Long Way Home
Page 62

I fall back against the wall, wrap my arms around my stomach in an effort to fight off the cold that being alone again after such warmth has created. There’s got to be another way to survive the Riot. There has to be another way that keeps my family alive and me with Chevy.
CHEVY
ROLLER COASTER.
The lows have been damn low and the highs—Violet told me she loved me. Honest to God pinched myself in the hall to confirm it wasn’t a dream. But the high is now evened out with the anger vibrating beneath my skin.
I just saw the men who hurt Violet. Just confirmed they were the ones responsible for taking us and making her bleed. I’m in a small room with a one-way mirror. Nothing to see on the other side anymore. I’ve done my job, and if Violet is up for it, she’ll be in here to point out the same assholes.
It’s tough to trust the system to do their job and grant Violet the justice she deserves. Even harder to not find a way past the glass and the police officers to pound the hell out of each and every guy who caused her to be scared. But this is how we’re playing the game. “How long will they be in prison?”
“We’re going for as long as we can get.” Detective Jake Barlow is the one who answers and it’s the first time I’ve heard him speak. He was one of the people present during the interview at the hospital, was there when Violet and I were shown pictures, but someone else always talked. He stayed in the background, hovering and listening.
He’s a commanding man, even in silence, but I understand why he’s stayed quiet. While he’s been investigating the Riot, he was never 100 percent convinced the Terror were legit. He pushed Razor on a situation regarding Razor’s mom, possibly hoping to rattle Razor into telling him something that would nail our club or the Riot. What he never expected was Razor staying true to the club.
Since the kidnapping, the Terror have shifted away from radio silence with Jake Barlow. We need him and he needs us. A mutually beneficial relationship. This guy, he’s the chief of the tribe when it comes to knowledge of the Riot and that’s what I need—knowledge.
“I’m fine with these bastards dying in prison,” Detective Barlow continues.
Amen.
“Can we talk?” I say. “Just me and you.”
He assesses me. Head to toe. The way I do to guys when I walk into Mom’s bar and I’m trying to figure out who could cause problems.
The two other people in the room look to him as to what to do, but he watches me. “Your grandfather and uncle are set that they or a lawyer be around anytime I talk with you or Violet.”
Yeah. They are. “I need to talk with you.”
From the greedy set of his eyes, he’s dying to talk alone with me. This kidnapping is a big break for him with the Riot and Eli has mentioned the detective wants more than what Violet and I are giving. Jake Barlow disagrees with the DA and he wanted us to go for prosecution for everyone involved. He wants Skull and his son’s head on a silver platter.
“He’s a minor,” the woman in the pencil suit says.
The detective nods. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have a conversation. People talk all the time. No reason he and I can’t exchange words.”
“But it does mean you may not be able to legally use whatever he says.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He motions with his chin to the door and the two other people leave. Once the door is closed tight behind them, he moves the conversation forward. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Detective Jake Barlow, but you can call me Jake.”
Lowering himself to my level by the use of a first name. It’s meant to disarm me, make me comfortable, make me easy to read.
I hitch my thumbs in my pockets and lean against the mirrored wall across from him. Won’t make the mistake of underestimating him. The badge doesn’t mean this man isn’t a master of the con. Just means he cons people for the overall good. Reading people, sleight of hand, smoke and mirrors. Heading gang task forces means working people and working people well.
“I heard you know things about my father.”
“From who?”
No reason to lie. “Skull.”
Jake nods like he understands everything I didn’t say. “Your grandfather aware you know things?”
“Yes.”
His eyebrows rise a fraction of an inch. That surprised him. “What’s he think about these things I hypothetically know?”
I shrug. “Believes they’re bull.”
“And what do you believe?”
My eyes snap to his and I’m trying to read him as hard as he’s trying to read me.
“I’m in here talking to you,” I say.
Jake loosens his tie. First time I’ve seen him do something like this. I’ve rattled him and that rattles me.
“Did Violet tell you what the Riot talked about with her when she was alone?” he asks.
My spine straightens. “I wasn’t talking about Violet.”
“No, you weren’t, but I am. Has she told you?”
Loaded question. Answering means either I’m aware the Riot did talk to her or that I also believe they said something to her.
“Want to talk like men, let’s talk like men,” he says. “Skull shouldn’t have known that I know, which means I got people who shouldn’t be talking—talking. I’m not going to lie. You just gave me a ton to work with and possibly saved my ass and my case. You don’t owe me this answer, but whether you believe it or not, I’m fighting for you two kids and I’m fighting hard. I’ve been doing this a long time and I know when people are hiding something from me and I also know when they’re scared. That girl you just kissed, she’s hiding something and she’s scared.”