The Price of Cash Read online

  The Price of Cash

  Cash Braddock’s summer started bad and it’s getting worse. Her suppliers keep getting arrested. Her competition is poaching all her customers. Laurel isn’t who Cash thought she was. And her farm is under a microscope, which makes money laundering difficult.

  There’s a new dealer on Cash’s turf. When kids start dying from the dealer’s pills, Detective Kallen turns to Cash for answers. Turns out her reputation for selling pills doesn’t make her an expert. It makes her a suspect. Cash preferred it when she knew which cops were bad and good.

  Last time, her business and reputation were on the line. Now, she’s got to worry about staying out of jail. And stay alive.

  Second in the Cash Braddock series.

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  What Reviewers Say About Ashley Bartlett’s Work

  By the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  About the Author

  Books Available from Bold Strokes Books

  What Reviewers Say About Ashley Bartlett’s Work

  Dirty Sex

  “A young, new author, Ashley Bartlett definitely should be on your radar. She’s a really fresh, unique voice in a sea of good authors. …I found [Dirty Sex] to be flawless. The characters are deep and the action fast-paced. The romance feels real, not contrived. There are no fat, padded scenes, but no skimpy ones either. It’s told in a strong first-person voice that speaks of the author’s and her character’s youth, but serves up surprisingly mature revelations.”—Out in Print

  Dirty Money

  “Bartlett has exquisite taste when it comes to selecting the right detail. And no matter how much plot she has to get through, she never rushes the game. Her writing is so well-paced and so self-assured, she should be twice as old as she really is. That self-assuredness also mirrors through to her characters, who are fully realized and totally believable.”—Out in Print

  “Bartlett has succeeded in giving us a mad-cap story that will keep the reader turning page after page to see what happens next.”

  —Lambda Literary

  Dirty Power

  “Bartlett’s talents are many. She knows her way around an action scene, she writes memorably hot sex, her plots are seamless, and her characters are true and deep. And if that wasn’t enough, Coop’s voice is so genuine, so world-weary, jaded, and outrageously sarcastic that if Bartlett had none of the aforementioned attributes, the read would still be entertaining enough to stretch over three books.”—Out in Print

  Cash Braddock

  “There were moments I laughed out loud, pop culture references that I adored and parts I cringed because I’m a good girl and Cash is kind of bad. I relished the moments that Laurel and Cash spent alone. These two are really a good match and their chemistry just jumps off the page. Playful, serious and sarcastic all rolled into one harmonious pairing. The story is great, the characters are fantastic and the twist, well, I never saw it coming.”—The Romantic Reader

  The Price of Cash

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  eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  The Price of Cash

  © 2017 By Ashley Bartlett. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-62639-709-5

  This Electronic Original is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, NY 12185

  First Edition: November 2017

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editor: Cindy Cresap

  Production Design: Susan Ramundo

  Cover Design By Megan Tillman

  By the Author

  Sex & Skateboards

  Dirty Trilogy

  Dirty Sex

  Dirty Money

  Dirty Power

  Cash Braddock Series

  Cash Braddock

  The Price of Cash

  Acknowledgments

  There are no moral absolutes. No one, nothing is ever entirely right or wrong. We don’t tend to reach that realization until we are far past childhood, far past the decisions we might have made otherwise if we had known.

  This book is about stasis. The moment when you realize that some people will never understand you, never empathize with you, never entirely see you. It is about the panic that washes through you and suddenly you think the only solution is to freeze. If you don’t move, then maybe you’ll never have to admit that you are misunderstood. That your concept of right and their concept of wrong have aligned and one of you must falter. As Cash finds in this book, the truly paralyzing moments are those when someone else has the relative high ground.

  I spent a lot of time avoiding writing this book while I was supposed to be writing this book. My haiku game has certainly improved, which is entirely unhelpful in novel writing. Carsen, you’re the reason I finished writing (not the haiku, the novel). Between the numerous pep talks, your inexplicable need to use the telephone, and your talent for finding inventive ways to break the law, you saved me. Thank you.

  Bold Strokes has been my home since I was a tiny tot. Every time they send a contract, I think they’ve lost their damn minds. So thanks, Rad and Sandy, for not being sane. Cindy, I’ll probably never forgive you for inflating my ego. I’m not sure what you were thinking.

  And you, my audience. Thanks for coming back even when logic and propriety suggest you should go the other way. Cash and I couldn’t do it without you.

  Dedication

  For my wife.

  My moral center might be off,

  but at least it’s the same as yours.

  Chapter One

  Laurel’s hands were under my shirt. The tips of her fingers dug intricate, meaningless patterns across my stomach. Her thigh pressed between my legs in the most delicious way. My neck tingled where her lips brushed against my skin.

  “We need to make the deal out back. It’s too crowded in here. The audio will be worthless,” she whispered in my ear. Detective Kallen had a way of really killing my pseudo mood.

  I did my best to make it look like Laurel was whispering dirty, sexy plans for the evening. Jason was staring at us from across the table. He was grinning in that bro way
. Like he was about to break out the high fives. Our act was clearly working.

  It wasn’t difficult to play the lie when Laurel had me so turned on that my boxer briefs were soaked. The hard part was convincing her that my arousal was just an act. When I was finished with that lie, I planned on convincing myself.

  “Babe, babe. Slow down.” I gripped her wrists and pulled her hands out of my shirt. “I think we need to cool off.”

  Laurel grinned at me. “You’re too easy.”

  “You’re cruel.” I kissed her. Softly. The kind of kiss that was a promise. She groaned, then stifled it. “Let’s head outside. I can’t think in here.”

  Laurel rolled her eyes and led the way out back. Jason grabbed his backpack and shook his head. Laurel kept my hand firmly in her grasp, which had a lot more to do with staying in range of the wire she was wearing than intimacy.

  “How do you do it?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Get chicks to want you like that?”

  “Secret lesbian power. Can’t tell you.” I bumped him with my shoulder. I almost felt bad. But I was selfish. Better him than me.

  Laurel chose a table on the far end of the patio. It was darker, quieter out here. She sat at the far side of the table. I slid to the back, which left Jason sitting with his back to the next table and a Latino guy in his early forties. Lucas Reyes. Kallen’s partner.

  I reminded myself that Jason had screwed me over once. Years ago, when I was just getting started. I hadn’t gotten a solid supply line yet. He offered to hook me up with a doctor at a clinic in Elk Grove. After the first few shipments, I realized he was taking a finder’s fee he hadn’t mentioned. I was paying three times the street rate. When I confronted him, the supply suddenly dried up.

  It wasn’t an uncommon business practice. I’d been pissed at the time, but that faded. My dirty sheriff, Henry, became much more adept at stealing from the evidence locker. That was before he lost his shit and tried to kill Kallen. And me. Henry was a dick.

  Now, Jason stuck to the south side of the county. I stuck to the north. And we didn’t mess with each other’s supply lines. Until tonight. He’d been cool when I called to explain that my guy had disappeared. Offered a rate born of belated mutual respect.

  I tried to recapture my earlier anger, but it was worthless. I couldn’t dilute my guilt with a grudge that was half a decade old.

  Jason settled into his seat, leaned forward a little. Enough for privacy, but not enough for intimidation. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know,” I said.

  “I thought your guy was solid.”

  “Same. He was off the last few months. Just jumpy, you know? Nervous. And then, gone.” I snapped my fingers.

  “And you don’t know why?” Jason seemed intrigued, not skeptical.

  Laurel sighed and gave me a look. I sighed and sent the look right back to her. “No.”

  “What?” Jason asked.

  I waved my hand like it was her show. “Whatever.”

  Laurel leaned closer to Jason. “I think he was supplying someone else.”

  “That’s cold.” Jason shook his head. “You sure you didn’t off him?” He grinned at me.

  I laughed. “Believe me, I’d love to smack the shit out of him, but no. He’d be much more useful to me alive. Asshole left me in a tight spot.”

  “I feel that.” Jason set his backpack on the table. “This will hold you over, but it will take a while to set up something steady.”

  “You mind?” I pointed at the bag. He shook his head. I unzipped it and looked inside. It held three quart-size Ziplocs filled with pills. Blue and white. Another bag was half-full of faint orange.

  Jason outlined his terms. He was still overcharging me a little. I pushed back to make it look real, but I wasn’t trying very hard. Laurel played the role of bored girlfriend beautifully. So beautifully I had to remove her hands from my body three times before stopping my conversation with Jason.

  “Babe.” I gave her a stern look.

  She knocked off a couple of IQ points and pouted. “What?”

  “We’re having a discussion.” I nodded at Jason.

  “Wrap it up.” Kallen leaned close and placed a line of delicate kisses down my throat. Clearly, we had gathered enough evidence to satisfy her.

  “Sorry, man. Would love to stay,” I said to Jason.

  “No worries.” Jason grinned. I slid an envelope across the table. Jason counted the money and pocketed it. “Pleasure doing business with you.” He held out his hand. I shook it and shouldered the backpack of drugs.

  “Come on.” Laurel tugged my shirt to pull me toward the gate leading to the street.

  Before we could open the gate, a uniformed officer stepped into view on the opposite side. Kallen shot me a look. Jason hesitated. I just opened the gate and kept walking.

  “Excuse me.” The officer stepped in front of us.

  Laurel and I looked at each other. We shared a moment of perfect understanding, then sprinted in opposite directions.

  Jason took off half a second behind us. He shouted a stream of curses as the uniform tackled him. There was a dull thud as another cop landed on top of them.

  I took a quick right down an alleyway. Pounding footsteps echoed behind me. They were moving a lot faster than I was. Running had never been my thing. I wondered briefly how much they had told the uniforms on this detail. The chances that they had been told I was an informant were slim. This was going to hurt. I spared a glance at my pursuer. It was Reyes. I stopped running.

  “Christ, Braddock. Why are you making me run?” Reyes bent at the waist and did some heavy breathing.

  I leaned against the fence that ran the length of the alley and worked on my own breathing exercises. “I didn’t know it was you.” I dropped the backpack of evidence between us.

  “You’re lucky. The guy chasing Kallen just failed his detective exam and is pissed.” He straightened and shot me a grin.

  “Does he know she’s a detective?”

  Reyes nodded. “He went through the academy with her brother. They didn’t get along.”

  I laughed, then felt mildly guilty. “It will look realistic, at least.”

  “On that note.” He spun his finger in a circle. “Hands behind your back.”

  “Can’t you punch me first? I have a reputation.”

  “I’m not punching you.”

  “Please?”

  “Not a chance.” He pulled a set of cuffs from under the back of his jacket.

  I shook my head. Cops were such assholes. “Give me a sec.” I rubbed my palm against the side of my head until the pomade loosened up. When it felt sufficiently disheveled, I spun and put my hands behind my back. “All right, Detective.”

  “You’re a jackass.” He tightened the cuff on one of my wrists.

  “I respectfully disagree.” A curl fell onto my forehead. I blew it off. The second cuff clicked shut. “Don’t go so tight.”

  “Sorry. Authenticity.” Somehow, I doubted his reasoning. Reyes grabbed the backpack in one hand and gripped the handcuffs with the other to guide me.

  By the time we got back to the bar, Jason was already in the back of a cruiser. Kallen and two uniforms were half a block in the other direction. She looked small between them. Every few steps, she would jerk her arm out of the grip of the blond cop on her right. Her nose was bleeding. Blood was smeared across the forearm of the guy she was clearly trying to get away from.

  “Looks like they went a little too realistic,” I said quietly.

  “Yeah. I think I’ll go intervene. Can I hand you off to a uniform?”

  “Don’t. She wouldn’t want you to.” I didn’t take the time to analyze why I cared about Laurel’s feelings. They weren’t my business anymore.

  Reyes sighed, but didn’t hand me off. He opened the back door of his Crown Vic. I was about to duck in when Reyes went stiff. I followed his gaze. The blond cop was on the ground. Laurel was smirking as the o
ther cop dragged her away.

  “What the hell is she doing?” Reyes asked.

  I looked around. The other uniforms were hustling to help get Laurel into a car. Jason caught my eye. He looked a little terrified, but he was laughing his ass off. He mouthed “badass” and started shaking his head. I grinned at him and shrugged. Reyes put his hand on my head and shoved me the rest of the way into the car.

  A few minutes later, Reyes got behind the wheel. He waited until the cruiser carrying Jason had a decent start before turning on the car.

  “You want me to drop you at home?” We pulled into the street.

  “I don’t need to stop by the station?” Not that I was complaining about getting these cuffs off sooner rather than later.

  “We will need your statement, but it can wait. I have a feeling we’ll be tied up for most of the evening.”

  “Is Kallen going to have issues with that blond cop?”

  Reyes shrugged. “Oakley didn’t like her before. So no more than usual.”

  He was lying, but I didn’t want to push it. No, I didn’t need to push it. Laurel wasn’t my concern. “You want to drop me on Twentieth? I’ll walk from there.”

  We cut over a few blocks and Reyes pulled into an alley. He opened the door and I slid to the edge of the seat. I stood against the car while he loosened the cuffs.

  “Either Kallen or I will call you in the morning. Try not to get arrested tonight.”

  I turned and leaned back on the trunk. Reyes huffed and rolled his eyes when I rubbed at the red mark ringing one of my wrists. “Generally, I try not to get arrested. It’s not my fault you guys have all of these standards.”