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‘Guess you can tell that to your buddies in your prison cell.’
‘Do you really think I’m afraid of prison,’ she shot back, ‘after the life I’ve lived? Prison would be a walk in the park compared to that. You can either give us both immunity, or you can process me, because I’m not saying another word without John.’
Lindsay realised that she didn’t care what happened to her. She was in love with this guy, and she was never going to cooperate unless he was part of the deal.
Mariana sat back in her metal chair and smiled at Lindsay smugly. ‘You should see the things I could get for you,’ she teased. ‘I think the word “damning” ought to cover it.’
Lindsay was finding it harder to smile at her. She was asking him to do the impossible.
‘Wait here,’ he said.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Lindsay marched John Portland into Mariana’s interrogation room. Her eyes practically popped out of her skull, she looked so surprised. She covered her reaction quickly, though, with a smile. ‘See, that wasn’t so hard,’ she said to Lindsay.
He just made a noise at the back of his throat. He could technically lose his job for this, but if an entire cartel was taken down through his efforts, then all would be forgiven. Probably.
Lindsay left them alone for a moment under the pretence of getting John a chair, but when he peered at them through the one-way glass window, they remained silent. They were smart. They’d almost been smart enough to get out before Lindsay had scooped them up. Almost.
After a few moments of watching them exchange silent glances, he headed back in, a chair in one hand, coffee in the other. The coffee was for him. Criminals didn’t get coffee until they gave him something. If these two delivered, he’d buy them a lifetime supply of Starbucks to go with their immunity.
John sat in the chair. Lindsay leaned against the table and sipped coffee. They all looked at each other silently. And then Mariana Rodriguez began to talk.
* * *
Mariana had insisted on going to the clubhouse to collect the financial evidence herself. She’d also insisted on taking John with her. Said she wouldn’t do a thing if he was out of her sight for a single second. John hadn’t said a damn thing.
After much toing and froing, Lindsay sent them both with Agent Morgan to recover the evidence Mariana was so adamant about – the financial records that could prove a link between Emilio Ross, the Il Sangue Cartel, and the human trafficking ring. He watched them leave, relieved that he was able to cut a deal that would see Mariana kept safe. He’d only met the woman twice, but he’d watched her for hours upon hours over the last few months. There was something about her that endeared her to him, even if he couldn’t quite articulate what it was.
His coffee long since cold, Lindsay gathered his files and dumped them on his desk, and then headed down to the lock-up to see who he could rattle next. Yeah, he had Mariana’s testimony, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t make his case even more bulletproof with additional testimony. He was looking forward to interrogating Emilio and Dornan Ross. He was practically giddy about the prospect of waving their life sentences in their faces, because that’s what they’d get for the things they’d done. He intended to impress upon them that his case against them would bury them so deep, they’d never see the light of day again.
He was feeling pretty chipper as he approached the police officer on duty and held out his badge for verification. ‘I’m ready for Dornan and Emilio Ross to be brought upstairs for questioning,’ he said, scanning the lock-up for the father and son.
The officer shrugged. ‘They’re gone.’
Lindsay just about died on the spot. ‘I’m sorry, what?’
A senior officer who was sitting at a nearby desk chimed in. ‘Yeah. Apparently they had some hotshot lawyer down here, demanding to know what they were under arrest for. He got them out, like, three hours ago.’
‘We’ll have all the evidence we need to convict those two sorry sons of bitches. It’s being collected right now.’
‘Well, you needed it three hours ago,’ the senior officer replied. ‘We had no choice but to let them go.’
Lindsay was incredulous. ‘It’s an FBI case. It’s called a twenty-four hour hold, for Christ’s sake.’
The duty officer opened his mouth to speak but Lindsay cut him off as a fresh wave of panic slammed him. ‘Wait, did you say they’ve been gone for three hours? Fuck!’=
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
MARIANA
We were completely and utterly screwed. Emilio had somehow skipped his holding cell and beaten us to the strip club, pouncing the moment we’d entered the place with Agent Morgan.
The same Agent Morgan who was now bleeding to death at my feet, courtesy of a bullet to his chest. Two of Dornan’s sons held my arms behind my back. Viper and two other Gypsy Brothers were holding John. It had taken three men to restrain him.
Behind the desk John usually sat at, in the office we shared, Emilio paced.
He’d already filled us in on the information Viper had pieced together. We were fucked. Emilio knew everything. He knew I’d killed Murphy. He knew John and I were together. He knew I’d been skimming cartel money for years. And he knew John had been responsible for Stephanie’s disappearance.
