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“When was that?”
“A few days ago.”
“She’s been texting her mom. She’s fine, was just sick for a moment.”
My lawyer’s stare is that of a man who’s used to reading between the lines.
Scowling, I tell him, “She was actually sick. A cold or something. She’s better now but resting up. I’m doing what I can to spoil her given how she’s had a difficult couple of weeks.”
“So she’s good?” he asks, his brow raised.
“She’s good,” Carter declares.
“Would she be good if she was brought in for questioning?” McHale questions and anger heats every inch of me. She needs to stay out of this.
“Scarlet was her friend, right? She was seen with her the week she died?”
“You would be there if she was questioned or deposed, so she would be fine,” Carter says to me and it’s silent a moment. Michael’s reading between the lines of what Carter is suggesting.
My head spins with the possibility of her in questioning. It’s too fucking risky. All of it is.
“What about E?” McHale continues. He’s referring to a business associate of ours. His real name is Ian, but for some fucking reason he goes by E.
When Bardot got arrested and didn’t show up for work … it caused a bit of a stir. E doesn’t have time or patience. He doesn’t work for us but it’s to our benefit to keep business flowing with E in upstate New York.
“We’ll get him what he needs. He knows this kind of thing is just part of the game.”
“He’s anxious and for good reason, but I’ll reach out and smooth things over. Reassure him that everything is fine,” Carter answers, shifting slightly in his seat and I’m almost certain it’s the only move he’s made for the last twenty minutes.
“Any word from Marcus?”
“He’s still quiet,” Carter answers and a cold chill runs down my spine.
“Quiet isn’t bad,” Michael suggests.
“In the case of Marcus, it’s not good either.”
There are far too many players, and far too many power moves going on at once for me to be distracted by Braelynn. Yet she’s all I can think about. What she does next is the only thing that seems to matter.
All I keep picturing is her in that room, knowing she has an out and taking it. Fuck, if she knew everything, she’d be smart to leave me.
“Declan?” Michael’s tone prods me from my thoughts back to the present where three sets of eyes bore into me with concern. Waiting for a response. “Did you hear me?”
Clearing my throat I shake my head slightly and wait for my lawyer to repeat whatever he said.
“We were given a heads-up that the officer in charge is working with a judge who isn’t in our back pocket.”
“Right. We knew he probably would.”
“So, prepare for questioning. Nate first, but they’re more than likely planning to pick you up and you should decide where you want that to happen. Here? In The Club, or at home or … let me know so I can plant that seed.”
This isn’t the first time I’ll be picked up by the cops for questioning. It’s the first time that I’ve thought about who will be with me when they do, though.
What she’ll see and what she’ll think. And who will be there for Braelynn if it’s just the two of us and they take me away.
“Let me know,” McHale prods for an answer and instead of giving him a time and place, I hesitate and let him know I’ll get back to him.
I need to take care of her first. I can’t handle all of this shit without knowing if she’s even going to be there. I take a glance at my brother as every thought of what she’d do if they pulled her in for questioning races in my mind and I find his gaze on me just the same.
