“What else?” he demanded.

“Nothing specific,” I admitted. “You three play it close to the vest. There are rumors, speculation. Word is you bump dirty against all sorts of shit. Smuggling, illegal gambling, fraud. As far as I can tell, no one has any solid evidence.”

“And that’s why you’re here.”

“No.” I caught myself taking a step toward him, and stopped. “I’m an Indianapolis homicide detective,” I said reasonably. “You really believe I’m here to find out if you’re smuggling cigarettes?”

I waited for him to reply, but he simply stayed silent, watching me. “How?” I finally asked.

He cocked his head in question.

“How did you know I was a cop?”

“You’re not dealing with idiots, Detective. Or with men who ignore their assets.”

I let his words sink in, then remembered the sign in the reception area at Destiny that plainly announced that the premises were under twenty-four-hour video surveillance.

“Remote video feed,” I said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his smart phone. “I can play back the footage on my laptop, my phone. Like I said, it’s important for me to keep an eye on the place.”

“Thousands of people must cross in front of your cameras. Why notice me?”

“You intrigued me on two counts.” He winced a little, then ran his thumb over the rising bruise on his knuckles. “One, I liked the way you looked. For another, we don’t get many walk-in applicants. Those things combined to catch my eye.”

“And you learned I was a cop? How?”

“Hardly tricky. Like I said, you caught my eye. And I find it useful to have as much information about people as I can. So I had a buddy lift your prints from your application. After that, it was no trouble at all. Sloane Watson, on medical leave from the Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department. And that,” he added with a nod toward my hip, “wasn’t from a mugging.”

He waited, obviously expecting me to tell him what happened.

I stayed silent.

His shoulder lifted almost infinitesimally. “I told you I don’t trust easy. I meant it.”

I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to process all he’d told me while at the same time figuring out my next move.

My goddamn prints. It had never occurred to me that they’d run the prints of someone applying for a waitress position. And it had never occurred to me that Tyler would watch the security feed when he was out of town.

Two mistakes, and knowing they were out there—that they were on me—only riled my temper more. “You knew, and yet you brought me to your room, stripped me, fucked me?” I thought about the couch, the waiter. About the way the erotic thrill had ripped through me, like some intimate new secret that he’d shared with me.

“You played me,” I said, my voice low but trembling with anger. “You fucking played me.”

“Hell yes, I played you. I already told you. I pulled you in, step by step. I had every intention of using you and being done with you.”

He moved away from the door, taking a single step toward me. “Nothing but one big con—or at least that’s the way I planned it. Because nobody plays those kinds of games with me. Not and gets away with it.”

“Well, hooray on you,” I said. “You win. Happy?”

“Not really, no.”

“Yeah? Well, good.” I tried to make the words sound cavalier and uncaring. But dammit, I did care. And now that my fear was gone and the anger was settling, I felt hollow and lost.

Goddamn me for letting myself get twisted around by this guy—this fucking asshole who didn’t want a goddamn thing except to use me. And I’d gone and let myself believe that part of it was real. His talk of trust and passion. Of feeling that connection.

I’d let myself forget that he was a grifter at heart, and who better to see your weak spots than a con who manipulated emotions to make a fast buck?

Well, fuck him.

I started to turn away, but he took my chin. “No,” he said, his voice soft yet firm. “I know what you’re thinking, and no. I pushed you because I thought you were a cop. But when you ran—when I went after you—it was because I wanted the woman.”

“Please,” I said, as a brutal wave of exhaustion swept over me. “Please, will you just let me leave?”

He said nothing for so long I thought he was going to simply ignore the question. “Is that what you want?” he finally asked.

Is that what I want?

Wasn’t that a loaded question? I wanted to start over. I wanted him to be squeaky clean. I wanted to not be a cop.

Except, I didn’t. Not really. I liked who I was. And—though I would admit it only to myself, and even then only in the smallest, darkest parts—I also like who Tyler was. Would he be the same man if he’d grown up all corn fed and innocent with a homecoming king crown on his head? I didn’t think so.

But it didn’t matter, because this was the end. There was nothing between us now but memories, and now even those were tainted, tinged with the bloodred stain of deceit.

“I don’t want anything,” I said wearily. “I meant what I said last night. The only reason I came to Chicago—the only reason I did any of this—was because I want to find Amy.”

He arched a brow. “Aren’t you afraid I sold her to some sick fuck on the other side of the world?”

“No,” I said, and though I meant it sincerely, I was cop enough to know that I couldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility.

He nodded his head, and I thought I saw relief in his eyes.

“So can I have the job?” I really did want it. Not only did I hope that one of the girls would know how to contact Amy, but I also wanted to find out if Kevin and Tom were right, and the knights’ played in a dirty sandbox.

“I told you last night,” he said. “No.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Those girls have been through a lot. They don’t need a cop poking around in their personal business.”

“They don’t need to know I’m a cop.”

“And I’m not going to be the one to deceive them.”

“You sure as hell didn’t have a problem deceiving me.”

Temper flashed in his eyes. “Don’t go there. Do not even start to go there.”

Frustrated, I kicked the wall hard, then again for good measure. “Dammit, Tyler—”

He held up a hand. “Enough. Neither one of us is clean on that score, so let’s just drop it.”

“Fine.”

“But even if I was willing to keep what you are a secret, Evan and Cole wouldn’t go for it.”

That I knew I couldn’t argue with.

“You can come in,” he said. “Sit down with the girls. Ask them if they know anything. It’s the best I can do, Sloane. Take it or leave it.”

It wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t even close to good enough. But unless I could figure out a way to convince Tyler otherwise, it was going to have to be.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll take it.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Well, at least we know that she got another job,” Candy said. It was just after ten in the morning, and I’d called her as soon as I’d arrived back at my apartment. Now I was wishing I’d called from the car. The cell phone connection inside my place was terrible, and she sounded so far away, making me feel even more alone. “Vegas, huh? Just the kind of place she’d get a kick out of. I just wish she would’ve let me know.”