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“Whatever I tell them is true is what’s true. I’ll tell them you’ve gotten emotionally involved with this Pony person you’re so fond of, and that he’s turned you. It’s happened before with undercover agents. More often than the Bureau likes to admit.”
“No one has turned anyone,” Piper said.
“If I say it’s what has happened, then that is what the FBI will think. I’ll make you out to be a full on criminal. Bonnie to his Clyde. So it’s not just your career, Piper, it’s your damn freedom that’s at stake here. You do this, or you’re looking at going to prison… if you’re lucky. And Carly? Hell, she can have a cell right next to yours.”
“You can’t do that,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“Sure I can,” Harris said. “Who’s going to stop me? If you call into HQ and try to deny it, you’ll be making yourself look guilty and confirming my story with every word.”
Now she was balling up her fists, looking like she might actually attack him right then and there.
“You son of a bitch,” she said.
“Yeah, yeah, son of bitch,” Harris said. “Call me all the names you like. But do it on your own time. Right now, you take that bag, you get out of my car, and you do as you’re told. Otherwise, get ready to trade in your little motorcycle outfit for prison orange.”
Her eyes were daggers, murder weapons, as she glared every ounce of hate in the world at him. Harris pointed at the paper bag.
“Move, Piper,” he said. “Or do I make that call right now?”
She was still glaring at him, his violent death in her eyes, but when she got out of the car, she took the paper bag with her.
Once she was gone, Harris closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and collapsed into himself.
18
Piper sat in her car, parked in the MC clubhouse’s parking lot, staring at the paper bag Harris had given to her.
Given to her. That wasn’t exactly right. Forced on her, was more like it.
A kilo of heroin. She’d only ever seen pictures of this much heroin, in files about cases she was involved with tangentially. Never in her worst nightmares did she think she’d be holding this much in her hands, much less looking to plant it as evidence.
What else could she do? Harris was right; as her supervisor, he could tell the FBI pretty much whatever he wanted. She’d been undercover for months with no contact with anyone else at the Bureau. There was no one who could back up Piper if Harris decided to make his accusations.
She couldn’t believe Harris was even capable of something like this. His reputation at the FBI was that of an undercover agent with tons of experience, who now had stepped back in his later years to supervise up and coming agents. Agents like her.
But there wasn’t even a whiff of a rumor that he was the kind of person to plant evidence or leverage a fellow agent like this. He was tough, yes, but this was another level.
It couldn’t work like this. Planting evidence in order to manufacture a felony level charge. It went against everything she’d been taught, not only as an agent, but as a human being.
Even worse was the knowledge of what planting this evidence would do to Pony. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. He was a good man, and in a perfect world…
But the world wasn’t perfect. It was filled with men like Navarro and Harris, pulling the strings and treating the rest of the world like pawns in their game. It tore her apart to know that she’d been maneuvered into becoming one of those pawns.
In the end, though, there wasn’t much choice, was there? Harris was holding all the cards. It was simply something she was going to have to do.
Best to get it over with, then.
She found she was holding her breath as she walked in through the front door of the clubhouse and into the bar. No need. The place was empty.
Thank God. This early, none of the brothers were in, and having any of the MC in the bar was the last thing she needed right now.
Especially Pony. There was no way she was going to be able to do this if she had to look Pony in the eye. It would be too much.
She moved quickly, before she could second-guess herself any more. The best bet for a place to hide something that none of the brothers would find was back behind the bar, near where the cleaning supplies were stored.
One of the brothers might jump behind the bar to get themselves a beer or a shot, but Piper doubted that any of them would be filled with a sudden and inexplicable desire to scour and scrub the place clean. Especially not within the next few hours, when Harris would send in his team.
She squatted down behind the bar, shoving aside bottles of cleanser and boxes of rubber gloves. There, near the drain pipe for the large double sink she used to wash the glasses, was a gap between the sink and the back of the cabinet.
