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She jutted her head toward the door. “Feel free to keep recording, especially if you intend to continue refusing to cooperate with law enforcement.”
He tapped at the phone and slid it in his pocket, then strode through the door. Jo herded them down the hall and through the main office of the building, then out to the sidewalk. Arnett followed her, Kiernan in tow. Thankfully, he was smart enough to remain quiet.
“I want him arrested,” Brad repeated.
“To confirm, you want to press charges?” Jo asked.
Brad drew himself up taller. “Of course I want to press charges. He assaulted me.”
Jo motioned to the undercover officer who’d been assigned to protect Chelsea, currently watching the building. “Then we’ll send for backup to come take the three of you into custody.”
Brad’s brows rose in faux indignation. “The three of us?”
“Chris Alexander made it clear he’d like you charged with disturbing the peace at his wife’s memorial service,” Jo said.
“This shirt is protected by the constitution,” Brad barked. “And we have the whole thing on tape. That jerk flew across anentire roomto attack me.”
“Wealsohave the entire incident on tape,” Jo said. “Several angles of it, in fact. All of which will show clearly that your friend had his phone out in anticipation of a reaction. They’ll also show the expression on your face as you entered the room, and when you saw Kiernan coming at you.”
Both the smugness and indignation dropped from his face, replaced with genuine shock. “You—you can’t—”
“Let me explain it to you clear and easy,” Arnett said. “No publicity is bad publicity, right? You want to be heard, and this’ll get you attention. But judges and juries don’t look kindly on people who cause emotional distress to grieving families to further their political ends.”
Jo made direct, extended eye contact. “And, if you’re willing to go to this extreme to bring attention to Lucifer Lost, I have to ask myself what other extremes you’d be willing to go to.”
Brad’s mouth snapped open and shut. “I have an alibi for Madison Coelho’s murder.”
“I hope you have an alibi for Naomie Alexander’s too. Because you’ve also refused to put us in touch with other members of your group, which shows an unwillingness to help with a police investigation. Add to that this extreme demonstration of your contempt for the victims and their families and I don’t think we’ll have a problem getting a warrant to search you and your organization.”
Brad’s face turned white. “Look, I’m not really hurt. I don’t need to press charges.”
“That’s very gracious of you,” Jo said.
Arnett pulled out the key to his cuffs and released Kiernan. Brad lifted his hands toward Jo so she could remove his.
She didn’t move.
“Officers are en route,” Arnett said.
Brad’s gaze bounced back and forth between them. “Wait— What? You’re still going to arrest us even though I’m dropping the charges?”
“Sorry you misunderstood—this isn’t a negotiation,” Jo said. “You’ll still need to explain to the judge why you showed up here today dressed like that. And we’re more interested than ever to know who the other members of Lucifer Lost are and where they were at the time of these murders.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
Once Brad and friend were bundled into squad cars, Jo and Arnett headed back into the memorial service. All eyes were on them as they attempted to slip back in.
“Whatever veil of discretion we might have had before has been obliterated,” Jo said.
“But that little drama may have been exactly what we came here to see,” Arnett answered.
Chris broke away from Naomie’s parents and stormed over to them, demanding to know what happened. They calmed him as best they could, and advised him to continue the memorial like nothing had happened.
Once the crowd’s interest in the altercation shifted, Chelsea took to the microphone to say a few words about both Madison and Naomie, then invited up anyone else who wanted to do the same. Both Madison’s mother and Naomie’s father gave short, emotional eulogies, followed by several people associated with Triple-B. Jo listened carefully to the speakers’ words while scanning the crowd for reactions.
When the tributes finished, Jo and Arnett refreshed their coffee, then sidled over to Julia. She hadn’t moved from the far edge of the crowd, her face and neck tight with strain.
“How are you holding up?” Jo asked her.
