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“Alright.”
This guy was so chatty and friendly. “Let’s get the basics out of the way. What were you doing in one of the worst neighborhoods in Philly in the middle of the night?”
“My girlfriend, well ex girlfriend now, planned a weekend away for us. When she snuck out of our hotel room last night, I got suspicious and followed her. Figured she was cheating on me, but no, bitch was delivering drugs.”
“So you knew nothing about the drugs prior to following her?”
The man shook his head. “No fucking clue. She set me up. Bitch.”
He raised an eyebrow, “How exactly did she set you up, if she was unaware of you following her?”
Bank slammed his fists against the tabletop, the fury in his gaze enough to heat the damn room. “After she handed over the drugs, she demanded her payment. Karen wasn’t after cash, no, she wanted them to kill me. If you can get hold of my phone, you’ll see the message she sent me, saying she was in trouble and needed me to save her. Gave a different location to the one we were at though. Bitch was gonna have me killed!”
He jotted down a note to get one of their tech guys to pull the information from Bank’s phone. “Do you know why she’d have done that? How long were you and Karen together? I’ll also need her last name.”
Bank sat back in his chair and rubbed a palm over his face. “Karen Klenig, born 16th April 1987. We’ve been together for three years, but it wasn’t exactly a happy relationship. Been thinking of cutting her loose lately, maybe she got wind of that.”
He made some more notes. “What were you doing when you were arrested?”
“I’d just received the text and was trying to wrap my head around the fact my girlfriend wanted me dead bad enough, she arranged to have some thugs kill me for her, when shouts went up and everyone went running. As I moved from where I’d been spying on them, a LEO grabbed and cuffed me. One of the joys of being a biker, cops automatically assume we’re doing somethin’ wrong.”
He shrugged before crossing his arms over his chest again.
“Got any redeeming qualities I can use to convince the Judge not to set your bail too high?”
Bank chuckled. “Redeeming qualities? What? Like I rescue cats from trees or some shit?”
“Yeah, or some shit.”
“The Charon MC is all about helping the underdog, but we don’t exactly mind the law when we do. Generally speaking, it’s the law that’s failed the person we’re helping.”
Sean rubbed his forehead. Bank didn’t seem to understand that he needed the full, unvarnished truth before he could spin the story. It was going to be a long day.
“Bank, I need something to work with. I can’t go in defending you by saying you’re some sort of vigilante superhero. You have to help me help you.”
“My record is clean. Haven’t even caught a speeding fine in about ten years. I live quietly and mind my own business. I work hard and pay my taxes on time. If you’re subtly asking if I have any club secrets I’ll hand over for my freedom, that’s a solid hell no. Got my name because I can keep a secret better than a bank vault. I won’t ever turn on my club.”
Sean admired the guy’s loyalty even if it made his job a lot harder.
Chapter2
Liv
Liv’s body trembled with a mixture of excitement and fear. The last two years since her sister, Amelia, was murdered, the desire to see the man who killed her finally punished fueled her every action. Luis Soto was an asshole drug dealer who deserved to burn in the lowest levels of hell for what he’d done. Last night, she’d finally gotten the evidence she needed to put him in jail where he belonged.
Months of following him around and spending all her available money on high-tech surveillance equipment had paid off. She recorded audio and video of the asshole taking a large bag of drugs and agreeing to murder someone in return. When the cops raided the deal, she’d cheered from her hidden position. But somehow the weasel had avoided getting arrested.
When she’d reviewed the video, she’d seen Luis walk away in the initial confusion with the woman who’d hired him. A few of the police had purposefully ‘not seen’ him. She wished the obvious evidence of corruption surprised her. They’d only arrested his low-level ‘soldiers’. A good portion of the local cops were on the Soto Cartel’s payroll. Last night removed any doubt of that. Because of that, Liv couldn’t risk bringing this evidence to them. It would only disappear like it had done in the past. Her plan was to go straight to Stephen Nachman, the prosecuting attorney assigned to the drug bust. With proof this clear, he would have to have Luis arrested. Wouldn’t he?
Not wanting to wait till the lawyer was in his office, Liv had headed to the courthouse. It only took a few questions to have the man pointed out to her. In her hurry to get to the man, she almost missed who he was talking to. Wilson Fronefield. Rage almost blinded her before fear brought her back to her senses.
Wilson Fronefield, the lawyer who’d not only gotten Luis acquitted of the murder charges but also trashed her sister’s memory in open court. Liv needed to think. She turned and hurried away before either man noticed her. Where could she find a quiet spot to think?
Yes, her sister had been a drug addict, but only because Luis got her hooked on his poison. After a year of mental and physical abuse, the asshole ‘accidentally’ killed her with one hit too many. That scumbag lawyer spun it like her sister had gone into a drug fueled rage and her poor caring boyfriend only defended himself. A man twice her sister’s size and strength was forced to deadly violence. Somehow, the judge and jury bought into the story.
She wandered out of the busy area, trying to calm herself down. Why was the lawyer tasked with prosecuting criminals chatting like they were best friends with a piece of shit like Fronefield? Could he be dirty, too? Tears burned her eyes. Was there anyone to give this evidence to that wouldn’t be in the Cartel’s pocket?
When she finally got her breathing under control, she didn’t know where she was. Only a single guard stood outside a door in the almost deserted hallway. Numbered doors ran the length of the walls. Placed between them were a variety of uncomfortable seating options. Taking a minute to gather her thoughts before she got more lost was probably for the best, Liv decided, as she sat on a bench outside a room marked with the number fifteen and dropped her head into her hands. Maybe she should send the video to a news station? Or some internet justice blog?
