Jake lunged forward again, but the giant cop jerked him back by the scruff of his neck—none too gently.

Xavier winked at me, and I smiled. I was starting to like Xavier. I’d have to slip him an extra C-note or two the next time I saw him working the door at Northern Aggression.

“Come on, Jake,” Xavier rumbled. “Let’s get you in the squad car so you can call your old man to come bail you out.”

Xavier pushed Jake McAllister and his friend Lance through the front door and into the back of a waiting cruiser. The other cop, the short guy, took statements from Cassidy and Eva. He’d just finished talking with the girls when the front door of the Pork Pit opened and another cop stepped inside. A tall Hispanic man with short black hair, bronze skin, and eyes the color of smoky whiskey.

Detective Donovan Caine.

The majority of cops in Ashland might be known for their apathy and avarice, but Donovan Caine was a rare exception to the rule. He fought against the rampant corruption, bribes, and payoffs most of the police force took to look the other way and actually tried to catch criminals. And the detective really did believe in all that protect and serve, touchy-feely stuff.

My path had first crossed Caine’s several months ago when I’d assassinated Cliff Ingles, his corrupt partner. In addition to forcing money and sexual freebies out of vampire hookers while he was on duty, Ingles had viciously raped and beaten one of the prostitutes’ teenage daughters.

Even among the scum in Ashland, Cliff Ingles had been a real prince, and I’d done him pro bono. My own sort of public service.

Donovan Caine hadn’t known how dirty his partner was and became obsessed with catching Cliff Ingles’s killer—me. Of course, the trail had gone cold, since I was nothing if not professional, but that hadn’t kept Caine from keeping the case alive and digging for information every few weeks.

Then our paths had crossed again—and in person—two months ago when I’d been framed for the murder of a corporate whistle-blower named Gordon Giles.

Some nasty people thought the detective had information that could implicate them in the subsequent scheme and cover-up, and they’d been beating it out of him when I’d shown up and taken them out. After that, Donovan Caine had reluctantly joined forces with me to find the real killer.