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They blamed me even when I tried suggesting that perhaps I had been drugged without my knowledge – he’d done it numerous times before – and told me I probably dreamt the whole thing after watching some “murder porn” documentary.
Here’s the thing…I have dozens of stories like that, that if my partners knew…if they were really let in on what Brad is capable of…they might understand why I’ve always believed running to be the best form I can file and why I think we’re just basically waiting to be mentally audited any day now.
But at least we’re being audited together…
Right?
“Seriously, Nolan,” Garcia’s chuckles finally fade, “you owe me one poker night for this shit.”
Our boyfriend lets a wider grin reach his lips during his nodding. “Done.”
New whines of disapproval festering in the back of The Kid’s throat cause me to gently bump his frame with mine. “Put it in park, Speed Racer.”
“Alright,” Garcia lowers his mug to the table and shifts his stare to the two of us in the living room, “here’s what’s going to happen next.” As soon as he has all of the attention in the room, he continues, “I will be treating each of these as three separate, totally unrelated cases-”
“But they’re not,” The Kid prematurely chimes in.
“I understand that they’re not, Woods; however, for the sake of doing my job and providing each of you with the adequate counsel and resources you’ll need, for the time being it’s what is best. This doesn’t mean that won’t change. This doesn’t mean you won’t be informed of one another’s progress or resolutions. And it doesn’t mean that there won’t be a time that comes where we do have to intertwine these incidents for a bigger purpose. I’m simply stating that for the moment these are to be three independent cases. The law enforcement harassment,” he gestures towards Nolan, “the self-defense with deadly force,” his hand motions to Kipp, “and the stalking.”
The word itself sends a notable shiver down my spine.
“Nolan,” Garcia directs his words back to our boyfriend, “Thursday, we’ll meet for a late breakfast and then probably have a little field trip to the precinct just before The Chief tries to step out for lunch.”
Kipp instantly inquires, “Why Thursday?”
“Because they’ll be expecting us on Monday.” He doesn’t hesitate to lock eyes with The Kid. “We don’t want the expected. We don’t want them prepared. We want them caught off guard to use to our advantage. Monday they’ll be anticipating us. And when we don’t arrive, Tuesday is the next logical conclusion. By Wednesday, they’ll still be a tad worried, yet on Thursday, when they haven’t seen or heard from us by ten or so, they’ll mistakenly assume, they’re in the clear, giving us an element of attack as they scramble to get their shit together.”
“Okay,” the man with his arm around me slightly backs down, “but why breakfast?”
“Because we’ll need to review the case, I’ll be hungry, and Nolan owes me at least five.”
“Two at most,” Mutt cheekily corrects.
Laughter leaving them both yet again seems to pull a disgruntled grump out of The Kid.
“Next,” Garcia keeps his stare fixed on the obviously unhappy male I’ve stopped doodling on, “you are not to talk to any member of law enforcement – in person, on the phone, or digitally – without me present.” His expression hardens to reiterate his seriousness. “Doesn’t matter if they want just basic ass information or a complete rundown of the event again. You are not to give it without my presence or awareness. I don’t care what they say or try to threaten you with, Woods. Simply respond, ‘I am not speaking without my attorney present.’. I’mma leave you with a stack of my business cards to give out whenever you need to for contact.” He removes the aforementioned items from his pocket and places them on the table. “Understood?”
Kipp doesn’t hide his sneer. “You just…carry around an entire stack of business cards in your pants at all times?”
“My car.” He cocks a grin that only deepens The Kid’s scowl. “Think of me like a better looking, Hispanic version of The Lincoln Lawyer.” When there’s no response out of my boyfriend, Garcia attempts to clarify, “It’s a movie. And now a TV show.”
“And a slow and boring old people vehicle.”
“Luxury,” our attorney craftily quips back, “for those with that type of money to spend.”
The narrowing of Kipp’s gaze further displays his disapproval. “Not Ford’s best decision.”
“Maybe not his best decision but most certainly one of his top three as well as one that changed the entire course of the car industry and significant portions of pop culture.”
“Do not lecture me on the goddamn car industry.”
The Kid’s bite back prompts Mutt to tilt his head scoldingly in our direction. “Ignore, Kipp. He gets a little…touchy when he’s tired.”
“I imagine the latest round of adrenaline has worn off by now, so how about I wrap this up?”
“Should’ve done that an hour ago,” Kipp mutters louder than I’m sure he intended given the way it gets Garcia chortling.
“Apologies, man. I just…I don’t get to see Ace as much as I used to and got a little carried away with catching up.”
