Redemption

by LK Shaw

  “There you are. I was wondering when you’d finally grow another set of balls and show up. It’s about time, Miles. Welcome back.”

  A sense of befuddlement filled me, and I blinked before stepping back and glancing down at Josephine. She only smiled and shrugged her shoulders. I turned back to Connor and waited expectantly for an explanation.

  “We all know you’ve been fucked in the head since killing Malcolm, Miles. I also know that you’ve changed since being with Josie. Even so, you’ve been holding back that last bit of power I knew was inside you. We saw it before what happened with Malcolm, but you continued to keep it on a short leash. You needed that final push to regain control. Realizing that you would do whatever it took to protect someone you love was that push. Now you understand the wasted regrets you felt at killing Malcolm. We do what we have to in order to protect the ones we love with no need for guilt or self-recriminations. I think you finally understand that now.”

  His words struck a chord with me. All those months wasted on something I would do over and over again, if only to protect Connor. That was who I was: a protector. It’s what I did. There was no need to let the guilt consume me like it had. Connor was right. I finally understood now.

  “Holy shit, that was a lot of testosterone being slung around.” This came from Josie, who just shook her head.

  Chapter 32

  Watching Miles face off with Connor had me squirming in my seat with arousal. Even in his submission, he radiated power. Outside the bedroom he was alpha all the way. And it was a total turn on, especially knowing that once we got in bed, I controlled that power. Harnessed it, fed off it. Damn, he was sexy and all mine.

  “Seriously, guys, tone that shit down. At least until I get out of the room. Then you both can compare dick sizes all you want. Until then, if you don’t mind, can we get back to business? I don’t know who you have in mind that is local. There is no one I trust in the Pinegrove Police to take something of this magnitude to. For all I know, my father has the whole department in his pocket.”

  Instead of returning to the couch, Miles sat down in the chair next to me. As though putting us on equal ground where this topic was concerned. He refused to be relegated to the background this time. I didn’t mind. In fact, he was just as much a part of this now as I was.

  “I have a —” Connor paused, as though searching for the right word. “I know someone on the force that I can guarantee is not on your father’s payroll.”

  “Do you trust him?” With Connor’s hesitancy, I was leery of going local.

  “He may be an occasional fuck-up, but as much as I hate to admit it, I would trust him with my life. He’s one of the good guys. I can promise you that. I think we need to bring him in on this.”

  “If you trust him, then I’m okay with it. Can you call him?”

  With only a nod, Connor pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. He put it on speakerphone, and the tinny sound of ringing echoed in the air.

  “I want no part of whatever the fuck it is you’re calling me about, Black.”

  “Hello to you too, Webber. And I think you’re definitely going to want in on what could be one of the biggest takedowns in your shitty career. Are you sure you’re still not interested?”

  There was such a long pause on the line, for a moment I thought the officer had hung up. The silence was broken by a disgusted sigh.

  “Fine, talk to me.”

  “Not over the phone. Why don’t you come to my office? See you in an hour.”

  Webber’s response was cut short when Connor disconnected the call. He only shrugged when I just stared at him.

  “Go find something to occupy your time until Webber arrives. Margaret will page you when he gets here.”

  Taking that as a dismissal, Miles and I left Connor’s office and headed back to mine. He and I went over my files on my father again with a fine-toothed comb, making sure everything was clear and concise and that no mistakes could be found. My phone beeped, and Margaret, Connor’s secretary, notified us that a Detective Daniel Webber had arrived. A quick glance confirmed that fifty minutes had passed since we’d left Connor’s office. At least this Webber guy was prompt.

  And pissed if his expression as we entered Connor’s office was any indication.

  “Close the door.”

  Miles shut the door behind him, and we both headed to the couch, with Miles stopping at the mini bar first. He poured four shots of Jameson and passed one to Connor, me, and with a whispered, “You look like you’re gonna need this,” he handed one to Detective Webber. Who, sure enough, looked ready to explode.

  Miles took a seat next to me, but when Connor indicated for Webber to take a seat, he refused.

  “Next time, you can fuck off. I can’t just drop everything I’m doing and come running when you call. It’s not always all about you Black.”

  Connor shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “Charles Santiago. Name ring a bell?”

  Webber stopped his pacing, and his gaze shifted between Connor and Miles and me, as though trying to judge how much to say. Connor sat back, waiting patiently for a response.

  Webber’s response was hesitant. “Yeah, I know of Mr. Santiago.”

  He didn’t elaborate.

  “Charles Santiago is one of this city’s most well-known criminals,” Connor said as though it wasn’t already common knowledge.

  “Purely supposition. There is no evidence that points to any wrongdoing. The Pinegrove Police don’t go around arresting men on supposition. We’ve had this discussion before.”

  Connor steepled his fingers under his chin and rocked back in his chair. “And like last time, my intuition was correct about the bad guy being bad. Which is neither here nor there. What if I tell you we have indisputable proof linking Mr. Santiago to various crime organizations around the world? Proof that links Mr. Santiago to a local drug dealing ring, gun traffickers, and most recently sex traffickers? That’s certainly no longer supposition.” He said the last word with air quotes.

  “I’d want to know where this so-called evidence came from. And why someone hasn’t come forward with this proof beforehand.”

  I cleared my throat and rose from my perch next to Miles.

  “It came from me.” I stood proudly with my shoulders back.

  Webber turned and looked me up and down, more in a calculating way than a sexual one. I heard the growl that came from Miles. This was the part of the plan he hated. Without looking, my hand unerringly found the back of his head. My fingers softly caressed him in an effort to calm him given the information I was about to disclose. He needed my Dominance to keep him grounded. He felt it was his job to protect me. Webber’s eyes followed my movement, and from the knowing glance he shot me, he understood my relationship with Miles. Or thought he understood.

  “No disrespect, ma’am, but you are?” He left the question dangling.

  “My name is Josephine Bishop. Charles Santiago is my father. I’ve been collecting bits of information regarding my father’s criminal activities over the past several years, including his connections to the drug underworld and gun smuggling, just to name a few. When I stumbled across a new venture, human flesh peddling, I could no longer keep quiet about what I’d found, and I let it slip that I knew what he was doing. Since then, there have been two attempts made on my life. He’ll continue to send people after me until I’m dead. I’ve never known who to trust with the intel I have, so I’ve continued to collect it in hopes that eventually, I’d figure out who was willing to take him on. Another reason I haven’t come out with the information sooner is because he also has information on me. Information I previously did not want made known.”

  “Josie.” Miles’ muscles tensed. He made to stand, but I dropped my hand to his shoulder and squeezed.

  “Don’t move again, Miles.”

  Another glance at Miles and me, and Webber’s eyes widened a little in shock. Something clicked in his eyes, and I knew that he now fully recognized the dy
namic between Miles and me. Slowly, Miles sank the short distance back onto the couch, but didn’t relax his posture. He remained rigid under my hand. I knew he was nervous. So was I. I was about to confess to murder to a police officer. A move that could have dire consequences.

  “And why do you now, suddenly, want this information known?”

  I laughed without humor. “I don’t. But with two attacks against me, it’s time for this to end. I can’t move forward with my life until my father pays for his crimes. Even if that means exposing mine. Connor trusts you; I hope I can too.”

  I snuck a quick peek at Connor, but he remained seated in his chair. A look passed between us. His eyes were full of pride. It was what gave me the strength to tell my story. If Connor trusted this guy, then I would as well. Now, I just prayed it didn’t come back and bite me in the ass.

  “You should probably have a seat now.” I waited until Webber finally dropped into the chair before beginning my tale.

  Chapter 33

  “I have no idea how he was able to explain the missing body or cover up the fact that I killed Mr. Childress. At this point, it doesn’t really matter. He needs to be locked up and his crimes exposed. I just want him to pay for what he’s done. Not only to Casey, but to other families.”

  Webber hadn’t said anything during my recitation. He’d merely pulled out a notepad and pen from his inside suit coat pocket and scribbled as I spoke. He paused on occasion to look up at me, but otherwise he didn’t make a peep.

  “So, you never saw what he did with the body?”

  “No. After I checked to make sure Mr. Childress was dead, I quickly cleaned myself up and called my father. Within fifteen minutes, he was home. I went upstairs to check on Casey, clean her up, and change her clothes. After that, I put her to bed. My father called me down to his study. On my way there, I passed by the kitchen. I peered in, but the body was gone and floor was cleaned of any blood. The wine bottle, glass, and paper I had seen on the counter were missing. It was as though nothing happened.”

  “You mentioned this note before. Do you remember what it said?”

  My mind flashed back to that day, my memory as vivid now as it was ten years ago.

  Shocked, I stared at the body of the man on the floor in front of me. The sound of the knife clattering on the tile startled me to awareness. Slowly, I crept over to Mr. Childress. His chest remained still, but blood continued to spread across the sparkling white marble floor. I reached down and checked for a pulse. Nothing. I stepped carefully over the body and picked up the piece of paper that lay on the counter.

  Please enjoy the gift I left you upstairs.

  You have one hour to use your gift as you see fit,

  like the last time. If, in the future,

  you’d like access to your gift again,

  don’t hesitate to call on me.

  Bile churned in my stomach when I spotted my father’s initials at the bottom of the page. I dropped the paper and raced to the bathroom, where I emptied my stomach of its meager contents. Oh, God, Casey.

  Webber stopped writing when I disclosed the contents of the note. He raised his head and stared at me with horror in his eyes.

  “Jesus. Your dad allowed this man to rape his thirteen-year-old daughter more than once? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  Sadly, I wished I were. “My father had been ‘gifting’ Casey to Mr. Childress, and others I believe, but could never confirm, for over a year. I confronted him about it, and he slapped me across the face. He told me I’d just cost him millions of dollars. He then went on to explain that I was now indebted to him since he had to clean up my mess. He told me to keep that in mind the next time I decided to stick my nose in someone else’s business. That with a single phone call and the murder weapon, I’d go to prison. Then, he dismissed me. It was at that moment I started hacking into every one of my father’s business accounts, computers, security systems, everything I could possibly think of. There was no way I was ever going to be indebted to that son of a bitch. Especially not after what he’d done to Casey.”

  A new expression crossed Webber’s face. One I could only define as determination. As though my mission to bring down my father had now become his.

  “You’ve said that there are city officials who work for your father. Do you have evidence on who these officials are? Payoffs, bribes, blackmail information? Anything?”

  Webber went back to looking at his notepad with his questions.

  “Of course. Mayor Owens and your boss, Chief Stockton, are the two major players. There are also a few beat cops, but I’d have to look up their names. Those are the only ones I have solid proof of a connection to my father.”

  At my pronouncement of two of the most prominent civil servants in all of Pinegrove, Webber stopped scratching on his pad as his head shot up to look at me.

  “You’re telling me that the mayor and the chief of police are involved in all of this?” His voice reeked of disbelief. I didn’t give a shit what he thought. I had sound bytes of phone calls, emails, and video feed of personal meetings between them. I’d seen money exchange hands. I had all of their bank records and records of offshore accounts. A person didn’t make seven figures as a civil servant unless they were dirty. Instead of answering, I only continued to stare at him.

  Webber rubbed his hands over his head, clutching his hair in a fist in evident frustration.

  “Jesus Christ. This is a fucking nightmare you’ve just dragged me into Black.”

  “Connor says you can be trusted. I’m hesitant to believe that, but I’m going along with this because I trust Connor’s judgment. So, now that you have all this information, what do you plan on doing with it?”

  I intentionally wanted him on the spot. If I was going down for my shit, I wanted to make sure I took my father down with me.

  “If your father’s crimes are as international as you say they are, then the FBI is going to need to be involved. It’s possible that the criminals your father is associated with are already on the Fed’s radar. It would be like killing two birds with one stone. The only problem is, I don’t have any Federal connections.”

  “I do,” Connor spoke up. “I have several contacts within the FBI that I’ve worked with on a few cases. Guys I trust. Let me make some phone calls, and we’ll work out a plan of action. As far as the information you have on Josie, what are your plans regarding her?”

  My stomach clenched at Connor’s question, but there was nothing to be done about it now. I’d confessed, and my crime was now out in the open. The only place to go was forward. I turned to look at Webber while I waited with baited breath for his response.

  “Unfortunately, there is no statute of limitation on murder. Although, based on what you’ve told me, there may or may not be proof that it actually happened. It’s probable that he has the murder weapon stashed somewhere with your prints on it. He can lead investigators to wherever he took the body and once DNA results are confirmed, you’ll be arrested for, if nothing else, manslaughter. Here’s a question though: have you ever thought that maybe your father is bluffing and doesn’t actually have the proof you killed his associate in attempts to keep you from turning in your evidence against him?”

  For a short time I’d wondered if he was bluffing, but knowing my father, he wasn’t. He needed a way to keep me under his control. Little did he know.

  “He’s not bluffing. He wouldn’t chance me not caring if it was found out what I did. It’s leverage he can use against me. No, he has the information.”

  “Okay, so how about confronting your father? Lead him to believe that, in exchange for the evidence against you, you’ll turn over everything you’ve discovered about his illegal activities. Neither of you will have something to hold over the other’s head. If he chooses not to hand it over, then tell him you’ll turn yourself into local law enforcement and that you’re passing on all the information you have on him. Be sure to make him aware the FBI will become a part of this investigation so h
e knows it won’t actually be swept under a rug. Make him sweat a little.”

  I thought that over for a few minutes. I hated my father and wanted him to pay for everything he’d done to hurt people. It would provide me with a sense of satisfaction seeing the look on his face when he realized he wasn’t going to get away with his crimes. Miles tensed even further when Webber mentioned a confrontation. If his muscles tightened any more, I was afraid his whole body would splinter. Regardless, we’d already discussed it, and he knew this was the only way to protect me.

  “Yes. I think confronting him is the best way to go. What do you need from me?”

  “Do you have copies of everything you have?”

  “Of course.” Did he think I was an amateur?

  “I’ll need one of them. I’ll need the contact information for the agents Connor knows as well. Also, I don’t think what happened ten years ago is necessarily relative to any information the FBI needs. It was a local crime. One that doesn’t necessitate Federal involvement.”

  It took me several minutes to process exactly what it was that Webber was saying. Because it sure sounded like he had no plans to do anything about Mr. Childress. I didn’t want to rock the boat, but, for my own peace of mind, I needed clarification. Because the hope that just exploded inside me didn’t want to be tempered.

  “So, when my father hands over the evidence against me that he has, what happens to it?”

  Webber sat back in his chair and, with an air of nonchalance, said something that rocked me. “If your father has the murder weapon and it’s found, who’s to say it wouldn’t get lost again? I mean, stranger things have happened. Let’s just say that I have a little sister too. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to head back to the station and make a couple of phone calls. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  Webber stood and made his exit. I couldn’t move. I was numb with shock. No wonder Connor trusted him. Soon after Webber left, Connor sent Miles and me home for the day, which I was thankful for. I was exhausted after this grueling day.