Rick Garza’s soft tone and slight accent were deceptive. It was a valuable quality. He always played the “good cop” during interrogation. He had to. Cole Brownfield would never have fit the part. There was nothing soft or forgiving about the man. Not on the job. He’d seen too much on the street to be lenient with punks like this who’d sell their souls for a dollar. Good-cop, bad-cop routine was a gimmick, but it was surprising how many times it worked.

Holliday nodded. All four legs of his chair hit the floor at once. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and let his confidence show.

“What’s in this for me,” he asked.

“I might let you live.”

The words were not what he’d expected. And they were not coming from the shorter, dark-eyed detective across from him. It was the tall man in the corner who’d spoken. A sudden chill chased across his spine. His eyes narrowed.

“What’s the big deal?” he snarled.

“That’s just it,” Cole whispered, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “No deals.”

Thomas Holliday started to sweat. This wasn’t going the way he’d expected. “But I can give you the names and places—”

“That’s good, my man,” Rick interrupted. It was time he took some control of the situation. He could feel Cole’s anger behind him. It was a living, breathing thing and nearly out of control.

“You give us the information, and we’ll inform the judge that you helped. But no deals.”

“I don’t get it! It was only a snatch. It didn’t amount to much.”

“It was also endangerment and assault and battery,” Cole snarled. “The old woman at the beach had a heart problem. You snatched her medicine. If she’d died from the shock, we’d be talking manslaughter, and you assaulted a woman at the mall. There were witnesses.”

Thomas’s hand slapped the top of the table with frustration. “How was I to know the old lady had a bad ticker? And as for that bitch at the mall, she shouldn’t—”

Cole yanked him out of the chair and had him against the wall before Rick could think to move.

“Don’t call her a bitch…ever,” Cole said softly. His hands tightened just enough around the suspect’s neck to get his attention.

“Cole! Man, don’t blow it.” Rick’s nervousness peaked.

“I’m fine,” Cole said. “I just want to make a point.”

Rick stood back. He trusted his partner. He knew he wouldn’t do anything brutal. Thomas Holliday was the one capable of that. Not Cole Brownfield.

“What’s the big deal?” Holliday grunted.

“That woman at the mall…?”

Holliday nodded.

“She belongs to me.”

“Shit!” The word was short and succinct. It said everything necessary to the situation. Thomas Holliday closed his eyes and cursed again. “Just my luck.”