* * *

“Got a minute, Sergeant?” Chief Ford asked.

Brick glanced up from the plate of pancakes he was sharing with a sated, loose-limbed Remi. “Sure.”

She jerked her head toward the side porch, and he followed her outside.

“We’ve got a strong case,” she said. “She’s got six months of photographic evidence documenting injuries. A diary of each incident.”

“Smart.”

“I’m going to lean as hard as I can on the Illinois boys to move fast for an arrest.”

“But?” he asked, reading between the lines.

“I think you and I both know how that will go.”

He nodded. A man like Vorhees had power and money. Which meant he also had people. The justice system didn’t exactly move swiftly, even without those added complications. And professional courtesy only extended so far when it came to a police chief on some tiny island in another state. Even if they could get him arrested, he’d be walking on bail in less than an hour.

“There’s something else,” Darlene said, turning around to study him. “Our vic hasn’t just been recuperating at home since the accident. She’s been doing a little digging on her own. Seems she got the idea from my daughter.”

Brick closed his eyes. “What are we dealing with?”

“She’s got some information the Federal Election Commission might be interested in.”

“Campaign finance violations?” he asked.

She nodded. “And some election fraud.”

“Evidence?”

“Enough for an investigation. Hell, there might already be a Matter Under Review happening. The FEC doesn’t exactly broadcast their cases.”

He crossed his arms over his chest as a little flame of hope began to burn inside him.

“Does it ever piss you off that a person gets a stricter sentence for financial crimes than abuse?” Darlene mused. “If she gets that protection order and he violates it, it’s a slap on the wrist. Not even a year behind bars. But buy yourself an election, and suddenly the legal system cares.”

“What do we do next?” Brick asked.

“I’m gonna head back and type up the report. I’ll make some calls before I send it on its way and then brief the mayor. If shit’s going down on Mackinac, we need to be ready.”

“It can’t come to that. We have to get him at home,” he said.

“I know. Tell you what, you write the report while I see if I can get someone in Chicago and in the FEC to answer the phone.”

His hands bunched to fists at his sides. Real danger lurked

“Just remember, Brick,” Darlene said, eyeing him. “We’re the good guys.”

He couldn’t say he’d stay on that side of the law. Not if Remi’s life was hanging in the balance. The rules no longer applied, and for the first time in his life, he felt the siren’s call of the gray area between right and wrong.

49

Remi waited until the occupants of the house were occupied in a spirited argument about the best way to prepare and enjoy eggs before slipping out the front door. It was April, and while yesterday had impressed with a balmy forty-nine degrees, it was spitting a little freezing rain that morning.