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“I mean it. The Bureau has an arrest on sight order for you, thanks to what Harris has been saying.”
“That was fast,” Piper said, blowing out a slow breath as she took the news in. “I take it you’re going to have to tell them about this conversation?”
“Yes. I’m sorry, but you know how this goes. I’ll let them know that you contacted me, that you have some evidence to prove your side of things but that you’re going to get the rest before coming in. I’ll also tell them I have no idea where you are.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, it’s true. Just be sure to destroy this burner phone you’re calling me on as soon as you hang up.”
“Definitely,” Piper said. “Thanks for looking out, Jane. I’ll be back in touch once I have Bailey’s confession.”
“One more thing. There’s been a lot of chatter from south of the border. It sounds like some sort of hit squad from the cartel is in your area.”
“Uh, yeah,” Piper said, scratching at the spot over her liver where the second cartel bullet had hit her vest. “I’m aware.”
“Two of them were apprehended at a motel near you.”
“Yep.”
“What does that… you know what? Forget I asked.”
“Probably for the best,” Piper said. “But it wouldn’t hurt if you were to float some questions as to why cartel hitters would be after me. Make Harris squirm a bit.”
“That I can do. Good luck, Piper.”
“Thanks,” Piper said, and hung up the phone.
“So? What did she say?” Pony said.
“Pretty much what we thought,” Piper said. “We need Bailey’s confession to make this work.”
“We could grab him, beat the shit out of him,” Pony said.
“Tempting, but hardly admissible evidence,” Piper said. “I need something that will hold up in court.”
“I know what to do,” Carly said. Then, when she caught a surprised look from the two of them, she said, “Seriously. I do.”
30
Officer Ryan Bailey was in the middle of what he normally would have called a hell of a night when the trouble started. A hell of a night, for him, consisted of getting lit to the gills on cheap beer at an even cheaper strip club.
That was how he liked his strip clubs; cheap, run-down, bottom of the barrel. It was the kind of place where he knew he could throw his weight around, talk mad shit and tear the place up if he wanted to, and nobody could do a damn thing about it on account of the badge in his pocket.
It wasn’t about the naked women for Bailey. He liked the power play, being able to humiliate them, degrade them, and know that they didn’t have a choice in the matter. He was the king and absolute ruler of this skanky castle.
Now, he was knee deep in his kind of place and many beers in, shouting in slurred tones at the women listlessly swaying and swinging on the stage right in front of him.
“Come on, girl!” he said. “Work it like you’re worth it!”
“You’re drunk,” one of the dancers said.
“Yeah, well, you’re fucking ugly. And I’ll wake up sober. Ha ha!” Bailey said, mentally congratulating himself for his little verbal jab.
“Why don’t you go home, Bailey?” the bartender said to him.
“Why don’t you suck my hairy… what the… fuck is… calling me?” Bailey said, digging at his pockets to get his suddenly vibrating phone out and answered.
On the other end, a young female voice said, “Officer Ryan Bailey.”
