February
“Don’t say anything. Let me do the talking. These allegations are hearsay from a rich little shit whose mommy and daddy are trying to shift the blame from themselves and their son for the tragic death of that poor girl. We have Kimber’s statement and phone records. Sheena’s parents don’t even blame you. They know you had nothing to do with what happened to their beloved daughter. The detective will see their smoke and mirrors for what they are. A distraction. This is a waste of time and money. It’s never going to stick.”
“Right.” I nod as we enter the police station.
I’ve put this shit off as long as I could. That pencil dick Kimber dated told the cops that I sold him and his friends the drugs found in Sheena’s toxicology report. There’s no proof and right now it’s the stupid fuck’s word against mine.
We’re taken to an integration room immediately. Of course, Justice Masters is front and center of the investigation. Dude really has a hard on for the club. He’s got to be eating this shit up right now.
I take my seat.
“Can we get you guys some coffee?” Justice smiles his oily sleazeball grin at me.
“We’ll pass.”
“Mr. Navarro, can you tell me the nature of your relationship with a woman by the name of Wendy Peterson?”
I keep my reaction cool, calm, and completely collected. Wendy Peterson is Bambi’s real name. Her body was found a week after New Year’s Eve. Bad weather and wildlife in the area have proved difficult for the medical examiner’s office and as far as I know the toxicology reports aren’t back. They do speculate that her death is connected with Mariah Granger’s since both women were dancers at the Kitty Kat. The strip club I also happen to be a bouncer at. I’m not an idiot. It doesn’t bode well for me or the club, but whatever evidence they think they have it isn’t enough to actually bring me in on.
“I have a question for you, Detective?”
“What would you like to know, Jerrica?”
“That’s Ms. Danvers to you.”
His face pales but he quickly corrects himself. “What can I do for you, Ms. Danvers?”
“I think you may want to stop recording for this conversation.”
He makes an annoyed face but turns the recorder off.
“Where are you at on looking into if your nephew…what’s his name—Joseph has access to his father’s pharmacy? He ever go there after school or even after hours? Have either of those boys ever gone to a strip club called Kitty Kat? I have a source who tells me that they have photos of both Brodix and Joseph with a Miss Wendy Peterson also known as Bambi. I’d like to make you aware that if you continue to pursue my client, I am prepared to file a harassment suit against the department and make it well known how conflicted your interests are due to your family connection. We all know that Brodix and Joseph are thick as thieves and Sheena isn’t their first victim. There are other girls willing to testify that these boys have date raped them more than once. It wouldn’t be too hard to connect the dots that these boys are used to getting what they want when they want. And their families aren’t above using their connections to tip the scales of justice in their favor by greasing the palm of a family member.” She pauses. “Now if you have no further questions for my client we’ll be leaving.”
Damn. Jerrica don’t fuck around.
“We’re finished here.” Detective Masters shoots me a dirty look and opens the door.
“That’s what I thought. Let’s go, Austin. It reeks of bullshit in here.”
“I know you had something to do with the death of Wendy Peterson and possibly Mariah Granger. I can’t prove it, but I’ll be watching you.”
“That sounds like a threat, Detective,” Jerrica warns.
I grab a beer from the cooler and twist the cap off. Fuck me. I’m glad that shit is over with. I take a heavy pull from the bottle. Freedom never tasted better.
“Prospect,” Murder growls from the other end of the bar looking particularly grumpier than usual. “Church. Now,” his voice booms over the rock music playing in the background.
I down the rest of my beer and toss my empty into a trash can. I never get included in Church because I’m a prospect. I don’t know what to expect, but I follow him into the room reserved for the club meetings. The door shuts behind me as Prez takes his seat at the head of the table. All the brothers are already seated or leaning against the wall. No one is meeting my gaze and dirty looks pass between them. The air is tense, and I don’t have a good feeling about this shit.
“We’ve all been talking, son. I put you to the test these past few months. We’ve all watched how you represented your club. Gotta say…” he looks at the table where the club’s insignia is carved. A bearded skull wearing a crown with twin motorcycles on either side. Laying there in the middle of the table is a cut and patches.
“Welcome to the club, you son of a bitch.” Viking slaps me on the back as everyone moves to gather around me. Some brothers giving me light taps while others like Link knock the fuck out me. He’s been cool with Kimber and me, but I suspect he’s not gonna warm up to me anytime soon.
“Call the whores. Time to welcome this cocksucker properly,” Murder announces, and I cut my gaze to him. “It is Valentine’s Day after all. The day for lovers.” He chuckles.
“Appreciate it, Prez, but not my style.”
“Look at him. Brother is pussy whipped,” Sandman puts in.
“That’s my niece you’re talking about, fucker. Say it again. Dare you.”
“If he doesn’t want’em I’ll take’m.” Smoke grins and Prodigy high fives him.
“Cool it,” Prez grumbles.
“Hope you can sew,” Hound says, and presses my cut and patches against my chest.