Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Joshi slowly came closer, shaking his head. “No. There’s not enough evidence to charge you.”
Vasquez frowned, confused.
Joshi folded his arms over his chest. “Remember, I told you I’m good at sniffing out bullshit? It’s what I do for a living.”
Vasquez blinked. “What are you talking about?”
Joshi exhaled, as if deciding how much to reveal.
“I’m not IA. I’m from an investigative firm out of San Antonio. I was brought in to look into God’s task force. To see if they’d gone too far from protocol to remain operational, and if any of them were on the take since their busts kept coming up empty…or if it was as they’d suggested, a leak in the department.”
Vasquez’s stomach dropped.
Joshi searched his face. “I knew you were hiding something, Ramon. I could feel it. But there wasn’t enough proof. No solid evidence tying you directly to Mercer. It was all circumstantial.” Joshi sighed. “If you were charged, even a public defender could’ve gotten you off.”
He paused, voice gentler. “So, I finally completed my report. I recommended the task force undergo a full audit. And that you be released from duty.”
Vasquez inhaled a harsh, rattling breath that made him feel like he’d gotten shot all over again.
He shouldn’t’ve been surprised. Deep down, he’d known this was how it would end. No badge, no friends…no one to love. But the devastation still gutted him.
He didn’t care about the Atlanta PD anymore. But he had cared about keeping Kiran.
He closed his eyes, the pain in his voice betraying him. “So, you and me…it was all a part of your investigation. The dinners…inviting me to your home…kissing me. It was just you doing your job?”
Joshi frowned as if the words physically hurt him. “At first…yes. It started that way.”
Vasquez chuckled—pain searing his chest—at his own fucking luck.
Joshi stepped closer. “But then I saw you. The real you. Under all that anger and bullshit. You’re a good man, Ramon. You just got lost. All men get lost sometimes…even the good ones.”
Vasquez tried to scoff, but it came out as a dry cough.
“I gave you the information on the bust, but Mercer wasn’t tipped off. The raid was a success.”
Vasquez bit his lower lip to keep from saying anything incriminating, although it was most likely too late. He’d been fired.
“I’ve been in my line of work long enough to believe in redemptive sacrifices. Even when they’re messy,” Joshi said.
He paused, those dark eyes locked on him.
“The Briar Heights GoFundMe received an anonymous seventy-thousand-dollar donation a few weeks ago. Free was able to track it to an account in the International Belize Bank.”
Vasquez froze, unable to breathe.
Joshi’s mouth curved. “Under the name Nomar Valjean.”
“Shit.”
“Lucky for you, Free and Lieutenant Tucker are all tech and no literature. They couldn’t hack the name. But I did.”
Joshi’s voice softened. “Valjean. Hugo’s misunderstood criminal in Les Misérables. A man driven by desperation…and love. He steals to feed his family. He’s bad but wants to be good and live a better life, to belong.”
Vasquez shook his head, “That doesn’t mean it’s—”
“And,” Joshi stressed, “Nomar…is Ramon spelled backward.”
Vasquez’s laugh faded into silence.
He didn’t think anyone would ever figure out that damn name or link it to him. Which only proved that Joshi was too fucking smart for a dumbass like him.
Joshi moved in close and cupped Vasquez’s cheek. His palm was as warm and steady as he remembered. A balm that was better than any medicine he’d been administered.
“Money that was meant for bad…you made good. You could’ve kept it, but instead, you gave those families their homes back.”
Vasquez wondered if he’d end up working for Atlanta’s solid waste services after he healed, since he was such a piece of shit.
“My time in Atlanta is done,” Joshi whispered. “I’m going back home.”
“You’re leaving?” His voice broke.
“I have to.”
Vasquez had to fight back the urge to beg. He forced his voice to stay steady. “You gotta move on, right.”
Joshi hesitated a long moment before he said, “Well, since you’re pretty good at catching people on video…” He cracked a tiny smile. “There’s a job open in my firm. Have you ever thought about doing PI work?”
Vasquez knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t close it.
Joshi pressed his hand more firmly to his face. “Ramon, what we had… It wasn’t supposed to be real. But it was for me.” He paused a second before he added. “Come back with me. You can start over, and maybe we can continue what we started.”
Vasquez stared into those eyes for a long time, his throat tight as hope and fear warred inside him.
“My father is here…alone.”
“My father is alone in San Antonio. He lives with me. Maybe they can be friends.” Joshi shrugged. “He’s one annoying ass curmudgeon, I tell ya. But your dad seemed to like me well enough…after I shut up and let him finish watching Gun Smoke.”