Trigger Warnings: None Standard Disclaimer for this whole work: I own nothing all credit goes to Lena Diaz and maybe a few credits goes to Fox's Glee creative team. This should be the last upload of the day...

Chapter Six

It was tempting to barrel down the highway to Nashville and pretend none of this had ever happened. But Cedes rather doubted her mother's old car would make it. And she was too mentally exhausted right now to make that trip.

But she wasn't quite ready to return to her mother's house, either. She was far too upset, and seeing the empty house wasn't going to make her feel any better. So, instead, she wound aimlessly down the backroads until the sun began to sink in the sky, going nowhere in particular, trying to drive out her frustrations.

Driving on gravel roads was apparently a skill she'd forgotten long ago. She was forced to slow down almost to a crawl to keep her car from sliding on the loose rocks and ending up in a ditch.

It suddenly dawned on her where she was, and what was close by. She'd never intended to drive down this particular road. But now that she was here, it seemed that fate had raised its hand. And she started looking in earnest for the turnoff she knew had to be close by.

It didn't help that the road was overgrown with weeds, the edges hard to see, especially in the gloom from the oak tree branches blocking out the fading sunlight overhead. Maybe she should turn around and rent a four-wheel drive before coming out here. Then again, if she didn't do this now, she never would.

She wasn't sure why doing this was suddenly so important. After all, living in the past had never done anything for her before. But with the present so painful, maybe this was just the thing, to remember better times and pretend, if only for a moment, that all the bad had never happened.

"Where are you, where are you?" she muttered, peering through the trees on the right side of the road. Just when she thought she'd have to give up and turn around, she saw it—an old, weathered barn hundreds of yards away, perched upon a slight rise.

She slowed the Taurus, mildly surprised she was able to make the turnoff without wrecking the ancient car. The trees fell away as she accelerated across the fallow field, dried-up remnants of cornstalks, long since harvested, the only evidence of the last crop that had been planted here.

In her mind's eye, the barn was like a familiar Norman Rockwell painting, a beacon of happier times, welcoming her home. But she couldn't ignore reality for long. The barn was dilapidated, crouching like an evil gargoyle against the dead land surrounding it. Time had not been kind to the abandoned building. Holes had been punched in its rotten walls, probably by animals that had made their homes inside. She parked beside it, not too close, for fear a stiff breeze might blow the building over on top of her car.

Leaving her purse and keys in the Taurus, she made a slow circuit around to the front of the barn and stopped. Funny how so much had changed, and yet, everything was the same. The red paint that had once graced the structure was nearly gone. But the initials carved into one of the boards to the right of the door remained—MJ+ SE, with a Cupid's arrow running through the middle.

Sam's words at the lawyer's office echoed in her mind.

Ancient history. It meant nothing.

That last part was what hurt the most. It meant nothing. What had he meant by "it"? The seven years they'd been best friends? The three years they'd been serious boyfriend and girlfriend? That last year, when they'd finally gone all the way? They'd pledged their love to each other. Had it all been a lie on Sam's part? Had everything he'd said in her mother's kitchen been a ploy to get her to talk?

It shouldn't matter. Good grief, she was approaching thirty now. A small-business owner with an established life in another town, with friends who didn't care about whatever past she'd left behind. This barn, those initials carved in the wood, they were the part of her life that really was ancient history, just as Sam had said.

But it was her history, a very important part that had made her the person she was today, for better or for worse. And she'd never realized until now just how stuck in the past she was, and that she'd never really cut the tether to Destiny. To Sam. Part of her was still here. Part of her had never left.

Until now, she'd never wondered whether the love between her and Sam had been real or not. Just thinking that what she'd thought of as the very best part of her life, as a beautiful experience, might have meant nothing to him twisted a knife deeper into her heart.

Angrily brushing at the tears running down her cheeks again, she sent up a quick prayer that the building was sturdier than it looked and headed toward the enormous double doors built to accommodate a small tractor, or maybe a pair of draft horses in older times.

The rusty chain looped from one door handle to the other was more of a suggestion than an impediment to her getting inside. All she had to do was squeeze in the opening between the two doors after ducking beneath the chain. And suddenly it was ten years ago, as if she'd never left.

The missing and damaged boards allowed enough light to seep in for her to see that little had changed inside since she and Sam had sneaked into this old barn that first night, and again several more times after that. He'd laid a blanket and pillow down onto a bed of fresh hay. They'd introduced each other to a world of passion that neither of them had ever experienced before. It was the most wonderful moment of her young life up to that point. She'd been so naive, believing that love would last forever. But nothing lasted forever, if indeed it had ever existed.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped farther into the barn.

"What are you doing in here, Cedes? It's dangerous. Didn't you see the No Trespassing signs out front?"

She whirled around, pressing a hand against her heart even as she recognized Sam's voice.

His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. "You've been crying."

"I'm fine. What are you doing here? This can't be a coincidence."

"I tailed you out of town." He held up his hands as if to stop any angry words. "I wasn't trying to be intrusive or nosy. But you seemed upset and I was worried about you driving while upset. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." He looked around the barn. "Imagine my surprise when you turned in here."

She wasn't feeling charitable enough at the moment to believe that he'd followed her out of worry. In fact, she was more inclined to believe something else entirely.

"I didn't wreck. Yay me. But I'm thinking your true reason for following me is that your chief ordered you to. Well, you can turn around and go back to the station. Tell him you did your duty, tried once again to convince me to go to the station, and once again I refused. Go on. I don't need you here. And we both know you sure as hell don't want to be here. Not with me. If you ever did."

She turned her back on him and waited to hear his boots make a path to the doors. Instead, he moved closer. She could feel the heat of his body at her back even through her sweater. And she hated that what she wanted to do, what she really craved, was to take one step back and lean into him. She wanted to feel his arms come down around her, hold her and this time never let her go. And she hated herself for it.

"Cedes, what's wrong?" His deep voice curled itself around her like an invitation.

It was insane that being this close to him could have such an impact on her. He was setting her on fire, making her body yearn for him, as if it remembered him and ached to be with him again. How could she want him when she hurt so much inside and her mind was screaming at her that she was a fool?

She didn't answer, couldn't answer, without revealing the war going on inside her.

His heavy sigh seemed loud in the quiet barn. "How long are you going to stand there? What did you plan on doing when you came in here?"

She shrugged. Let him think she was being difficult instead of that she was paralyzed by her own traitorous emotions. If he touched her right now, she knew she wouldn't be able to walk away. Perhaps it was the emotional roller coaster she'd been on since getting that shocking call that her mother had passed unexpectedly that made her so vulnerable. Maybe it was coming so close to death herself that had her yearning for what she'd once had but could never have again. A sob built in her throat. She ruthlessly held it back, clenching her hands into fists at her side.

Go away, Sam. Can't you see you're killing me?

"At least let me escort you back to your mom's."

The confusion and irritation in his voice was exactly what she'd needed. It helped her snap out of her pity party and gave her enough of a flash of irritation at him to finally speak.

"No, thank you. I'm not ready to go back."

There. That had sounded strong, unaffected, confident. Hadn't it? Surely he hadn't heard the little wobble in her voice. It had only been a tiny little wobble.

"Cedes?" His voice was softer this time. "Are you all right?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, drew two deep, bracing breaths. "Just go, okay? You don't owe me anything. It's not like we're in a relationship anymore."

Her voice was thick with tears, but there was nothing she could do about it. She just needed him to stop torturing her and leave before she melted into a puddle of misery. His hurtful words from back in town poured out of her in a sea of bitterness. "Whatever happened in the past was ancient history anyway. Didn't even matter."

"I knew it. I knew you heard that stupid phone call." He turned her around and put his hand beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. "I'm sorry, Cedes. I was a jerk back there, okay?"

"Back where? At the grocery store deli, when you ignored me? Or the lawyer's office, where you basically told your boss—or whoever was on the phone—that I wasn't even a blip on your life's radar? I'm guessing when we made love here that never mattered, either." Tears ran down her cheeks and she swiped them away. She swore. "I did not come here for this. I don't want to do this. Please, Sam. Just go."

He grabbed her shoulders, his eyes dark with anger and frustration. "You're the one who turned down my proposal. You're the one who left. So why are you so angry at me?"

She shook her head, her throat tight.

He started to say something else, then stopped. Started again, then swore and yanked her against him. He wanted to kiss her. She could see it in the way his mouth tightened, the way his gaze dropped to her lips. And for one crazy minute, she wanted the same thing. She wanted his mouth swooping down on hers, consuming her in a wild, angry kiss that was nothing like the tender kisses they'd shared as teenagers. She wanted—needed—crazy right now. A kiss so unexpected and incredibly hot that they'd both be panting by the time they broke apart.

She blinked up at him, her shaking fingers pressing against her lips. Just the thought of him kissing her had her mouth tingling.

His nostrils flared as he watched her fingers. Then he shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. And the moment, the spell, whatever it was, was gone. But the anger, the hurt, wasn't.

"Just because I don't want to share every intimate detail of my life with my boss doesn't mean our past was a lie. It meant something, Cedes," he rasped, his voice ragged. "We meant something."

And then he was gone.

She didn't know how long she stood there, his words repeating themselves over and over in her mind, confusing her even more than she was before.

We meant something.

She stood there for a long time, until the shadows began to lengthen, until a noise in the loft spooked her and she berated herself for being silly. No telling what kinds of animals made their home here in this old, abandoned barn.

She slipped between the chains and headed to the Taurus. She'd just started to circle back toward the road when something in her rearview mirror had her slamming on the brakes. She stared long and hard at the mirror, which showed the front of the barn. But several minutes passed and she didn't see anything else.

Laughing nervously, she told herself her mind was playing tricks on her. The roof overhang must have cast a shadow across the doors to make it look like a man had slipped through the chains and run around the side of the building.


After wolfing down a hearty breakfast of bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy at Eva-Marie's diner, Sam leaned back against the corner booth. And settled in to wait.

He glanced at his watch, then at the door to the diner, dreading the upcoming conversation. He still wasn't sure why he was doing this. Then again, who was he kidding? He was doing this because of what had happened last night with Cedes, or, what had almost happened. And how badly he'd wanted it to happen.

That alone, the fact that it had nearly killed him not to kiss her, told him that this meeting he'd set up this morning was the right thing to do. The honorable thing to do. Even though he had no intention of pursuing a relationship with Cedes again. Thoughts of her were consuming his days, his nights, no matter how hard he tried to push them out of his head. And that made it impossible, and wrong, to remain in a relationship with someone else. It was time to end his three-week dating spree with police intern Quinn Fabray.

Breaking up with someone in a diner made him cringe. He'd tried to schedule this discussion at her place, or his. But as soon as he'd called her this morning, saying they needed to talk, it was as if her sixth sense had kicked in. She'd become distant, defensive, and insisted that they meet here. In public. Why she wanted to do that, he had no idea.

Then again, as the door opened and she strutted inside, he realized exactly why she'd chosen this particular place. He'd wanted to spare her feelings and not make a scene. But she obviously had no such intentions toward him.

Quinn strode down the center aisle, her heavily made-up eyes tracking him like a radar-guided missile. Her long, blond hair bounced around her shoulders. Impossibly tight jeans outlined her figure, tapering down her long legs to a pair of bloodred stilettos that clicked across the black-and-white tiled floor. Every head turned her way, watching her deliberate progress until she stopped beside Sam's booth.

He started to stand but she waved him back down.

"Don't bother acting the gentleman now." She put her hands on her hips. "You think I don't know what you're doing? This whole town is talking about your little girlfriend and how you carried her out of the grocery store all lovey-dovey." She rolled her eyes. "Now you're breaking up with me so you can go screw that boyfriend-stealer again. Admit it."

A gasp of outrage sounded behind her. Quinn looked over her shoulder to see Dani, the waitress, holding a pot of coffee, her mouth hanging open.

"Go away." Quinn made a shooing motion with her hand. "We're busy."

Sam shot Dani an apologetic look before rising to his feet. "I'm sorry."

Quinn rolled her eyes again. "It's a little late for that."

"I was talking to Dani."

Quinn narrowed her eyes.

Dani glared at Quinn's back and whirled around.

Sam tossed some bills onto the table. "Let's go somewhere private."

Her hands went back to her hips. "Are you breaking up with me or not?"

He didn't have to look past her to know that everyone was listening for his response. She'd practically yelled her question. And the place had gone completely silent.

"Quinn—"

"Answer me," she shouted.

He winced. "We've only been dating for a few weeks. I hardly think it qualifies as a breakup. But, yes, I've got a lot of things going on with the investigation and all. You deserve someone who can focus on you and right now that's not me. I think we should stop seeing each other—"

Whap!

Her hand slapped his cheek. The sting was nothing compared to the sting to his pride as she pivoted on her stilettos and marched out of the diner. He'd never made a woman angry enough to slap him before, and it bothered him that he'd done so now.

"Good riddance is all I can say." Dani stopped in front of him and refilled his coffee cup. "I could tell she was trouble from the minute the chief hired her. She appears perfect, but you got to use your mind and think why a lawyer from Memphis would move here to become a cop. She is running from something in her past and probably was forced to move here and the only job available was that of a cop. You can tell by her eyes, she is crazy. You never should've taken up with the likes of her."

Sam sat back down, figuring another cup of coffee might do him some good. Since Dani was still standing there, expecting a reply, he shrugged.

"She's an intelligent, beautiful woman. I can't blame her for being upset. As soon as I knew that Cedes was back in town I should have told Quinn about our past. Obviously she heard the rumors from someone else. That had to embarrass her."

"Right. When would you have talked to her? After the first shooting or the second?" She shook her head in disgust. "The woman was a police intern, for goodness' sake. She had to know you were busy with the investigations and didn't have time to coddle her. Not that you should anyway." She looked past him, out the window, and her mouth quirked up in a smile. "You've been wasting years on types like that Quinn woman. When all along you should have been spending time with someone of quality, like her."

She waved toward the window, then took her coffeepot with her as she headed to the counter.

Sam looked out at the parking lot, worried that Dani might be trying to fix him up with someone. Then he saw her. Cedes. She'd just parked her mom's Taurus in the only space left at the end of the packed lot and was heading toward the diner.

A quick glance at the street confirmed that one of the bodyguards that he'd hired to keep an eye on her was sitting in his car at the curb. He must have seen Sam's truck outside and figured she'd be safe inside.

About five inches shorter than Quinn, without the stilettos, Cedes had lush, curly black hair that fell just past her shoulders. And even though he couldn't see them this far away, he knew her eyes were an incredible color of brown that could darken like a storm whenever she was mad. Or when she was writhing beneath him in passion.

He frowned and shoved that dangerous memory far away. It wouldn't do to dwell on the past. He'd done enough of that yesterday. Seeing her go into that barn where they'd first made love had brought up all kinds of memories he didn't want to deal with again. He'd thought they'd been locked away somewhere tight all this time, or were gone altogether. And yet it had only taken one trip to a ramshackle barn to bring them all back again.

Who was he kidding?

Those feelings had been dredged up the moment he'd seen her standing at the deli counter at the Piggly Wiggly, her dark hair reaching past her shoulders. When he'd rounded the end of the aisle, the shock of seeing her had nearly driven him to his knees. But even though his mind ordered him to stop, turn around, get out of the store before she saw him, his body had other ideas.

His legs had continued to carry him forward like a starving man drawn to an incredible bounty that would either save him or destroy him. He'd been fighting his insane attraction to her ever since. And when he'd followed her into the barn, heard the tears in her voice, the hurt that he'd caused, he'd been lost. He hadn't wanted to leave her there. He hadn't been lying when he said he was worried about her. But at the same time, he knew that if he'd stood there even a second more, he'd have dragged her to the ground and made love to her.

He scrubbed his jaw and shoved the coffee cup away just as Cedes walked inside. And just like when Quinn had come in earlier, everyone looked to the front. But unlike earlier, Cedes's entrance was met with greetings and smiles and a few hugs. There might be a cloud over her in most parts of town, but the old-timers in this diner seemed to have no concerns about Cedes's past and whether she was guilty of murder. They were greeting her like old friends, or at least, friends of her mother. It was mostly retired folks in here this time of day. The younger crowd was busy making a living.

When Cedes reached his booth, he rose and tipped his head.

"Morning, Cedes. Everything okay?"

"Just peachy. Except that strange men I don't know seem to be following me everywhere." Unlike her predecessor, she kept her voice low so it didn't carry to the other tables. And the rest of the patrons had turned around to offer them privacy.

"Strange men?" he asked, glancing around.

She waved toward the car parked at the curb. "I assume you hired him to keep an eye on me."

He let out a deep sigh. So much for the bodyguards being invisible. "Guilty." He studied her a moment. "You don't seem angry." He waved her into the booth and sat across from her.

She shrugged. "Honestly, I was kind of surprised at how easily you backed down when I insisted that I didn't want anyone keeping an eye on me. I felt pretty silly later for not taking you up on your offer and was going to call someone myself when I spotted one of the men outside my house last night. From his mannerisms, I kind of figured he might be a security guy. But I called the police just to be sure."

Sam waved Dani over, who came bearing a pot of coffee and an extra cup for Cedes, along with a menu.

"Thanks, Dani." Cedes smiled. "I appreciate the coffee but I'm really not hungry."

"Let me know if you change your mind." Dani hurried to another table to refill their cups.

"I'm surprised I didn't hear about the call," Sam said. "What happened?"

She ruined her coffee with a liberal amount of cream and sugar. "A uniformed officer came over and checked the guy out, then told me he was a bodyguard of all things. But the guy wouldn't say who'd hired him. I let it drop, said not to worry about it, that I was pretty sure who was behind him being there. Thanks, Sam. I do appreciate you making sure that I'm safe. Especially since my shadow isn't a cop."

"Ouch."

She winced. "Sorry. No offense. I don't hold it against you that you're a police officer."

He smiled. "Gee. Thanks. I feel so much better now."

She smiled back, then her smile faded. "I can reimburse you for whatever costs—"

"No."

She sighed. "I figured you'd say that. If you change your mind—"

"I won't."

"As stubborn as ever I see," she said.

"One of the many things we have in common."

Her bubble of laughter had several people looking at them, smiling as well, before returning to their meals. He couldn't help smiling, too. Seeing Cedes looking happy was too contagious not to have him feeling lighter inside. Her eyes danced with merriment and it was as if all the years between them had never passed. This was the Cedes he remembered, the Cedes he'd loved.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"You. And me. And Mr. Pillsbury's orchard."

He grimaced. "Before or after I thought I could outrun that bull to get you some apples?"

"Oh, definitely after." She laughed. "I warned you not to try it. But you were too stubborn. Once you got an idea in your head you wouldn't let it go. Maybe you should have gone out for the track team. I swear I never saw a human being run that fast."

"Not fast enough."

"You were faster than the bull," she argued.

"But not faster than Mr. Pillsbury's buckshot." He winced again, barely refraining from rubbing his posterior at the memory. "I couldn't sit up for a month."

"True." She rested her chin on her palm, a faraway look in her misty blue eyes. "But we had a lot of fun that month. I must have read you over twenty books while you were convalescing."

"You tortured me. At least three of them were romance novels. I've never lived that down with my brother." He leaned toward her conspiratorially. "I still have to pay Stevie hush money to this day."

"You wouldn't have to pay if you didn't actually like them. Admit it. You've probably got a romance novel under your pillow right now and you read it every night."

He laughed. "I guess you'd have to come over to my place to find out."

Her smile faded, and the easy camaraderie that had sprung up between them evaporated. He wanted to kick himself for getting carried away and destroying the light atmosphere.

They both straightened, and she awkwardly cleared her throat.

"Where do you live anyway?" she asked, before taking a sip of coffee.

"I built a house on some land adjacent to my father's farm. Close enough to keep in touch but far enough away that I've got my privacy."

She nodded, then shoved her cup out of the way.

"I didn't mean to take up so much of your time. I know you're really busy with the investigation. Actually, that's the reason I'm here. I drove into town to take care of a few more errands and when I passed the grocery store I couldn't help thinking about what happened. That's when I remembered something that I didn't tell anyone before. I pulled over to call you when I saw your truck over here in the lot, so I decided to come tell you in person."

"Tell me what?"

"A name. When I was in the grocery store, hiding from the gunmen, I overheard one of them in the next aisle saying something about Sugar telling them that she was heading toward the front of the store. I'm not sure what they were talking about. But I figured this Sugar person might be someone who works at the store. And if that's the case—"

"Then there's an insider who might have helped the gunmen."

"Exactly. What do you think? Could that be helpful?"

"It's a lead to follow. Could very well be a great lead. Thanks, Cedes."

"Of course. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know." She shoved out of the booth and stood.

Sam stood, too. "You seem to be in a hurry."

She hesitated, her gaze dropping from his. Was she thinking about last night, about what had almost happened between them?

"Just...have a lot to do to wrap up loose ends. How much is the coffee? A couple of bucks?"

She reached into her purse but Sam put his hand on hers.

"I'll take care of it."

She blinked, and looked like she wanted to say something. But then she cleared her throat as if changing her mind.

"Thanks, Sam. Take care." And then she was rushing down the aisle and out of the diner.

Sam watched her until she was driving down the street, her bodyguard following a few car lengths behind. Then he pitched some bills onto the table and headed out to his truck.

Once inside, he made a call to his boss and told him about the name that Cedes had remembered.

"Where are you right now?" the chief asked.

"Eva-Marie's. Just had breakfast."

"Good. That's a hop-skip away from the Piggly Wiggly. This Sugar thing sounds like a great lead. And this is the perfect time to follow up on it. I sent Mike, Santana and Hunter to the Pig to walk the witnesses through the shooting, step-by-step, to see if any of their initial statements change. Plus, we asked the manager to round everyone up who works there to come in, not just the ones on shift during the shooting. I wanted to see whether anyone saw anything suspicious in the days or weeks before, when maybe the shooters were casing the place to plan the assault. Everyone should be there right now. You can head on over and see if one of them is named Sugar."

"Will do. Wait, you said Hunter is there?"

"You got a problem with that? The man isn't exactly a rookie at law enforcement. He's just new to us. He needs to be brought up to speed on how we do things."

Sam grinned but was careful not to laugh. "You're the boss."

"Don't you forget that. Now get over there. And let me know once you find this Sugar guy."

When Sam reached the doors to the grocery store, he flashed his badge to the deputy assigned to log everyone who went in or out. Then he was inside, taking quick stock of the situation.

A row of folding tables and chairs had been set up in the main aisle that ran the width of the store, just behind the checkout area. He counted fifteen civilians, mostly teenagers, sitting at the tables. They pretty much all had the same bored look that teenagers often sported these days as they apparently waited to be interviewed.

Many of them he recognized, by sight if not by name. In a town as small as Destiny, it was common to run into the same people at local stores and events, even if they never spoke. But there were still a few faces he didn't know, and some he couldn't see because they were blocked by others.

A short distance away were two more tables, each with only one civilian sitting behind it. Santana sat at one table, writing something down while her interviewee spoke animatedly with his hands to punctuate whatever he was saying. At the second table, Mike was the one asking questions, with Hunter taking notes like a good apprentice should.

Mike spotted Sam and waved him over. "Hey, if you're here to help interview, we sure could use you. Drag one of those tables over here."

"Which one's Sugar?"

"Sugar?" Mike frowned and picked up a clipboard of names. "Sugar, Sugar, Sugar." He ran his finger down the line, then reversed direction. "Hmm, no Sugar here."

"You mean Gina," the man sitting across from him said. He pointed to one of the names on the sheet of paper. "Gina Motta. We all call her Sugar."

"Why?" Mike asked.

He shrugged. "Her real name is Regina. To most people she's Gina. But to her friends, she's Sugar. Beats me why she uses that for a nickname. I like Regina a lot better."

"Which one is she?" Sam asked.

The young man leaned back in his chair, scanning the faces of the other employees. "There she is, on the end."

"Red hair?" Sam grabbed an extra clipboard and pen from the table.

"Nah, brown hair." He stood and pointed. "That's her, next to the redhead. The one in the green shirt."

The young woman he was pointing to looked at Sam and her eyes widened—just like they had the morning of the shooting, when he'd pulled her to the floor, supposedly to protect her from the gunmen.

"Oh, she's definitely involved in this," he muttered. "She was the cashier in my line when the gunmen busted into the store."

He dropped the clipboard on the table and stalked toward her.

She jumped up from her chair and took off toward the entrance.

Sam took off after her.

Some of the other workers whistled and made catcalls as Sugar shoved a display of potato chips over and raced past a cash register.

Sam hurdled over the display, bags of chips crunching beneath his feet as he sprinted toward the door where she'd just disappeared. He ran through the opening and slid to a halt in front of the deputy stationed there.

"Which way?" Sam demanded. "The girl who ran out of here. Which way did she go?"

He pointed to the right, and Sam caught a glimpse of her brown hair before she disappeared around the corner of the building. Dang, she was fast. Remembering the layout of the store on the lot and what was behind it, he took a gamble and headed in the opposite direction.

"You're going the wrong way," the cop called behind him.

Sam ignored him, pumping his arms and legs as he rounded the corner, then sprinted for the next corner. If he remembered right, the tall fence at the back of the property would force his prey back toward him. Sure enough, as soon as he reached the corner, Sugar ran out in front of him. He tackled her in midstride, turning with her in his arms to protect her as they both fell.

Her startled scream was abruptly cut off when they landed in a heap of arms and legs. Sam cursed when his head slammed against the pavement, but he held on to the squirming girl.

"Stop fighting me," he ordered.

The fury in his voice must have shocked her into submission, because she immediately stilled.

The sound of running footsteps heralded the arrival of Mike, the stun gun in his hand his weapon of choice against the rowdy teenager in Sam's arms. He stopped a few feet away and clipped the stun gun back on his belt.

"Looks like you got your man—or woman or child, as the case may be."

"Stop grinning and get her off me."

"Yes, sir," Mike teased. He yanked the girl up then put her on the ground again, facedown, while he cuffed her.

Sam was slower to get up, brushing off his pants and then rubbing the back of his head. He winced when his fingers touched a particularly tender spot that was already becoming a knot.

"Hold still," Mike ordered as he patted down the now squirming girl, checking for weapons. He straightened, keeping one hand on Sugar's right arm. "You okay?"

"No," she whined. "He threw me down. I probably have bruises. I'm gonna sue both of you."

"I wasn't talking to you," Mike said. "I was talking to the police officer who had to chase your sorry butt."

She glared at him.

"I'm fine. Just a bump." Sam lowered his hand. "Are you Gina Motta? The one they call Sugar?"

"Depends on who's asking." If she'd been chewing gum she'd probably have spit it at him. "Why'd you chase me? I ain't done nothing."

"So it's just a coincidence that you were at the cash register when your friends came in firing automatic weapons, huh?"

She looked away. "Friends? Don't know what you're talking about. Like I said, I didn't do anything."

"Then why did you run?"

She shrugged. "You're a big guy. You scared me. I've seen TV. I know how you cops can be, beating people up for no reason."

Mike rolled his eyes. "I'll clear the break room. We can interview her in there."

Sam grabbed her arm and led her around the side of the building, following Mike.

Sugar swore at him. "I'm just a minimum-wage cashier. I ain't broke any laws. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Then you've got nothing to worry about."

A few minutes later, Sam had Sugar cooling her heels in the locked break room while he spoke to Mike and Santana in the hallway a few doors down, just outside the manager's office. Santana had run over to them when they brought Sugar back inside.

She was slightly out of breath from zipping across the width of the store to catch them. "Sam, you'd better be careful, and fast with the questions. I just got the lowdown on Gina. She's Al Motta's daughter."

Sam groaned. "The Mottas who live off the grid near the mountains because it is rumored that they snitched on the mob family they were affiliated with?"

"Yep."

Mike frowned. "I don't remember ever seeing Al Motta. Should I?"

"He's caused some trouble here and there. Maybe you were on vacation and I was the lucky one those nights," Sam said.

"It gets worse," Santana warned him. "Sam heard we brought Sugar in for another interview and is on his way over. Says to leave his girl alone and no one is to speak to her. Of course, legally, she's an adult."

"Which means I can ask her anything I want." Sam checked his watch. "Lucky for me I took her phone when I patted her down again in there. And as long as no one else is allowed down this hallway, no one's going to tell her that Daddy dearest is on his way. When did he call?"

"Hasn't been that long," Santana said. "I figure if he drives the speed limit, you've got fifteen minutes."

"Meaning I probably have ten."

"That's my guess. Make it quick."