“They saved me from that monster,” she whispers. “I was out jogging one morning, and he snatched me.”
“And what about Beau? He’s still up for murder charges. You send him forward, and I’ll consider your story.”
No.
My knees begin to shake as reality hits me. Krypt, back in jail. No. I turn to Maddox, my eyes welling with tears. How the hell can we get away with this? We have proof for everything else, but Krypt killing Johan cannot be faked.
“Where are your witnesses who proved Beau killed that man?”
The voice comes from the group of bikers standing to the left. An older man comes out, his long grey beard swishing. I’ve seen him around the club, though he hardly says a great deal. Maddox told me he’s a family member of his and has cancer but he’s refusing treatment, so he’s just spending his last days at the club. His name is Whiskey, and he’s at least seventy years old.
The officer turns and stares at him. “Until the investigation is finished we need to—”
“How many fuckin’ witnesses?”
“It was a chaotic time; gunshots, people were forced down, no security . . . It hasn’t been easy. We’ve had numerous different stories, and it’s come up that some of the shots came from outside the café. We are investigating this. Enough people have come forward and said Beau was there with a gun, he made them lay on the floor—”
“Yeah, but did they fuckin’ see him pull the trigger?”
“At this point we can’t share any of that-”
“Bull-fuckin’-shit!”
“He was the only one in that café.”
“Wrong,” the old man says. “I was there too, and I was the one who pulled the trigger. If you’ve done your job properly you should know that. In fact, if you’re a good cop at all, you would have noticed Beau didn’t have a gun on him when you arrived.”
The cop studies him. I smother a gasp, because it makes sense to me now why Whiskey took Beau’s gun before he got arrested. Had he planned on turning himself in all along, even though he didn’t commit the crime? Why wouldn’t he have come forward earlier?
Whiskey continues. “He didn’t have it because it was me that pulled the trigger. I came back into the café; Beau already had the people on the ground. I saw that no good son-of-a-bitch sittin’ there tauntin’ him, and I wrestled the gun from Beau’s hand and shot him right in the head. You raided the clubhouse; you’ve got the gun, do you not? If you do, you’ll have seen my finger prints on it.”
“Yes, but-”
“Yes but nothin’. I shot Johan Reed, and I shot him because I know what he did to my boy. I know what he fuckin’ did and I made him pay for it. However, he was the only one I shot. I did not kill the other members of his family, and neither did Beau...but you know that, too. Don’t ya?”
I gasp, and so does Maddox from behind me.
“You understand that you’re confessing to the murder of Johan Reed, and that you’ll go to prison for a very long time?”
“I know what I’m sayin’, pig. I’m not a fuckin’ idiot. I killed Johan Reed. I wasn’t there when you arrived because I was chasin’ the fuckers that made the other shots.”
“Why not speak up earlier?”
“Because I was cleanin’ shit up—needed to make sure things would be good for my family when I got locked up. Then shit went down with Beau, and you know what happened from there . . .”
It’s not much of an answer, but he’s a biker. He isn’t going to give much more.
The door swings open and Krypt storms out, charging down towards the man. Whiskey’s hands wrap around Krypt’s shoulders, stopping him. He says something that has Krypt’s fists clenching. The officers pull Krypt off before taking Whiskey and cuffing him.
“You’re under the arrest for the murder of Johan Reed. Anything you say or do will be used against you in the court of law.”
“Yeah, fuckin’ yeah,” he snorts.
Tears run down my cheeks, because I know what this man is doing for Krypt. He’s giving him freedom. The officer turns to Krypt.
“You’re under arrest too.”
“What fuckin’ for?” Krypt snarls.
“At this stage, we will need evidence to back up this claim. You escaped from prison, and we need to ensure your involvement in that was nonexistent. Then, if the old man’s story checks out, you will be released with conditions.”
My tears get heavier as Krypt’s gazes turns to me. “I’m comin’ back, baby.”
I nod as a hand squeezes my arm. It’s Maddox.
“We’ll get him outta there.”
“I know,” I croak as the officer pushes both men into the car. “We need to take those guards down, Maddox. We need proof they’re corrupt.”
“Only one way to do that, honey,” he murmurs. “You’re going to make a visit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
My heart pounds as I approach Tristan’s front door. I don’t know if this will work, but it’s worth a shot. To get evidence on Howard is next to impossible; the man is smart. But what he didn’t consider in his plan was that I am close to Tristan, and all I need is a confession from him. Maddox and the guys are close, in case anything goes wrong.
This was Maddox’s plan, and I’ll admit it’s a clever one. If it works. I have a recorder in my pocket, so tiny it’s barely noticeable. Maddox didn’t want wires, because he had no doubt Tristan would ask. I raise my hand and knock on the door, then I take a step back.
“And what about Beau? He’s still up for murder charges. You send him forward, and I’ll consider your story.”
No.
My knees begin to shake as reality hits me. Krypt, back in jail. No. I turn to Maddox, my eyes welling with tears. How the hell can we get away with this? We have proof for everything else, but Krypt killing Johan cannot be faked.
“Where are your witnesses who proved Beau killed that man?”
The voice comes from the group of bikers standing to the left. An older man comes out, his long grey beard swishing. I’ve seen him around the club, though he hardly says a great deal. Maddox told me he’s a family member of his and has cancer but he’s refusing treatment, so he’s just spending his last days at the club. His name is Whiskey, and he’s at least seventy years old.
The officer turns and stares at him. “Until the investigation is finished we need to—”
“How many fuckin’ witnesses?”
“It was a chaotic time; gunshots, people were forced down, no security . . . It hasn’t been easy. We’ve had numerous different stories, and it’s come up that some of the shots came from outside the café. We are investigating this. Enough people have come forward and said Beau was there with a gun, he made them lay on the floor—”
“Yeah, but did they fuckin’ see him pull the trigger?”
“At this point we can’t share any of that-”
“Bull-fuckin’-shit!”
“He was the only one in that café.”
“Wrong,” the old man says. “I was there too, and I was the one who pulled the trigger. If you’ve done your job properly you should know that. In fact, if you’re a good cop at all, you would have noticed Beau didn’t have a gun on him when you arrived.”
The cop studies him. I smother a gasp, because it makes sense to me now why Whiskey took Beau’s gun before he got arrested. Had he planned on turning himself in all along, even though he didn’t commit the crime? Why wouldn’t he have come forward earlier?
Whiskey continues. “He didn’t have it because it was me that pulled the trigger. I came back into the café; Beau already had the people on the ground. I saw that no good son-of-a-bitch sittin’ there tauntin’ him, and I wrestled the gun from Beau’s hand and shot him right in the head. You raided the clubhouse; you’ve got the gun, do you not? If you do, you’ll have seen my finger prints on it.”
“Yes, but-”
“Yes but nothin’. I shot Johan Reed, and I shot him because I know what he did to my boy. I know what he fuckin’ did and I made him pay for it. However, he was the only one I shot. I did not kill the other members of his family, and neither did Beau...but you know that, too. Don’t ya?”
I gasp, and so does Maddox from behind me.
“You understand that you’re confessing to the murder of Johan Reed, and that you’ll go to prison for a very long time?”
“I know what I’m sayin’, pig. I’m not a fuckin’ idiot. I killed Johan Reed. I wasn’t there when you arrived because I was chasin’ the fuckers that made the other shots.”
“Why not speak up earlier?”
“Because I was cleanin’ shit up—needed to make sure things would be good for my family when I got locked up. Then shit went down with Beau, and you know what happened from there . . .”
It’s not much of an answer, but he’s a biker. He isn’t going to give much more.
The door swings open and Krypt storms out, charging down towards the man. Whiskey’s hands wrap around Krypt’s shoulders, stopping him. He says something that has Krypt’s fists clenching. The officers pull Krypt off before taking Whiskey and cuffing him.
“You’re under the arrest for the murder of Johan Reed. Anything you say or do will be used against you in the court of law.”
“Yeah, fuckin’ yeah,” he snorts.
Tears run down my cheeks, because I know what this man is doing for Krypt. He’s giving him freedom. The officer turns to Krypt.
“You’re under arrest too.”
“What fuckin’ for?” Krypt snarls.
“At this stage, we will need evidence to back up this claim. You escaped from prison, and we need to ensure your involvement in that was nonexistent. Then, if the old man’s story checks out, you will be released with conditions.”
My tears get heavier as Krypt’s gazes turns to me. “I’m comin’ back, baby.”
I nod as a hand squeezes my arm. It’s Maddox.
“We’ll get him outta there.”
“I know,” I croak as the officer pushes both men into the car. “We need to take those guards down, Maddox. We need proof they’re corrupt.”
“Only one way to do that, honey,” he murmurs. “You’re going to make a visit.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
My heart pounds as I approach Tristan’s front door. I don’t know if this will work, but it’s worth a shot. To get evidence on Howard is next to impossible; the man is smart. But what he didn’t consider in his plan was that I am close to Tristan, and all I need is a confession from him. Maddox and the guys are close, in case anything goes wrong.
This was Maddox’s plan, and I’ll admit it’s a clever one. If it works. I have a recorder in my pocket, so tiny it’s barely noticeable. Maddox didn’t want wires, because he had no doubt Tristan would ask. I raise my hand and knock on the door, then I take a step back.
