Page 39 of Not Mine to Rescue

He was recovering from a crushed vertebrae, two broken ribs, a minor concussion, and damage to his internal organs. That one was lucky to be alive.

And, there’d been a dead body in the treasurer’s home.

The claim was he’d fallen out the same window, gotten up to continue his home invasion and died where they found the body on the second floor. He had blunt force trauma to the head, which could have happened from the fall, but there were notes in the coroner’s report that didn’t substantiate that kind of injury.

However, there was only one witness. And he’d stuck to his story. There were no variations in the two months he’d been recovering. Another “unfortunate” snag in the investigation was the number of instances of vandalism and break-ins attributed to the victim. Their rap sheet rivaled a high fantasy novel in length. He should have been serving life behind bars.

And then I hit the real meat of the issue. Jim had represented him when he and the now-Destroyers were the same club.

The cops were wrong. This wasn’t a gang war. This was a grudge. On the emotional angle alone, I could construct an argument to acquit anyone charged in this mess. But there hadn’t been any charges filed. There was a rape kit on the girl held at the hospital, and nowhere to send it to because absolutely no one wanted to connect the dots.

And that rankled.

She should have justice.

“Are you okay?” Lemon’s question caught me off guard.

I smiled despite not feeling it. “Just decompressing, that’s all.”

She glanced to where I’d been absently gazing. Her brother bent over and ruffled DA’s ears. I could hear the tone of his voice as he rough-housed with the dog, but not the words.

“My brother is an idiot, you know that, right?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Whatever he did, or said, it’s because he’s hit his head at least one too many times. Or maybe it’s because he was malnourished as a child. You’re fully justified in whatever grudge you have against him.”

I blinked, trying to figure out what she was saying. “Are you saying that because of female solidarity or because I’m a customer?”

She licked her lips. “Both?”

I laughed. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” If anyone was in hot water, it was me. I shouldn’t have gone there. I simply shouldn’t have. I was older, his lawyer… and sure, I wasn’t actively representing him or paid by him, plus Maryland didn’t set time limits or restraints on relationships with former clients, it was on me to be more mature and sensible about the ethical aspects.

“Are you sure? Because he’s not a saint.”

It was my turn to study her. “Let me guess, you noticed my car was in the lot long after I should have left.”

She shrugged. “I might have, but you’re an adult. More of one than my brother.”

Rub it in, why don’t you? I really shouldn’t have asked, and it was wrong of me to dig when it wasn’t an active case, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Do you know anything about the Destroyers’ old club?”

Lemon’s gaze turned sharp. “I know they’re all dickheads. Wombat told me to stay far away from them, and if any of them showed up here, to lock myself in the basement with the dogs. Why?”

“I overheard two police officers talking, that’s all.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Occupational hazard?”

“Definitely.”

“You might want to tell Wombat.”

I couldn’t. “It’s only speculation.”

Lemon crossed her arms. “If the cops are going to arrest my brother on some bullshit, I want to know. What do they have on him?”

“Like I said, it’s speculation, and I doubt your brother would be involved.”

“Involved in what?”