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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 wasable 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 lockup 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.
This was it. Our final moments. I’d always wondered what would happen if the house of cards came crashing down, and now I knew. This.
Death.
Turns out, I didn’t much like waiting to die.
‘You’re going to kill us,’ I spat at Emilio. ‘What are you waiting for?’
He didn’t stop pacing as he locked those cold, dead eyes on me. ‘A call. I’m waiting for a call from my son. He went to your house, John, assuming that’s the first place you’d hit. Such a family man, we all thought you’d go back for your daughter before stopping here. Who knew?’
John growled, straining against the stronghold his three club brothers had on him.
‘I wonder what they’ll do with your precious daughter,’ Emilio mused.
‘I’ll fucking kill you if you touch her!’ John roared, lunging over the desk.
Emilio smiled. ‘I won’t touch her,’ he said, smirking. ‘But I will watch.’
***
They locked me in a room by myself and left me there. It was more of a broom closet really, full of cleaning supplies and towels. There was nothing sharp. No windows. The best hope I had was to try to set something on fire. I’d probably die very quickly, though. So I refrained.
