Why?
They’d been sobereight years. Was this new? How had she not noticed? She’d been busy with work, but it wasn’t like she had an active social life. She was home often. But when was the last time she had a sit-down meal with her parents? Talked to them in person instead of by text message? How could they live thirty feet from her front door and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen them in recent weeks?
The baggie fell from between her fingers. She didn’t care much that her fingerprints were now on the bag. With no historyof drug abuse or evidence of knowledge, the drugs currently in her domain were not her biggest issue.
Her father’s dead body was.
She’dshother father. In the back. The implications… Even with the damage in her home, one could argue it was staged. Her father was in her house all the time. He had a fuckingkey. Why would he need to break in?
Why indeed?
Toni fell back on her ass, leaning against the support wall of her staircase. Just staring into the dark, unseeing eyes of the man who’d betrayed her trust. Again.
Legally, she should call Carlos. Despite that they were on opposite sides of the courtroom most days, Carlos was a good man, an honest man. They’d gone to high school together, though he was a year behind her. She knew that Carlos would believe her story.
But Carlos was not the be-all, end-all of the law. There were others who would like to see her fall. She was good at her job with one major rule: she believed her client was innocent or had just cause for their actions. She had clients who were in prison, but that didn’t mean she was a bad attorney. She represented her clients to the best of her ability to the fullest extent of the law. She lost, and she won. But there were those who did not agree with her “righteous cause”, those who thought she needed to be brought down a peg or two.
Carlos would still have to investigate. She couldn’t see him arresting her tonight, but Carlos was also an elected official. He had to watch his own back and as much as look out for the citizens of their small town. And while he had first discretion, in the end, it would be the DA who decided whether to pursue charges.
A DA she’d pissed off on numerous occasions.
His personal belief aside, Carlos wouldn’t be able to state, under oath, that the evidence supported her claim that she acted in self-defense.
But what other option did she have but to call the police? She had adead bodyin her stairwell.Her father’sdead body. Herdrug addictfather’s dead body.
Toni couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. Why was this happening? How could her father have let this happen? And what of her mom? Had she been in the house, too? Toni wasn’t positive there had been a second person. She couldn’t recall hearing a door close or a car drive off or footsteps or anything.
She had no choice. She had to call 911. She had to call the police. She would just have to take her chances and argue her case in court. It was her job. It was what she believed in.
Call how? Her phone was still in her car, which may or may not be stranded on the side of the road halfway down the mountain, with her purse and her pistol also inside. Fuck.
She eyed her father’s body. She didn’t need to check for a pulse. He was gone. She’d killed him. Intentional or not, she’d committed patricide. His hoodie pocket lay flat now over his belly and his pajama pants didn’t have pockets. Clearly, he didn’t have his phone on him. Nope, just broke into her house with the most essential item: a bag of meth.
Should she walk over to her parents’ apartment? What if her mom was there? What if she was high? But Toni didn’t have a choice. She needed to get to a phone, or she’d have to walk her way down the mountain.
Sliding up the wall, Toni stood. Where were her flip-flops? After several long minutes of navigating the glass-covered floor, and one painful misstep, Toni was able to locate her shoes outside her laundry room. Sliding them on did not make her feel any better or more accomplished, but she was a task-orientedperson. She needed to focus on the next step or she’d falter. Curl up in a ball of utter despair.
What if Susie showed up in the morning to find her next to her father’s body? Or worse, what if Susie was right, and it was Ranger who came to give her a ride to work? How fucking…embarrassing…
Toni paused, her hand outstretched towards the front door. What if… What if there was another option? What if shedidn’tcall the police? If the rumors about the club were real… But would they help her with something like this? The one thing she knew about the club was that they were fiercely loyal to this town, would protect it without hesitation or remorse. They were extremely protective of women and children. But they were also extremely strict on drugs. They even worked with the police to get rid of the drug trade in town. At first, it seemed suspicious, and many thought they were just getting rid of the competition, but soon it became obvious that they had no alternate agenda.
She just murdered her father by shooting him in the back with drugs in his pocket. Would they side with her on this?
Toni lowered her hand away from the doorknob. The club might not, but there was one man who would. One man who owed her a favor and had given her a burner phone with a single number on it.
It had been years. Would the number even work? Where had she put that phone?Pleaselet it be here in the house and not left in a random filing cabinet in her office.
Spinning on her heels, Toni went in search of that phone.
* * *
Ranger was goingto need to paint a mural or something on his ceiling. The plain white was pissing him off, even though it looked bluish black in the shadowy moonlight. He’d spent hoursstaring at the purse he’d brought home with him and now he’d moved onto the ceiling. He already had Toni’s cage back to the garage by the time he realized they were inside. Along with a pistol in the glove compartment. Not wanting to leave the purse, phone, or gun unattended at the garage, he packed them up and brought them home with him.
To his credit, when Ghost saw Ranger carrying a purse inside, his only reaction was to raise a single eyebrow and proclaim it wasn’t his color. Ranger had flipped him off and told him what happened. All of it, including the against-the-truck sex and getting caught by Susan Brown. Ghost had already been aware that a tow was going to take Ranger past curfew. Since picking up the job at the club’s garage, Ranger had two new devices on him, courtesy of Keys. One was a panic button. Ranger was less happy about that one, but there was a bit of comfort in knowing that if something happened, he just needed to be clearheaded long enough to press a single button that would alert every club member that he needed help.
The second was a prototype, but one Ranger volunteered for. After Cameron had made Ranger remove his dog tags where his tracker was, and Becks had mistakenly removed her wedding ring in hopes of alerting Ghost that something was wrong without knowing she was also removinghertracker, Keys wanted to come up with something that wasn’t as invasive as an injection but also couldn’t be removed easily off their person. So Ranger was now Keys’ guinea pig for a custom-fitted tooth-mounted tracker, complete with a microphone and receiver that automatically turned on if Ranger hit his panic button.
While a part of him was irritated by the constant overwatch, he also knew that this allowed him certain freedoms until he earned back the trust he’d shattered with a single needle. Check-ins with Ghost, Becks, and Cross were just another part of his new routine, but with knowing the unpredictability of workingthe tow truck, Ranger could understand why the additional securities were necessary.
