Internal Affairs by Alana Matthews

the University of—”
    “Now why do I give a flying fruitcake where this guy graduated from college?”
    “Because it’s pertinent information.”
    “How so?”
    “He attended the University of Illinois at Chicago. Which is where he met Lisa Jean Tobin.”
    Sloan was surprised. Lisa had never mentioned the guy. Had they been in contact all this time?
    “So what are you saying? They were college sweethearts?”
    “Well,” Berletti told him, “that’s a little hard to determine on short notice. But take a look at this photo. It’s from the Chicago Maroon.”
    She touched the screen and showed him a page from what looked like a college newspaper featuring a color photo of an art exhibit at the school. Standing in front of an iron sculpture were a young man and woman holding hands.
    Sloan had to squint, but he had no doubts that the woman in the photo was Lisa. He’d recognize that angel face anywhere. And the guy holding her hand looked about thirty pounds of muscle lighter, but it was definitely Deputy Franco.
    “That seems pretty conclusive to me,” he said.
    “Well, it’s easy to jump to conclusions, but I’d say it’s a safe bet they were intimate.” She paused. “And the timing is interesting, as well.”
    “How so?”
    “This photo was taken in the latter half of 2009. If they were intimate before they eventually split, then there’s every possibility that...” She paused.
    “That what?”
    “That Mr. Franco is Chloe’s father.”
    Sloan felt a slow burn coming on. Now that he knew that Franco might well be the guy who had put that kid in Lisa’s belly, he had to wonder if Franco had been behind the scenes from the very beginning. Using Lisa to steal Sloan’s heart and get to his money.
    It didn’t seem that far-fetched.
    “I want to hurt this creep,” he said to Berletti. “I want to hurt him bad.”
    Sloan thought about this. He could have the guy whacked and it would be over and done with.
    But where was the fun in that?
    No, he wanted this clown to suffer first. Maybe spend some time in a stinking jail cell himself. Get Lisa and every one of his friends and coworkers looking at him as a loser, a no-good. Get Lisa thinking that maybe she was better off with a real man, like Sloan.
    Then he’d have him killed.
    He told Berletti all this, and, true to form, she came up with a plan.
    “You know those two Russians we took care of last night?”
    “Yeah. What about them?”
    “Turns out Deputy Franco was the officer who handled the call.”
    “So?”
    “So what if we play with the evidence a bit and make his associates at the Sheriff’s department wonder if he did more than just answer a call?”
    Sloan smiled. “You can arrange that?”
    Berletti smiled right back, then leaned forward in her seat and kissed Sloan on the mouth. Her breath was hot and her lips tasted like apples.
    She took hold of his hand and placed it on one of those voluptuous mounds. “I can arrange anything you want, darling. All I have to do is mention your name...”

Chapter Thirteen
    When the doorbell rang, Lisa called out to Beatrice and told her she’d answer it. Chloe was awake now and wreaking havoc on a coloring book at the coffee table, so Lisa patted her head and crossed to the foyer.
    “I’ll be right back, hon.”
    When she opened the door, she was surprised and thrilled to see Rafe standing there. He was still wearing his uniform, but the car in the drive behind him was a red Mustang.
    “Is this a bad time?” he asked.
    The truth was, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Her mind was a mix of emotions—elation, concern, fear—and she still hadn’t figured out how to tell him about Chloe. Part of her just wanted to blurt it out, but another part knew that such a strategy—if you could call it one—was ill-advised.
    She had no idea where Rafe’s head was right now, and was terrified by the thought that he might not consider this welcome news.
    What exactly was she supposed to