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Connard forces me into the back of his car, and when I look up at him, his smile tells me that he believes that he won. That he’s going to relish in the fact that he caught me and is sending my ass to prison.As the car pulls away I see them loading a pissed off Cowboy into the back of another cruiser.
“If you weren’t on the wrong side of all of this, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
He slams the door.
What the hell does that mean? I haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m not about to start. I can only hope that whoever Judge called earlier is someone that really can get me out of this. I will not lose my kids because some piece of shit decided that Steffie needed to die.
***
This is not my first time in an interrogation room, but I sure as shit hope it’s my last. They offered me water and snacks, but I refused. I know what they’re doing, and they aren’t going to get me to touch anything. I sit on the chair, arms crossed, looking at the wall ahead of me. They’re trying to make me sweat. It isn’t going to work. They booked me, put me in the room, and left. Didn’t ask me questions. Didn’t push for any more information.
Nothing.
The door bangs open, revealing Connard. Along with his smug face is one of his lackeys. Mallard, I think. He flips a switch and tosses a big folder down on the table before taking a seat opposite me. He mimics my posture, looking me up and down. We stare each other down for a few moments. The tension is palatable in the room—thick and heavy. Connard finally leans forward and flips open the folder. Right there, on the top, I see my application to put my name on Baby Girl’s birth certificate.
“You have the most to gain from this.” he starts,“With Steffie dead, you can take your daughter and move on. You can dump the child that was a tag along and start your happy family with the daughter you haven’t had access to.”
If he is looking for a reaction, he isn’t going to get one. He continues flipping through all of the papers. This allows me to see every single injunction Steffie’s filed, every time having stopped a planned court date. I’m seeing papers I had no access to because I was doing this on my own with no lawyer.
“She really didn’t want you to have access to your daughter. Fighting you tooth and nail. So much so it looks like she reached out to an independent adoption agency for the kids. Did you find that out? Did you see her trying to hinder your chances of getting your hands on that innocent, sweet baby girl and snap on her? Stomp her to death? I bet if we checked your boots, we would find blood. Specifically, her blood and hair.”
Now it’s my time for a smug smile. I slowly push the metal chair back from the table, causing as much noise as possible. I then swing both of my boots up on the table. With the soles pointed at him, dirt and rocks scattered from the treads all over the papers. Connard snaps his fingers, and Mallard rushes over with a bag and pulls my boots off my feet. I make little effort to help him, leaning back in my chair, knowing that he isn’t going to find much of anything. Mallard takes them from the room, flipping that same switch Connard flipped, walking in here. I knew I was no longer being recorded.
“Why do you, a single young man, need to be tied down with a kid? Why did you want it so much that you took the mother of that little girl away? Why would you condemn a little boy to the same fate you had in the system? I just want to know why.” Connard’s talking to me smoothly and softly like he fucking cared about the kids and Steffie. Completely changing his tune from moments before.
No one cared about Steffie. She was a burden to any and everyone that was forced to be in her presence. She thought she was entitled to more than she was worth. She was white trash and wanted to make the world burn. She won’t be missed. But I know I can’t say this, so I said nothing.
“I’m only giving you this one chance to talk to me. If you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you.” I can’t help the scoff that escapes my mouth.
Connard shoots up from his chair, causing it to hit the cinder block wall behind it. He hits my feet off the table. The papers scattered all over the room, along with the debris that fell from my boots. His face is red, and there is a vein popping from his forehead. He looks like he wants to launch himself over the table at me. I can’t help the smirk. I want him to hit me. I want another reason to bury this mother fucker. Before he can open his mouth, the door bursts open again, and there stands a well-dressed man with a suitcase.
“Sheriff Connard. You have had enough time with my client. I have had his charges dropped as he has an air-tight alibi—proven along with surveillance at the time the body was dropped. Had you and your officers actually done police work and not pursued a vendetta against these men that are seen as pillars of the community.” The suit started but was quickly interrupted by a guffaw from Connard.
“Pillars of the community? These men have done nothing but bring drugs and debauchery into my town.” Connard stands tall, trying to intimidate this man.
“What proof of that do you have? Are you making more inflammatory statements about my client and his brothers? And yes, they are pillars of the community. They do coat drives for families in need, food drives for the food bank, as well as donating a full butchered cow to families who need it. They volunteer for all the major events in town and help bring awareness to childhood traumas. So yes, as I said, they are pillars of the community. Regardless, there is no case against this man or his family. I will be filing a complaint with the state as well as with the county. Be ready, Connard.”
The suit holds his arm out, signaling for me to follow him. I can’t help but look over at Connard and give a small little finger wave and mouthtoo-da-looas I walk out of the room to freedom.
I’m halfway down the hallway when Mallard steps in front of us. He gives a quick look at the suit next to me before handing me back my shoes.
“I should hope that any evidence collected is dismissed as this case isn’t happening?” The man next to me asks.
“I didn’t process anything.”
I slam the door to my office and stomp around. I almost had them! They were so close to being in my grasp. I would have had complete control of this town. Of this whole branch of The Company! But they had to fuck it up again! My desk phone rings and it makes my heart stop. Did that overpriced suit make right on his threat?
“What?” I growl into the line.
“You like to drag me out of bed for things that are nothing, don’t you? You arrested a man on no grounds after he gave you an airtight alibi! They all did, but you still have men searching the farmland for what? The murder weapon? You don’t know how she died! This woman was dumped. It’s too soon to bring any charges to the table! You just invoked the double jeopardy defense because your ass jumped the gun! So if he is lying, if his brothers are lying, we can’t go after him!” The D.A. is screaming at me.
I really hate lawyers.
“He had a baby with the victim. She was denying him his rights. She was causing infighting within the MC. They had reasons.” I pathetically try to defend my actions.
“All with no valid foundation! The father has a court case going before a judge. Why would he risk that? And the infighting is one hundred percent hearsay. You had nothing. And you fucked this case right from the start because you have an unfounded vendetta against a group of men who are trying to make Wyman better. Because the people respect them more, it means you aren’t doing your job right. I will make a note of this with the county executive. Good luck keeping your job.” The line goes dead.
I throw my whole phone across the room, clear my desk and yell in frustration. I want to trash and break anything and everything that is in this room. They aren’t going to take away everything I worked so hard for! My cell starts going off in my pocket.
