Internal Affairs investigator Jeremy Ranklin is looking into corruption within the Reno Police Department when he’s ordered to examine the suspicious death of the Chief of Police. The assignment partners Jeremy with Detective Cristian Flesh. Though they spar at first, Jeremy earns Cristian’s trust, and they work well together.
Deeply closeted, Jeremy fights an attraction to fellow cop Kipp Mosely. The investigation brings Jeremy and Kipp together, but lies and secrets prevent things from going any further. Jeremy will need both Kipp’s and Cristian’s help to discover how deep the corruption runs—and to stay alive when the danger hits close to home.
I PULLED the hood of the gray jacket over my head to shield myself from the rain and scurried into the alley.
Glancing around, I didn’t see anybody. They were supposed to be there. It was the time we had agreed on.
“Hello?” I called out, my voice an octave lower than normal. That was partially due to the wet weather and partially because I wanted to disguise my voice a little. It didn’t really matter, since the man I was there to meet had never met me before.
“Hello?” I shouted again, this time a little louder.
The headlights of a car in front of me came on, blinding me. I covered my eyes and stepped back. The driver and passenger side doors opened, and I could make out the forms of two people. One, somewhat short and stocky, made me relax. Things were going as planned. The second person, the man I was really there for, stepped forward.
“Are you Ruskin?” His voice was very deep and animalistic.
I nodded. “You’re Nicky Pointer, right?”
He didn’t answer my question but came closer. He towered over me by at least five inches. “Mosely says you have information that could bring down Anthony Zion.”
The other man left the shadows. I looked his way and nodded a greeting.
“I’m glad you came, Ruskin,” Kipp Mosely replied.
I hugged myself and stared at the ground. “I just want to be done with this. You have to protect me. Zion will kill me if he finds out what I know.”
Anthony Zion, Reno’s resident mob boss, was responsible for most of the drugs in the area as well as several other criminal enterprises.
“What exactly do you know?” Pointer asked.
I peered up at him. “You’ll take care of me, right?”
“I told you we would,” Mosely replied.
“Yeah, don’t worry about that.” Pointer and Mosely exchanged glances.
“I know where Zion is manufacturing the meth. He’ll be there tomorrow, so if you raid it then, you’ll catch him in the act.”
Pointer whistled. “Damn, that’s enough to bring the man down. You’re prepared to testify?”
“Hell, yeah,” I answered. “You guys take care of me and I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“That’s kind of too bad,” Pointer mumbled.
“Huh?” I pulled the hood off my head so I could peer into the man’s eyes.
Pointer yanked a pistol from its holster and aimed it at my head. “I was hoping you’d be lying or too chickenshit to testify.”
I raised my hands. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s too bad you came to my partner,” Pointer said. “You might’ve stayed alive longer if you went to someone else. A cop not on Zion’s payroll.”
“You’re dirty?” I cowered, shielding my face with my hands. “A fucking dirty cop, just my luck.”
He shrugged. “Zion pays me well, and most of the time I don’t have to get my hands dirty.”
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Ethan Stone lives in the soggy state of Oregon, and, yes, he does have webbed feet. He used to have a day job where he wore a sexy uniform, now he can wear whatever he wants to work as he attempts to see if this writing thing can support his Mt. Dew addiction.