended. “I’m sorry, man. I hate to drop this on you.”

“No. Don’t be sorry. We’re friends. That’s what I’m here for.”

Ivan dropped his forehead to the brick, shuddering. He didn’t deserve a friend like Kurt, but he’d take whatever he could get.

“Thanks.”

“Hang tight. I’ll let Simon know.”

Ivan disconnected the call and reentered Parker’s home. Maybe he could get Rick or Kurt to help him pack up his stuff after this was all over.

“Everything okay?” Parker was in the kitchen cleaning up the remains of breakfast. One of the sweetest mornings he’d ever had and all he’d have was a tainted memory.

“Yeah. We’ll go into headquarters tomorrow.” Problem was, now that everything was in the open, they were more exposed than ever. Maybe they weren’t truly, but that’s how it felt. Vulnerable. Like there was a neon sign outside proclaiming not only their suspicions but also how much money sat inside, unguarded by any traditional weapons. They could go to a hotel, but there was no guarantee he could keep Parker any safer there, and he might put a lot more innocent people at risk if Razhin’s men came looking for the money before he got it to Simon.

“On a Sunday?”

“Yeah. My… liaison will be available, and even though policing is a 24/7 operation, Sundays are generally slower. We’ll have a better chance of sorting this out, getting you proper protection.” The more people who knew Parker was innocent, the less likely the departmental leak would be a danger to him.

“So, what do we do today? I… I suggested going to the market. Um, earlier. Before, you know.” Parker directed his gaze toward the ceiling and sniffed.

God. He wanted to do that. Badly. Normal activities with Parker were a soothing balm to his tortured thoughts.

“We could still do that.” Pretending that everything was okay wouldn’t be easy, but it would kill a few hours. Although the exposure at the market might increase his sense of vulnerability, it would also be easier to evade any pursuers.

“No, we can’t.” Parker turned on him, fire in his eyes. “Maybe you’re good at acting, but I’m not. And by the way, how do I even know you’re a cop? You certainly haven’t shown me any identification. For all I know, you’re the one trying to set me up. Or maybe you’re some sort of stalker.”

The words and tone were like a punch. He’d expected anger and for Parker to hate him, but he hadn’t thought it would happen so fast. “First off, if you’re in a situation where you think you’ve got a crazy stalker, for God’s sake, don’t let him get you alone, and don’t confront him. Second, I can take you to a colleague, if I need to. I don’t carry ID with me undercover, but he’s got some, and he can vouch for me.”

Parker’s eyes widened, but he made no move to escape. Good. Somewhere deep inside, he knew Ivan wasn’t that guy.

“Finally, you said you thought there was a couple thousand dollars upstairs, right?”

He waited expectantly, and when Parker nodded, he continued. “So then, if that money were mine, or if I was trying to set you up, it wouldn’t be in my best interests for you to know there’s a hell of lot more than that up there.”

A frown creased Parker’s brow. “How much money is there?”

“Around a quarter of a mill.”

“A quarter of a million? Dollars? No fucking way. I don’t believe you.”

“You’ve got a dangerous amount of cash in your file box.”

“No. That’s insane.” Parker stood and ran toward the stairs. Ivan followed right on his heels.

Up in the master bedroom, Parker yanked the file box out of the closet and threw it on the bed. When he pulled out a bundle, Ivan smacked it out of his hands.

“I’ll prove to you how much is there, but in case the techs can get fingerprints off this, I don’t want yours all over it. Be much harder to prove you’re innocent if you’ve fucking touched every bill.”

Ivan counted the bills in one bundle. A choking sound from Parker made him look up. Face ashy and pale, Parker stared at the brown hundred-dollar bills Ivan had separated from the twenties on either end.

“I thought they were all twenties.”

“You were meant to think that.” The colors weren’t that different, and each bundle had been carefully arranged so that the only twenties bookended the hundreds. “But even if they were all twenties, that’s still around forty thousand. Didn’t you notice how heavy this was? One bill equals approximately one gram. This much money probably weighs close to five pounds.”

“I… no. And I never took all the money out. It, uh, freaked me out.”

“Good. It should freak you out. I’ve seen people killed over a couple hundred dollars, but this much money ups the ante considerably.”

“Shit, Ivan, I—”

Whatever Parker had been going to say was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. With a weird sheepish expression, he answered.

“Hey.” Parker was silent for a moment before he frowned. “Neil?”

Parker listened, his frown deepening. Until he dropped the phone, like it bit him. The phone skittered under the bed, and Ivan dove down to retrieve it. The call had been disconnected.

“What? What was it?”

“He knew.” Parker stumbled back against the dresser and covered his eyes with a trembling hand.

“Knew what?” Ivan hadn’t been freaked out until Parker demonstrated clear signs of fear. “Parker?”

Ivan waited while Parker scrubbed at his face. He looked up, riverbed eyes pleading for Ivan to make everything better. If he could he would.

“Neil butt dialed me. I think it’s his money. He was talking to someone else, and he knew about the money, before I told him about it.”

“Neil. Okay, that makes sense. He’s got easy access to your stuff and…. Wait. You told him about it? When?”

Parker’s gaze darted away, and pink highlighted his sharp, sharp cheekbones. “While you were out on the porch making your phone call.”

“Why?”

“Why the fuck do you think? Asshole. I was freaked out, okay? And mad at you. Neil’s my best friend, and he helped me through some of the worst times of my life. I hoped he’d help me through this.” Parker’s eyes got shiny, and Ivan wanted to kick himself.

This morning had definitely not gone as either of them would have liked. He couldn’t exactly fault Parker for asking his oldest friend for advice, especially when Ivan hadn’t really clued in to the fact that after Parker, Neil was the most likely suspect. He wasn’t sure if it was lack of sleep or jealousy over Parker that clouded his mind to that now obvious detail, but this was one more reminder that he had fucked up royally from day one. Parker was pissed at him, might never want to speak to him after this was all over, and Ivan couldn’t blame him, even though the Parker-shaped hole in his life would be more devastating than Colin’s departure.

“Did you tell him I was a cop?” Had he been investigating the wrong man all along?

Parker’s lips thinned as he pressed them together, but he nodded.

There was no time to acknowledge the fear and worry that simple action caused. “Have you got a duffle bag or something? Backpack? We’ve got to get this out of the house and someplace safe.”

Ivan flipped on the light in the closet and scanned quickly for something that might work. He couldn’t leave this evidence here.

“Where are you taking it?”

“I don’t know yet. But this might be the only chance of proving you’re being framed. We can’t let Neil get his hands on it.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t… I don’t know how to deal with this. You’ve both lied to me, and yet, I’m somehow trusting you, not the guy I’ve known for years.”

Jeez, he couldn’t have Parker back out now. Prison would be hell for him, and if Neil had anything to do with the evidence in the file box, there’s no way he cared if Parker took the fall. “Look, we’ll take it to Kurt or Simon. Someone who can prove they’re cops. Will you believe me then?”

Parker lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Do you think… Neil’s coming for this?” He waved a hand.

“Yes, I do.” There was no point in telling Parker he’d started a countdown clock in his mind, calculating how long it had been since Parker outed him to Neil. Shitty-ass cop that he was, he didn’t even know where Neil lived, so he didn’t know how long it would take him to get here from his apartment. As soon as Parker and the money were somewhere safe, he’d find out. Hopefully the money would be enough to tie Neil to something so he could arrest the fucker. Or get someone not on leave to arrest the fucker.

“I think I’ve got an extra-large backpack in one of these boxes.” Ivan sensed Parker moving away, but he continued to rummage through the closet in search of a bag.

“Where’s your car? Near here?”

“Not really. I rent garage space, but it’s like, a couple subway stops away.”

Shit. He’d take the box as is, but a bag would be easier to transport on public transit.

“I wonder what he’s doing here?” At the words, Ivan glanced up. Parker stood by the window, looking out. Abandoning his search for a bag, Ivan strode to the window. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the neighbor’s house was the guy Neil had sucked off at the party. He had a buddy with him, and they were standing beside a large black SUV like they were waiting for someone, but their hyper-alertness was plain to see.

“Do you know those guys?”

“They’re friends of Neil’s. They were here last night. But I don’t know them.”

The one Ivan recognized in profile turned and faced the house, and Ivan realized he recognized him from more than the night before when Neil had been servicing him beside the house. Razhin’s son.

“We gotta get out of here.” Ivan upended two boxes before he found the backpack Parker mentioned.

“Yeah, you said.”

Ivan tipped the contents of the file box into the backpack, and Parker squawked in protest.

“We have to leave now.”

“Why? And that took hours to file. What the hell?”

“Those guys out there… well, one of them is Leo, Razhin’s son, and both of them have guns.” The distinctive bulges under jackets too warm for the summer told the story in an instant.

“Guns? Are you sure?” Parker bent closer to the window, and Ivan yanked him back.

“Are you trying to get shot?”

“I just can’t believe this. Maybe you’re not a cop. Maybe you’re insane.”

“Parker, you can’t fucking deny the money and that Neil knew about it. And it’s too damn hot out for those jackets.”

The last tiny bit of defiance fled, and Ivan was almost sad to see it go. Betrayal. This wasn’t the same as finding Colin in bed with someone else, but it had to be similar.

“Look.” Ivan kept Parker’s head near the edge of the window as Leo shifted his jacket, revealing the black handgrip of a gun. “Did you see that?”

“Oh my fucking God.” Parker wheezed a bit as he tried to control the volume of his voice. “Don’t you have a gun?”

“No, I don’t have a gun. This isn’t the movies. I’m on leave, and I’m undercover as an insurance salesman. Even if I had one, I can’t have a shoot-out on a residential street.” His heart pounded, and his breathing accelerated, the scenes from his last shootout as vivid as they’d only been in his nightmares. A quick glance out the window confirmed the two men were approaching. They weren’t walking quickly enough to make anyone look twice, but they moved with a purpose Ivan couldn’t mistake. He clenched his fingers into a tight fist, hoping to hide the tremor.

“What do we do?”

Ivan ran to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and fixed the door to lock behind him before running back into the bedroom and shutting the door. He slung the backpack over his shoulders and pressed Parker against the wall. It was unlikely the men, even should they look up, would be able to see them through the window, but he didn’t want to take any chances. There was only one way to avoid a bullet in the back, and it would require stealth and timing. He had to hope he could make up for a lack of those on Parker’s part.

“You move when I say, got it?”

Parker nodded but looked confused.

“We’re going to go out the window and get the fuck out of here.”

“Out of the window?” Parker wriggled against him. “I can’t do that.”

Ivan leaned back for a moment to look directly into Parker’s eyes. “You must. It’s the only way.” They were trapped up here like cats in a tree. He’d rather go out the back, but there wasn’t even a porch roof to help them down.

Another quick nod and a heavy swallow answered him. Reaching out, he curled the fingers of his good hand under the windowsill and waited. No knock or doorbell preceded the thunk of the men trying to open the door, and Ivan used the sound to cover him pushing the window up.

“Out,” he whispered. Parker paled but did as instructed. Ivan followed, the pack pulling him a little off-balance. They moved quickly to the corner because Ivan hoped to use the foliage and lack of windows on that side to hide their departure. Parker paled further as he looked over the edge of the porch roof. Ivan calculated the risk. The sounds of careless men in the house grew louder. They had mere minutes to get out of sight. Ivan tossed the bag into the bushes to cushion its fall and shimmied down the porch support.