Chapter 22

"I have always felt a gift diamond shines so much better than one you buy for yourself!"

–Mae West

Rayne

At Randy's request, I took the rest of the day off. I spent most of those first hours at home in bed, after I'd showered the dried blood and dirt off.

I woke sometime before dinnertime, made myself some macaroni and cheese, and ate it on the sofa catching up on my shows. I kept checking my phone, looking for messages from Jameson.

Somehow, I felt like a fool for trying to get his stuff back and peg the death of Mason on his attackers. Had I known they were the Dupont brothers, I would have never tried to look for them.

The Dupont family was untouchable in Madison County. Everyone in all of Louisiana knew that. Even if their father hadn't become sheriff, the family had run the county for decades.

Just before I crawled into bed, I sent a text to Jameson, knowing he wouldn't respond before morning.

To my surprise, he replied quickly.

"I finished that last chapter in the book I was reading."

I frowned down at the message and just as I was going to respond, asking him what he was talking about, my heart sank.

Last chapter. He was about to make his move. Which meant he was closing his case.

"Good," I responded. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Will you be starting the next book soon?"

This response took a little longer.

"I'm going to wait a while. Maybe watch a few movies or get lost in a show."

I smiled at that. I wanted to say more but knew we better not chance it.

"Night."

"Night." I fell asleep thinking about our future. Somehow, my rest wasn't as peaceful as I'd expected. My dreams were filled with dark shadows and time speeding by too fast as I tried to accomplish simple tasks.

I woke to my phone ringing. Seeing Randy and Edith's face on the screen, I sat up and answered as I glanced at the clock.

"What's wrong?" I said, after seeing that it was a quarter past five in the morning. "Mom?"

"Is at home resting peacefully," Randy said. "I need you in the office at six sharp."

"Okay." I settled back on my bed. I usually got to the office around eight.

"We've got a big meeting. All hands are needed on deck." His voice sounded strained. I understood instantly. Jameson had either made his move in the night or was about to.

"I'll shower, get ready, and head in now," I said, standing up.

"See you then." He hung up.

As I walked into the precinct, my nerves were jangling. I wanted a large cup of coffee but figured I didn't need the caffeine. Randy was busy in his office on the phone and didn't even look up when I strolled by and headed straight to my own office.

Sure enough, by six o'clock sharp, every cop and employee on the payroll was in the office. More than a hundred people crowded into the bullpen.

Sherry's voice came on over the loudspeaker, which had only been used a half dozen times in the past five years.

"We need everyone to gather in the bullpen," Sherry said quickly. Then the speaker clicked off.

I stood up, took a deep breath, and stepped out of my office. If I hadn't looked around the room at every single person, I would have missed him. Jameson and a few other men I didn't know were standing in the hallway, dressed in black, and I froze in place.

"Thanks," Randy said, getting everyone's attention.

No one else in the room seemed to notice the extra dozen or so bodies circling the room.

"At approximately oh-nineteen hundred last night, Bobby and Earl Dupont's bodies were found floating in the Red River by some fishermen." Several people gasped. Those who didn't know who the brothers were remained silent. My heart practically stopped beating as my eyes moved to Jameson, who was staring straight ahead.

Was Jameson here because Randy believed he had something to do with their deaths?

"Both men had been stabbed to death, their faces slashed beyond recognition." Randy's eyes moved to me and my heart jumped for another reason.

Sharon Taylor.

Was Randy trying to tell me that the Dupont brothers' deaths were connected? Why hadn't I been called in on this sooner?

Most of the Red River ran through my district. Still, if they had been found in Madison County, then I wouldn't have been called.

So many questions ran through my head.

"Technically their bodies weren't found in our district, but we've been asked to lend a hand on this one. Rayne, you'll be taking the lead," Randy said to me, gaining my full attention again.

I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Why call us all in for that?" someone complained.

Randy held up his hand to stop all the voices. "Quiet," he said, and the room went silent again.

I glanced around and realized why. There were now more than a dozen new people surrounding our group. Randy had been stalling until Jameson and his men were in place. Which meant someone in the room was dirty. The rat. I glanced around quickly. My eyes landed on Abe a few feet away from me. To Quincy, whose desk I was standing by and who was less than five feet from me.

My entire body tensed, ready for whatever came next.

"As some of you may notice, there are a few extra faces in the room." Suddenly, everyone looked around and all at once noticed Jameson and his team.

"What is this?" someone asked.

"I was asked to allow these agents access to every employee's and officer's desk, locker, and computer." The room exploded with questions and people shouting. Once more Randy held up his hands and then shouted for everyone to be quiet. "They finished their search around one this morning." Randy nodded toward Jameson.

I turned and for a split second his eyes landed on me. Then he started to move forward, walking quickly right at me. My heart skipped. Sank.

I'd been looking at him and hadn't realized why he was heading towards me. I hadn't felt the strong arms wrap around my body and pull me back a step. The first thing I did feel was a weapon against my temple.

"This is bullshit," Quincy shouted.

It was then that I realized Jameson hadn't been watching me. His eyes had been on Quincy Ingram. My ex-boyfriend. The man I'd slept with more than a handful of times last year. Someone I'd let into my life was now holding a gun to my head so that he could, what? Escape being arrested? For what? Sharon Taylor and the Dupont brothers' deaths? Oh god. Did Quincy have anything to do with their murders or was this about something else? The drugs?

Jameson glanced over his shoulder as everyone else in the room screamed and rushed around.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as several agents grabbed Clara and slapped handcuffs on her. She screamed and fought back. Several more people were grabbed and handcuffed as they scattered, including Abe Sterling.

I closed my eyes for what felt like only a moment, but somehow there were only a handful of people left in the room with us. Quincy and I stood in the middle, the gun pressed tightly against my temple.

Jameson stood a few feet away, staring at us without moving. Randy stood to the left of us, frozen in fear. Two more agents stood off to the side. Everyone else had been ushered out of the room.

"You don't want to do this," I said to Quincy.

"Shut up, Rayne," Quincy hissed in my ear. "You don't know anything."

"I know everything," Jameson said smoothly. I could hear the fear behind his tone. "I know that you've been working with the Reapers. You, Abe, and a few others that you persuaded to join in your little side hustle. I know you killed Sharon Taylor, who was working with the FBI to rat you out about all the missing funds you and she had siphoned off to fund your little escapades. Her death killed their case since there was nothing linking the two of you together. Until we searched your computer and found photos. It seems like you were one of her favorite boy toys," Jameson said.

Quincy's arm jerked, and his hold on my arms tightened.

"You've got it wrong," Quincy screamed, his eyes moving around the room as more agents slowly crept in. "I didn't do this," Quincy whispered in my ear. "Sure, Sharon and I… had fun. But I had fun with lot of other women in town too. Including…" He jerked me slightly.

"At one point, sure, we had fun. Now you're holding a gun to my head." I tried to hide the fear in my voice. My palms were so sweaty I doubted I could ball my hands into a fist.

Suddenly Quincy grew quiet as Jameson moved closer. His voice was barely a low growl. "If you harm one hair on her head, I'll make sure you are shoved in the darkest hole imaginable and never come out again."

I felt Quincy jerk once and then I felt the gun disappear from my temple. "I didn't do this, Rayne." The sound of the gun firing knocked me sideways. My ears screamed and I couldn't hear any other sounds. I felt the blood splatter on my hair, and my shirt as I fell onto my hands and knees.

Then strong arms lifted me and carried me as muffled voices cried out. Someone was screaming.

"Rayne," Jameson said over and over.

"Sweetie." Randy's voice finally broke into my mind and suddenly I realized I was the one screaming.

"Daddy?" I cried and blinked the tears from my eyes. He was there, hovering over me, next to Jameson.

"We're here," Randy said softly. "You're okay."

"Do you have her?" Jameson asked Randy, who nodded.

"Go, do what you have to."

Jameson leaned down, an inch from my lips. "I love you," he said, then he pressed his lips to mine for a second before quickly disappearing.

I wanted to tell him I loved him too, but he was gone so quickly.

"What?" I asked Randy, blinking a few times. "What happened?"

"Quincy took his own life," Randy said, sitting next to me. I looked around and realized we were on the sofa in his office.

"Why?" I shook my head.

"The DEA has been working through the night. They've arrested Wyatt Taylor, his girlfriend, Clara, Abe, and Laura Kinney. Five dirty cops and employees under my watch." Randy shook his head.

I sat up slightly, feeling something sticky in my hair and running down my back. I didn't want to think what it was. A shiver raced over my body.

"I… can I shower?" I asked after a moment of composing myself and trying not to vomit.

"Yeah." Randy's eyes moved over me. "I thought we were going to lose you."

I watched tears fill his eyes. "I want to hug you right now, but…" I held up my hands and shivered again. "I'm trying not to think about what is on me."

Randy sighed. "Quincy was… for a while, I thought he was good for you."

"Me too," I said, taking his hand.

"Go shower in the locker room. I'll be here"—he shook his head—"dealing with things."

I walked very stiffly towards the locker room. I kept my eyes away from the bullpen as I passed through. The entire building was empty now.

Jameson rushed towards me. "Everything okay?"

"Shower," I said, holding in bile.

"Right. I'll find you a change of clothes." He turned to go.

"Don't bother. I have some in my locker." I rushed towards the locker rooms.

Inside, I tossed my clothes into the trash as I disrobed. When the lukewarm water hit me and I felt a chunk of something slide down my back, I leaned over and lost my stomach contents.

I don't know how long I stood under the water, unwilling to reach up and make sure there wasn't any more of Quincy in my hair or on my skin. I stood under the spray, my eyes closed, thankful that I hadn't witnessed what Quincy had done behind my back. I was shivering when I heard Jameson's voice.

"Are you okay?"

I opened my eyes, tears mixed with the shower water.

"I can't…" I said, shaking my head.

Suddenly, Jameson was there, holding me. My tears and the shower water soaked his black shirt.

"You're getting wet," I said into his chest.

"Let me help you," he said softly.

He pulled me back under the spray, took a handful of soap, and started washing my hair. His fingers brushed through my tangles, gently removing anything I'd missed or hadn't wanted to touch.

"I was so scared," Jameson said softly. "So afraid I'd lose you."

I watched his eyes move over to mine. "I love you too," I said with a weak smile.

"Shitty timing." He smiled down at me.

I nodded and swallowed. "What happened?"

After assessing that he'd gotten my hair clean, Jameson shut off the water and walked over to get me a towel.

Once I was wrapped in it and sitting on the bench next to my locker, he took my hand.

"I'm sorry, it looks like I'm going to be tied up here for a few hours," Jameson said to me. "Can I come over to your place after? Explain everything then?" He lifted my hand to his lips.

I nodded and watched him stand up, lean in, and kiss me, before heading out of the locker room.

I pulled on my spare jeans, shirt, and running shoes, then I ran a comb through my hair before heading back outside.

Randy was there, sitting right outside of the locker room, waiting for me. The hug he gave me had more tears rolling down my cheeks.

"We aren't going to tell your mother about this. She'd kill us both and make you retire with me," he said softly.

I laughed and agreed. "Right. I love you, Dad," I said during the hug.

"My girl." He sighed. "I'm sorry about… Quincy." I nodded and swallowed. "I know you two broke things off. Still…"

"Still." I sighed.

"Jameson, he's a good one. Down to the core." He smiled at me.

"Yeah." I smiled back. "I think he's the one." I glanced around and saw him talking to one of the other agents.

"I'm going to have a mess around here. Until then, you've still got lead on things. Until you're one hundred percent sure whether Quincy had anything to do with the deaths, I expect you to work the case," he said, and I smiled and lifted my chin slightly as I nodded. "That's my girl." He hugged me again. "Take the rest of the day." When I opened my mouth, he narrowed his eyes. "That's an order."

I chuckled. "I love you, Dad."

He smiled and leaned in to brush a kiss over my cheek. "Love you too, sweetie."

"I'll see you in a few hours," Jameson said to me. "Will you be at your place?"

I nodded. "I'll be there. I've been kicked out of here for the day."

"I'll fill you in then." He took my hand.

I nodded again and then reached up on my toes and kissed him. "Later."

Driving back home, I was in a daze. I tried to stop what had just happened from running through my mind.

When I got home, I took another very long hot shower, scrubbing my hair and body until my skin was red and my hair was squeaky clean.

I dressed in yoga pants and waited for Jameson to arrive. I ate a handful of saltine crackers, afraid that if I ate anything more, I'd lose it again. I sat in my living room in a daze.

My mother called and chatted with me like it was a normal day. She'd heard some of the basics about what had happened down at the station, but I knew that Dad would make sure that everyone kept the gory details from her.

I tried to act as if nothing bad had happened and when she asked if something was wrong, I faked having a headache and got off the phone. Then I continued to stare out my windows, waiting for Jameson to arrive. Hardly blinking. Hardly breathing. My mind raced.

Shortly before sunset, Jameson showed up with a bag of fast food from one of the chicken places between here and the police station. He looked tired and yet relieved to see me.

After I let him inside, he set the food down and wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight for the longest time.

"My god," he said, several times. "I thought… I've never been so afraid before."

I closed my eyes, melting into his hold. I wanted—needed—to feel like I'd survived for a reason. What I had with Jameson was far more than anything I'd experienced with Quincy. "Jameson, I need you. I need to feel alive," I said, looking deep into his eyes. "I need to know this is real." I shook my head as my throat closed. "Please."

His kiss was the answer to everything I'd needed to know since the events of that morning. My mind instantly settled and was free of all the worry, the fears I'd been wrestling with endlessly for hours.

When he lifted me up in his arms and carried me back to the bedroom, I knew that my words, my simple I love you, weren't enough to express how I felt for him. It could never be enough.

As we slowly peeled off our clothes and came together, there was no doubt that what was between us was the real deal. Jameson was part of my soul. He would always have my heart.

I felt him move inside me as I desperately held onto him, wrapped my body around his, and those actions said more than words ever could. Here, lying together in the darkness, this was the strongest love that we could show one another.

Later, when we were still, his arms wrapped around me, my head resting on his shoulder while he stroked my hair, he whispered those words again.

"I love you." He shifted to look down at me. "I've never said those words before."

"I love you." I smiled up at him, his face barely visible in the darkness. "I haven't said them either."

Then, to my shock, my stomach growled loudly, and we laughed together.