“If I’d known our agenda, I’d be armed, too.”

I glanced at him, then shook my head. I should have assumed he’d have a weapon somewhere. “No time to get it now. And we’re starting this party like it’s just a regular business day. Okay?”

“I know what to do,” Tyler said.

There was a buzzer on the front door of the warehouse, and Tyler pressed it, and I was relieved when Big Charley himself answered the intercom. I’d expected to have to deal with staff. But maybe we’d gotten lucky.

“Hey, Charley, it’s Tyler Sharp. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Yeah? What kind?”

“The kind I don’t want to discuss by shouting in an intercom. Buzz me in.”

There was a pause, then the door clicked open. We entered a warehouse that resembled a maze constructed of vending machines. Tyler’d been here before, though, and he led us through to the far corner and a dingy office with a cheap wooden door.

Inside, Big Charley sat behind a cheap wooden desk. I caught Tyler’s eye, hoping he could read my mind. I wanted Charley out from behind that desk, because who knew what he had mounted under there.

Tyler took a seat on the ratty sofa, then pulled out his phone. “Got a new gig we’re working,” he said, tapping at the phone. “Come here. I’ve got some photos and specs. Should be lucrative.”

Charley narrowed his eyes and looked at me.

“She’s cool,” Tyler said. “Won’t say a word. Will you, baby?”

“No, sir.”

Charley’s brows rose and he joined Tyler on the couch. “Okay, what do you have?”

“Amy Dawson. Emily Bennett,” I said, watching his face. “It’s not about what we have, but about what you do.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he said, but I’d already seen the truth on his face.

“Where, goddammit?” I said, and this time I aimed the Glock at his chest. “Where are they?”

“I told you, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I’ll look for keys. Something,” Tyler said, going to his desk. And then, “No keys, but this is interesting.” He raised a 9mm Beretta, then walked over to me.

“Tyler …”

“You know, Charley. This all feels very personal to me. And I think I can be much more persuasive than the lady.”

“Fuck. You.”

“I thought you might say that,” Tyler said, then shot the bastard in the kneecap, making my ears ring.

“Where?” Tyler asked, sounding as though he was at the end of the tunnel. “Tell me now or lose the other.”

“Vault,” Charley said. “Far side of the warehouse.”

“Bring him,” I said to Tyler, as I started toward the door. “It’s probably padlocked.”

Tyler hauled Charley into the rolling desk chair, and we raced across the warehouse, the sick fuck crying and moaning about how much he hurt.

“Yeah, I’m guessing Emily Bennett didn’t feel so good, either. And if Amy is dead, you are going to never feel right again.”

We reached the vault door and, sure enough, it was locked with a heavy duty combination lock. Tyler and his new Beretta managed to persuade the combination out of Charley.

We yanked open the door. “Amy! Amy, it’s Sloane,” I called. I went in low, just in case, but I didn’t really think anyone else was there. This wasn’t a trafficking operation. This was just one perverted bastard.

“Sloane?”

I barely heard it, what with her weak voice and my still-ringing ears. But I did, and I raced across the small room to find her shoved into a dog crate hidden under a moving blanket.

While Tyler checked the rest of the room to make sure there were no other girls, I opened the crate. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s over now. You’re safe.”

I put the furniture blanket around her, keeping her warm from the shock, and watched as she crawled back into a corner, as far away from Big Charley as she could get.

“What’s this fucker’s last name?” I asked Tyler.

“Dodd.”

“Charles Dodd, you’re under arrest for the murder of Emily Bennett and the attempted murder of Amy Dawson. You have the right to remain silent,” I began, then finished Mirandizing him. I wasn’t Chicago PD. But right then, I figured I’d do.

“You ain’t gonna arrest me,” Charley said.

“Seems to me I already did.”

“Not if you’re with him. Because I’ve got a lot of paperwork on him and his buddies. Lots of documentation. I’m careful that way. Careful to keep records. Make notes. I write down everything. And I’m a very sharing kind of guy.”

My stomach turned over, and I felt bile rise in my throat. I knew how this would go down. Charley was a murderer, but he’d cut a deal. Because the knights were a much bigger and flashier feather in the cap of the local PD and FBI office. Charley would maybe get sentenced to a dime, get out in three. And the knights would end up in a minimum security facility for the rest of their lives.

Shit. Shit, fuck, damn.

“Oh, yeah. The lady knows what I’m saying,” Charley sang.

There was, however, one way out.

I lifted the Glock. I’d done it with Grier, and this guy was at least as bad. I could do it. Take him out, and save Tyler the way I couldn’t save my mother.

I started to depress the trigger, stopping only when Tyler very firmly said, “No.”

“It’s the only option. He’s right. You’ll do time. All of you.”

“We’ve always known that was a risk,” Tyler said. “I don’t like to lose, but the possibility is inherent in the game. That’s part of the thrill.”

I felt the tears streak my cheeks. “Let me do this. Let me do this so you can stay with me.”

“And destroy you in the process? Do you think I don’t know how much Grier cost you? I’m not letting you add to that. Sloane,” he said gently. “Put the gun down. Call the cops. Whatever happens, happens.”

Slowly, I lowered the gun. And I knew in that moment that I would never love anyone more than I loved this incredibly brave man.

“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m saying,” Big Charley said. “This way’s good, isn’t it, Amy-doll. She’s one of my favorites, and I’ve had so many. So pretty, and then they get thin and they’re just for me. I let them eat off my boots. Lick them clean. Let them suck me off if they’re really good. I don’t fuck them—don’t do that. But I’ve got to keep them under control. Make them supple. Make them touch themselves for me. And if they don’t come, well, they don’t get food. They just get thinner and thinner.”

He droned on, and I wasn’t sure if it was blood loss or if he believed so firmly that he’d get off easy or if he was just plain crazy. All I knew was that I couldn’t take it. All those girls. All that torture.

Amy.

And the thought that he might be out on the street again in thirty-six months. Maybe even less.

My finger twitched on the trigger. I met Tyler’s eyes, then looked at Charley.

I have to. This time, it really will be justice.

I didn’t wait to see if he understood. I just lifted my gun and then, knowing that I was perfectly justified, I blew the devil back to hell.

The paramedics assured us that Amy would be fine, then whisked her off to the hospital. Tyler and I were separated, each giving a statement to a different detective. I didn’t know how this would shake down, but I wasn’t too worried. Tyler had found another gun in Charley’s office, and after firing off a round in the vault, he’d given it to the dead man, making what happened look remarkably like self-defense.

When the cops were finished with us, I went to Tyler, who was waiting for me in the warehouse. I fell into his arms, and we sank to the floor, leaning against a Coke machine. “I love you,” I said, then kissed him.

He rose, and held out a hand for me. “Come on, Detective. Let’s go home.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Stay.”

We were in Grant Park, walking among the Agora, and I felt as lost as they were.