Authors: Adams,Claire
CHAPTER
THIRTY-SEVEN
Around
noon, I came up from the apartment and stood at the bar discussing our next
move with Kesha, when all of a sudden, there was a loud bang on the door and a
wave of police officers dressed in combat gear with guns drawn, flooded through
the door yelling, "LAPD SWAT TEAM! HANDS IN THE AIR! PUT YOUR FUCKING
HANDS IN THE AIR! DO NOT FUCKING MOVE!"
Kesha's eyes were
wide with terror as she quickly raised her hands above her head and stood
stock-still. I turned and raised my hands a little more slowly; I wasn't
intimidated by this show of force. After surviving Papi's warrior raids,
nothing this small could ruffle my feathers.
"Good
afternoon, gentlemen," I said smiling.
"Shut the
fuck up, Malone," the commander said as she pulled out her cuffs, yanked
my hands out of the air, and cuffed them behind my back.
"And
lady," I added as an afterthought.
"Kesha, call
Riza and have her get in touch with my lawyer," I said calmly.
"I heard you
don't have a lawyer anymore, Malone," the commander said with a sarcastic
smile. "Heard you had her executed and dumped in the drink. Kind of
screwed yourself, now didn't you?"
"No, I have a
lawyer," I said. "Kesha, call Riza and tell her to contact Brooke
Raines. She'll know what to do."
"If I were a
lawyer, I'd be hesitant to take on your case," the commander said as she
yanked me by the cuffs and shoved me toward the front door. "Price of
doing business with you seems kind of high."
She shoved me in
the back of the arrest wagon and then told the driver and his partner to take
me down to Central Booking where I'd be booked and scheduled for an arraignment
hearing. The officer rolled his eyes and barked, "Yes, sir! I mean,
ma'am!" before driving off toward the station.
I sat in back and
thought about all the holes I might have left. I would probably have to plead
to a drug charge, but that would be a pretty minor offense, since we'd moved
most of the product off site as soon as the storage facility had been broken
into. I might be charged as an accessory to murder, depending on who had
actually killed Lydia, but there was no evidence that I'd had anything to do
with her murder because as far as I knew, I really hadn't.
Unless someone was
trying to frame me. That possibility crept into my brain and as I turned it
over, I wondered if all of this wasn't an attempt to frame me for Lydia's
murder. It was all too convenient. The break in, the theft, and the police raid
all pointed to an inside informant, but who would have a grudge that they'd
work out this way? I quickly scrolled down the list of people I employed, but I
couldn't think of one who'd be harboring a grudge big enough to want to frame
me for murder.
Except maybe Beck.
But that made no sense; Beck was a drug-addled junkie who couldn't figure out
how to get his next fix without help from an outside source. There was no way
he was the mastermind behind a murder. And, he wouldn't do that to his own
brother, would he? Would he?
They photographed,
fingerprinted, and booked me before throwing me in a small cell at the back of
the station. I sat quietly on a bench, waiting to be told what was next. I
hoped that Kesha had called Riza because otherwise I was up shit creek without
a paddle. I couldn't afford to let a PD get a hold of my case; they'd hang me
out to dry. My hopes were pinned on a blonde-haired, blue-eyed attorney who I'd
really hoped I’d be waking up next to this morning.
I sighed as I
closed my eyes and replayed the night before, waiting for word from Riza. This
was going to be a long day.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
Teddy
had just left my office when I heard Alma yelling, "Ma'am! Come back here!
Ma'am, Miss Raines is in a meeting! You'll need to wait in the lobby while I
notify her of your presence! Ma'am! I'm calling security!"
"Go ahead and
call, you old biddy," a voice growled outside my door seconds before it
was flung open and a tall, dark-haired woman stepped through it.
"Hey! You
don't belong here!" I shouted.
"Miss Raines,
I'm calling building security!" Alma yelled over the intercom. "We
have an intruder!"
"You Brooke
Raines?" the woman asked.
"Yes, who are
you?" I asked.
"Riza D'Oro,
Dax Malone sent me to find you," she said. "He's in trouble and needs
your help."
"Wait,
what?" I said, confused by the woman's statement. "Dax sent
you?"
"Yeah, he was
arrested by the police an hour ago, and he said you're his lawyer," she
said. When no further explanation was forthcoming, I probed for more
information.
"When did he
say I was his attorney?" I asked.
"Dunno, Kesha
said he told her to call me and tell me to find you and bring you to Central
Booking," she shrugged. "I'm just doing what he asked."
"Miss Raines,
security is on its way!" Alma yelled into the intercom. "Hold on,
they're coming to rescue you!"
"Hold on a
moment," I signaled to Riza. Then pressed the intercom button and said,
"It's okay, Alma, you can call off security. Riza is here about a client,
she just didn't know how our system works."
"Are you
sure?" came Alma's response.
"Absolutely,"
I assured her. The silence on the other end let me know that Alma once again
had the office under control.
"Now, Miss
D'Oro, you said that Mr. Malone needs a lawyer and I am the one he designated
as such," I said. "Is this correct?"
"Yes, but
call me Riza, I hate that formal shit," she said as she shifted nervously
and looked around the office. "You sure you know what you're doing?"
"If you're
asking if I'm an experienced criminal lawyer, then yes, I know exactly what I'm
doing," I assured her. "But if you're asking whether I know what the
hell is going on, Riza, then I'll have to be honest with you and say no, I
don't have a clue what the fuck is going on."
An amused smile
briefly flashed across Riza's face and she stopped shifting as I bent down to
gather up my briefcase and purse. Once I had what I thought I might need, I
looked at her and said, "So, are you going to fill me in or am I going to
have to wait until I see Mr. Malone?"
"I'm here to
give you a ride to booking, but there's no way in hell I'm gonna speak for
Dax," she said shaking her head. "He’d fucking kill me if I told you
anything he didn't want you to know."
"Well, you do
understand that now that I'm his lawyer, I'm going to need to know everything,
right?" I asked.
"Yeah, well,
better safe than sorry, I always say," she said grimly as she headed out
the door and down the hall.
"Alma, could
you please call Jordie and Roger? Tell them I'm on my way down to Central and
that they should meet me there in thirty minutes."
"Yes, Miss
Raines," she said as she gave Riza a suspicious look. "Consider it
done."
On the way out to
the door, Riza looked at me and commented, "We all have our second in
command, don't we?"
"Indeed, we
do, Riza," I smiled. "Indeed we do."
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
When
the cops threw me in the cell, the first thing I thought of was Brooke. I
needed her to come bail me out and I needed to see her face. I needed her help
in finding out what I was being accused of and why I was taking the fall for
something I clearly hadn't done.
I knew it would be
hours before they'd let me see my lawyer, so I sat down on the metal bench and
slid back so that I was leaning against the cement wall. I surveyed my
cellmates to make sure I wasn't being set up, and once I was sure that the drunk
in the corner presented no threat, I let my mind wander back to Brooke and her
warm body. There was something about her that was unlike any other woman I'd
ever met. She was strong, smart, and not easily intimidated. I needed her in my
corner to fight this charge, but I knew it was more than that.
I needed Brooke,
the woman. My thoughts quickly shifted to the memory of her soft, warm body
pressed against mine and the look on her face as she climaxed in my arms. She
was unique in that her tough exterior hid a soft interior that she didn't seem
to show many people. Her layers of defense were as strong and solid as my own,
but she had a softness that I both envied and wanted. In my arms, she was the
most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and out of them, she was tougher than
nails. I needed her.
The problem now
was that when she showed up to defend me, I was going to have to tell her the
truth and I wasn't sure that she could take it. She had no idea what I really
did for a living, and I wasn't entirely sure that after she learned the truth,
she would want to have anything more to do with me. I knew she'd take my case
and fight for justice, but at what price?
I needed someone
as smart and stubborn as Lydia had been. But as I turned the case over in my
head, I couldn't see how Brooke would want anything more than a lawyer-client
relationship with me once she learned the truth. I ran my hand through my hair
and rubbed the stubble on my chin as I turned it over and over in my mind, but
was unable to come up with any good outcome.
"Motherfucker!
You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" screamed a voice that sounded
like its owner was being dragged down the hall to the holding cell. "Screw
you all! Fuckers!"
I looked up just
in time to see two officers unlocking the cell door and tossing my brother
inside. I took one look at him lying on the floor throwing a fit and knew he
was high.
"Get the fuck
up and stop acting like a little bitch, Beck," I growled. His head snapped
up, eyes wide with a haunted look around the edges.
"Dax?"
he whispered. "Is that you or am I hallucinating?"
"No, it's me,
you dumbass," I said as I stood up and offered my hand. "Get up off
the damn floor, you junkie."
"Dax, they're
killing me," he whispered as he took my hand and I pulled him to his feet.
"No, they're
not killing you, little brother," I said shaking my head slowly.
"You're doing a fine job all by yourself."
"You're one
of them," he said as he narrowed his eyes and looked me over. "You're
on their side. You're going to kill me for them."
"Beck, quit
being a total idiot and listen to me," I said in an exasperated tone. I'd
had enough of his junkie drama and I wanted him to stop. "You're high as a
kite. Where did you get the stuff?"
"I'm not
telling you," he pouted. "You'll kill my source."
"Listen, you
little dumbass," I said as I moved my face within inches of my brother's.
"I want to know right fucking now where you got the drugs. Your two
choices are tell me or don't tell me. But I will warn you that if you don't
tell me, I will wipe the floor with your ass."
"Fuck
you," he spit at me as he turned toward the wall. I grabbed him and with
one hand, spun him back around so he was facing me. Then, I grabbed a handful
of his shirt and twisted it so that I could pull his face toward mine.
"Beck, this
is your last chance, brother," I warned. "You tell me where you got
your stash or I am going to pound your ass into a pulp and leave you here to
rot in this cell."
He stared at me
through stoned eyes and tried to process what I was saying. I could see the
wheels turning and, after a minute of silent staring, he finally opened his
mouth and spoke. "You're not going to like it."
"Tell me
anyway," I said unamused.
"I got the
stuff from Riza," he said.
"You fucking
liar," I said through clenched teeth. "Lie about anything, but don't
you dare fucking lie about her."
"I told you
that you wouldn't like it." He shrugged with a lopsided smile. Then, with
a serious look, he asked, "Are you gonna kill me now?"
"Beck, why
would Riza give you drugs?" I asked. If he was going to lie, I wanted to
follow the lie to its logical conclusion.
"Because I
asked," he said matter-of-factly.
"Bullshit,"
I said as I gripped his shirt tighter. "She knows better than to give you
drugs. Why are you lying?"
"I'm not
lying, Dax," he said, in a voice that immediately slammed me back into the
past. A store owner on San Pedro had accused Beck of stealing candy bars. And
when I'd found Beck cowering in the back storage area of our grandmother's
store, crying as he held a bag of frozen vegetables on the spot on his face
where the shop owner had hit him, I yelled at him for stealing. He'd looked at
me that same way he was looking at me now and swore that he wasn't lying. I
hadn't believed him at the time, but later, when I'd investigated the incident,
I found out that he had been telling the truth. The storeowner had wrongly
accused and punished him for a crime he didn't commit. From that day on, I
vowed to believe my brother when he told me he wasn't lying.
I had to remind
myself that this wasn't a sober Beck. This was the Beck who was shooting up and
who would do anything for a fix. This was junkie Beck talking, so I wasn't
entirely sure if I should believe him, even though I wanted to. I pulled him
over to the bench and propped him up against the wall.
"Just sit
there until the lawyer gets here," I ordered.
"Why you
always gotta be so bossy?" Beck asked as he leaned against the wall lost
in his high.
"Because I'm
your older brother," I said gruffly. "That's what I do."
"That's
good," he smiled as he slipped into his chemically altered mind.
I stood watch over
him until the officer came and told me my lawyer was here to see me. I took a
deep breath and steeled myself as I prepared to tell Brooke the truth.